#big yikes and then it just got worse

[broodygaming]

I took the train to go back and forth to my friends wedding and on the way back decided to be cheeky and download the Girl On the Train audiobook. Didn’t know anything about it, hadn’t heard of it or the movie that apparently exists.

And ?? Are the straights okay? I could barely make it more than an hour or two. It’s exhausting and I don’t think I’ve even gotten to the first big twist. I think there’s a bloody scene and it’s on the plot description of the wiki page so it’s prob relatively early and I have not gotten to that haha so holy shit. Don’t think I’ll finish it. Ehh. It took so much effort to learn their names it feels like a waste to not finish it but also YEESH it’s exhausting.

[moviestarmartini]

what the FUCK is going on in the house of williams

[eternalratsuperhell]

i like rereading old messages from my toxic ex friends

like yes!!!! i’m gonna!!!!! read the forgotten scrolls!!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You gag into your hand, shaking. You gurgle and shake out your fingers, the motion of the car adding to your sickness. The man beside you growls. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" 

"Eeek, it's so gross," you drag your tongue against the roof your mouth, like a llama about to spit, "it tastes so bad!" 

You give another repulsed noise and shudder. The salty, sticky, sweaty flavour stains your mouth. You feel like you can even smell it. 

"You don't think it tastes gross?" 

"Do you think I taste my own cum?" He snorts. 

"Like I said, the internet--" 

"Maybe you should cut that out and grow up. You might not be knee deep in shit if you did." 

"I-- me. Sir, you're the one--" 

He reaches over and flicks your throat, right in your esophagus, and cough in pain as you fold over. 

"You think your funny? We'll see who's laughing soon enough," he grits as he slaps his hand back on the steering wheel. "Come into my town and.... bullshit... laughing..." 

He rants under his breath as he drives on. You feel the daggers he sends in your direction as he drives. You'd rather he focused on the road because he just blew a red. 

"So... if you're not the mayor..." you begin as you sit up. You see your reflection in the side mirror; yikes.  

"Don't fucking start," he warns and points a finger, hitting the wheel, "I swear you want to die. Don't you?" 

"Mayors don't talk like that so... no," you frown. "Look, Fl-- Lloyd," you enunciate slowly, "you keep saying I should know who you are but I don't, okay?" 

"Are you going to keep talking?" He grumbles. 

"Sorry, sorry," you rub your neck, your throat still throbbing, "I'm... trying." 

"Not hard enough," he sneers, "all you need to know is to shut your mouth and listen. Got it, sweet lips?" 

You nod and cross your arms, "got it." 

He sighs and eases off the gas. You sit forward and crane around. Where the heck are you? You've never been to this end of town. 

"Sit back," he shoves your shoulder so you hit the seat, "can't see through you despite the empty space in your skull." 

You curl your shoulders in and lower your head. Your adrenaline slowly recedes. Oof, that hits hard. Not worse than anything you've been told before but having a moment to think about it, about everything that's happened on the last few hours, it doesn't feel good. 

You languish in the silence and watch the blend of brick and pavement through the car window. This is just another I told you so. Your parents will be all too happy to laugh on your face. And those old friends who kept you around to make themselves feel better. 

He huffs as he slows and rolls up to a large gate, "come on, cheeks, don't get all pouty now. The fun part's not even begun." 

You lean forward to see beyond the gate as it opens at the touch of his phone screen. You can't help but feel awe at the sprawling yard and towering modern mansion. These places only exist on screens. 

"Aw, baby face, you're seeing all sorts of big things today, huh," he scoffs. 

You don't react. He sways dangerous between menacing and mocking. He might not have told you outright who or what he is, but you can guess by his flagrant threats and even more exorbitant wealth. No on is that cocky or that rich through innocent means. 

He rolls through and the gate shuts without prompt. Like a motion sensor or something just as fancy as the rest of this place. You wonder how long it takes the army he no doubt employs for the task to trim and style the lawn. You almost understand why he was so finicky about his coffee. Almost. 

Yet that glimmer of defiance needles in the back of your head. If he's so rich and better than you, why wasn't he hitting some high end place where they infuse their coffee with diamonds or whatever? You suppose he might enjoy feeling like a giant as he walks among the anthills. 

Figuring out this man won't do you any good. Even if you could. None of that matters. You've stepped on his toes and he's not going to let yours go unstomped. 

He pulls in along a row of egregiously expensive luxury cars; one for seemingly every day of the week. It wouldn't surprise you. Well, you’re in such a stupefied state, nothing can. 

His seat belt repeals sharply and he swings open the driver's door. You jolt back and look around. Do you get out too? He slams the door and your doubt is quashed as he taps on the window with his knuckles.  

You undo your belt and feel around the door. Where the heck is the handle? These things have to be so sleek and sophisticated that you can never figure anything out. The door opens before you can find the release and you look up sheepishly at Lloyd.  

You get out and step aside as he shut the door with a flick of his wrist. You peer around and twiddle your thumbs. What exactly happens now? 

You stop short as he heads toward the stone steps along the house's facade. You're struck by a startling epiphany. He might be right about you in some ways. How did it take this long to realise?  

You've been abducted. 

He stops at the door and looks back at you, "look, honey bun, I'm getting fucking tired. Stop pussyfooting around and come on." 

"Um, sir, F--Lloyd," you put your hands up, "Mr. Hansen, so, when do I get to go home because this feels kinda... entrapment-y." 

"If I have to drag you," he snaps. 

"Alright, alright," you keep your palms put and scurry forward, "I'm just asking questions. It's been a strange day." 

"Fucking tell me about it," he mutters. "Ah, ah, sweet lips," he puts hisbarm out to block you from the front door, "rule one: beyond these doors, you're naked. That's it. Full access all the time." 

You double take. Full on Three Stooges pantomime. You nearly fall on your ass. 

"Wh-at?" Your voice catches. 

"If I have to keep repeating myself--" he warns. 

"But what if I get cold?" 

"Oh my fucking god," he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you to face him, "I should fucking break that jaw." 

He claws at your shirt and rips it up your body. You flinch with the force of his rude undressing. You squeak as he untangles your tee then shoves down your sweats, nearly taking your undies with them. He snaps the elastic with his index. 

"Everything, baby girl," he demands and glares at you, crossing his arms. His cheek twitches and his jaw squares. Without the lip fur he might be decent. 

You wiggle free of your pants and step out of them, then your panties. Your bra gives you some trouble as one of the hooks is bent. As you stand naked out in the summer breeze you feel strangle calm. It's kind of freeing. 

You look at him and find him eyeing you up and down; that's a little more oppressive. You make a face. "Shoes off or..." 

"Everything. Fuck, you gotta ruin it with that mouth," he barks and turns to strut through the door, "...drive me fucking insane...for what...pussy?" 

You stare after him and exhale, stepping over the threshold. A lot has happened and you still haven't got your head around it all. Maybe it's better that way.

[snaileer]

Dare to Live (Part 2/2)

DPxDC Part 1

It all started with a dare really. You’d think, after all these years, after having done at least a /bit/ of growing up, Danny would be able to refuse a dare from his best friend.

But here he was, about to drop through a mystic portal with full intentions to make Tucker eat his words.

And Sam too, for agreeing!

“Come on Danny, times a ticking, sands a wasting.” Tucker said in a sing song voice, floating behind the portal lazily.

“Yeah, Danny, we didn’t spend two days finding the perfect dimension just for you to chicken out,” Sam said, laying on her back in the air and pretending to inspect her nails.

Danny felt his eye twitch.

“I told you, Sam, he couldn’t be mysterious and mystical if he tried, even under pain of a double. Dog. Dare.” Tucker emphasized.

Danny whipped his head around, staring his best friend in the eyes, “You really think so Tucker? A double dog dare?”

Tucker smirked, leaning back with his arms crossed and a smug look, “I know so.”

“Then prepare to eat Lunch Lady’s hairnet, Tuck, you’re on!” Danny grinned and shot backwards through the portal.

He relished the way Tuckers face went green as he passed through. Well, greener.

Danny turned invisible the moment he felt the resistance of a dimensional barrier go past him, and boy was that the right decision, the whole place was in chaos.

Danny floated invisibly in the sky with a puzzled look on his face. Was that guy… flying? What in the-?

A laser beam passed through him, making Danny look down to see he was intangible, but why? Could he be tangible again? He focused, and yep, there he was, tangible and visible- visible?! Danny lost focus and disappeared again.

Hmm, okay so looks like his default state here is invisible and intangible but like even more so than back home, interesting.

Danny looked back at where the laser came from, surprised to see an entire ship behind him. And not like a pirate ship, oh no, not even a cruise liner, a big, bony looking alien ship.

Danny wanted to squeal! Aliens! This realm had aliens!

Calm down Danny, remember the dare, mysterious, mystical, think, what gives off big mystical vibes?

Ok, first off, royalty. Danny summoned his crown, ring, sword, and cape, ok good but what else?

Eldritch maybe?

Okay he’s already got fangs, and blue skin, he could probably let his hair be a little more free floaty, and he’s already a full grown adult with shoulders like his dad, that should be enough right?

Another laser shot through him.

Rude!

He looked back, surprised to see a group of people aiming weapons at the big alien ship. He looked closer.

Was the… was the alien ship trying to… to crush this city?

Were these…. bad aliens?

Noooooo, that meant he had to stop them! But he likes aliens!

Danny reluctantly reared up to punch the big ship, pausing when he saw how the other flying people were struggling against it.

Oh Idea?

Super-strength? Now there was mysterious and mystical.

He smirked, oh he had the perfect entrance!

Thank youuu Kingly strength.

Danny positioned himself in front above the ship then created a double actually touching the ship.

He let himself appear, keeping his double invisible as he held out a hand and then swiped it down, using the double to push the ship into the ground.

Luckily, as Danny had just noticed, the ship seemed to be floating just outside the main city area and most everything below it was already destroyed.

Err, well, it certainly was now.

He fought the urge to wince. Mystical powerful beings in the sky don’t wince, Danny.

Still, he looked around at all the destruction. He hadn’t been back in a human realm since his own life, and the destruction had been common place then too, in his own hometown at least.

This was… worse, much worse. He really had to hold back a grimace as he saw a couple ghosts start forming on the edges, he could feel that they were feeding off of his own ambient ectoplasm.

Yikes okay, maybe giving a source of brand new ectoplasm at the sight of a disaster was not the best idea but… he could fix this!

Danny held out his arms, calling the newly formed ghosts to him, letting them use him as a portal to the Zone.

And then he very quickly locked up his aura from releasing more. No one saw that right?

He stood there floating for a minute before he saw the blue and red flying man begin to approach him.

He smirked again, aw yeah time to see if it worked!

Danny lowered himself marginally to meet the man in the middle.

“I am Superman,” Weird name but okay, “Protector of Earth. Thank you for helping us. But…” Superman looked hesitant, “Who are you?”

