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#imagine me not punching myself in the face for this
lauralot89 · 3 days
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My dear, it never rains but it pours. How true the old proverbs are. Here am I, who shall be twenty in September, and yet I never had a proposal till to-day, not a real proposal, and to-day I have had three. Just fancy! THREE proposals in one day!
I mean I know the focus here is that she had three proposals in one day, because that is indeed nuts, but I'm over here astral projecting at "yet I never had a proposal till to-day." It gives the impression of Lucy pacing around her house all annoyed, thinking "surely someone's going to come by and propose today."
But, for goodness' sake, don't tell any of the girls, or they would be getting all sorts of extravagant ideas and imagining themselves injured and slighted if in their very first day at home they did not get six at least.
Amazing.
Dr. John Seward, the lunatic-asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good forehead.
you never heard anyone talk about good foreheads anymore, do you
Also I'm going to start introducing myself as The Lunatic-Asylum Man and see what happens
he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.
I cannot put in words how happy my aroace ass is that Bram Stoker understands The Power of Friendship and the validity of platonic relationships
I sympathise with poor Desdemona when she had such a dangerous stream poured in her ear, even by a black man.
I'm just reading this book having a wonderful time and then I get punched in the face with the remembrance that it was written by a white guy in the 1890s who was somehow so progressive in his views of women, trauma, and mental illness, and so not progressive in LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE
but he found out that it amused me to hear him talk American slang, and whenever I was present, and there was no one to be shocked, he said such funny things.
Quincey is the ideal man and I do not take debate
Miss Lucy, I know I ain't good enough to regulate the fixin's of your little shoes
I need to find a Dracula audio book, preferably read by a Brit, just to hear how this sounds
I know, Mina, you will think me a horrid flirt—though I couldn't help feeling a sort of exultation that he was number two in one day
honey, three dudes asked for your hand in marriage, you can feel as exulted as you want
Lucy is the ideal woman and I do not take debate
Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, and I must not say it.
LET HER SPEAK
My dear, I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom Come.
Well, OW
It'll be something to keep off the darkness now and then.
Again, OW.
She put the third proposal in a PS, I love her
I am very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to deserve it. I must only try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful to God for all His goodness to me in sending to me such a lover, such a husband, and such a friend.
why must this story hurt me in this way
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catch my silly self watching something called gingerclown solely for the voice talents of brad dourif, tim curry, lance henrikson, sean young, and michael winslow
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hella1975 · 2 years
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the pill is fucking with my hormones again which naturally brings me to my constant conflict of 'is pursuing my passions more important than appeasing my hometown' and seeing as the big issue here is 'if i publish gay fantasy stories they will think im Weird :((' the conclusion i came to was 'i need to start being a little bit weirder all the time so that they're less surprised by it'. like yes queen start microdosing on weirdness to acclimatise your small town you're so normal about things
#i really wish id let myself be weirder at secondary school and hung out with weirder people#bc then people wouldnt be as surprised by it#but NOOOO i went 'i want to be COOL and go to PARTIES and hang out with the bitchy popular girls <333'#like that is the environment im in rn so imagine i turn around one day like 'anywayyy this is what ive been writing for the past two years'#i think they would all have a stroke. or punch me#possibly both actually#but like honestly on the one hand my brain is screaming like BEING SEEN AS WEIRD BY YOUR HOMETOWN IS THE WORST#POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN TO A GIRL THIS IS SOCIAL SUICIDE#and the other part of my brain is like my dude we have not cared about that kind of thing since before the pandemic what is the issue here#like honestly the worst thing THE WORST THING that can happen is people laugh at me and thing it's a weird hobby#and the kind of people doing that would not be people im spending any extended period of time with either#like that is it#people are dying babe get your head out your ass#idk i really hope this is a mindset i grow out of like im very comforted by the fact it's a very stereotypically teenaged mindset#my hope is in my 20s i gradually stop giving a fuck and find a tight knit group of small weirdos that Get Me#and i just wind up publishing something#AND BECOME AN OVERNIGHT SUCCESS AND EARN MILLIONS AND THROW IT IN MY HOMETOWN'S FACE AND-#anyway thank you im done ranting now. as you were#at ease soldier#you guys must see the word 'hometown' in my posts and go ohhhh fuck here we go#im not sorry btw
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hwiyoungies · 1 year
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now what we're not going to do is mourn someone's features that they decided to change for whichever reason because it's their body and they can (looking at you twitter)
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 14 days
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[I almost killed your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich]- Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)
Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
After the unexpected encounter with Soap and Ghost, your shop finally owns the vibes of peace.
The customers become so ‘normal’, almost feels like you aren’t in the same area as before – if you ignore the blood on their shirts or recall the memory of seeing them punching someone across the street. You assume the men must tell them to behave in your shop, but you must say the minions become a bit overreacting. They call you ma'am, chat as quietly as possible, and one of them even apologizes when he accidentally touches your finger as if you will chop off his pinky. You start doubting if they view you as a secret henchman of 141.
It’s morning now, the shop usually has more people at this time, but you haven’t had a single customer since you opened it 30 minutes ago, they just vanished without any hint, hence you start testing out new recipes for your bread.
Lilting the song that’s fully out of tune, you slice the bread you just baked into pieces, and throw one into your mouth. Perfectly crunchy outside, fluffy like clouds inside. Oh my, you’re such a genius.
You’re totally unaware of your visitor until he stirs the air with a cough and his voice.
“Pardon me?” He calls you again, but you’re left in a trance when you land your eyes on him.
Damn, he looks just like your imagination of the man in the Dilf next door fic you just read yesterday on co5. Your eyes travel from his well-trim beard, south to his belted waist. Why does a man with a toned body – which his khaki coat can’t even hide –  have such a tiny waist? Your mouth's agape at the sight as you’re about to respond.
“mmsadjsmm” The man raises his eyebrow in confusion, and you hear your voice not forming a proper sentence too. Ah, you forgot the bread’s still stuffed in your mouth.
“ehemm, Sorry Sir, I mean what would you like to have?” Quickly swallow the bread and try to pretend you didn’t just dumbfounded in front of him, you speak again.
“English breakfast, please.” He croons with an infatuating smile as he saunters to take a seat. 
His voice is quite soothing, you admit in your mind as you start brewing said man’s tea, just like you presumed the Dilf in the fic… okay, you really should clear those nasty brainrots during work.
The tea is nicely served in the tea cup and brought to the man shortly after.
You can’t help the smile crawling onto your face when you see him grin at you after a sip. You love watching your customer enjoy your tea, and he obviously relaxes with it have you bask in your achievements.
“Don’t finish your breakfast?”
“Just trying a new recipe. I want to add it to my menu.” you reply with a shake of your head, and after a brief halt, you add a question “ Have you eaten breakfast yet, Sir”
“Call me John, love.” The man – John sets his cup on the table before continuing “And no, I haven’t”
“Then… would you like to have a grilled cheese sandwich? I can’t finish the bread myself, it would be great if someone could help me with it... Of course, it isn’t a must!" You hurriedly complement when John widens his eyes slightly at your suggestion, but he meets your eyes with interest within.
”I would love to.”
You beam up as you get the affirmation, and walk behind your counter again.
Slices of bread are already prepared. The pro tip for a delicious grilled cheese sandwich is giving the bread some nice seasoning first, so you pick up your black pepper jar before inquiring about John’s preference.
“How much pepper would you like, John?”
“Would be great if it’s more.”
“Alright.”
You turn back to season the bread, but when you pick up the pepper jar and about to shake it, a question slips into your brain making you pause.
How much is “more”?
The man doesn't have time to sit here and wait for you to contemplate the philosophy of seasoning, so after biting your bottom lip and thinking for 30 seconds, you shake the jar. More is better, you recall what John told you as your hand keeps moving.
