#toaster writes

[tosteur-gluteal]

Imagine yourself laying in bed, in the middle of a summer night, unable to sleep.

Your eyes glide across the room - a subtle sense of nostalgia an odd emptiness overwhelms you.

You notice a strange book laying on your nightstand: You just arrived at the house you've spent most of your childhood in for summer break. You were probably to tired from the trip to notice it at that time.

So you take it, remove a thin layer of dust- Oh, you remember now.

You used to study its content with your best friend - or rather, scribble over the empty pages. But where did it come from? Before you can even think about it,

strange lights come out of the book.

You believe you are still dreaming. The lights escape from the window. Against your best judgement, you decide to follow them, running across the town until you reach the forest where they twirl around the tree branches.

You feel quite... uneasy. You know you have been there before, and that the forest is most probably empty; but you can't help but to feel observed as if it could eat you alive. Suddenly, you trip.

The book falls on the ground in a muffled thud. You crawl forward to get it back, until,

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Mischievous Curiosities

(Part 1)(Part 3)(Part 4)

—

Time written- 11:52 a.m.

Titans! Jason Todd/fem!reader fluff/smut

(Tags: 🔞📲 Phone sex, use of toys.)

—

The same day after convincing him to step off the ledge, you recall taking a seat beside him at the vacant table to listen to what Dick had to say.

From the faintest glance over your own shoulder, you saw many eyes on you. You didn’t care, Jason had never done anything wrong to you. He hadn’t done anything wrong to them, you never understood their abrupt change in behavior.

You only hoped your presence provided him some sort of comfort. You didn’t know them, but even with his hidden, somber expression by his propped up arm, he truly appreciated it.

That very next night, your abandoned phone on your bed rings from an unknown number.

A hopeful bloom of warmth rose in your chest from your immediate suspicion of who it was. You remember slipping him your phone number if he ever needed someone to talk to.

Answering the call, you never smiled so big upon hearing his voice. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he says, a faint sniffle coming from him. “Do you.. do you got a minute?”

“Of course,” your smile waned a little when you detected his wavering emotional state. “You okay?” You question, immediately concerned for where he was now, if he needed some help. “Do you wanna meet up—?”

“No, no,” he’s quick to respond, followed by another sniffle. “No, I.. I just wanna talk. You free?”

“Yeah,” you sit on your bed, crossing your legs as you got comfortable. “I’m here.”

That very phone call had mostly consisted of him thanking you, to your absolute surprise.

Full bodied words of thanks, spoken amidst breath halting sniffles and stutters in between words. Your heart ached as you patiently listened, your own tears invading your screen the closer you clutched your phone to your ear.

Jason was grateful, grateful that the person who he assumed hated him was the only one who believed him in the end. In a sense, you didn’t need his thanks, you were just doing the right thing.

You did what your heart told you to do, listening to him pour out his troubled mind over the phone as the hour grew late. Until his mind was eased enough to let him sleep.

A mere two days passed before he sends you a text while you were occupied with apartment searching on an early morning.

Hey. Wanna meet up for breakfast?

It made you smile, along with a little flutter in your chest as you liked his text before asking for a specific time.

Jason surprised you with flowers at the small cafe, a simple bouquet of roses framed with baby’s breath. He shrugged when you kept asking him the reason for them, a smile nearly permanent on his face at your reaction.

You rarely got flowers. You didn’t care much for them before, but for him to surprise you with them was a heartwarming sentiment. Another way of saying thank you for being there for him when no one else was.

The two of you spent your breakfast learning about each other, leaving the establishment knowing a whole lot more in about two hours than the months you worked as colleagues at the Tower.

The unofficially stated, preferred method of communication became long phone calls when neither of you were available. That, or random texts throughout the day when either of you needed the company and entertainment.

Jason’s texts were never dry, always interested in anything you had to say. You loved that about your quickly blooming friendship, it was never boring, never running out of room to speak of anything and everything on your minds.

As it turned out, your sense of humor was eerily similar towards his. Especially in the friendly insulting department.