Aw crap, okay think Danny, big dramatic name, do NOT blurt out your real one. Double dog dare, come on think of something, anything, you have been staring for way too long-

“I am High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms of the Eighth Dimension; The Great One, Feller of the Tyrant Pariah Dark, Tamer of Vortex, Conquerer of My Future Now Past, Keeper of Death and Life, Wielder of the Ring of Rage, Bearer of the Crown of Fire and The One True Balance.” Danny blinked slowly, hoping that was ‘mystical’ enough for Sam because ancients he was really running out of coronation titles there.

“You are well met Superman, Protector of… Earth.”

Hang on. Earth? He was on Earth? Not his Earth but really this was Earth? With Aliens?

He wanted this to be his Earth, dang it why did he have to get the boring ghost invested one?!!

The man looked like he wanted to back up by about thirty steps so.. it worked?

“And.. Your Majesty is here because…?”

Danny stopped his gentle float.

Uhhh. Uhh. Okay good reason, think of a good reason to be here. Visiting? No that’s dumb, it’s not a zoo. Uhh, curious, no that’s not mysterious enough! Okay mysterious, mysterious, think mysterious. OooOooooOo, MysTeRIouSssss.

Who does he know that’d be mysterious enough to pull this off?

…

Clockwork!

Okay, what would Clockwork say? Uhhhh

“You will find out all in due time, Superman of Earth,” Was that good? No that sounded threatening, “But for now, I am here simply to observe.” That was better right? Okay leave before he asks more questions.

Danny floated down to where the other colorfully dressed people stood in a semi-circle.

Well colorful and one in all black.

“Superman, who is this?” The one in all black said with a glare as he stepped forward.

Danny opened his mouth to recite the titles again, points for mystical-ness, when he was cut off.

“Batman, this is King Phantom of the Eighth dimension, he’s… visiting?”

‘Batman’ raised an eyebrow under his cowl, “Eighth dimension, is that at all related to your troubles with a certain fifth dimensional imp?”

Now Danny felt justified in being at least a little offended, “Watch your tongue, Man of Bats,” that was a sufficiently mystical naming right?, “Accuse me of being a fifth dimensional pest again and we shall see how long you last in no dimensions at all,” Danny paused, “Mortal.”

Ha, in your face Tucker, he was so good at this!

Tag list:

@blep-23 @theblackcatscratchpost @fylylowo @coruscateselene @breesperez139 @kataaitheskittle

[phyrestartr]

The Intern [2] | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader

#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now), blowjob, reader gets lectured and likes it, reader has daddy issues

Note: heheheheh

-- The Intern --

[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]

Miguel had to admit, he was surprised–he didn’t expect you to carry on like nothing happened.

Most people he’d fucked around with in the past, be it in school or during his tenacious dating life, would stomp their feet and quit whatever club, sport, or job they’d joined just to get close to Miguel, just to get a shot with him. He couldn’t blame them. He saw himself as a pretty good-looking guy, a smart man, one that took care of himself and could turn on the charm without even trying; he got what he wanted more often than not, and that included the people who threw themselves at him. He always wondered why they thought they’d somehow cement themselves into his life after just one night. 

But then there was you. You, who still sat with Gabi when you had the time. You, who still helped her with her homework, who still listened to her long-winded rants about whatever movie she obsessed over that week, who still got the shy little thing to talk and smile and laugh. It made something weird and thick weigh down Miguel’s chest, like molasses found a way to suffocate him from the outside. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be fucked and forgotten like the rest. 

And he found you there, still, on a day where Gabi was busy with a playdate at the Parker’s household. Maybe this was the best chance he’d get to talk to you again. 

“Alone, huh?” Miguel asked before sitting across from you, a cup of coffee warming his hands. “Kinda sad.”

You sighed and looked out the window, filled to the brim with drama. “You’re tellin’ me. I got abandoned by a kid. This is worse than bein’ stood up, let me tell ya.” 

Yikes. Was what Miguel did the same as standing you up? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to think about it too much. 

"Right, right." Miguel cleared his throat and leaned in a little. "About the other night–" 

"What?" You asked, looking a little too dumb for your internship spot suddenly. 

"Halloween." Miguel looked at you meaningfully and your lips pursed slowly, just like the day he first saw you. Miguel gave a tight-lipped smile. 

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. "I, uh, dunno if this is the right place to talk about that. Dunno if there is a right place to talk about that, if 'm bein' honest." 

"Let's talk in my office," Miguel said, not offering room for argument or questions as he stood and started walking. 

"Wh–now?" 

"Yes, now." 

–

Well, you were supposed to be talking, not blowing him under the desk. Thank god the department heads got their own private spaces. 

One of Miguel's big hands fisted in your hair, holding back your soft locks so he could get a good look at your face as it twisted in concentration. You took him too easily for how big he was, each languid dip of your head welcoming him down your tight, hot throat until–until–

"Mierda–" Miguel pushed your head down to his base, forcing your nose flush up against his well-trimmed hair and blushing skin. You groaned and gagged as he bucked into your mouth and unloaded thick, sticky strands of cum down your throat. You swallowed around him, doing your best to take it all down. 

A harsh bite from you had Miguel letting go and leaning back in his seat. He panted and rubbed his face, but his eyes snapped back to you as you took your time getting off of him. He expected you to pull off and make a mess while you snapped and scolded him, but you went slowly, not rushing. 

Your tongue worked him through the aftershocks, rubbing under his length and thoughtfully tracing the thick veins and sensitive muscle still pulsing from your pampering. Miguel's fingers carded through your hair again as he watched you work; your hand slipped up and gripped his base once enough was out of your mouth to hold. You ran your tongue around him once, twice, thrice, before sucking on that thick, darkened head for much longer than necessary. Maybe you just wanted to be thorough. Maybe you just couldn't get enough of him. 

"Gonna get me worked up again, 'f you keep doing shit like that," Miguel warned, something of an excited laugh fluttering through this soft panting. 

You took a second to swallow (Oh, God, you were torturing him) before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Do you want me to get you all worked up again, Doc?" 

That pesky hand around his shaft tightened before stroking him firmly and fully. Miguel sighed and melted into his chair. He could probably let you pamper him for hours, if his sex drive were to be trusted. Maybe he could–

"Kidding," you said with a mean wink. You kissed the tip of his cock before letting go and parking your ass on his desk. "So. About Halloween?" 

Miguel blinked away the whiplash and scrambled to tuck himself away. "I, uh–yeah. Halloween." He nodded to himself in thought, definitely remembering what he wanted to discuss. 

You stared at him, so expectant, before leaning in and resting your elbows on your knees. "N'awe, did I suck the brain cells right outta your pretty head, Doc?" You fake pouted, and Miguel scowled. 

And he blushed. Just a little. "I just–I was just–y'know what? Maybe you deserved it."

"Pft. I deserved what?" You asked, leaning back onto your palms then. “Bein’ hit then quit?” 

Miguel frowned. His brows drew together and his jaw set uncomfortably while he looked away. It seemed to make you a little uncomfortable by the way you moved to reach toward him before deciding against it. Your hand combed through your hair instead and you sighed, surrendering. 

“Look, I–if I seriously expected the royal treatment from a guy totin’ a wedding band on his pretty lil’ finger, I’d be a shockin’ moron, alright?" You sighed and rubbed your face with both hands. "I mean--it's just s'pposed to be sex, man. Sex ain't complicated like that." 

Miguel narrowed his eyes at you. "I’m–what are you–sex is complicated." His palms landed on your thighs as he leaned in. “You don’t actually think–”

"Sex is busting and moving on with life,” You interrupted sharply. You grew tense for a moment, but forced a relaxed laugh. “I'm kinda surprised you didn't get me fired, if I'm being real."  

The realization hit Miguel fast and hard, knocking the goddamn wind out of his stupid lungs--you were the type of guy left in the dust, the sort that shit heads like Miguel hit and quit, fucked and forgot. The sorry dregs of an exciting sex life filled with names he didn't care about and some he couldn't bother to remember. But Miguel knew your name. But did that even matter to you?

"But, uh…I should get goin', so. Yeah. Good talk." You made your move to shuffle off the desk, but Miguel's hands on your thighs didn't budge. "Oy, I gotta go, old man. You hard of hearing already? Should I call the nursing home or–" 

"Santa Muerte, do you ever stop talking?" Miguel sighed and shook his head. "I haven't said my piece yet, kid." 

You pursed your lips, probably holding back some cursed joke about giving him a blowie, and nodded. "Okay. Say your piece." 

"I will. And you're gonna shut up while I talk, got it?" 

"Got it." 

"Good." Miguel took a deep breath to calm the storm in his chest. "First of all, you've got the wrong idea about sex. It matters. Even if you're just sleeping around, it's because you're looking for that connection. It's a good thing. A beautiful thing. So, I don't want to hear you say all this shit about sex not mattering. Especially when you're talking about sex with me." He looked you up and down, and the fond feeling curled up his chest stretched and lazed like a cat sunbathing. "Got it?" 

You nodded, a vibrant dusting of red saturating your skin. That doe-eyed look was back on your face, just like the first time you'd hooked up with him in his office. He really did adore it. He maybe kinda adored you. 

"Good." He fidgeted with your slacks, pulling on the crisp material with busy fingers as he thought about sentence structure and syntax and connotation and–and– 

Just say it, Miguel. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween." 

You laughed shyly. "I--what?" He watched you rub your cheek like you were trying to rid yourself of the scarlet blush staining your skin. Miguel had to admit, your reactions were doing wonders for his ego. 

"I said," He started, leaning in a little, lowering his voice. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween." After a pause, a beat to get you to say something, he continued, "I'm sorry, alright? It's not happening again." 

Another laugh (more like a giggle) bubbled out of you, just as nervous and shy as the last. Your hands fussed with your hair and your tie, your lab coat and your cuffs, until your nerves calmed a bit, the slow circles rubbed into your thighs helping to ease you down from hysteria. It was embarrassing. You were embarrassed. But you were happy.

"Y-yeah, alright. Cool. Neat." You coughed. "Awesome. Uh, I just–you–I have to–" and you leaned down, almost tumbling off the desk, and kissed him. 

Miguel hummed deep in his chest–a heartfelt welcome to your needs and wants. His chair shifted slightly as you haphazardly slipped off the desk and into his lap, expertly never breaking the kiss, and getting comfortable; your arms looped around his shoulders, your hands fisted and carded through his hair, your thighs rested on either side of his slim waist. 

“You’re shockin’ hot when you’re bein’ nice t’ me,” you mumbled against his lips, maybe a bit into his mouth. “But in that, y’know, authoritative dad kinda way.” Your breath stuttered when a mischievous hand slipped into your slacks and cupped your toned ass with a firm squeeze. 

Miguel smirked. “Daddy issues, huh?” Your small scoff and the firm tug of his hair answered him. His smirk warped into a grin. “Want me to scold you more, huh? You get off on that?” 