You shake it 10 times, since more is better.
Apart from the bread, you hold full confidence in your grilled cheese sandwich. Placing generous amounts of cheese in between, the coveted smell flooded your little shop as you plate the well-toasted sandwich.
“It surely smells great.” John praises before diving in.
You hang a big expecting grin until John takes a bite and starts coughing like you will put him into the ER with a sandwich.
“It’s– it’s okay…love…” He tries to comfort you when you apologize abundantly and rush back to your counter to fill him a cup of water. Holy, isn’t more pepper better? Now you're going to send the man to heaven with a grilled cheese sandwich.
“Here’s water!” You go back to John as fast as you can with the cold water in your hand, you’re busy checking out John, who stops coughing madly but cheeks pink with the spices, and you don’t see the leg of the chair sticking out of its usual place.
A pair of arms catch you from slamming onto the floor, but the cup isn’t that lucky as it flies with Newton’s help and clatters on the floor.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You stabilize yourself in John’s support. But wow,  now the man not only just recovered from a fatal attack to his throat, but also has a wet spot spreading along the chest part of his shirt.
“No worries, love. It’s just a shirt.”
Even though John attempts to calm you, you still can’t help the sheepishness creep to your cheeks and stain it with the same pink as John’s, or stop thinking about if the balance in your bank account is able to buy the man a new shirt. You remember you wanted to get some cash out of the cashpoint but it shoved an ‘insufficient funds :(‘ into your face.
You really don’t want any customers to come in right now, even if it means your little tea shop will close down because you only have one from the start of today, but fate always gifts you things you crave when you don’t need them.
“Sorry boss, I’m late.”
You look at the tan-skinned man standing like a model just escaped from his manager, staring at you shoving a towel on John’s chest and both of your cheeks smeared with suspicious red.
“What happened?”
I almost murdered your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich. Apparently, you can’t answer with this, so you face John for help.
and he’s looking at you too, with a sly smirk awaiting your explanation.
You wonder if you can just make two sandwiches to shut these men up, with one more for yourself to end this predicament now.
a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!
No John Price is harmed in this chapter.
tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143
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lunarflare64 · 2 years
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Patricide is looking so tempting right now
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hyunsvngs · 7 months
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kinktober !
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kink: tentacles
pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader
wc: 2.3k
tentacle kink: a sexual interest in tentacles and the imagined creatures that have them.
It had to work. You would die if it didn’t work.
Then again, you’d probably die if it did work. You’re trying to summon Slenderman, after all. No one would understand why except for you. You’ve always had an affinity for all things macabre and dangerous, and maybe you’re a little messed up. After deep diving on Reddit, you were more than dubious that the creature actually existed. You had to find out. You had to see for yourself.
Clearly not that bad, because you hadn’t gone into the woods like they’d told you to online. The October weather was ultimately too cold to be trekking through branches and fallen leaves, even to try and summon your favourite Creepypasta entity - you did the second option instead, drawing a quick symbol on your wall with marker and all of the lights turned out.
The poem felt a little silly coming from your lips, despite Reddit users insisting it’s mandatory for the summoning. It felt even sillier when you stared at the symbol, barely visible through the moonlight flooding in beyond the curtains, but you had to persevere. If he was real, he’d come to your room and meet you. If he was real.
You ended the poem, finally opening your eyes and sighing. You blinked at the wall, quickly looking around the room. What a load of bullshit. Slenderman isn’t real, then. You’d proved it for yourself, and-
“This is fucking ridiculous,” There was a thud behind you, and you spun around on your bed, hazily trying to see who had joined you in your room. You reached over with a squeak, flicking your lamp on. There, in what almost looked like the Slenderman from your dreams - a man, dressed in a suit and dark, ebony hair pushed back from his forehead. He kicked an imaginary stone with his shoe, shoving his broad hands into his pockets and finally looking up at you. He blinked at you a few times, and then raised an eyebrow. “Why are you scared? Did you not ask for this?”
You huffed. “Well, you’re not Slenderman.”
The man groaned, head rolling back. He cracked his neck effortlessly on both sides, and then stared back into your eyes. His gaze was piercing, dark and feeling all too consuming. “I am- I’m like his brother, but not in the way you humans adhere to. He sends me for cases like yours. Minor, petty things.”
“Cases like mine?” You scoffed, resisting the urge to punch the man in his annoyingly attractive face. He wandered over to your desk, wholly unaffected, and started to flick through your diary. “Hey-!”
“Cases like yours,” He repeated, a small smile flickering on his lips at one of the pages. “Sexually charged cases. You are a little fucked up, aren’t you?”
You bristled. You knew exactly what page he was looking at. Your diary was for mundane things, your day-to-day life, but it was also where you detailed your more… late night fantasies. Recently, some rather obscure things had been taking up the majority of your brain, and maybe that’s what had pushed you to summon Slenderman. You’d never admit that, though.
In all honesty, this guy was kind of hot. You weren’t sure if it was the mysterious atmosphere about him, if he was clearly otherworldly judging from his alabaster skin, or if it was his long legs in those suit trousers. If you were of a different state of mind, you’d have believed he was the entity you were trying to reach. There was just one thing.
“Aren’t you a bit short to be related to Slenderman?”
The man stopped. He sighed, and then shut the diary, before turning to you with one long, accusing finger. “First off, I’m not that short. Secondly, I told you, it’s not the same as what you humans think siblings are. Also, I don’t have to prove myself to you.”
You grinned. “You just tried though, right?”
He rolled his eyes, stalking over to the bed. “I think I’ll kill you sooner than I planned. You’re rude.”
“You’re rude too,” You huffed, trying to kick him in the leg from your position on your bed. Instead of catching it with his hands, a pitch-black tentacle sprouted from his back and wrapped around your ankle, effectively pinning it down and rendering you motionless. You gasped, and he raised an eyebrow. “What the-”
“We do have some similarities,” The man began, drawing the tentacle tighter. “We’re of the same species, for one. I suppose I’m not as prestigious as him, but you seem happy enough to have me here, right?”
You blinked. “I would actually prefer if you left, in all honesty.”
“Can’t,” He shrugged, withdrawing the tentacle. Your ankle flopped back to the bed and you grabbed it instinctively, slightly disappointed to feel no traces of the slimy limb. “I need to kill you. It’s in the rulebook, you know? Once you’ve seen one of us, you have to die, or my mission will fail.”
What were you meant to do in this situation? You didn’t really want to die. You hadn’t thought the whole thing through at all. You’d expected to just see traces of the entity, perhaps catch him from the corner of your eye - you were instead left with a sexy long-limbed man standing in front of your bed, basked in the soft orange glow of your bedside lamp.
“Why kill me when you could fuck me instead?” You’d said the first thing that came to mind. The man’s jaw dropped, before it quickly reverted back to normal, his head tilting to the side in confusion.
“You are pretty weird, aren’t you? Unusual. A little fucked up, like I said.”
“That wasn’t a no,” You hummed. The man’s eyes burnt a trail down your legs, exposed in your sleep shorts, and then his eyes were fixated on a patch of skin revealed on your shoulder from where your shirt had slipped to the side. You scoffed, yanking the shirt back into place. “Oh my God, you want to, don’t you?! That’s why you haven’t left!”
He shrugged. “I’ve never fucked a human. It could be fun.”
You blanched. Okay, you hadn’t expected to get this far. After you had, though… Well, he had tentacles. That was something from your deepest, darkest desires, something that you would try to push to the back of your brain and scrunch your eyes shut tightly with your hand shoved down your pyjama trousers. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were already getting wet, clit throbbing with need.