One day, he called you up after Dick had finished helping you into your new apartment, your phone ringing merely minutes after the man left your front door. Talk about timing.

His laughter invaded your apartment kitchen after you struggled with how to use your new toaster oven, one of Barbara’s house warming gifts.

“It is even plugged in??”

“It is!” You yell at your phone, your hands occupied with finding a nonexistent on and off switch on the appliance.

“Try turning it on, maybe??”

“You get your ass over here and try it—!” You cut off when it occurred to you that he meant using the knobs. The bright red button blinking to life as the coils inside glow a hot orange.

“Did it work?” He speaks up shortly after your silence.

“Yeah.” You mumble, your defeated tone making him laugh.

“You’re a bit of an airhead, babe.”

Babe? Why’d he call you that?

“Fuck you, Todd.” You spit back at your screen, your cheeks dappled with color.

He would call during when you worked, sitting on the carpeted floor of your apartment. Days like these, he’d share more and more of his interests, pieces of his past, and funny memories of what few friends he has. And had.

You questioned him about this after laughing about the story of Gar hitting him on the head with a staff during a sparring session. You weren’t there to see it and only heard Gar’s version of it. Hearing Jason’s side was just as funny.

“Gar and I… we don’t talk much these days. Especially after everything.”

“You should,” you say, hoping you could get them to reconnect. “I mean, you should reach back out to him. He’s got a big heart, I’m sure he’s wondering if you’re okay.”

You knew they were friends, both boys laughing and talking nonsense behind your shoulders as you worked on the Batcomputer. Back then, the additional noise annoyed you, but thinking of it now, you preferred that then silence after everything that’s happened.

“You want me to send him a text for you?” You offer after a short silence, fingers now mindlessly fidgeting with your laptop keyboard.

“Yeah,” he replies. “That sounds nice. Thanks.”

He started with the minor pet names a little more often, to your surprise.

After waking up one morning in your bed, you were surprised at the nine hour phone call from your overheated phone, clinging to life on a measly three percent battery.

“Jay?” Your tired voice calls for him as you rub your eyes, stretching your arm out over your head. “You up?”

“Yeah,” his exhausted voice responded after a few seconds, his voice riddled with lack of sleep after the both of you stayed up until three a.m. “Morning, babe.”

“Huh?” You ask, a tickle of a smile forming on your lips.

“I said morning,” Jason repeats, as if he’d never said it at all. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

It seemed like Jason’s response to you letting those little pet names slide was to continue, which he did. After a few more easy to miss little names here and there, he grew more bold, his ego stroked every time he heard your minor stutter over your phone call.

Boundaries were slowly crossed, from playful insults, to minor flirts on his end that left you speechless, not having that quick, witty dexterity Jason was blessed with.

Speaking of boundaries, Jason had a knack for calling you late at night, when you were supposed to be asleep.

Your phone cuts off your music, the ever so familiar Caller ID popping up on your screen before vibrating.

“What, Jason?” You purposely begin with feigned irritancy, your attention focused on your laptop, in the midst of some midnight online shopping.

“Jesus,” his amused chuckle floods your room once you put him on speaker. “Did I interrupt your private time?”

“Private time?” You muse, eyebrows quirking in amusement. “What do you mean?”

“Y’know, late night activities. The usual… y’know.”

“Ohhh,” you vocally express your understanding, shaking your head as if he could see you. “Nope. Not my style.”

“You don’t use those?”

“Use what?”

“A toy, babe.”

It took a few seconds for you to reply with no, your upper body fully flushed with arousal as your fingers halt on your keyboard.

“Why’re you asking?” You question after some hesitation, a strange little hum pooling at the bottom of your tummy, but you ignore it for now.

“Just curious,” he brushes off his out of pocket commentary. “What’re you up to then, mama?”

“Just doing some shopping,” you reply, quickly submerging yourself into conversation with the man. While you had been occupied online, Jason had been lounging in his own room, struggling to sleep.

His habit of calling you up nearly every night since the very first time had never broke, not unless something important had to make either of you reschedule.