“You keep talkin’ shit and I’m calling you papi in public, dickhead,” you mumbled as you fumbled with the zipper of his pants. You paused though, and looked up in thought. ��But you could help me with my taxes. That’d be really sexy of you.” 

Miguel blinked stupidly for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “Why am I not surprised you’re shit at taxes?” God, you were cute. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not shit at them, I just hate them.” You shrugged before very casually slipping his hard-on out of his pants and giving it a few preparatory strokes. “Could use some tips.”

“Or an accountant,” Miguel offered. It was your turn to blink dumbly. “You think I handle my own money? I pay someone to do it.” 

“Huh. You’re seriously in a different tax bracket.” You squeaked when Miguel somehow managed to rip down your slacks down to your mid-thigh. “Hey–” 

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He helped the pants off of you while you half-stood to get the damn things off, letting them hang off one leg in your haste to get the party started. “And I’ll get my accountant to take care of your taxes.” 

That had you beaming. “I think we’re entering sugar daddy territory, Doc.” You grinned between the sweet kisses you dotted along his jawline. Miguel felt the barest scraping of teeth against his skin, and his cock swelled more. What he wouldn’t give to let you bite and marr him as you wanted. 

But he couldn’t, not with Dana’s skeptical eyes and Gabi’s naive glances watching him from every angle. 

“It’s our little secret,” Miguel whispered with a kiss left against your cheek. 

Your lips found his again, letting your  impish smile sear his skin with sanguine intent, like a contract signed with the devil. 

Miguel would do anything to keep extending that contract. 

[void-wolfie]

Daddy Issues

summary: you sneak in through Sam's window one night to escape the rain and issues at home.

pairing: Samantha Carpenter x fem!Reader

tw: angst/fluff, mentions of abuse and alcohol

words: 1.37k

a/n: there was a different fic I was going to post, but I liked this one better

**if mentions of abuse are a trigger for you, I recommend not reading (doesn't go in-depth, but it is talked about)

You tapped on the window, hoping she was still awake. The fog coating the glass and the rain splattering your face made it difficult to see in. Just as you were about to give up, the window slid open and a pair of arms pulled you in.

"What are you doing here?" Her face was impassive, you couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"Uh, I'm sorry," you looked around the room, down at your feet, just anywhere to avoid eye contact, "I just- can I crash here for the night?"

She gave you a puzzled look.

"Your mom doesn't even have to know I'm here, I'll-"

"What happened to your face?" Within seconds she was in your space, grabbing your chin to better see your face in the dim lighting.

Oh. That.

"Uh, nothing. I got into a fight after school,"

It was a blatant lie, one she could see right through, "With who?"

"It doesn't matter,"

"y/n-"

"Sam, please."

She sighed, looking over at the door as if contemplating her options. If her mom ever knew you were here... yikes. But it was you, she'd do anything for you.

"Take off your hoodie, you're soaked."

You were soaked head to toe from the storm outside, having to walk here on foot wasn't exactly fun in the pouring rain, but you weren't sure where else to go.

You did as you were told, leaving you in just your sports bra and jeans. If you hadn't been facing the other way you might've caught the small glance Sam sent your way. The sight of you shirtless sent her thoughts running wild, she had to remind herself friends don't think those things about each other.

Those thoughts quickly left as she saw the state of you, though. Your sides were riddled with purple and yellow bruises. Most of them were obviously fresh, and she'd hate to see how they'd look tomorrow.

By the time you had it off and turned back around, she was handing you a dry pair of shorts and one of her hoodies.

You mumbled a thank you before going to get changed in the little bathroom connected to her room. The hoodie was a little big on you, but you could care less. It was warm, dry, and even smelt like her. The idea of you wearing something hers gave you butterflies.

You opened the little bathroom door and before you could even make it to the doorway, she pushed you back. She picked you up and sat you down on the countertop. She grabbed the little first aid kit she kept from under the sink and started cleaning the cuts on your face.

The one on your lip wasn't too bad, it'd probably hurt like a bitch in the morning though. The one across your eyebrow was worse. The area around it was already black and blue and you were lucky you didn't need stitches.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

"Don't move." She mumbled, "This might sting."

She poured antiseptic into the cut, and it took everything in you not to yell out in pain. You squeezed the counter and hissed, trying to hold yourself together, even if it was only for her.

“‘Might sting’ my ass," you muttered. You saw Sam smile at the comment, and all those butterflies from earlier flooding back.

After she was done cleaning you up, she put the kit away and led you back into her room, nudging you toward the bed.

"In."

"You don't have to-"

"I'm not letting you sleep on the damn floor. Now in."

You huffed. When Sam made up her mind, there was almost always no changing it.

You crawled under the covers and to the far edge of the bed, putting as much distance between you and Sam as possible. It's not that you didn't want to be around her, you very much did want to be around her. You just didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

Sam turned off the lights as she crawled under the covers, the only light left in the room coming from the nightlight in the corner. Still plugged in for those nights Tara would have nightmares and crawl in next to Sam.

"You gonna tell me who did that to you? Without the lies this time."

"Santa Claus," you deadpanned.

"I’m being serious."

"How do you know I'm not? That man breaks into homes for a living and people think it's cute-"

"y/n." She cut off your rambling. Even in the dark room, you could make out the deadly look on her face.

"Do we really have to talk about it?"

"Yes."

She was determined. You could see it in her eyes. If you didn't tell her now, she'd just find some way to pull it out of you tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, so on and so forth.

"My dad."

“Your dad did this to you?”

You nodded, playing with the strings on her hoodie to avoid making eye contact. Rolling the string up, unrolling it. Rolling it up, unrolling it. Repeat.

"Why?"

"He caught me trying to steal his bottle of Jack,"

"He pummeled you over alcohol?" If the look on her face was any indication, she was pissed. Nothing could’ve justified the beating you took, but all of this over a bottle of Jack. It was ridiculous.

She knew your relationship with your father was rocky, borderline abusive, but she had no idea how bad it truly was, you made sure to hide that from her.

You shrugged, "Can we stop talking about it now, please."

"Only if you promise to go get that checked out by the school nurse in the morning," she said, referring to the cuts on your face.

"And play 20 questions with Nurse Ratched, pass."

"y/n-"

"Sam, please."

You seemed to be saying that a lot tonight, and you weren’t really a fan. Begging wasn’t your style, not even for Sam. But you didn’t need to draw more attention to yourself than necessary.

Your mother died when you were little, car accident. Or, at least, that’s what your father tells you. If people start asking questions, well you had a feeling it would only get the authorities involved and you didn’t want that. Not when all they would do is take you away, put you in some foster facility, and you’d never see Sam or any of your other friends ever again.

Something in her resolve cracked. She let it go. Whether just for now, or for good you had no clue, but you'd take the win.

"You’re gonna fall off the bed sleeping like that." She switched the subject, referring to how you were perched on the edge of the mattress.

"Yeah, well, how do you propose I sleep miss know-it-all?"

She rolled her eyes, though, you could see a hint of a smile on the corners of her lips, "Get your scrawny ass over here, smartass,"

"Jeez, Sam, I don't know how I feel about you looking at my ass-"

She knew you weren't gonna move so she settled on moving you herself instead. She grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in, effectively cutting off whatever sarcastic retort you had lined up.

If your heart beat any faster, you were sure her mom could hear it from across the house.

Her arms were wrapped around you securely with your legs tangled in between hers. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel safe. Safer than you'd felt in your own house recently, maybe even in years.

"Now go to sleep, we have class in the morning and it's already late enough."

Part of you wanted to wiggle out of her arms and go back to sleeping on the edge of the bed. But the other part of you was comfortable. Against your better judgment, you wrapped your arms around her and snuggled into her chest.

You were asleep in minutes. Sam could feel your erratic heartbeat finally slow, beating to the same rhythm as hers. She placed a light kiss to the top of your head before falling asleep herself, making sure to hold you tight all night.

[paradoxbeta]

WHO IS EOC? i am very curious now!!!

>:) okay SO

tumblr picture formatting is utter garbage and i dont want these to take up too much space so im cramming these drawings into one row (or not if this crapsite breaks on me, because it seems to be REALLY fighting me on this, so if it ends up not making a nice little picture row know that i tried my best). but this is effigy of composure!

he has a couple problems, but the big one is that his superstructure has a terrible parasite situation. the parasites are flat, thin, and able to make it into grooves and pipes the inspectors cant reach. flushing out doesnt do much to dislodge them and they breed faster than they can be killed, so theyve happily made their homes in this sheltered, food-rich haven (to the obvious distress and horror of the host iterator). originally the concept for these parasites were much closer to centipedes and had the placeholder name "synapcipedes," but ive since started leaning more towards an obvious tapeworm motif for them because its gross and i enjoy it morbidly. it also has some pretty cursed implications if you think about it for too long which i have decided are funny/really disgusting/so stupid that they have to stay. i still flipflop between considering them centipedes vs tapeworms though and i dont think thatll ever be rigidly defined. the ambiguity is nice to toy with

on the top 10 list of "things that are not fun" having turbo worms has to be somewhere up there, so eoc has it *rough,* and kind of sort of eventually barrels off into the deep end because of it. his futile attempts to clean his own structure are frustrating enough, and the constant feeling of bugs crawling all over the inside of his body (which only gets progressively worse with time) does no favors either. however, the real big reason why he mentally declines is just because there's a ton of centi-worm things eating like fire through his neurons and other what-have-yous that iterators need to think and function. i think if he only got hit with one of these 3 things then he might have been able to hang onto his sanity, but with the triple combo he doesn't really stand a chance of doing much except stalling his functional death. which is good on him because if i was an iterator and my overseers told me i had a structure infestation, my mental health would have just preemptively swan dived off a bridge before anything even happened

anyhow, exponential parasite population growth meant exponential increase in all this other fun stuff, which means the time from the beginning of the infection to the time eoc is considered officially gone is startlingly short (for iterators, at least). it still took quite the while because losing your marbles is a loonnnng process, but still, yikes. its unfortunate because eoc was a real jokester pre-everything, and a cool guy to talk to. he was one of those people who could come up witty comments for anything like hed been ripped from the script of a sitcom. oh yeah, also, should have mentioned this earlier, but he ends up accidentally amassing a scavenger cult mid-insanity which goes hilariously bad because he's barely aware it's happening. nothing really works out for this poor iterator.

tldr: eoc gets parasites, they erode his brain, he goes nuts about it, (accidentally amasses a cult,) dies

[lu-dao-writes]

— 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐞 (𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧)

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 He’s just trying to help you out… Right?

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Manipulation, ignoring boundaries, reader is touch starved but also touch repulsed, anxiety, bottling up emotions, vomiting, abusive behavior, non consensual touching (there’s no rape if anyone is wondering), mentions of blood and gore, bathing, nudity (no sex).