He started to move towards you. First, it was one knee on the bed, and then the other joined, starting a slow crawl that resulted in his face getting closer. You hadn’t realised you were moving closer, too, and you gulped. “What’s- what’s your name?”
The man chuckled, face only inches from yours now. His face looked young, you noticed, yet his eyes held a wildfire inside as if there was so much you didn’t know. There was so much you wanted to know. “Seungmin.”
You had no time to debate it, because his lips were pressing against yours. They were soft, plush, and you found yourself whimpering into his kiss. He’d effectively shut you up. Without a second passing, Seungmin was dominating your mouth, pressing his tongue in and rolling it against yours. How did just a kiss feel so good?
You let him push you back into the sheets, forearms landing on your pillow either side of your head for purchase. He deepened the kiss, his hands moving to tangle in your hair as he held you in place. You felt your pussy flutter, achingly horny despite the lack of stimulation, and your breath caught in your chest. 
Seungmin pulled away and you licked your lips, chest heaving. “I.. can I see them?”
“See what?” He mused, thumb brushing along your lower lip. One look at the amused expression on his face told you that he knew. 
“The…” You gulped, legs parting to allow him closer to you. His bulge was thick, pressing tightly against your core. “The tentacles, Seungmin. Can I see them? How many are there?”
“Four, baby,” He leaned down, nipping at your neck. You gasped, hips bucking up, choosing not to comment on the pet name in your haze of lust. “I can put one in your pussy, one in your asshole and one in your mouth. How’s that? Is that dirty enough for you?”
You whimpered, grinding on his bulge. Seungmin allowed it, hands moving to your hips to aid your movement. It had your sleep shorts slipping around, fabric sticking to the wetness accumulated on your folds. You whined, arms thrashing until they settled around his broad shoulders, still clad in his expensive-looking suit. “What about your cock, Seungmin?”
“My cock?” Seungmin scoffed, running his tongue up your neck. It made you squirm, thighs clenching around his slender waist. His hair tickled your skin, dark and perfect as if he’d spent hours styling it. You knew he hadn’t. “I can fuck you without needing to cum, baby. I doubt I can say the same for you.”
“No, I’ll- I’ll probably cum as soon as you put one in, to be honest,” You admitted, cheeks burning crimson with embarrassment. 
“Hmm, that makes a lot of sense,” Seungmin reached down, yanking your sleeping shorts down. It bared your pussy to the room, cold air hitting your clit and the slick on your pussy. It made you jolt, squeaking as Seungmin saw you in such an intimate way. “You’re wet. Are you feeling impatient? Needy, even?”
“Yes! Yes, God, I need it,” You huffed, spreading your thighs further. You were practically spread eagle now, and you ran your fingertips over the soft expanse of your tummy, just barely visible below your shirt. You continued the journey down your body, looking up at Seungmin with pleading eyes, and then you pressed two fingers into your clit. You flinched, wailing at the stimulation. “Ah, I’m so horny, I’m so horny, what the fuck-”
“Stay still, I’ll give it to you,” Seungmin murmured, and then you caught sight of them again. Four pitch-black tentacles sprouted from his back, seeming to forego his clothes and then one was tickling at your entrance. You moaned, because were they suckers?
It was easy to learn that yes, his tentacles had suckers, and he was now brushing one over your clit. You obediently moved your hands out of the way, back to their position on his shoulders. It sucked onto the swollen bundle of nerves with ease, and just as you started to squirm, another tentacle was pressing into your tight, drippy hole. You could feel the amount of slick you’d gushed beneath you, ruining your bed and quite possibly ruining you for any other man. The appendage itself was lubed, brushing through your own wetness and creating a filthy noise that rang throughout your bedroom.
“Don’t squirm,” Seungmin commanded, hand running up your thigh comfortingly. The tentacle pushed in further, and you clenched, wet, heavy breaths coming from your mouth. “That’s it, good girl. Let it push inside you, just like that.”
The tentacle was narrow at the tip, but it flared much further out after an inch or so. The stretch made your pussy leak even more than what was imaginable. You didn’t think you’d ever been this wet. The appendage was long, but Seungmin kept pushing more and more until you were taking around five inches of it, and you whined, reaching down to press at his stomach.
“Too big, too much,” You protested, but Seungmin shushed you, pressing a kiss into your cheek.
“Your pussy’s just too little, baby. Too tight,” He grunted, and then he pushed another inch in. “Take it. Take it for me, and I might think about giving you my cock later.”
“Your- would you?” Your eyes were teary, toes curling into the bed. “Been good. Tryin’ to take it, ‘s just- it’s so thick, so long. Seungmin, Seungmin, sir, sir, you said you- you’re not gonna kill me?”
“How can I kill such a sweet thing?” His hand moved to your cheek, before moving down, wrapping around your neck. The pressure was light, but very much there, making you moan out into your room. “You’re whining so pretty for me. Calling me sir, taking this just like it’s my cock. You’re dirty. I have to keep you around, don’t I?”
You nodded, legs thrashing on the bed. Your chest heaved, a blotchy pink rash overtaking your skin. “It’s good, it’s so good, so thick, oh- Oh, I think I might…?”
“You think you’re gonna cum?” Seungmin scoffed. “Already? Alright, do it. I’ll let you. Just this once, okay?”
You keened, hands gripping onto his shoulders. Your fingernails must have been digging into him almost painfully, but he didn’t flinch, staring straight at you with the same dark, piercing gaze. Your pussy clenched down, tight and fluttering, and then you were-
You gasped, eyes fluttering open as you attempted to look around your bedroom. The sun had just begun to rise, but your boyfriend was awake, and pulled you into his chest upon seeing your eyes open. 
“Sounded like hell of a dream,” Seungmin smirked, his eyebrow raising. You bit your lip, staring up at him. “Was it about me?”
“Always is,” You mumbled, burying your face in his shirt. He chuckled, shoulders shaking as he rubbed down your back with a tender, broad hand. “It was dirty.”
“Yeah? Another reenactment of how we first met?”
You sighed, brushing your hand down one of his tentacles. It laid bare on your bed, and twitched with approval as you fidgeted with it.
“Yeah, something like that.”
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roanniom · 1 year
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About this post, he would like know all the little known tricks too, like he’d pick up guy and girl-targeted magazines in order to gain as much knowledge as possible. The man is a nerd, he’d absolutely read up on giving a girl head. He knows the ‘come hither’ motion, he knows how to pay attention to the clit, he knows about pacing, and you bet he knows about the ‘seven pleasure points of women’ from Friends.
Critical Hit
Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering
I’m just imagining Eddie Munson looking at you naked for the first time and just freezing. You think it’s cute and so you’re all gentle and sweet and encouraging and you just lay back and let him explore you.
But within 0.5 seconds he’s got his fingers in your pussy and his mouth on your tits and he’s sucking and thrusting and rubbing and you are writhing beneath all the attention.
“I thought you didn’t know what you’re doing!” you accuse with a yelp, eyes rolling back in your head.
He pulls off your breast with a pop and looks at you with a furrowed brow and wet, pouting lips.
“I have no idea what I’m doing!” he insists anxiously. But his fingers keep fucking you and your legs try to close in on his hand, back arching off the bed.
“What the fuck, Munson! Are you hustling me? I’m - mmm - it’s been like five minutes and I’m already - fuck!”
He perks up at that, using the hand not inside you to pet at your clit. The pressure is irregular but somehow exactly what you need??
“You’re already what?” he asks. Incredulous and eager and way too much like a puppy. “Do you mean you’re gonna cum?”
“Fuuuck…” you whine, dragging a pillow over and covering your face with it, really in order to bite into it. You feel embarrassed about being so easy for him, and for assuming he’d be some lost teenager when it came to your body. Virgin or not, Eddie Munson was playing you like one of his guitars and you were about to snap.