“Do you really not have a toy?” His curiosity over the supposedly past subject made you pause, having you wondering why he was so interested on it.

“I do,” you weakly admit, believing it was bad to lie to a close friend like this.

“Aww, why’d you lie to me?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing.” You mutter, slowly forgetting about your pending shopping cart full of clothes you’ve debated on getting this entire day.

“I don’t think it is.” Jason smirks on his end. “What, Is it pink?”

“No,” you bite your bottom lip for a second, closing your eyes in a sort of shame. “It’s red.”

Jason nearly snorts over the phone, muffling out a chuckle to himself. You just know he’s gonna say something about it, you know him incredibly well by now.

“You think of me when you use it, Princess?”

“Fuck you,” you whine out, your cheeks burning as bright as overheating technology.

“Know you wanna,” he rasps. “But first, you gotta earn it. Tell me the truth.”

You grunt again in a jumble of irritation and embarrassment. Jason was your friend, your very good friend. You didn’t have a right to think thoughts of him like that, regardless of how attractive he is.

The man was still fresh out of a relationship, poured his heart and soul out to you, relied on you for structural stability, the bond he craved. In term, you were on the same boat, minus the relationship.

This was wrong, it had to be. Right?

But he knew what he was doing, of course he does. How else did you get to this point?

“I do,” you exhale in defeat, crossing the forbidden border for good.

The muscles in your hips slightly quiver with a growing, aching heat in your core. He lowly chuckles, his voice slowly dropping an octave, pure sex dripping off his tongue.

“Anyone ever done this with you?”

You shook your head at first, quickly forgetting that again, he couldn’t see you. “No.”

“Must’ve had some boring boyfriends, eh?”

“Never, actually.”

This takes Jason by surprise, causing a jumpstart in his heartbeat. “You’ve never—“

“No.” God, you were so quick to reply, making his mind run wild. This means you’ve never… you really shouldn’t have revealed this to him.

“You ever taken dick before, babe?”

“Elaborate, please.” Your nose crinkles with amusement, making him scoff.

“You ever been fucked before?” He questions again. “Ever have a guy make you come?”

“I.. no.” You admit again, your heartbeat running wild in your ears.

“That’s okay,” Jason soothes, a big smile plastered on his face. “Just listen to everything I say, an’ I’ll get you there. Alright?”

You close your laptop before pushing it aside, a large air of nervousness bathing your senses. Were you really gonna do this?

“Does it feel good? Knowin’ you’re fixing to give me a private show?”

A huge part of this was exciting. Any possibility of red flags looked friendly enough to be considered green clean though. You trusted him, just as he had with you.

“Kind of.”

“S’okay to be nervous, it’s just me. Get comfortable, mama. Relax for me.”

“Okay.” You say, laying back against your bed, your hair sprawling along your pillow. It didn’t help that your nightmare was an oversized shirt and plain, cotton panties. Or maybe it did help, all for convenience.

“Touch yourself how you usually do.” Came his first request, a gentle demand that made your heart nearly jumpstart.

Your trembling hand slip under your panties, touching yourself as if for the very first time. The muddled warmth in your tummy that formed since the start of this conversation resulted in your fingers delving along your slippery wet heat, nearly making you shudder.

“You wet, baby?” He asks, hearing the faint hitch in your breath you attempted to hide.

“Mhm.” Was all you could say.

“S’okay, babe,” he exhales, the hem of his sweats pushed down under his waist, grasping the head of his cock in hand. “Let those pretty sounds out. Lemme hear you.”

Your fingers hesitantly trail over your swollen clit, your breath hitching again from newfound sensitivity. Two fingers stroked along yourself, gently pinching your bud in between, making you hold a muffled whine.

Jason pictures the sight of you now, pussy hot and wet and aching for cock. What he’d give now to replace your fingers with his, lips plastered against your sticky clit, your hands grasping against his curls as he busies himself in between your thighs.