𝘼/𝙉 I’m not surprised by the poll results lol🤣. But here ya go! Something short, simple, and angsty. I wanna preface though that this does get quite uncomfortable because it’s someone blatantly ignoring boundaries when there’s clear signs they don’t want to be touched. So if you find that triggering, please do not read this. If anyone in your life ever does this, I implore you to cut them out of your life. Please heed the warnings.

Today had truly been a long, grueling day with things not going your way.

Your only lead to infiltrating the Senobium turned out to be a total waste of time, then your stomach got fucked by whatever the hell you bought from a stall afterwards. And then a hunt for a soulless you took for some coins ended with you showered in its guts.

When you arrive at the Wet Wick, your face stormy and exhausted, covered in gore and blood and smelling of rot, you make the bar go silent.

Many patrons lean away from you as you walk by, some nearly hurling, and Leander is quick to meet you before you reach the steps.

“Yikes, Sunshine. You don’t look so hot.”

You bite back a retort.

“Here let’s get you upstairs.”

You honestly want to be left alone, but you don’t have the heart to tell him, not when he so concerned about you as he always is.

Once in your room, Leander drags out a tub while you hold your breath and strip out of your disgusting layers, nearly gagging a few times as you touch the filth.

With his magic he fills up the tub with warm water and goes to fetch some oils, soap for your body and hair, and a pitcher.

With him going about getting those items, you sink into the tub with a sigh, soon frowning as the pristine water turns murky with gore.

“Here ya go,” Leander chirps, your heart leaping into your throat.

He passes the rag to you as well as a bar of soap before dropping in some oils. “That’s my favorite soap, doesn’t it smell good?”

You take a short whiff and hum. “Yeah..”

You jump when Leander’s hand suddenly invades the water, brushing against the skin of your thigh and his other holding your shoulder for support. You go to snap at him when you watch as the water slowly turns from dark and murky to clear and clean.

“I know you don’t wanna bathe in gore all over again,” he says, giving you a cheeky smile, looking proud of himself.

“Yeah… Thanks,” you mutter, shifting to try and get his touch off as you lather your rag with the bar of soap.

You thought he’d leave you be to go back to entertaining his Hounds, but no. He stays where he is, hovering behind you and helping you clean up.

Although, it doesn’t bother you that he sees you in such a vulnerable state of nakedness, you having grown used to bathing with others and not viewing yours and others bodies as inherently sexual.

But you’re on edge. Leander has a big presence, literally and figuratively, and he’s making you feel worse, making you feel suffocated, agitated, and guilty for feeling that way when he’s been nothing but generous and wonderful ever since you met.

Leander has scratched the itch of wanting touch, showing you it’s possible, but at the same time touch can make you feel sick.

You want to convey it to him, but looking at his happy face twists your stomach. So you endure some more, pushing all your negative feelings bubbling away in your gut.

He’ll leave once you’re done.

But again, today isn’t in your favor.

Leander insist on helping you dry and dress while running his mouth about his day.

You halfheartedly listen to him while popping your knuckles repeatedly to ease your discomfort, and Leander soon catches on to your fidgeting, mistaking it for something else…

He lets out a breathy chuckle, it sounding like gooey honey and his gaze low lided. His hand comes to grasp your shoulder, making you bunch up and turn to move your shoulder out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let go, his hold tightening up.

“Hey, what did I say? If you wanna touch me all you have to do is ask, or even just do so.”

“That’s not— Woah!”

He pulls you to sit down on the bed, sitting right beside you, his knee pressing against yours. He uses his teeth to pull off his gloves and you suddenly grasps his wrists tight, trembling slightly.

“Leander, please, it’s not that,” you grit slightly with tightly furrowed brows, before guilt comes swallowing you at the look of hurt and confusion on his face.

“I’m just exhausted from today and I just want to be alone!”

Leander’s face falls into a blank stare, on that you’re not familiar with. It’s… Empty and cold, unnatural for a sunny guy such as himself. It kicks starts your heart into a fast paced beat. You don’t like it. Not one bit.

But then he’s smiling again, looking amused as if you’re being difficult or perhaps you told him a joke. He tugs his wrists from your grip with ease and locks your hands into his firmly. “Hey, I know today was rough, but let me help you, alright?”

“You’re not—!”

Suddenly you’re falling into the bed, it squeaking in protest at the sudden weight. Leander’s arms are wrapped around you, caging you in his hold. You lay there with mute panic, feeling your throat knot up. Your head is dizzy with static and your skin crawling as if maggots infested your insides.

“Everyone needs a hug or cuddle once in a while, Sunshine. Don’t try to fight it,” he says, lips brushing your ear. “For you especially it’s not healthy. You went so long without proper affectionate touch, I understand it’s hard to ask it now, but I’ll help you. I’ll show you it’s okay.”

You begin to fight his touch, your breath frantic, and soon you free yourself, dropping to the floor with a loud thud and scrambling. You end up retching into the pitcher Leander had used for your hair earlier.

Tears drip from your face and snot from your nose as you try to catch your breath.

“My goodness, did you eat something bad? There, there, let it out,” Leander says with a poisonously soothing voice, rubbing your back gently.

[chaifootsteps]

The way Brandon acted definitely comes across as tired.

Like someone who enjoyed the character from the beginning and what the show was supposed to be, but then got forced to make it an extremely toxic, yaoi romance nonsense because viv thinks it’s cute

And he’s watching the character that he played, that he seemed to enjoy playing, get treated worse and worse by the narrative just so stolas can bitch and moan

I’d be pretty damn frustrated too if I got reduced to one note jerk ass, who is not allowed to have opinions/feelings unless they match up what an abuser wants

That is all kinds of yikes

Tired's an excellent description of it, thank you. Like, this is exactly how I would be acting if I'd been forced to watch a project I was starring in, a project I was really passionate about, turn into what Helluva Boss has turned into and I knew I couldn't be fired no matter what I said or did.

I would just show up half wasted to a panel, throw myself into a chair, and start talking about how the only thing that matters is Stolitz and this character who doesn't like it is a big cockblocking slut and who cares, what does it even matter anymore? Where's my check?

[ashwhowrites]

Ask her part 2

Here is part 2 of the angst blurb I posted a day ago!

I hope you guys like it and that was worth asking for

I also did not check for mistakes so let’s ignore those

Part 3

Master-list

Eddie selfishly thought being without her wouldn't be so hard. Hell, he hasn't been by her side for weeks, and nothing felt different for him. But knowing he made her cry and shattered her heart to pieces made it all hurt worse. He wished he was more observant and could see when all the problems began. When he subconsciously began to pull away from her. Fuck, even Wayne asked where she went. How did he miss all of the signs? Eddie liked to believe that he wasn't dumb like everyone thought. He liked to believe that he was creative in his campaigns, protective of his lost sheep, and even confident in certain situations. But now, he truly believed he was a dumbass at this point. How do you break your best friend's heart and have no idea?

He wished he could blame it all on her. She technically never told him anything and never shared her feelings for him. She never once told him when she was upset. And never once said anything about Chrissy. But maybe she had her reasons. He did blow up on her the second Chrissy's name was muttered. Maybe that's why she never said anything. She knew he'd protect her, that he'd pick her. And fuck, he realized now, he had been picking her.

He tried to call her, but she never answered. He glared at any of the boys who tried to sit in her Hellfire spot, even though she had stopped showing up. When Dustin asked why she never came around anymore, Eddie didn't even know how to answer. But Robin, who was walking past their cafeteria table, offered some words: "Because Eddie is a selfish jackass." Eddie turned to her fast, and his temper once again got the best of him. "What the fuck did you say?" Robin did not look threatened at all. "You heard me, Munson. Maybe it's time Dustin learned that his little idol broke Y/N's heart and hasn't bothered to pick up the pieces. " Dustin looked at Eddie with a look he was all too familiar with: disappointment. "Once again, I did not know she was upset with me until recently, and I have been trying to pick up the pieces, but she won't let me. " Eddie was fine with being a bad guy if he had a reason to be, but right now, he doesn't think he deserves to be everyone's punching bag. "Oh please with your little phone calls? Pick up the pieces of her heart with your goddamn hands. Make some real effort. Not a short phone call with the problem herself sitting right next to you like a leech. " Eddie felt anger rise up when, once again, Chrissy was getting thrown through the mud. "Look, Robin, Y/N is a big girl and if she wants to continue to play this game of ignoring me as some type of revenge, she can. I am tired of my girlfriend getting treated like she is a problem when she isn't. " "No one can blame Y/N for her little feelings except herself." Eddie's eyes grew at his own words, along with everyone who was watching. And a pair of eyes he wished he had never looked into hers. He saw the cold settle in her eyes like it was a newfound home. "I didn't mean that." He muttered out loud, "Wow Eddie, just go to hell." Y/N spoke with pure hate in her voice. And it fucking hurt. She was out the door before he could even follow. He got up but a hand was placed on his back, "Babe, what's going on?" Chrissy's soft voice cut through the tension. It eased Eddie's shoulders but caused Robin to tense. "Nothing," Eddie whispered as he sat back down. Robin glared at the action with a mocking laugh "Yikes yet again. He picks the cheerleader. " She rather spat at him and ran off after Y/N. She ran after her to make her feel better. It was something he knew he should be doing. The look in Dustin's eyes returned. With a sad shake of his curly hair, he rose from the table and followed. "Pick the cheerleader? What is all of that about?" Chrissy asked with a nervous giggle. Eddie eyed her uncomfortable posture. He figured it was from Robin's side comment. He pecked her cheek with a small smile. "Truly nothing." "So Y/N is just nothing?'' This time, Gareth perked up and left the table. The sound of Y/N's name being announced caused Chrissy to stiffen next to Eddie. He slightly noticed but was distracted, yet again, by a look of disappointment.

Eddie barely focused on any of his classes, not that he ever does anyway. He had too many questions and not enough answers. When did everyone start looking at him with such disapproval? Why did everyone all of a sudden see Chrissy as a bad guy? Then he remembered Y/N said it all started with his birthday. And he knew where to start.

Eddie raced out of the classroom the second the bell rang. He knew Y/N would have to stop at her locker to grab her books to bring them to her tutoring, so he ran straight there. He didn't stop in time and rammed straight into her. Books flew everywhere, and he grabbed her before she fell.