“No no don’t hide! That’s not fucking fair,” Eddie all but whines like a petulant child, tugging at the pillow till you let go of it weakly. His eyes blow wide and his fingers pick up the pace on your sopping wet, clenching pussy. “Are you…are you drooling? Cuz of me?”
You swipe at the errant spit left at the corner of your mouth from biting the pillow and frown.
“Shut up.”
“That’s fucking hot, Princess,” Eddie says with reverent awe. “You’re so fucking hot.”
You go to respond but can’t because he switches the direction of the swirl on your clit and suddenly you’re coming with a soundless moan that has you gasping open mouthed. Eddie waits patiently through your convulsions, staring at you wide eyed till you drop, spent, back into the sheets. Only then does he punch the air with his fist.
“That seemed like a critical hit of an orgasm if I do say so myself.”
“A critical…wha?” you pant, still not fully back to yourself yet. Left fuzzy and dizzy as you stretch your legs and savor the delicious ache.
“So in DND when you roll a natural 20 - ,”
You throw a pillow and smack him square in the face before he can say another word.
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willowser · 10 months
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i will never stop writing bakugou as a shy, blushy loserboy, but. the idea of you being more inexperienced than him ??
you're carefully bandaging him up at the agency clinic, after he'd taken a nasty hit that left his shoulder scuffed up, and he's been in here with you more times than he can count, much too late at night, and maybe that's how you get into this conversation in the first place; weird stuff always gets said at this hour.
"no, i'm telling you," despite the vulnerability of what you're saying — despite the awful look that must be on his face — you're laughing. "never dated anyone, never been taken on a date, nothing."
and — he really must look truly terrible, with his mouth open and his lip curled over his teeth and his brows furrowed, because he can't hardly believe a fucking word you're saying. it pisses him off and he doesn't know why, just seems. a waste, for no one to have appreciated someone like you.
someone that he maybe thinks about too much, that is too nice and not funny to anyone but themselves but still laughs and hardworking and. so pretty that it annoys him.
his question comes out rough, harsh. "why the hell not?"
"i don't know," you shrug, eyes cutting to his before focusing back on patching him up. "i'm — probably too shy and weird, or something. and online dating is hard, y'know! some guys are really into the purity thing, like too into it, and some guys find out and won't touch me with a ten-foot pole, so," and then you shrug. like that's all there is to it.
and katsuki is just astounded to know this. not that he's ever done all that much himself, but all his bases have been covered, by now in his life, and he just really can't imagine anyone knowing you and not wanting to—
he realizes the irony of thinking this, like a punch to the gut. after knowing you for almost two years now and never so much as complimenting your stupid hair and the stupid way you wear it.
"well," katsuki grumbles, averting his eyes to the walls of the clinic, trying to seem more interested in your creepy, anatomy posters. "maybe he's comin'...or whatever."
"who's coming?"
"your guy, i don't know!" it's unfortunate that his shirt is off for this, because there's no way you aren't getting a perfect view of the flush that spreading down to his chest. "your dude, maybe he's...figuring it out."
"hmm, maybe. that's what my gran says, but who knows?" you shrug, oblivious — and suddenly your singleness makes a smidge more sense. "i've resigned myself to a touchless, loveless life for—"
"he's comin'!" katsuki barks and you startle at the outburst, eyes casting over his warm cheeks and then down his chest and back. finally, it fucking clicks for you, like he hasn't been finding excuse after excuse to see you every damn night for ages. "he's...checkin' his work schedule and then he's...gonna figure it out, alright?"
you brighten considerably, lip going between your teeth. "oh, yeah, yeah," and your smile is unstoppable, not hidden in the slightest as you turn to the steri-tray at your side, shyness bleeding into his own. "alright."
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fernspirals · 2 years
Text
I think it’s actually so hilarious that I’m a cancer in tropical astrology …. Gemini in sidereal astrology……and a fucking Aquarius in draconic :P
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joonipertree · 3 months
Text
Sano Manjiro, the most frustrating man to have a crush on
You learnt that Mikey punched a guy who asked you out. Mikey refuses to explain why. Both of you are dumbasses.
Tags: fluff, stupid shit, getting together, friends to lovers, fem bodied reader, smut at the end, it's him just eating you out sjsns, slight Dom/sub undertones because I can't help myself
  Mikey was a dumbass. 
In every sense of the word, he was a short fucking dumbass with a deep melodic voice and great hair. The biggest dumbass in the world. You wanted to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Genuinely, you couldn’t stand that man. In no way could you imagine him ever being a good boyfriend. He’d suck at it-----
“Oi, Sano Manjiro.” 
The man in question turned, face dead and eyebrow twitching. 
“What?”
“Did you beat up the guy? 
“I beat up a lot of guys.”
“The guy who asked me out.”
Mikey sat back with his palms on the ground and Toman jacket secured on his back. His hair had gotten long, a bit too long for his liking and he still hadn’t decided how to cut it. You’d already taken the liberty over the last few weeks to tie them in pigtails and braid them to your heart’s content. He’d just walk around like that without batting an eye. 
“Yeah, he went out with one hit. You could do better.”
“Do you know who you are? The fuck. That could have killed him.”
“He isn’t in the hospital or anything.”
You turned around, not being able to take a look at your friend anymore than you needed to. Everyone around you stared with either pity or annoyance. Sanzu, Emma and Ken-chin were utterly done with Mikey’s dumbassery and Chifuyu was done with yours. Baji and Kazutora were done with both of you. They just always choose the stupid people as friends. 
“You weren’t gonna say ‘yes’ were you?”
And you weren’t. The boy had very bravely confessed his feelings for you (unlike some people) and before you could even tell him your answer, he’d told you to think about it at least. You’d appreciated it and left at that, already planning on saying no. 
“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?”
“Oh my god,” Emma muttered out in agony. 
"Maybe you should nurse him back to health then." 
"Yeah I was already planning on it." 
No you were not.
You left with an emphasis on your steps, back straight and eyes hard because you were stubborn. You didn't care if Mikey won at being the most stubborn person in the block, you would beat him at his own game.
"You know he likes you. He has for years. He knows you like him. Just fuck already." Chifuyu moaned out, having gotten over the shoujo vibes very quickly after seeing the slow burn drag out. 
"I dunno what you're talking about." 
You wanted to deny it. Not deny that you were in love with Mikey but deny he was in love with you. Because admitting it meant hoping for something to happen and false hope got you hurt. People got close, they saw you in your humanity and ran away. The only people you trusted not to leave were your friends, Mikey included. 
"Oh come on. I have given you a powerpoint presentation and a whole binder worth of evidence that Mikey likes you. I nearly got wiped out by Draken for taking one too many pictures." 
You snorted. Chifuyu being a romantic buffoon with an overeager imagination made it harder for you to accept it. But you did acknowledge, not with the binder full of pictures and 'receipts', that Mikey had a soft spot for you. 
You got close at 17, Mikey being an extroverted loud mouth and you being a shy but curious introvert. He took you on bike rides, talked to you while making eye contact, held your hand and pulled you next to him and you fed him bites of your food and let him sleep on your lap. 
But you wanted to argue that….Mikey was just friendly like that. 
It had been a few years before you noticed that Mikey rarely made eye contact with people while talking but always asked for your attention. You both were hopeless and were just waiting for the other one to confess. It was getting painful. 
Chifuyu's eyes shifting to the side made you alert because he wasn't good at acting. And when he got up and ran, you knew who came inside. 
"Hi, Captain! Bye, Captain!" 
Mikey sat in front of you, dark bottomless eyes staring into your soul. You looked back at him, still pissed that he punched a perfectly nice guy. He then eyed your sundae and you immediately pulled it closer to you. He needed to learn that actions had consequences and that you weren't weak for him.