Imagining what his mouth must’ve felt like, those plump lips drinking up your syrupy sweetness left you nearly moaning, clasping your phone against your chest. Your pussy clenches over nothing, desiring to know what it feels like to be stretched wide and full of Jason’s cock. Rugged hands grasping the fat of your hips as leverage as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Can almost hear how wet you are, babe,” he mutters against his phone, tucked snugly against his head and shoulder as he brings his hand towards his tongue, collecting spit to smear along his cock.

“Lick your fingers, an’ play with those tits, Princess,” Jason requests, imagining your fingers slipping under your shirt, pinching your eager little nipples. He’d do the exact same, pinching them until they’re sore before repeating the action with his teeth, watching each abused breast bounce once he releases it.

Turns out, you thought the very same, hooking your shirt up just enough with your thumb to squeeze along your chest, sighing with the additional friction.

“Take out that toy you were talkin’ about. Wanna hear how it works.”

You say nothing at first, leaving him slightly concerned. That feeling quickly diminishes once he hears shuffling along your blankets, the dull glide of your drawer getting pulled open making his smirk return.

“No way is that toy gonna fuck you stupid,” he mutters instantly into the phone. “That’s gonna be my job. Y’hear me, babe?”

Those filthy words nearly set your nerves on fire, causing a trembling change in your breathing.

“Mhm.” You nervously reply again.

“Shy little baby,” Jason lightly cooes, amused by your hesitancy. “M’waiting, Princess. Play with that toy, lemme hear you.”

He waits anxiously as your nerves make your thumb tremble along the button of your red vibrator, his own hand coming to a halt as he does so.

It takes a good moment for the phone call to pick up a slow, muffled buzz, but the sudden little whimper that erupts from your lips makes it all worth it.

“Ohh my God.” Jason mutters to himself, feeling lightheaded as he feels himself throbbing in hand.

He fights back a grunt himself while fisting his cock, wanting nothing more than to be buried deep into your tight, warm cunt. Jason wondered just how many noises he could pull out of you, bullying his cock deep into your inexperienced pussy until you screamed.

He never expected this, but he’s beyond glad that he pried. The Titans’ smart brains of nearly every operation, now resorted to becoming his quivering little virgin, getting off on his voice while fucking yourself with a fake cock, imagining it to be his.

Your naturally induced whimpers confirmed that, your phone slipping out of your hand as you weakly your breast again.

You whine a bit louder, your approaching climax so close you could taste it. Having an audience to this otherwise private, sensual event had you feeling unvisually exposed, completely vulnerable to the man who started this.

“That thing have settings?” Jason voices out over speaker.

“M-mhm,” you whimper out, silently thanking him for the question. “Yeah.”

“Turn it all up baby,” he urges, his voice growing raspier with his quick, frantic breathing. “All the way high.”

Quickly doing what you were told, your thumb shifts over the settings, quickly clicking on said highest setting. Your spread thighs immediately tremble with the sudden change of pace, the loud whirr of your toy invading your bedroom, along with your sharp gasps and abrupt moans.

“Ohh, good girl,” Jason nearly groans out, the muscles along his stomach tightened with urgency. “Good fucking girl. Wanna hear you come, babe. Wanna hear you make a mess of my fat cock. That’s what you want, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whimper out while your back arched off your bed, your bucking hips begging to be held down by his strong, calloused hands. Your chest heaved, dampened nipples exposed to the heated air, begging for a touch other than your own.

Jason’s audible presence was more than enough for you now.

“You wanna cum, babe? Wan’ me to fuck that little pussy?” Jason pants out, his voice slurring with an arousing ruggedness that shot shivers down your spine.

“Gonna ruin you, Princess. Gonna break you in good— shiiit, gonna ruin you for any other guy. That what you want?”

“God, y-yes Jason!” You gasp out, your head tilting back with another vulnerable whine, your eyes sealed shut.

“Good girl. That’s my good girl— Fuuuck!” Jason grunts out, his head buried back against his pillow, adam’s apple bobbing as he pants hard, eagerly stroking his soaking wet cock faster, fully leaking with thick, stringy precum.