A shriek left her lips at the impact. A "thank you" was caught in her throat when she saw him. She yanked herself out of his arms and quickly bent to grab her books. Eddie, as usual, was much faster. He swiped every book up, but he didn't give them back. He secured them behind his back. "Eddie, give me my damn books." Her tone was not playful like it used to be when he did this exact same thing. "Come on, babes, you know that's not how this goes." He said with a playful glint in his eyes. She knew he wanted a reaction from her. She had been giving him the cold shoulder for days, but she couldn't find it in herself to feel guilty. He deserved a lot worse than this. Hell, Robin was ready to make a deal with the devil himself to get rid of Eddie once and for all. She crossed her arms and looked bored at him. He once again felt small under her gaze. "I want to start with I'm so fucking sorry for everything. And before you tell me to shove my apology up my ass, " A small laugh left her lips at that. She quickly cursed herself for doing so. His eyes lit up at the sound, but before he could savor it, her frown came back. "I want you. I'm going to ask her. I'll make her tell me everything that I've been missing. I want to know exactly where I fucked up so I know where to start to make it better. " Her heart fluttered at the tone in his voice. It was the tone he used when he'd beg her to listen to a new song he'd come up with. The same tone he used when he'd ask if she truly thought everyone would like his campaign idea. It was the same soft and gentle tone he used when she first learned about his family. Her heart hurt at the thought, yet anger replaced it when she began to think. Did he tell her about his new songs? Did he write about being in love with her? Did he tell her about his hellfire meetings every night? Does she know about his past? Did she know all the things about Eddie, like how she used to? Eddie saw hope, sadness, and anger drift through her eyes. He didn't know if he was making progress or was giving her extra shovels to dig him further into the hole he got himself into.

With a sigh, he gave her the books. A small smile curved his lips. But he walked away with a bounce in his step. She finally gave him the time of day. Next stop: Chrissy.

Eddie was pacing around his bedroom, hand deep in his roots, yanking at the anxiety filling his stomach. He was snapped out of his thoughts when his door opened. He gave a small smile when he met her eyes. She ran and threw herself into his arms. A kiss on his cheek, then his lips. He hummed at the familiar taste. "Hey baby, what did you have in mind for tonight?" Chrissy asked with curiosity in her eyes. He studied her face. Her soft eyes blushed cheeks and a small smile. How can everyone see a devil in her presence? She looks so soft, gentle, and loving. Everyone had to be wrong about her. They just didn't know Chrissy the way he did, right?

"I needed to ask you something." She gave him a nod of her head, a signal to ask away. "What happened between you and Y/N on my birthday?"

She went frozen, ice cold, and fear showed through her eyes. The silence was becoming too tense. Why hasn't she said anything yet? "Chrissy?" he asked again. She seemed to snap out of her trance. Her eyes flashed back to normal. "Nothing, baby, why would you ask?" she said, but her voice sounded fake like she had this exact sentence practiced. "Y/N told me she was in love with me," but Chrissy removed herself quickly from his arms. A look of pain flashed through her, almost like betrayal. "Excuse me, she told my boyfriend that she was in love with him? That is completely inappropriate. " She scoffed and crossed her arms around herself. "She said you already knew, the night of my birthday." Chrissy looked at her shoes, shaking her head "Why would I know? She and I don't even talk. She is making things up. I barely saw her on your birthday. I was too busy planning it, decorating it, and making things perfect for you, Eddie. " She rushed out. Her eyes still hadn't met his. "Why would she lie?" He asked "Maybe you should ask her," Chrissy explained. Eddie scoffed at the same sequence of words. "NO! I AM TIRED OF NOT GETTING ANSWERS, SHE TOLD ME TO ASK YOU SO I AM. I am not going to ask both of you and get nowhere. Tell me right now what happened that night. " Hearing a sniffle, he immediately felt bad for raising his voice. He was learning to keep his temper at bay, but God, why is talking to girls so hard? They just fucking need to say what they want to say. Before he saw it, Chrissy fell to the floor, sobbing in her hands. She was rambling, but it was difficult to hear her as she sobbed. He quickly wrapped her in his arms. He pulled her hands away. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I'm so sorry. " He began to rush out. What is it with him making all the girls in his life cry? She shook her head and finally met his eyes. Red, wet, and puffy. His heart sank at her sad expression. "Eddie, I'm so sorry," she spoke softly as she placed her hands on his cheeks. His puppy eyes were huge, trying to understand what had been going on. "Just please tell me." He was pleased softly, placing his hand on hers.

"I knew," she whispered, "She told me she was in love with you while we made your cake." Eddie's body went stiff. He held his breath as she continued, "She said she had it all planned. Her gift for your birthday was going to be her confession, and she wanted my help to make sure you guys were alone after you blew out your candles." His hands burned from touching hers. He harshly grabbed her hands and threw them off of him. "Why did she never get to tell me, Chrissy?" But he knew she never got the time alone with him because he was in his room with Chrissy. Chrissy sobbed as she reached for him "You don't understand, Eddie; I really liked you, and I couldn't help her confess to you before you knew how I felt about you." His eyes began to burn, his thoughts were flying everywhere, and he couldn't get a grip on reality. " "MY GOD CHRISSY, you fucking knew she was in love with me and you just needed to beat her to the punch? Is that what happened? "Sink your claws into me to fucking claim your dominance?" He yelled. And he did not care about losing his temper now. He felt so stupid.

He remembered that night. He ran to his room to grab his sweetheart. He knew she needed to be part of his celebration. Like, come on. He grabbed her neck and turned around, and there she was. Chrissy smiled sheepishly. "Before we go back out there, I really need to tell you something." She sounded so innocent and shy. He gave her a big smile to encourage her. Her next words were not where he thought the conversation was going to go. "I have to confess something," she giggled "I have this massive crush on you. I know we are friends, but spending time with you has become the best part of my day. And being here with everyone, celebrating your birthday, I can't help but feel so close to you. " He went into shock. A cheerleader, better yet, the head cheerleader, was confessing she had a crush on him. in his dirty bedroom, in his trailer home, and on his birthday. He felt like he had won the lottery. He had no words, just gaping like a fish out of water. He tried to clear his throat to say something, anything. She smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him out to the kitchen where everyone was waiting. He now understood the look in Y/N's eyes when she saw them holding hands. She was broken. But she put on a smile, one he now came to understand was fake. Before he knew it, Chrissy announced, "I have confessed to Eddie that I have a crush on him." He remembered how the room went silent. Everyone stared. He felt shy under everyone's stares, but before he knew it, a pair of lips crashed onto his. His eyes widened as he saw Chrissy on her tiptoes, arms around his neck, and lips on his. He fell into the moment, eyes closed, and he kissed her back. Some cheers were heard. He shyly pulled away, a blush coming across his cheeks. "Blow out your candles, Eds," Chrissy said with a smile, and so he did. He blew out his candles with his eyes closed. His eyes snapped open when he heard his front door slam. He looked around the room to see who had left. His heart fell when he saw Y/N was no longer there. Chrissy began cutting the cake, snapping him out of his daze. He smiled as he grabbed a plate.

"You kissed me," he mumbled. Chrissy looked at him. "You kissed me right in front of her." He was calm, but Chrissy could tell this was a new type of anger. He was nowhere near calm. But he was so pissed that he couldn't even yell. "How do you do that to someone? How can you stab her in the back like that? Do you even feel bad? Can you even care about someone other than yourself?" His words were cutting her deep. She tried to keep her tears at bay, but they kept falling. "Get the fuck out, and don't you ever come near me again. And don't you ever talk to her, look at her, or even say her name. " She began begging, "No Eds, please. We can talk about this," She was pleading now. "Get the fuck out! Get out! Get out! " She scrammed out the door, crying as she went.

He slammed his door, and before he knew it, he was punching everything in sight. throwing everything off his desk. He felt so fucking heartbroken. Y/N didn't deserve to deal with any pain. She was so sweet, and nice, and took care of everyone. And he treated her like gum on his damn shoe. He tossed her to the side when a tiny skirt came along. "Eddie, what the hell?" Wayne ran in, and he grabbed Eddie to stop ruining anything else "I fucked up Wayne. I broke her fucking heart. " In Wayne's arms, he allowed himself to cry. He sobbed and let everything flow out. "It's okay, Eds. I'm sure you and Chrissy can work it out. " Eddie cringed at the name. He didn't even care if he hurt Chrissy. She broke his best friend's heart, and he helped. "Not her Wayne, Y/N," he sobbed. Wayne rubbed his arms to calm him down. "We'll get her back, Eds." We will. Eddie let himself believe it because he needed to feel something other than this pain in his chest.

tags~~~



@herroyalhighnessqueenmomo  @sage-the-z0mbie @maystecc

[stusbunker]

Spotless: En Cédant

Chapter Twenty Two

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Lee, Bobby, Sam, Annie, Kevin (mentioned)

Word Count: 2541

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, Aromantic Bela, more hints at bisexual Dean, unbeta'd

A/N: Dean's magazine interview is released and he asks a question he regrets.

Series Masterlist

Dean walked into the auditorium they’d been leasing for rehearsals with a gas station coffee and what John would have called a ‘piss-poor’ attitude. Sam had stayed over at Madison’s and gotten his own way to their last pre-tour play through. It was one of those rare mornings where their place felt too big, and Dean couldn’t kick the feeling that something was missing in his daily life. But it was too early for a pity party and too late to turn around and play hookey.

Not that he’d even dare that on this tour, not this close to showtime.

The energy in the hall did little to ease Dean’s annoyance, filled with quiet conspiring. Each person he nodded at seemed to be hiding a smirk or trying not to laugh out loud. Once he got to Lee, he’d had enough.

“Okay, what the fuck is with everybody today?”

Lee shook his head. “You don’t know, you poor bastard. Have you seen Trouble yet?”

“No— whyyyy?” Dean scanned the room littered with roadies and band members, lounging over the stage and the first rows of seats. 

“Look, man, it’s easier to show you than tell you.” Lee reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rolled up magazine, which was not what he was expecting. His sources of embarrassment primarily spread online these days.

But then he looked down and saw his own smug face staring back at him.

“Holy shit,” Dean said in a whisper.

“She’s got like a whole box of these, everybody’s read it or is currently reading it. It’s almost like you’re famous or inspirational or some shit.”

“Some shit is more like it,” Dean muttered and flipped to the page number next to the tagline, ‘Phantom Traveler’s frontman Rides the Road to Redemption’.

“Hey! Get your own!” Lee snatched the magazine out of his hand before he could get past the shot of him in Baby’s driver’s seat, eyebrows furrowed in the side view mirror.

“You sonuvabitch,” Dean threatened and went to steal it back when Bobby appeared with his ruffled mustache of disapproval.

“Okay, Fabio, go find Trouble, she’s got a whole case of those you’re supposed to sign before we get started.”

Dean wiped his face with his palm and braced himself for a long ass day. “Okay, any idea where she is?”

“First dressing room,” Bobby replied. “Don’t take too long, we want to run through some old stuff with Kevin so Charlie can plan out some lightwork with it, then we need to talk setlists for this weekend.”

“Yeah, of course, uh, I’ll be right back,” Dean said, turning to head to the pit. He turned and added over his shoulder. “At least I hope so.”

It was worse than Dean thought, but somehow also better than he’d expected from Meg.