  With a pout, Mikey placed his chin on his arms, splayed out on the table. It made you aware how broad he was, fingers nimble and boney and angular.
 Pretty. Always so pretty. 
"How's your boyfriend doing?" 
Your teeth clicked and with a roll of your eyes, you established that Mikey needed to get pushed off a cliff somewhere. 
"So you aren't gonna tell me?" 
"Tell you what?" Mikey drawled out, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 
"Why you punched an innocent dude."
"He pissed me off." 
"Why?" 
"Did you say yes?" 
"Answer me first." 
"I did." 
You glared, taking a petty bite of your ice cream in retaliation. Mikey glared back harder, only changing when he looked out the corner of his eyes. You were about to turn your head before he spoke up again. 
"It was an accident." 
Your snort was loud and unattractive, hiding your face to try and compose yourself. When you looked up,Mikey's face had softened. 
"I don't believe you." 
"It's the truth. Answer my question." 
You debated your options. Because maybe saying that 'yeah I want to date him' would be going too far considering it would be a lie. But admitting that you didn't meant even more probing questions. Like why you were annoyed at Mikey for punching someone you didn't wanna date.
"Why do you care?" You retaliated like a dumbass.
"You're pissing me off." 
"Good." 
There was another pause. Mikey's hand moving to steal your bowl. You swerve it away from him with no chance of winning with his reflexes and the limited space. So your hand went to grab his wrist. 
Your heart raced at immediate contact. You became all too aware of him. Aware of his delicate wrist, the muscle, the bone that jutted out, the blue veins against pale skin. You became aware of his reddened and bruised knuckles, his calluses and ripped cuticles. They were hands of a delinquent, that liked to grip things too tight and didn't mind rough surfaces and reveled in strenuous activity. They were big too, too big against your own hand and too rough for your soft skin. 
And they were warm, soaking into you to leave a lasting impression. 
Mikey let go of the bowl in favor of holding your arm, gentle and all encompassing. His thumb rubbed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form and a shiver to run down your spine. 
"I was fighting with Takemitchy. The dude got caught in the crossfire. My hand landed on his face by accident. I can show you Mitchy as proof. He still looks run down. Even I took a few hits." 
You saw. Saw the scratches on his face and the redness of his jaw. It made you want to chide him for not bandaging himself. But he always liked it when you did it. Your eyes couldn't meet his, staring at your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his thumb rubbing your skin. 
"You need to stop fighting in public settings." 
"It wasn't that bad. A tire or two got thrown around but that's about it." 
"Where did you--- not gonna ask." 
Mikey giggled, soft and gravelly. You were reminded that the years changed his voice in a way that was still his. There was a pause and you realised the question eating away at you wouldn't go away until you asked it. The secret you kept wouldn't help being hidden away. You were tired and just wanted him. 
"You know……I talked to the guy today. Went to meet him." 
Mikey's eyes instantly hardened, looking away with a click of his tongue. 
"Ah, did he tell you I knocked his brains out? You shouldn't date a liar." 
"No," you tried to keep your voice casual, "he told me that it hurt but you weren't even looking at him when it happened. He just got too close." 
"Then why did you ask---" 
"He apologised though, said he didn't know I had a boyfriend." 
Mikey’s lips tugged upwards, turning his head to the side so he could catch his composure. And you were ready to slap the shit out of him. 
“Huh, I don’t know what gave him that impression. We must look good together.”
“I feel like you saying ‘that’s for asking my girl out’ after you hit him might’ve done the trick.”
Mikey held his hands up in surrender, knees knocking against yours almost to tease. 
"I didn't hit him, I just repurposed the accident. Didn't want it to go to waste." 
"Manjiro." 
"What?"
"I'm not yours." 
"Since when?" 
"Since always!!" 
His eyebrows furrowed, leaning back with a huge frown like you'd just told him his house burnt down. 
"What the fuck?"
"You can't just make me yours without asking me first, asshat." 
"Everyone knows you're mine."
"I dont." 
Mikey took your hand, lips on the back of it as if it was a normal part of his day. But your breath hitched and you froze. Because oh---
"I found you first." 
Your palms slammed against the table.
"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it on my mouth, you coward---"
And within the next second, Manjiro’s mouth crashed into yours. It nearly knocked you back, if it wasn’t for his hand at the back of your head, curling into your hair. You whimpered against him, his lips tugging into a satisfied smirk. 
Chifuyu had yelled out, “Fucking finally!!”
The sound of your lips parting away from each other was enough to make you want to lean back in. Your lips weren’t willing to move even an inch away from him. He tasted good. Like vanilla. And he had trouble keeping himself away from you as well, leaving chaste kisses on the corners of your mouth, fingers keeping your chin lifted up. 
A throat was cleared, your cheeks instantly burned with the realisation of where you were. Mikey glared at the waiter who just let him know that it was time to leave. And with fingers interlocked, Mikey pulled you away from the diner, sticking out his tongue to Ken-chin who sighed in relief and leaned against Emma.
You got on his bike without question, heart racing because oh god--
The door to his room slammed open and he barely paid attention to anything with his arm around you. You giggled as he lifted you up and swirled you inside with a flourish. Once the door was shut, his laughter was loud and warm as his lips crashed into you, hungry for more. And you let him lead you, combing your hand through his hair causing him to shiver. 
Mikey hugged you close, gentle in his touch and you let him swallow you whole and envelop you. When his tongue prodded against your lip, you parted them easily as if he didn’t even have to ask. And oh, he felt good.
 But Mikey will spend the rest of your lives telling you that you were the best feeling in the world. 
“Mine.” Manjiro murmured out, sucking on your lower lip so harshly that your whole body did a visceral shudder. 
You were breathing hard when you parted, eyes hazy but daring as you looked your best friend in the eye. 
“You still haven’t asked me, asshat.”
Manjiro growled, eyes narrowed and twitching. Your head and body threw itself back as you burst out laughing, feeling free because you knew Mikey’s arm would never let you fall. That led your neck to be exposed to the littering kisses Manjiro gave out of vengeance.
 You squealed as it tickled and felt your knees give out against the bed beneath you. He’d backed you up, without you noticing, like a predator cornering its prey for a meal well earned. 
You felt yourself sink into the soft mattress, hand reached out to tug his shirt down towards you. Manjiro just stared at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you didn’t understand and a grin so wide you could see all his teeth. 
“Mine, in every timeline.” Mikey whispered. 
And your breath hitched, speaking out without a second thought. 
“Yours, in every universe.” 
Manjiro’s eyes watered and he finally enveloped you, body a welcomed weight as he kissed you in slow languid bliss. 
“Good baby,” he whispered and you whined out. 
You pawed at him, liking the praise a little too much. Manjiro’s kisses left a wet hot trail as he went from your chin to your cheek. A wet sound heard every time his lips disconnected from you. You let him have his way, feeling his hand pat the side of your head. 
You wanted to kiss him back but every time you tried, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and you just laid there as he poured his love into you. You had begun to tear up because Manjiro's love was overwhelming and it was for you.
Your eyes closed as his lips met your eyelids, tasting the salty tears and pulling back to inspect your face. You mewled at the lost contact, opening your eyes and pouting.
Oh, how dare he 
He hushed you, hand patting your head again, lips continuing their venture on your face. 
 Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. And both of you became aware of the effect the intimacy had on you.
 Manjiro pressed into you, hips solid and confident. And you felt his bulge against your pussy, only his pants and your underwear in the way. it was enough to drive you insane. 
You yearned and yearned and begged with pretty fluttery eyes that had him breathless. 
“Yeah? You wan’ me, honey?”