“I-Jaaay.” Your sweet, quivering little voice calls out to him, your trembling fingers attempting to keep a strong hold on your vibrator. “Shit. Jason, I-I’m—“

“Yeah, I know,” he pants out, keeping a tight squeeze on his phone. “Come on, babe. Come for me, come on this cock. Lemme fill up that perfect little pussy.”

A sweet, burning release nearly blinds you, muscles tightening as your cunt quivers, releasing along the toy with a series of broken, genuine cries of ecstasy.

Jason never heard such genuinely erotic sounds come from your lips, pushing him off the edge after successfully nudging you to it. Thick, hot ropes of cum bead along his abdomen, the muscles in his neck growing taunt as he vocalizes his finish through gritted teeth, gasping for breath shortly after bucking into his fist.

The nearly two hour call goes quiet, filled with nothing but two deflated, sexually satisfied people gasping for breath in their own beds.

Your cheeks remained flushed as your orgasm died down, your toy shut off seconds before you accidentally set yourself off into overstimulation. Your mind, after regaining some logical sense, wondered what the fuck just happened, but you weren’t ashamed.

Retreating your red toy away from your sticky cunt, your reddened cheeks heat further from the sight of strands of your arousal clinging along the device. Picture worthy evidence of what your close friend had done to you.

Your eyes catch a weak glimpse of a bundle of dried roses along your vanity after your trembling hand placed your toy on your nightstand. The same roses you debated on hanging on your wall for decoration, still secured together by your favorite colored bow.

Oh shit, you quickly realize. He had took you out on a date.

You may never have been friends to begin with.

“Babe?” His soft pant calls for you over the phone, snugly tucked underneath your shoulder after your vigorous activity. “You there?”

“Yeah.” You grasp hold of your phone, putting it off speaker before bringing it close to your ear. “I’m here.”

[turtleblogatlast]

Uhhhhhababba Mikey and Leo blowing up the kitchen. (It’s mostly Leo)

Im not good with prompts lmao

See, here’s the thing.

Technically, Mikey is the best one in the kitchen. And technically, you could say Leo is second best at it!

If you don’t count toasters into that equation.

Unfortunately, Leos and toasters are a match made in hell, and the current state of what used to be the kitchen is a testament to that universal fact.

“Well.” Leo says, covered in soot and burns. “At least it looked cool, yeah?”

And, having cheered Leo on, Mikey can only respond with a, “It totally did.”

[pybun]

been writing this story since 2021 and i finally wrote an actual synopsis for it

i still have no title tho

[toaster-hair]

i think a good and compelling romance story should work even if it were platonic.

if the relationship of the two main characters is only compelling is because they are expected to get together, then thats no good.

but, if the two (or more) characters have an interesting dynamic, chemistry, as well as just generally good writing, then you could easily make them compelling without even having to be romantic

[sunshowerwriting]

making nakedtoaster and you a matching bracelet

toaster isnt the most jewelry wearing person. however, that doesnt mean they wouldnt appreciate your thoughtfulness, and because its coming from you he would absolutely wear it. its odd that toaster isnt much of a jewelry person, it certainly looks good on them. you clearly know that, but this little bracelet was more about the feelings behind it than adding to his wardrobe.

a beautiful, hand made threaded bracelet looks perfect adorning toasters wrist, but the thing thats most important to them is that now whenever youre apart, you both have something to remind yourselves of each other. they love having a reminder of you when youre apart. and they also admire your craftsmanship, the bracelet is beautifully crafted.

for: @zurilurii

[0rphiichaze]

     “Ughh… what time is it..?”

The pleasant drag of Toaster’s drowsy voice cuts through the previously quiet atmosphere, pulling your attention away from the laptop at your fingertips. Frosty blue eyes flutter open, meeting your own. You turn away from them for a moment to look back at your screen.

      “2:17.”

He groans and rolls a bit closer to you.

     “Shit…”

You reach one hand out, slowly carding your fingers through their silky smooth locks. It draws out a sleepy hum from his lips, and they subconsciously lean into your touch.

     “Why didn’t you wake me up..?” His voice is still a quiet murmur, purred into the bed sheets pressed against his cheek. You simply shrug, though a smile comes to your lips.