Sam sat backwards on an old makeup stool as he read the article out loud, “‘even his timeless good looks couldn’t save him from the storm of controversy he unleashed after punching out photographer, Jared Bender, alienating his keyboardist and lifelong friend, Cas Novak to the point of leaving the band, and forcing his manager and mentor, Bobby Singer, to cancel their last North American tour with two months left.’”

Sam made a visible ‘yikes’ face and continued on as you listened, moving stacks of magazines around into manageable piles along the counter. 

“‘The man sitting across from me was neither the cocky dipshit I interviewed six years ago, nor was he the unstable egomaniac who caused those around him to walk on eggshells during their last tour. He was oddly zen, blunt as ever, and refreshingly humble.’---- Ha! Christ, did you pay her off?!” 

Dean decided he’d heard enough and cleared his throat. You froze and turned, but Sam just grinned wolfishly at him through the old spotted mirror, completely unsorry about being caught.

“There you are! Hot off the presses, man.” Sam flipped the copy he was reading towards Dean, which he caught against his chest with his free hand.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean grunted, splashing some of his coffee as he stopped the magazine from falling to the floor. “How bad is it?”

You chuckled. “It’s not— well, for starters, it’s the freakin’ cover! I was not— she was being purposely vague about the whole thing, even which issue it was going to be— I am kind of in shock still.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean stared at the cover, unsure if he dared read it with an audience. After the silence got too heavy, he buried his own sick curiosity and looked at you to keep busy. “So, Bobby said you’ve got work for me?”

Dean smiled too late, catching you entirely deflate from his terrible segue.

“Uh— yeah, it’s only 100 copies. We’re sending them out to bundle with tickets for radio stations in every city.”

Dean walked across the small room, set down his coffee beside Sam’s rumpled magazine, and picked up one of the metallic Sharpies you had left out. “You sure they want just me signing these?”

“Dude— none of us are in any of the pictures. And besides just verifying some details, she didn’t interview any of us.”

Dean spun on his heel. “She asked you if I was lying about stuff?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that— it was more of her trying to catch you in consistencies.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at how that was exactly what he had said.

Sam huffed and started rambling. “I mean it was about the tone of the album and the cohesiveness. It wasn’t bad, God, okay?!”

“You’re not really reassuring me here, Sammy.”

“Look, I’m gonna go set up.” Sam stood up. “But, we’ll talk it out once you’ve read it, okay? Just get these signed, so we can figure out everything upstairs. Maybe then Bobby doesn’t have an aneurysm.”

“We can only hope,” you tucked on, which took the words out of Dean’s mouth.

Dean nodded, sighed, and popped off the cap of the marker. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Sitting around haphazardly sprawled across the theater seats, the band and immediate support personnel plotted the first stretch of the tour. Dates were set, venues, everything important, but the minutia had to be finalized so everyone knew where to be and when.

“We’re doing in studio stops with stations here and Vegas. But we are doing phone in interviews with San Diego, Phoenix and Albuquerque. We’ll talk more, but I think we’ve got stuff lined up once we hit Texas,” you rattled off to the group, pen in hand, laptop on your lap and phone in hand.

Bobby had his day planner open on his lap and Annie added things into her phone as you went. Dean kept his calendar app open, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet. Once the tour got underway, things got easier with the practiced dance, but until then he was jittery and brooding.

He hated the build up, but knew it’d be over soon.

“Dean— we gotta talk later, figure out when Bela will need passes. That goes for everyone, please let me know who you’re bringing each night so I can submit the names to each venue.”

“How is that your job on top of everything else?” Bobby asked.

“You want to do it?” You countered, coyly.

Everyone laughed. Lee threw a balled up receipt at the back of Dean’s head, but he just flipped him off.

“Need to get you an assistant,” Bobby muttered, but Dean didn’t think it was a bad idea. 

The meeting continued, plans for press stops and casual drop ins for the first leg were cemented with your approval. The band’s image meant everything to you, not just because it was your job, Dean knew it was a deep seated loyalty and faith in them, both as individuals and as a unit, a family. You worked harder for them than any mere publicist would. 

And that genuineness came through to the fans. 

Then that respect and admiration was reciprocated. Sure, there were ones who were closer to obsessed than others, but even Becky, the fanclub president, had cooled down over the years. Things might get awkward amongst the masses, but it wasn’t dangerous. And it had been awhile since anybody had asked for a lock of his hair during an autograph session. 

He didn’t miss that.

Dean switched apps and snapped some quick shots of the group from where he sat, dazed and tired from the meeting, but still together and looking good. He typed a quick caption to the post: ‘Can’t wait to see y’all again soon, we’re back baby.’ He even remembered to tag the band’s account before posting. But he knew you’d go through and add hashtags and pin people’s accounts to their faces in each shot, eventually.

For now, he was just grateful that he was still doing what he loved with his people.

Not much later, Bobby called it and everybody agreed to meet at Elizabeth’s. After securing all the equipment and hugging Charlie goodbye, Dean helped you haul the boxes of magazines to Bobby’s truck to be mailed out later.

“You want to ride with us? Got that scheduling stuff to hammer out anyway,” Dean cleared his throat and nodded towards Baby on the far edge of the parking ramp.

“Uh, Sam left with Kevin, but yeah,” you said, looking over to Bobby and Annie. “See you guys there?”

“Sounds good,” Annie said.

“Drive safe,” Bobby warned and held the door open for his wife.

Dean felt weird with his empty hands and you bent over with your bag and your laptop case, but you seemed to manage. “How are you feeling about things? How long we got before shit explodes with that article?”

You hummed in estimation, “about nine hours? East Coast will get to it first so it’s gonna be another early day.” 

“Brutal.”

“It will keep me busy, but it will be a good busy. I’m sure of it,” you promised.

Dean huffed. “If you say so.”

He unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for you, the familiar creak in the hinge the only sound in the cement tomb of the parking garage. But it didn’t feel creepy, it felt nice to be alone and out at night. With you.

He let you drag your stuff into the footwell and made sure not to get your sweater caught in the door as he closed it. He rounded the front bumper and got into his spot. “Alrighty, let’s go get stuck in traffic for an hour.”

You smiled at him, without looking up from swiping through your phone.

“You posted?!” you shrieked in surprise not five minutes later.

“With my own two thumbs and everything,” Dean teased back.

“They are loving this.--- Dean, it’s already got like over a thousand comments.”

Hey, he could do the internet charm, when he wanted to.

“What are they sayin’? They pumped to see us live?” 

“Definitely! And then the usual: speculation on Lee and Pam, people begging you to father their children—” you laugh fondly, like at a child showing off a well known skill. “Kevin is starting to get a sort of following, and the younger crowd brings more enthusiasm. Plus, people are already speculating how long during each set before Sam loses his shirt.”

Dean cackled. “Sweaty bastard, even with all the box fans.”

He pulled them onto the freeway and wedged in where he could amongst the chaos, careful to leave breathing room for his girl.

“When you’re all done with that, we can talk Bela at the shows. I’m guessing you meant you want her backstage and easily seen from the audience and all that?”

“Pretty much, but also what works around what she’s doing. She can’t exactly tour with you guys, but we gotta make it look like she’s doing her damndest to.”

You spent a few minutes going through your notifications while Dean turned up the radio a bit to keep him occupied through the stop and go traffic. Must be a game somewhere, he thought passingly.

“So, uh—- how much longer do you think we gotta do this act? Seems like I’m looking pretty good these days in the eyes of the public. And if you’re sure Meg’s article will be good press—”

You put down your phone and turned on the bench seat to lean your arm along the back of it, putting Dean entirely in your focus. He swallowed and looked back at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Where’s this coming from? I thought it was working out good with Bela?” You were trying for neutral, he could feel it. But you were upset. Or alarmed at least.

“It is— just not really sustainable for the long run. Eventually she’s gonna find somebody she actually wants to date and I’m gonna be gone for like the next year.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Bela’s aromantic, Dean. She isn’t interested in relationships at all.”

“Wait— what? That’s a thing? Chicks do that?”

You glared at him. Shit.

He licked his lips and wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans. “Okay, but people probably know that, right?”

“Yeah, but people have a way of thinking that eventually she’s gonna meet the right person and ‘settle down’.”

Dean groaned. “Are we playing up a shitty stereotype? Am I being a bad ally?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dean, shut up. You didn’t know, which I find odd, but I’ll talk to Bela about that.---- And we’re not getting graded on your allyship, because frankly that is an entirely different conversation.”

Dean closed his eyes against the accusation but got back into driver mode quick enough to remain safe. He sighed.

“Anyway, I was just curious if there is a timeline or an escape clause or something when the label won’t cut off my nuts for being officially single again.”

You turned back to face the dashboard and picked your phone back up. “I cannot believe you can’t keep it in your pants for one tour, Dean. Groupies and fucking syphilis boosters cannot be that fun.”

Dean swerved, but righted the car. 

“HEY! Nobody said anything about wanting to get my dick wet! I was just asking a question. You don’t gotta be shitty about it.”

Dean swallowed back his retort about not needing easy hook ups because Bela was more than on board for helping fill that particular outlet, but he had already dug himself into a hole tonight.

He inhaled and worked on calming himself down. He realized he was more hurt than anything, that that’s where your mind went for his reasoning. 

That was how you saw him.

He wasn’t a dog, not anymore at least. And if he had been for the few years after Jo’s death, it was something he had to get himself through. He should not feel ashamed for enjoying life. 

But apparently somewhere along the line you’d grown a superiority complex.

Your opinion shouldn’t matter. He only had to answer to himself at the end of the day. But shouldn’t didn’t equal doesn’t.

Which made him feel even more pathetic.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

Chapter 23: Furia

[pineapple-cheese-bread]

if you feel like you might want to read the How to Train Your Dragon books here's a list of my favorite chapter titles from all 12 books.

Book 1:

Chapter 13 when yelling doesn't work

Chapter 14 the fiendishly-clever plan

Chapter 16 the fiendishly-clever plan goes wrong

Book 2:

Chapter 4 Whose coffin is this anyway?

Chapter 10 the worst day of hiccups life so far

Chapter 14 the day takes a turn for the worse

Chapter 17 how bad can this day get?

Book 3:

Chapter 16 The cunning but desperate plan

Chapter 19 Aaaaaaaagh

Chapter 20 Hiccup the god

Book 4:

Chapter 7 the quest for the frozen potato

Chapter 11 in the soup

Chapter 13 the great potato burglary

Chapter 14 the potato burglars run

Chapter 15 they might just make it now

Book 5:

Chapter 9 how do you take advice from someone who has taken a vow of silence?

Chapter 11 the quest to stop the volcano from exploding

Chapter 14 is it always nice to bump into an old acquaintance?

Chapter 18 can you out run an exploding volcano?

Book 6:

Chapter 1 an odd way to spend your birthday

Chapter 2 spinach with your driftwood?

Chapter 10 BIG BIG TROUBLE

Chapter 13 yikes

Book 7:

Chapter 2 may the fattest (and least stupid) man (or woman) win

Chapter 3 isn't that Snotlout a lovely guy?