And despite the embarrassment, you nodded with the biggest pout you could muster. And Manjiro melted just at that, ready to burn the world for you if you asked him to. In another timeline, he probably had. 
“Haven’t even been dating for a minute and you're already so needy.”
He didn’t even let you blubber out a complaint before your underwear was exposed to him. And you craved him so badly that your legs made space for only Manjiro. He appreciated it, boney fingers squeezing your hips before imprinting the memory of the wet patch into his mind. 
Oh you were so sweet. A type of pliable that was only given to those you trusted. 
“Not allowed to hide anything, okay?”
And with that, his nose traced the outline of your pussy, tongue peaking out for a taste that just wasn’t enough for you. Your thighs squished against his cheeks and he groaned, pressing his full mouth onto you. Your hips jutted upwards, a cry weak and wobbly escaping your lips. And with effort, you spoke.
“Stop teasing, jerk.”
The warmth was too much, you could feel him right there but the cotton was in the way. Despite your protest, he lapped you up out of greed. And your hands clutched onto his hair. 
“If there’s nothing between us, I won’t be sane.” You heard him say and it just made you needier. 
“Don’ want you to be. Please.”
And with that, his hand ripped your panties out of the way. Manjiro took a second to stare in awe at your pretty pussy. It was so wet, begging him to eat it out, practically drooling. Many thoughts went through his head.
How it would feel to be inside you, how warm it would be, if he could last long in the tightness? If he'd ever be able to survive without the taste of your pussy after this moment? If he gave your cunt a smack, would you like it?
Manjiro decided that keeping you waiting was the worst thing he could possibly do. 
Mikey was a lot more hungry than he thought he was. Your pussy was engulfed in his mouth.
 The direct contact was enough to make him moan. Your own got stuck in your throat, not realising how overwhelming it would be. When his tongue prodded inside, you let him guide your legs against your chest so that he could have more access. And then it plunged inside and you let out a warbled moan that felt too loud in your own ears. With a hand covering your mouth, you tried to suppress the little sounds tumbling out of you.
Manjiro’s middle finger tapped against the plush of your thigh and he pulled away with effort to say:
“No hiding. Be good.”
You cried out, flexing your fingers in his hair as he went back to the task at hand. And you let yourself voice out the feeling, soft “ah, ah, ah”s filling the air and causing you to tear up in embarrassment. 
“Wan’ to be-be good for you.”
“Mhmmm,” He answered with the vibration of his hum shooting through your pussy and into your back that arched almost painfully. 
The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into you the second Manjiro’s mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked. 
You didn’t even care how loud you were being, brain wiping out everything it had as your body arched and twitched. Manjiro only stopped lapping your cum when you flinched away, kissing your inner thigh before moving to you for a kiss. 
You let him inside your mouth easily, whimpering and pawing at his shoulder as you held him close. You shook in his embrace, muttering out weak and tiny ‘thank you’s that had him chuckling at you. 
“Did your Manjiro make you feel good, bubba?” 
“Uh-huh.” You nodded, kissing the corner of his lips in appreciation. 
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trashogram · 3 months
Text
He Chose You (Pt. 3)
Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer decides that you are the perfect person to be his baby mama.
Rated E, but the smut has been delayed due to personal matters. I apologize! Still not for kiddos though.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13
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“Hello there!”
Teeth. 
This man in your apartment — 
‘He was a duck. A fucking duck and now he’s a man. Oh my fucking god what the fucking fuck.’ 
                                                 — had shark teeth. 
If you’d had better control of your faculties — if you were capable of doing anything more than staring airily with mouth agape — you would’ve screamed bloody murder.
Instead, you sat there, unable to move and quickly succumbing to a sensation you could only described as detachment. 
His pointy smile gleamed despite the darkness. His whole person appeared to glow, in fact, giving you a clear view of his demonic approximation of a man in what could only be described as circus attire. 
You stared.
There was silence. The expression on his face fell slowly, showman’s smile melting until it barely lingered on his pallid face.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to get loud, heh.” The man-creature adopted an inside voice. “Hello.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you. I mean we’ve met before, obviously, but it’s nice to be able to meet you as me a-and you as you!”
The blond cleared his throat. Enthusiasm in full force as he pulled a cane out of behind his back and spread his arms out wide. 
“Allow me to introduce myself! I am Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell… and I am at your service, my lady.”
Lucifer bowed until his strangely nose-less face just about touched the floor. 
“… King of Hell…?” Your voice came out steadier than you thought it would. “You’re… Satan?”
“Ah-ha, ha, that’s a common misconception. Satan is actually a friend of mine!” Lucifer sprung up, pleased as punch to hear you finally speak. “People have called me a ton of different names; that’s what happens when you’ve been around for like, ever. It all gets jumbled and lost in translation. Like that game! Telephone!”
“Wait, no.” He snapped his fingers together a few times. “Is that…? No that’s not it. It’s, it’s, ah shit.”
“No, you’re right.” You replied mildly. ”It’s Telephone.”
Lucifer’s eyes lit up like firecrackers. He moved closer to you, step by step, while excitement squared his shoulders. 
“So, are you taking me to hell now?” Your flippant question stopped him dead. 
“Wait, what?” His shock snapped into nervous laughter. 
Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling contemplatively. “I didn’t think I was special enough to be brought down by the Devil himself.” 
“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Lucifer waved his arms frantically. “I’m not! You’re not! I would never!”
“I’m flattered. You didn’t have to come all this way, you know.”
“Hell is for sinners not — not for you!” The very real panic on his face was amusing to some part of your hindbrain as you stared back at him airily. “You’re - you don’t deserve to go to Hell. Ever!”
“… Why?”
Lucifer’s shoulders shook, eyes still bugging out of his skull before he took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was on the verge of a panic attack. 
“Well, because! Because you-uuu are a good person. Good people go to…” He inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily. “H-heaven.” 
You humored him with a smile, a kernel of pity lodged in your heart. It made sense that the Devil would hesitate before even naming Heaven. 
“No,” You course-corrected gently. “Why are you here?”
“Oh! Okay, yeah that. Great question! Thank you for asking!” The man-thing cartoonishly wiped at his brow, a silent ‘phew’ following. “I just wanted to, um…” 
Black gloves gesture wildly like Lucifer was fishing for words out of the air. 
“Ahh, I guess? The short answer is that I just wanted to meet you.” He smiled sheepishly. 
Your face felt numb, but you imagined that he could make out the want to raise your eyebrow questioningly from the blazé energy you were exuding. 
“See, actually, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself for days. You were moving in and I saw you and I wanted to say hello because you looked… ”
Fang-like teeth bit into his lower lip as Lucifer eyes darted to your form. That sheepish look had morphed into a mortified one when he could no longer make eye contact with you. 
“You looked like a ve-ery nice, helpful person and I thought to myself ‘gee, I don’t get to talk to a lot of nice, helpful people often — being as I am the ruler of Hell, and that’s not the nicest place around, right? Hah — so why not stop by and see if this person would be willing to talk to me?’” 
The cane in his gloved hands tapped against one palm impatiently, a shiny red apple glinting at the top. 
“Well, I, I mean that’s what I wanted to do when you first got here…” He trailed off with uncertainty. 
“But I just… I just kept fucking it up!” Lucifer knocked a fist against his face as if to say ‘stupid! stupid!’. “Every time I come up to knock on your door, I start thinking about all the ways it could go wrong and then I’d start getting antsy and I didn’t wanna freak you out!”
The Devil raked a hand through his platinum-blond hair. 
“I was just so afraid you’d run away screaming.” He sighed. “Which, while I thought that would be the worst case scenario, made a little more sense than right now with you taking this whole thing exceptionally well.” 
“Hmm,” You hummed, turning his words over in your mind. “Well I can’t run away, but I’m definitely screaming internally, if that’s helpful?”