     “‘Dunno.”

Your tone of voice says otherwise, causing Toasty to peek one eye at you. You can’t help but chuckle at their expression. “You just looked cute I suppose.”

A familiar sputter of syllables slips from their lips, and he buries his face back into the bedsheets. You can’t help but laugh, carefully pulling your hand from their hair. Or at least, you attempt to.

Their hand catches your wrist and drags you back — planting your hand back in his hair. Their hand stays loosely wrapped around your wrist, his skin much warmer than usual. Another quiet chuckle slips from your lips.

     “God, you’re adorable.”

He groans, but doesn’t reply.

✩ Reblogs are appreciated !!

[sracha]

rosebird cringe :(

[scatterpatter]

HEY YOU SHOULD WATCH THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER

Oh nooooo if only there were an easy way to find it tho... if only... oh man... if only- oh oops sorry I tripped-

Oh man if only it were easy to watch... oh man...................

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

got so into my laughingstock feels that i burnt my fuckign toast

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Okay, but. SWK Truth serum au. Imagine him being forced to communicate. Comedy, hurt/comfort, and finally clearing up, well, everything. I’m not sure where I’m going with this, sorry. Have a great day, bye!

“You know who broke the toaster, Monkey?”  The word “yes,” was pulled out feeling forced and unpleasant.  Pigsy looked like he already knew the answer before he asked. Wukong wasn’t sure why he bothered asking at all.  “Who?”  “I did.”  “Of course…” Pigsy pinched the bridge of his snout and sighed before looking at him, brows furrowed with some familiar annoyance that made Wukong’s hands twitch. “Mystic Monkey strength and all that I bet.”  Not a question so Wukong just gave him a forced smile instead of answering. He glanced away to look over at where Mei and Mk were arguing over whether it was sane to put butter on plain bread without toasting it first.  “Nothing to say for yourself?” Pigsy asked after a long moment of silence.  “No,” the words slid out, unraveling, too many.  It made him lightheaded the more he said, not unlike the feeling that came with blood loss. Dizzying and empty. Every word took something with it as it left him. “It never matters what I say.”

Anon you have no idea how desperately I want to write an entire fic about this, I have been thinking about this constantly since you sent this ask bKL;SDMAFAOWEF

[tosteur-gluteal]

Slutty priest is homophobic (chaos ensues) - OMORI MLB AU x Priest!Nick au (French version)

This is a collaborative fic I've made with @theokusgallery! This does not contain any spoiler, and is in French (English version coming soon. Probably. maybe.) Trigger warnings! This fic contains queerphobic slurs, as Priest!Nick is very repressed. If this makes you uncomfortable, don't hesitate to avoid this post! With that out of the way, Bonne lecture!

Les carreaux de la Cathédrale se brisent en milles éclats. Ladybug, dans la hâte, ne remarqua pas la présence du prêtre: une alerte akuma avait été formulée trente minutes auparavant dans ce quartier, et selon le protocole, on avait fait évacuer les lieux pour la sécurité des citoyens. En l'occurrence, Ladybug avait décelé une activité suspecte au sein de la Cathédrale.

Le prêtre, caché sous les débris, regarda Ladybug depuis le sol. Il l'espionna alors que le jeune homme cherchait la source de la menace qui avait été formulée. Il attendit le bon moment pour sortir de sa cachette, l'attaquer, le tuer--

Et le moment vint.

Il sauta du sol, faisant tomber les débris autour de lui, et se lança vers Ladybug. Les ailes de chauve-souris qu'il avait dans le dos l'aidèrent à se propulser tandis que sa queue de démon s'agitait de bas en haut pour détourner les morceaux de vers qui auraient pu l'atteindre.

"Ce gosse, pensa Nick, il a le droit de faire ce qu'il veut, mais MOI…!"

Ladybug serrait les dents. Malgré son agilité, il éprouvait une grande difficulté à éviter les attaques du vilain. De plus, il lui fallait trouver un moment de répit pour communiquer son emplacement à son coéquipier.