Chapter 12 R-R-R-RUUUUUUUNNNNNN!!!!!

Chapter 19 keep kicking, it's a long swim home

Chapter 20 the ticking thing starts to tick louder

Book 8:

Chapter 3 definitely not the perfect camping spot

Chapter 7 I'm getting married in the morning

Chapter 10 does anybody recognise this lobster pot?

Chapter 19 an unexpected development

Chapter 20 this really had been a very bad night

Book 9:

Chapter 8 oh for thors sake

Chapter 13 get your skates on!!!

Chapter 15 things go surprisingly well in the sword fighting compatition

Chapter 16 things start to go wrong

Chapter 17 still going wrong

Book 10:

Chapter 2 a few communication problems

Chapter 4 hiccups less brilliant plan

Chapter 11 a genuine surprise

Chapter 17 did I already mention that the pass has away of catching up with the present

Chapter 20 oh dear

Chapter 25 I don't think I'm dead

Chapter 28 facing the music... And Alvin and the witch

Chapter 29 un unexpected development

Book 11:

Chapter 3 plan going wrong

Chapter 8 you wouldn't find Alvin's secret camp even if you searched for a hundred years

Chapter 9 inside Alvin's war bunker

Chapter 15 you rang madam?

Chapter 18 a very short chapter in which it looks like everything is about to go right for for five minutes

Chapter 19 everything goes wrong again, very rapidly

Book 12:

Chapter 1 however bad things seem to be they can always get worse

Chapter 2 you see, it just got worse again less than five minutes into the story

Chapter 3 the minor problem

Chapter 4 the larger problem

Chapter 8 I bet you thought that this was never going to happen

Chapter 13 a very short chapter that begins well and ends badly

Chapter 15 preparing for the funeral - sorry single combat

Chapter 18 the past never leaves us

Chapter 19 and it haunts the present in more ways than we think

Chapter 20 it certainly scares the living daylights out of me

Chapter 22 that's why the call him Alvin the treacherous (the clue is in the name really)

Chapter 24 did I mention that the past has a way of catching up with us eventually

[angelsanarchy]

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 03

"I'm not a serial killer he says.." "To be fair, I said I wasn't a stalker."

FRIDAY, 11:00PM (TW: Drug-use)

The place looked a little worse for wear but still very livable. A lot of decently priced places in the area were about the same. People hung outside, in the hallways and just sort of congregated from apartment to apartment like a college dorm.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Clyde left the door wide open for whoever to come and go. Y/n took in the general state of the apartment and chuckled catching his attention.

"Hey...no judgements. I'm a man. Men live like this." Clyde defended.

"Yeah? I didn't realize men didn't own a trashcan...or a laundry basket." Y/n held up some random boxers resting on the coffee table. Clyde had spun around with a shotgun pointed at her making her freeze.

"You were saying?" Clyde teased.

"I'm not a serial killer he says...and yet here he is holding me at gunpoint." Y/n carefully placed his underwear on the barrel of the gun.

"To be fair, I said I wasn't a stalker." Clyde corrected flicking the underwear off the gun.

"Damn...well you got me there." Y/n put her hands up sheepishly and Clyde smirked.

"Does that make you scared?" Clyde might be a lot of things but scary wasn't one of them.

"Is that what you're trying to do? Scare me?" Y/n stepped towards the end of the rifle and Clyde's eyebrow went up.

"Not particularly." Clyde shifted. Y/n took the end of the shotgun into her hand and appeared to be inspecting it.

"Good because I don't scare easy." Y/n turned back towards the couch and plopped down, taking her jacket off and tossing her bag on the floor. Clyde lowered the gun and laughed.

"Oh yeah? What does scare you then?" Clyde plopped down in a chair facing her.

"You first." Y/n challenged.

"Easy. Goats." Clyde's quick answer with his very serious face made y/n snort out a laugh.

"Goats? Why the hell are you afraid of goats?" She tried to say without crying laughing.

"They're aggressive little fuckers who like to head butt, scale fucking mountains and scream in your face. They're like kids on crack. They're the fucking worst." Clyde explained pulling his phone out and showing y/n a clip of a goat climbing on the side of a mountain awkwardly.

"That...that is pretty startling to say the least. Goats...cannot be trusted." Y/n shook her head trying to rationalize Clyde's fear but in all her years in Nevada, she's never even seen a goat.

"Your turn. What scares you? Clearly not guns." Clyde pointed out.

"This is Vegas. If you haven't been held at gunpoint, can you even call yourself a resident?" Y/n shrugged.

"That's actually super true. I've been shot at way too many times to count." Clyde admitted.

"That's...not shocking at all." Johnny cleared his throat and they looked up.

"Let me snag the keys, I'm going to get some food. The guys and I are starving." Clyde dug in his pocket for the keys and tossed them up to Johnny.

"Do you eat meat?" Clyde asked earning a nod.

"Grab us food too. I'll take it off your gas cash." Before Johnny could argue for money, Clyde was quick to make a food for gas trade. The others filled out after Johnny and shut the door leaving the two sitting in the middle of the room.

They sat in silence for a minute adjusting to being alone together.

"So do you live here alone or does everyone just kind of crash around?" Y/n took in her surroundings. There was only one bed, if you can call it that, that sat on the floor with a bunch of blankets, a big bean bag chair in the corner, the raggedy couch and an armchair that's seen better days. It was a lot more furniture than she would have expected for one person.

"Nah I kind of consider it a bit of a halfway house. Everyone's going somewhere but we all need to crash for a bit. The guys have a room at the end of the hallway and then one across the hall for any girls they bring home for-" Clyde made a hand gesture and y/n laughed.

"You guys have a fucking apartment? Yikes, the smells alone from that room would give me chills." Clyde shook his head.

"I honestly wouldn't know. I don't really frequent that room. It stays pretty occupied anyway." He laughed. Y/n took in a mental note that Clyde didn't seem like someone who brought a lot of girls back to his place for fucking but almost like he was providing sanctuary.

"Oh I have no doubts. Plus you look like a wine and dine kind of guy. Big activities, good music, decent food. A real gentlemen." Y/n turned her body towards him.

"Absolutely. I'm a real Casanova and you're in for a treat." Clyde walked over to his nightstand and rummaged around inside of it pulling out a tray and a lighter, shimming over to plop down next to y/n on the couch.

"The only activity of the evening is to get decently high...if you're cool with that." Clyde hadn't bothered asking but took in her face to make sure he hadn't offended.

"I mean it sounds more like a 3rd date but since you've been stalking me for a minute, I think this will work just fine." Clyde rolled his eyes at her, bringing the blunt to his lips to moisten. The two sat with their knees touching, Clyde rolling at least three blunts knowing that the moment the guys got back, they would want dibs and like clockwork the door swung open and a bag was tossed at y/n.

Clyde merely held up the two blunts and Johnny snatched them with a cheeky grin before bounding back out of the door. The fries in the bag were soggy and the burgers looked like they had been thrown against a wall but y/n wasn't picky. She held out a french fry to Clyde's mouth as held the blunt between his fingers unable to put it down yet.

Something familiar and comfortable settled between them like they had done this for years.

"Jesus what the fuck happened to that?" Clyde gestured to the burger y/n was trying to pick up.

"I'm going to assume it was run over but I'm honestly starving so I'm going to eat it anyway." Y/n didn't hesitate taking a bite and Clyde lit the blunt between his lips. He watched y/n look for a place she could find a napkin and he ran to the bathroom, retrieving a roll of toilet paper and putting it down on the table. She tried not to laugh as she unrolled some to wipe her hands.

Clyde passed the blunt to y/n who took a small hit making sure she didn't choke and embarrass herself, knowing she would deserve all the teasing from Clyde because of his cigarette disaster earlier.

"This is decent weed." Y/n commented.

"Are you surprised?" Clyde asked.

"Kind of. Do you work or do you come from money?" Y/n's question was genuine but Clyde seemed offended.

"What does that matter?" He scoffed.

"That wasn't meant as an insult. I'm just trying to figure out if you're crushing it as a hype man or if you're secretly the son of one of the current Strip residencies." Clyde seemed to simmer.

"I can assure you I am not the son of Vince Neil." She handed him the blunt back and pushed the hair from his face.

"No shit. You would not be this cute if your dad was Vince Neil." Y/n's compliment brought Clyde's mood right back up.

"Aw all I had to do was feed you and get you high and now you're back to trying to have my babies again." Clyde teased nudging her.

"I'm a simple girl. I like simple things." She gave a cheeky grin as his laugh turned into a cough.

"Oh so you like me because I'm simple? Should I be hurt by that or-"

"I'd hardly call you simple. You barrel rolled out of a club, tried to fight a bouncer that was three times your size and brought home a girl you've had a psychic connection with just to point a shotgun at her. Khakis are simple. Grilled cheese is simple." Y/n's explanation of her thoughts on Clyde thus far made a warmth grow in his stomach.

"Man you're really going to hold the whole shotgun thing against me huh? Would it help if I said it wasn't loaded?" Clyde offered.

"That would be so pointless. You literally keep your door open and unlocked with decent weed and at least a few hundred dollars worth of stuff. If it's not loaded, I'd say you're stupid." Clyde passed the blunt back nodding.

"You make a valid point." Y/n turned her body towards Clyde, holding the blunt in her hands but not bringing it to her lips.

"I could probably get over the whole shotgun thing if you let me give it right back." Clyde looked confused. He wasn't sure what she meant or if she was too high to make sense.

"I'm not up for being tasered while being high. I think that would definitely kill the high." Clyde whined weakly

"Open your lips." Y/n instructed. Clyde watched her put the blunt between her lips backwards and lean towards his face, putting her hands on his cheeks. Clyde almost forgot to breathe before she started exhaling the thick smoke between his lips, letting her bottom lip graze his. She was shotgunning the smoke so well, Clyde had to stop himself from super sucking the blunt into his mouth.

When she pulled away to pull the blunt out of her mouth, he laid back into the couch feeling the warmth that was in his stomach turn into a burn that was quickly spreading through his veins.

Y/n knew exactly what she was doing to Clyde and she had no regrets. This was the most relaxed fun she's had in a long time. Something about spending time with him made her feel free.

[kipscorner]

Monsters! Feel free to change pronouns, relationship mentions and anything else to match your writing preferences! Part of the list has been put under Read More due to it being a long list!

“Uh... my friends call me Phlegm.”

“Mr.(Mrs/Miss/etc) [Name], can you tell me what you did wrong?” “There is nothing more toxic or deadly than a human child. A single touch could kill you!”

“You can't make me!”

“Yes, it's dangerous work and that's why I need you to be at your best.”

“it's going to be a perfect day to maybe, hey, just lie in bed, sleep in or simply... work out that flab that's hanging over the bed!”

“I don't believe I ordered a wake-up call, [Name].”