Lucifer had the nerve to pout at your deadpan statement. 
“Maybe whatever you gave me at dinner caused a bad reaction?” You suggested. 
“Oh no. Well, maybe. I mean — I didn’t give that stuff to you. This was their idea.”
A bit of feeling was returning to your nose, and you could feel it scrunch up in confusion. “Your friends wanted to drug me?”
“My frie — Hah! Oh no, sweetie those aren’t my friends! Well, I mean they’ve let me crash at their place when I’m up topside, but that’s all part of our little agreement.” 
“Your agreement to-oo provide them with joy and laughter in their golden years as a pet duck?”
Lucifer guffawed loudly. “Oho! You are — that was funny! Hah, funny, kind, pretty, you’re the whole shebang aren’t ya?! — I knew picking you was the right move!”
‘Picking me?’ That got you to tilt your head with some effort, mouth opening to ask just that.
“Aha no, actually.” Lucifer cut you off. “That’s the other thing I was going to mention. I wasn’t gonna bring it up until a little while later, after we got to know each other.” 
Before you knew it, Lucifer had scuttled to your side and was sitting on the edge of the couch beside you, propping up the side of his head on one arm against the back. 
“Now’s as good a time as any.” You replied serenely. If you could shrug, you would’ve. 
Lucifer frowned while patterns into the couch cushion. “I wish I knew why you’re so darn agreeable. I mean, I love it! Makes this so much easier. But it’s also a little… weird.” 
You shifted to better face the Prince of Darkness, feeling a tingling sensation along one side. “I find it’s best to go with the flow during dreams. When I question things, they’re more likely to change into nightmares.” 
“Wh… what?” Your companion flinched back like you’d smacked him in the face. “You think this is a dream?”
“What else could it be?” Came your nonchalant response. “It’s either that or a hallucination from the drugs. I wouldn’t know, I don’t usually partake. But I’m pretty sure I fell asleep after my neighbors brought me back to my room, so I’m leaning toward that.”
The devil remained silent, that earlier expression of mortification making a comeback, as well as a slow-growing horror that made the unusually red spots on his cheeks drain down to pink. 
“No, no I’m not… I’m not a dream! This is real! I’m real!” Lucifer lurched forward suddenly, hands hovering centimeters from your lifeless arm. 
He swallowed thickly, making a decision in real time to peel off his glove and reach out to you with alabaster fingers. 
“See?” He asked softly, brushed against your shoulder down to your forearm with cautious claws. 
The nerve endings in your body had been waking up throughout your conversation with Not-Satan, but felt unusually sharp as his nails grazed your flesh. Lucifer’s hand was smoother than smooth, and cold like a glass window in winter. It was as if he were made of porcelain, solid yet fragile. 
And yet you felt a burgeoning warmth when he took hold of your hand. There was a faint heat coming from beneath his skin; a candle still burning somewhere beneath layers and layers of ice. 
You shivered violently, body and mind syncing as you both rejected and sought that impossible sensation. 
Lucifer, meanwhile, was staring at your hand in his, fingers entwined. He marveled at the image, hope blossoming from within, after an eternity of being grounded. 
Just to touch you, to be near you and bask in your body heat and the presence of your soul did wonders. 
“This is no dream. This is really happening.” He repeated softly. 
———————— Tag List:
@crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch
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deadandphilgames · 18 days
Text
A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)
Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.
In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright. My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.
Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.
It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.
This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.
Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.
All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.
Love and good luck.
- Dan
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spicyclover · 29 days
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You used me
Summary : It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did.
Next part of "You betrayed me"
Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.
Thank you! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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When the door closed that night, I collapsed on the floor of my kitchen, on the cold tiles. In the weeks that followed, I spent them in a blur. I kept myself busy to stop thinking, to stop thinking about you. I lived on automatism. I'm a fucking robot, because of you. I get up in the morning without motivation and go to bed with the ball in my stomach to meet you in my dreams.
I’ve been going over and over our conversation. I’m a bet. A fucking, humiliating bet. I have never been more shame than that evening. Everyone knew and no one told me. They knew that I loved you so bad, and I let you treat me like that. I'm so naïve. I just want myself back. I just wanted to be enough. Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? But don't tell me you're sorry. You should feel sorry for yourself. An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean.
Once the door was closed. My friends left with you. Because you bring them more than I could ever and it hurts like hell. To see these "friends" I know since my early childhood mock me for my naivety. Until this day, it is hard to believe. I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one, In a short time you became the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I like to dream. And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.
It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did. You betrayed me.
For the first time since we broke up, I saw you in the street. You had your arm on a new girl. Showing her off like she's a new trophy. A happy and rested look on your face. I wish I dared to come running and punch that smile off your face, but I couldn’t move. You hang out in public with her, but never with me. I went home with tears in my eyes and no morale. It was the first time I managed to leave home after weeks of moping.
The more time passed, the more I felt my head getting out of the water. My body was less numb and I started breathing again, enjoying what I used to love. I adopted a little puppy at this time of my life, the kind we talked about in our long late-night discussion about our future together. You gave me your word. He's the world to me now. Milo, the dog.
The late afternoon often takes me to the beach. I let Milo run on the deserted beach and play with the waves. I take advantage of this moment of calm to observe the sunset. I breathe in and out deeply, letting my last thoughts of you go into the sea. I feel free. After three months of hell, I’m back to normal, like you never existed.
"Hi, bab..." That voice is yours. Why do you come back? Why do you haunt me like that? I turn around and there you are, in all your splendour. Your curls are more beautiful than ever, your face more beautiful than ever. I can't let you win. I walk away from the beach. Milo follows me. I feel your eyes following me soon it's your footsteps I hear. "Please, Y/n, I need to talk to you."
"I think you said enough. You should go back to your new girlfriend. I think she's getting lonely." I said without looking back. The waves fade and I feel your hand grab my arm.
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help-itrappedmyself · 1 month
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Danny Punches a Clown part 9
masterpost
Danny is led up an unnecessarily long flight of stairs into a fancy house. The floors are all hardwood with rugs interspersed throughout the rooms.
     Hood starts leading him down the hallway and he can see paintings and antiquities, so many rooms. He is reminded vaguely of Vlad's mansion back in Wisconsin, but this seems larger, and better decorated. They end up in a living room of sorts, lots of different chairs and couches wand a huge TV lining a whole wall.
     Danny sits in one of the armchairs. Agent A soon comes in, with another tray of food. This tray seems to be for more than just him though. Hopefully. He could never hope to finish that many snacks by himself. 
     A isn't wearing a mask this time. “No masks upstairs, Master Jason. I'll keep the boy company until the rest of you get here.”
     Hood (Jason?) leaves and A introduces himself as Alfred. Apparently, he is the butler of the people that live here. Makes sense that people rich enough to live in this house would have a butler.
     Alfred lets him sit and eat for a few minutes in silence. The room gradually becomes more full as people come in and take their seats. They all introduce themselves as they come in and sit down. Damian and Dick sit together on a couch, with a girl he knows he’s never met before, Cassandra on Dick’s other side. Jason comes in and takes another armchair. Tim sits on a couch, a blond girl, Stephanie, and another boy, Duke, sit next to him. They all start working. Seems like Stephanie and Duke are in college, and Tim works at a big company. 
     Once the oldest person yet comes in, Bruce, and sits on an armchair, they all stop whatever else they were doing and turn to face him. He’s pretty sure he’s met most of them before while they were in masks, but other than Jason he doesn’t really know who is who. 
     “Can you tell us more about where you’re from now?” Bruce asked.
     Danny looks around the face in the room. They’ve all been helpful and kind. And he’s so tired of lying all the time. They’re most likely going to kick him out once they get their answers anyway.