"Très élégant, monsieur! Enfin bon, malheureusement, je ne pense pas qu'il soit approprié de porter ce genre de tenue en ce lieu sacré..!"

Ladybug sautait de pilier en pilier, forçant le vilain à lancer ses débris dessus.

"Oh pitié, rétorqua celui-ci, tout en ventilant son torse exposé de manière provocatrice; t'es très mal placé pour parler, travlo!"

Ladybug le regarda, interloqué, ne sachant quoi répondre, et Arsenic en profita pour tenter de lui asséner un coup de poing que Ladybug évita de justesse.

"Ladybug, tout va bien ?!"

Ladybug poussa un soupir de soulagement en entendant Catmint.

"C'est pas trop tôt ! Il t'en a fallu, du temps, qu'est-ce que tu faisais ?!"

"J'ai évacué tout le monde, répondit Catmint. C'est lui, l'akumatisé?"

"T'en vois souvent, des gens normaux avec des ailes, queues et cornes de démon, toi ?"

Catmint eut tout juste le temps d'éviter une attaque du "démon" avant que celui-ci ne fit volte-face et saisisse Ladybug par le col. Il plongea verse le sol, entraînant Ladybug avec lui, en le plaqua contre les dalles de l'église.

"Ça va, tu t'amuses bien à flirter avec ton pote, pédé?!"

Ladybug utilisait ses bras pour tenter d'échapper à la prise du vilain sur son cou.

"Tu m'as l'air…bien, bien frustré, mon gars-"

"Comment ne pas être frustré quand on voit que des gens de ton espèce se baladent librement, sans aucune crainte envers Dieu..!"

Avant qu'il puisse en rajouter une couche, Catmint libéra Ladybug de sa poigne d'un coup de pied bien visé.

"Combien de temps avant un Lucky Charm?" Catmint signait à Ladybug alors que tous deux s'étaient dispersés, en mouvement constant dans toute la Cathédrale.

"Cinq minutes. Gagne du temps."

Catmint hocha de la tête.

L'homme se releva, le regard fixé sur Ladybug. La haine dans ses yeux était claire, et Catmint décida de se lancer dans le combat plus intensément, puisque ce vilain semblait décidé à l'ignorer pour se concentrer sur Ladybug.

Il attrapa le bras d'Arsenic, et le jeta vers le mur de la cathédrale. Nick eut tout juste le temps de stopper son élan en utilisant ses ailes, mais avant qu'il ne puisse se jeter une fois de plus vers Ladybug, Catmint courut vers lui et saisit ses ailes pour l'immobiliser au sol.

Le vilain se débattit furieusement, criant vers Catmint, qui essayer tant bien que mal de garder le contrôle des ailes de l'homme.

"Allez, juste deux minutes de plus..!" pensa Catmint.

Arsenic se pencha violemment en avant, faisant voler Catmint, qui était derrière lui. Catmint se rattrapa et retomba sur ses pieds sans grande peine, s'élançant une fois de plus vers l'homme et lui portant un coup de poing dans le ventre qui repoussa le vilain. Arsenic attérit sur le sol, tenant son rosaire dans la main.

"C'est son rosaire…!"

"MAINTENANT !" cria Ladybug.

Catmint porta un coup de pied sur la main de l'homme qui tenait le rosaire. Celui-ci cria de douleur et lâcha le rosaire, laissant à Catmint le temps de le détruire.

L'akuma jaillit de la croix fendue; puis d'un saut contre le mur, il le captura en plein vol avec son yo-yo. Triomphant, il leva le poing dans les airs. "Je te libère du Mal!"

[beingatoaster]

one of the joys of writing exactly what I want to read: re-reading a year+ later and being deeply satisfied with every emotional beat and plot twist

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Little Toaster Who Could, Is An Asshole

@lovelyunknown @princessfanonanona @fangirlwriting-stories @fentoaster @axion-labs @turtlesnails @littlebadger

Toaster powers go! Terrorise the half-dead teen that hates toast! He deserves it! According to Wes at least.

Wes glares at Danny, Danny stares back in unbridled glee.