“Did you see me? I'm a natural!”

“Hey, wasn't I great? Did the whole family see it?”

“You've been jealous of my good looks since the fourth grade, pal.”

“Big deal. Guy takes five steps and he's there.”

“I told you, call me [Name].”

“We just wanted to wish you good luck today.”

“Quiet! You'II make him lose his focus.”

“Oh, Googley-woogley, you remembered!”

“So, uh... are we going anywhere special tonight?”

“But it's impossible to get a reservation there!”

(singing) “You and me! Me and you! Both of us together!”

“You know, pal, she's the one. That's it. She is the one!”

“Oh, and, uh, thanks for hooking me up with those reservations.”

“Oh, no problem. They're under the name Googley Bear.”

“I wasn't scared. I have... allergies.”

“Do you hear that?It's the winds of change.”

( mocking voice ): ''You hear it? You hear the winds of ch...? –Oh, what a creep. One of these days, I am really... going to let you teach that guy a lesson.”

“[Name], you didn't file your paperwork last night.”

“I'm watching you, [Name]. Always watching.”

“You're the boss! You're the boss! You're the big, hairy boss!”

“She wasn't scared of you?”

“I could've been dead! I could've died!”

“I will personally put you through the shredder!”

“I love working with that big guy.”

“[Name] and I are like brothers.(sisters//siblings/etc)”

“We're just going through a rough time, sir.(ma’am/name/etc) Everyone knows you're going to get us through it.”

“Now, that's my boy(girl,etc)!”

“I've never seen anything like you today. You were on a roll, my man.(girl/etc)”

“So get this-- as if dinner wasn't enough I'm taking her(her/them/etc) to a monster truck rally afterwards.”

“You know, I am so romantic sometimes I think I should just marry myself.”

“'Cause I got to tell you, buddy that face of hers, it just makes my heart go...Yikes!”

“Your stunned silence is very reassuring.”

“Kitty!”

“No, no-- stay back!”

“Oh, [Name], I've had a lot of birthday... well, not a lot of birthdays but this is the best birthday ever.”

“I was just thinking about the first time I laid eye(eyes) on you-- how pretty you looked.”

“What a coincidence, running into you here! Uh, I'm just going to order something to go.”

“Get out of here. You're ruining everything.”

“Please remain calm. This is not a drill.”

“Well, I don't think that date could have gone any worse.”

“Well, a kid flew right over me and blasted a car with its laser vision!”

“I tried to run from it, but it picked me up with its mind powers and shook me like a doll!”

“It is my professional opinion that now is the time to... panic!”

“No, don't touch those, you little...! Oh, now those were alphabetized.”

“It's okay, it's all right. As long as it doesn't come near us we're going to be okay.”

“I have no idea but it would be really great if it didn't do it again.”

“How could I do this? How could I be so stupid?”

“That thing is a killing machine!”

“I bet it's just waiting for us to fall asleep and then wham! Oh, we're easy prey, my friend-- easy prey. We're sitting targets.”

“Using mainly spoons, we dig a tunnel under the city and release it into the wild.”

“That's it, I'm out of ideas. We're closed. Hot air balloon? Too expensive. Giant slingshot? Too conspicuous. Enormous wooden horse? Too Greek!”

“Are you sleepy? You want to sleep? ls that what you want? Huh?” 

“No. Hey, hey, that's my bed! You're going to get your germs all over it. ( sighing ) Fine. My chair is more comfortable anyway.”

“Will you go to sleep?”

“Oh, boy, how do I explain this?”

“How about I sit here, until you fall asleep? Go ahead. Go to sleep. Now. Now... go. Uh, you... go... to... sleep. ( imitating snoring )”

“Really? Well, in that case, let's keep it. I always wanted a pet that could kill me!”

“Is that a joke? Tell me you're joking.”

“[Name], I'd like to think that, given the circumstances I have been extremely forgiving up to now but that is a horrible idea!”

“Don't panic-- we can do this.”

“Actually, that's my, uh, cousin's sister's daughter…”

“That is the weirdest thing you have ever said.”

“That's a cute little dance you've got. It almost looks like you've got to…”

“Where did she go? Oh, did she disappear? Did she turn invisible?”

“[Name], my tender, oozing blossom you're looking fabulous today.Is that a new haircut? Come on, tell me. It's a new haircut, isn't it? That's got to be a new haircut. New makeup? You've had a lift. You've had a tuck. You've had something. Something has been inserted in your skin that makes you look like...”

“Ready or not, here I come! I'm getting warmer! Any second now! Fee fi fo…”

“Don't you think I'm aware of the situation? I was up all night!”

“Yeah, well, until we know for sure we're going to act like nothing happened, understand?”

“You're right, you're right. We're just two regular joes on our way to work. We will blend right in!”

“Very good. Now bon voyage!”

“That's what I decided to call her(him/them). Is there a problem?”

“[Name], you're not supposed to name it. Once you name it, you start getting attached to it!”

“ow put that thing back where it came from, or so help me…!”

“But if it was an inside job I'd put my money on [Third party].”

“( whimpers ) last night was one of the worst nights of my entire life, bar none!”

“Sushi? Sushi?!! You think this is about sushi?!”

“So I said, ''If you talk to me like that again, we're through!''

“Oh, well, hello, there. What's your name?”

“I got us a way out of this mess but we got to hurry.”

“Oh, you're all right! I was so worried! Don't you ever run away from me again, young lady(mnan/etc)! Oh, but I'm so glad you're safe.”

“We're going to get our lives back. The nightmare is over.”

“Okay, first of all, it's cree-tin. If you're going to threaten me do it properly.”

“Well somebody's certainly been a busy bee.”

“I'm sorry, [Name], but [Third party] said I'm not allowed to fraternize with victims of his(her/etc) evil plot.”

“We got to get out of here now! We can start a whole new life somewhere far away!”

“I was going for a snake ninja approach with a little hissing.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? It's all about presence!”

“[Name]? [Name], it's me…”

“[Name]? No, no, no, no. It's okay. I was just…No, no, no, no, no, don't be scared. That wasn't real. It's just a...I was just…”

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“All you had to do was listen to me-- just once! But you didn't, did you? You're still not listening!”

“Welcome to the Himalayas!”

“Snow cone? No, no, no. Don't worry-- it's lemon.”

“Did you see the way she(he/etc)... looked at me?”

“Take my buddy, Bigfoot. When he was banished he fashioned an enormous diaper out of poison ivy. Wore it on his head like a tiara. Called himself King Itchy.”

“Look at that big jerk. Ruined my life, and for what?”

“Wasteland? I think you mean wonderland! I mean, how about all this fabulous snow, huh?”

“Okay, rule number one out here. Always…No.Never go out in a blizzard.”

“None of it matter...Wa-wait a second. None of it matters?”

“So, now the truth comes out, doesn't it?”

“What about everything we ever worked for? Does that matter? Huh?”

“What about me? I'm your pal. I'm... I'm your best friend. Don't I matter?”

“I'm sorry, [Name]. I'm sorry we're stuck out here. I didn't mean for this to happen. But [Third Party]’s in trouble.”

“'Whoa, whoa, whoa. ''We''? No. There's no ''we'' this time, pal. I-if-if you want to go out there and freeze to death you be my guest... because you're on your own.”

“I never should have trusted you with this.”

“Let's get you home.”

“You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, [Name].”

“I was just mad, that's all. I needed some time to think.” “I'm being attacked!”

“No, I'm not attacking you. I'm trying to be honest. Just hear me out. You and I are a team. Nothing is more important than our friendship.”

“If you start crying, I'm going to cry and I'II never get through this. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you but I am now.”

“[Name], I am baring my soul here. The least you could do is pay attention!”

“Somebody's got take care of you, you big hairball!”

“[Name], if you don't tell me what's going on right now, we are through! You hear me? Through!”

“You expect me to believe that pack of lies, [Full name]!”

“Go get 'em, Googley Bear!”

“What a plan-- simple, yet insane!”

“How are we supposed to get to it now? Oh, it's a dead end, [Name]!”

“Hurry up, hurry up! Give me your hand.”

“Jump! I'm behind you!”

“Hurry up! Keep moving!”

“You stupid, pathetic waste!”

“You've been number one for too long, [Name]. Now your time is up!”

“Mama, another gator got in the house!”

“Give me that shovel! Come here!”

“All right, I got a move here. It'II bring down the house.”

“I think we stopped him, [Name]. You're safe now.”

“She's(he’s/etc) seen too much. You both have.”

“Well, I don't know about the rest of you guys but I spotted several big mistakes.”

“Two and a half years of undercover work were almost wasted.”

“What, you mean... you mean, I can't see her(him/etc) again?”

“I bet we get the rest of the day off.”

“Come on, pal, cheer up, we did it!”

“Oh, sure, we put the factory in the toilet, and... gee, hundreds of people will be out of work now. Not to mention the angry mob that'II come after us when there's no more power, but, hey... at least we had some laughs, right?”

“Oh, I love kindergarten. Best three years of my life.”

“[Name], you're such a charmer.”

[altocat]

YEAh Hojo is so unpleasant and the icing on the cake of his whole horror is that he ACTUALLY gets dates.

Like... Sure maybe those women around him are paid but like. We have to consider the possibility. That he can actually charm people well enough in short bursts to get multiple women hanging off him in the beach scene despite acting Like That naturally. Like is he just that good in bed or something? Horrible thought to contemplate let me bleach my eyes but just??? Like what does he have going for him???

And worse, how are those women treated? Like from what little details we got about how he treats women and people he has control over in general, probably Not Well. BIG YIKES.

The level of sexually uncomfortable just oozing off Hojo is terrible already and then we add the absurdly sexist womanizer thing on top just urrrgh. Enough Red Flags to give a bull a seizure there.

I always saw it as people finding Hojo charismatic not necessarily because he's the strongest or best looking, but because he has CONFIDENCE. He says what he feels, he gets what he wants, and he gives no shits about how his actions impact others. He just does what he wants because he's Hojo. And people are drawn to that.

Think about it--does Hojo ever actually LOSE at any point throughout the entire Compilation? Okay, maybe Dirge. Technically. But isn't it enough that he's already sort of cheated death? In the OG? He gets the last laugh by injecting himself with Jenova cells and then goes out thinking he's given Sephiroth the advantage. The man is perpetually unfazed by everything. He's never truly rattled. He sadistically seizes whatever opportunity comes his way and he revels in it.

@heraldofcrow and I were shitposting about this earlier, but Hojo undeniably comes out on top this entire fucking series. Even if his plans don't ultimately succeed, even when his "creations" fail him. He's always five steps ahead of everyone and he just shrugs off whatever people throw at him. He literally gives no fucks.

I'm not saying Hojo has rizz.

I'm saying that Hojo is a MEGA CHAD and it turns out his offspring inherited his flawless MEGA CHAD genetics.

I'm joking he's awful