     “I’m from a different dimension. I fled here after a fight.” Danny admitted.
They already seem less shocked than Danny would have imagined, and they aren’t calling him crazy yet, so this is going great!
     “There is a… war, almost? Starting in that world.” Danny gets fully into storytelling mode, as none of the others seem like they’re going to interrupt his thought process. “It all started with my parents actually. They started building a portal to the ghost zone, and that’s when it all went downhill really. Especially for me. I had my best friends over, they wanted to see the portal, so I took them down to the basement.”
     Danny took a deep breath. “My parents had put the on button inside of the portal, and when I went in… I hit it on accident. The portal turned on with me inside.”
     Everyone in the room remained quiet, and Danny couldn’t bear looking at their faces right now. He did his best to move on. “The portal was open, and ectoplasm started seeping into our town, we didn’t realize at the time, but that becomes a bigger problem later. At the time, we -or I- was busy becoming a one-man army against an invasion of ghosts. My parents started developing weapons. The government declared any being whose body could process or contained ectoplasm was non-sentient and could be kidnapped, experimented on, and/or killed at will. The Anti-Ecto Acts. The government branch dedicated to ghosts, the G.I.W, invaded Amity. Me and my friends had been capturing the ghosts causing problems and sending them back into the ghost zone. Now, we had to do that while trying to play keep-away with my parents and the government, while trying not to get captured myself. The government decided they wanted to send a nuke into the portal, trying to kill all ghosts at once."
     “I had to stop it. I was gathering all ghosts left in Amity to bring them with me to the Zone. My friends were going to close the portal behind us, destroy it. My parents had just finished their new gun.” Danny’s hand went to his side. “They chased us. I made it through the portal, with as many ghosts as I could find. Theoretically, the portal was closed once I left.”
     Danny was quiet long enough that the others realized he was done. 
     “I’m sorry that happened.” Danny heard, he looked up, but didn’t know who had said it. They all seemed sad.
     “And you’re… A ghost then?” Jason asked.
     “Only half.” They all looked bewildered at that. “It’s complicated."
     “So, you can’t go home?” Bruce asked.
     Danny shook his head. “If all went well then the portal doesn’t exist anymore, not that I could leave this dimension without a portal. I’m stuck here.” 
     “You’ll be staying with us then.” Bruce nodded firmly. “Metas are protected in this world, Danny. I’ve worked on a team with a ghost before. You’re safe here, Danny.”
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imababblekat · 9 months
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To Catch A Turtle
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@foxespen, "So part of the spiderman powers are having enhanced strength, right? So they could probably pick up any one of the turtles pretty easy, even if they stand at like half the brothers’ height. Imagine during a fight one of the boys gets thrown off a roof and their friendly neighborhood spider catches them and is just hold them bridal style and says like “if you’re gonna fall for me, it doesn’t have to be on a roof”Or something"
~xXx~
It wasn’t often the boys and (s,n) would get into a tough fight, but it seemed that with BeBop and Rocksteady, it always was one. They were two formidable foes for the ninja turtles alone, so having someone like you to fight along side them in these cases was always a welcome advantage.
When Donnie had relayed an alert from Casey, it wasn’t long till the four brothers found themselves fighting the two enemy mutants atop a bank building. Five minutes into the fight and you made your entrance by web launching yourself into BeeBop’s face, with a corny, “Starting the party without me I see!”, as you back flipped off the warthogs face. Just like that, with cheerful greetings, you and the crime fighting terrapins fell into sync, dishing out all you could against the other two. However, as the fight drew on, perhaps due to growing exhaustion, not everyone was able to stay on top of their toes.
“What do these guys even want?!”, you asked aloud, dodging a thrown pipe and landing next to Leo.
The leader in blue charged forward, swinging his dual swords at Rocksteady who was quick to hold up a chunk of broken building to block the attack. Narrowly ducking out of a punch from BeBop, Donnie swung his staff into the warthogs side, earning a harsh yelp from the assailant.
“Not sure. April thinks they’re making some sort of deal and need the cash to do so.”
“Stay out of our business, turtles!”, BeeBop snapped, grabbing Donnies staff and shoving the taller terrapin back into Raphael who had tried to attack from the side.
“The zoo’s not going to take you two, no matter how much you bribe them!”, you quipped, easily dodging Bebops attacks and jumping onto his back, blinding him with multiple web shots and tugging him in different directions as he started a blind rampage.
A loud laugh came from Mikey as he watched you rodeo the warthog, Leo and Donnie running towards you to assist.
“Good one, angel cakes!”, Mikey winked, just missing a punch from Rocksteady.
“The insects jokes are lame!”, the rhino grunted with irritation, grabbing a hold of Mikeys swinging nun-chuck and pulling him forward to give him a hard kick.
“Hey! Only I can call their jokes lame!”
Rocksteady quickly looked over at the person who had shouted, only to suddenly be tackled by a very heated Raphael. With a strong hold of the larger mutants midsection, the red clad ninja used all of his might to push the other to the edge of the building. Despite nearly having the wind knocked out of him by Raphael, Rocksteady was quick to firmly grasp his shell. With a loud grunt from above, Raphael had suddenly found himself being lifted into the air, staring down at a triumphant Rocksteady before being sent flying over the tall buildings edge. The last thing heard, as Raphael struggled to regain sense of what was up and what was down, were his brothers frantically shouting after him. At the height he just been thrown from, Raphael knew that even collapsing into his shell would prove futile to the crushing gravity once he hit the streets below.
Out of nowhere, Raphael felt his stomach lurch back and forth as something, or rather someone, swiftly swung him from one side of a building to another in a quick descent. It wasn’t till the world stopped spinning around him did Raphael peek open an eye, confusion followed quickly by shock when he realized who had been his savior.
“You know, Raphael, you make quite the cute damsel in distress if I do say so myself.”, you cheekily jested, and said turtle could just picture your eyebrows wagging beneath your mask.
(S,n) had been holding the bulky terrapin like he was air. Their arms snuggly wrapped beneath his knees and the midsection of his shell. Despite the alarming size difference, you cradled Raphael so carefully and securely, in a way that he had wished to someday carry a significant other. Yet, to be the one being held in such a manner, caused the macho man of a turtle to feel his face quickly heat up, and scramble out of your arms even quicker when he heard the approaching foot steps of his brothers. One could practically feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off of him, as he tried desperately to play things cool.
“What happened to BeBop and Rocksteady?”, Raph questioned his brothers, hoping beyond belief that they hadn’t seen a thing.
“They managed to get away, but not without leaving behind what they tried to steal. Casey and the NYPD are on their way to pick up the stolen goods.”, Leo informed, looking between his flustered sibling and the spider person beside him.
Raphael just let out a scoff, turning sharply and walking off in a random direction.
“Where are you going?”, Mikey confusingly asked.
“To find my sai's.”
“Your welcome by the way!”, you shouted out, to which Raphael simply sent you back a deep scowl before returning to his search.
Despite the aggravated grumbling you could hear come from the hot headed person you saved, you continued to smile to yourself, the squinted eyes of your mask telling of your hidden expression. Pulling out a pen and small note pad, the parchment labeled (s,n) Notes, Donnie began to scribble away.
“Did he even weigh anything to you?”, he questioned with scientific curiosity.
You shrugged, hands on your hips as you peered up at Donnie.
“Like a feather.”
“Oo, oo! Me next!”, Mikey excitedly shouted, bounding towards you at top speed.
Not even your spidey senses could have prepared you for Mikey’s suddenness, you both collapsing to the ground just as you’d barely caught him in your arms. Leo merely shook his head in slight disappointment, Donnie continuing to jot down notes, and Raphael in the distance still trying to calm his flustered heart.
~xXx~
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