Wes flips him off, Danny flips him off right back… before doing double finger guns and sticking out his tongue.

Wes slams down the notebook he’d been using in an attempt to ‘write down’ his ‘proof’, not that written shit counted for shit with any of this shit, pointing aggressively at Danny; Danny points at himself too just very mockingly.

“Would you two stop making all my staff laugh? They have jobs to do and you’re half way to me just kicking you out”.

Wes rounds on the manager or owner lady, “but he is dead! He threw eggs at me! Invisible eggs!”.

Danny’s grin from the front doorway is a bit manic, “where would I even get invisible eggs! Huh Wes! Ever think about that one!”.

“Fuck you!”.

“Fuck yourself!”.

“You dated a damn harpy!”.

“Are you saying I unalived my own eggs!”.

“Why are you censoring yourself!”.

“Because you’re a weak little baby boy bitch!”.

“We are the SAME AGE!”.

“Say that to time daddy’s face! I dare you!”.

The owner lady throws her hands up, snapping, “out! Get out!”, at Wes.

Wes looks afronted, because he is, “what? Just me?!”, gesturing at Danny aggressively, “him????”.

She sighs, “he’s not actually inside my store, you are. Out”. She’s thankfully when Wes actually leaves, even if the teen hurls his ‘research’ at the Fenton boy first and runs after the Fenton kid when said Fenton starts sticking the notebook in his mouth and shaking his head back and forth like a feral dog.

There was something very wrong with both of those boys. Something very very wrong. The Fenton boy was definitely not dead though, that would be far too normal for a Fenton so unhinged.

Wes grabs the end of his notebook, Danny does not stop shaking his head though, resulting in Wes’s lanky ass getting flung and smacked around. Danny intentionally makes his mouth frothy for added rabies effect. Making Wes have to shake off, and pull a tooth out of, his notebook once he does successfully rip it out of Danny’s mouth. “Your existence is a crime and affront to god”.

Danny open mouth grins cheerily, “I thought I already established that the day I was reborn into death”.

Wes immediately writes that ‘quote’ down in his book.

Danny stares judgingly, “are you writing all my word weavy bullshit down? Really? That’s kinda sad, man”.

Wes scowls back, “that’s the thirty-second different way you’ve described being dead, one day that will add up and people won’t be able to deny me”.

“You’re gonna be great for my Wikipedia article one day, when you work for me as my maid”.

“Fuck you”.

“It’s still easier for you to fuck yourself you know”.

Wes tackles him, “oh how I wish someone else had to see you and your bullshit!”.

Danny scowls with feeling, slapping Wes a couple of times as they roll around on the ground getting muddy as fuck since it was raining out, “why would you say that! The curs-ed word! Banishment to the sinner! Boo!”.

“BOO YOURSELF!”.

“HOW DARE YOU! THAT’S MY LINE!”.

“YOU STARTED IT, I’LL FINISH IT!”.

“YOU CAN’T FINISH THE EXISTENCE OF A PHRASE YOU DIPSHIT!”.

“JUST LIKE YOU COULDN'T FINISH OFF YOURSELF PROPERLY!”.

Danny snarls, “I’m going to break you like a toothpick”, and pins Wes down using more arms than humanly possible.

Wes wishes he had his camera.

Wes does not have his camera.

At least Danny’s stupid ass ain’t heavy enough to break his ribs. “You weigh less than a bag of potatoes, go ahead and try”.

Now if Wes was a ghost, and thus could just reform a torn off limb, Danny would actually break his arm. But Wes is human and thus can’t do that. Meaning Danny can’t do that to him. Oh the woes of being morally in the right. If Wes were Vlad and a billionaire then Danny’d just burn down his house in recompense. Is he mentally using the word wildly wrong? Mostly likely, shut up Jazz.

Besides, Vlad would take the arson as a compliment and praise him.

Wes huffs, tired, “are you going to clean me off or not?”. Danny smirks and turns the teen intangible, all the muck falling through the teen… as well as all of his clothing except his underwear. Danny running off immediately while sticking his tongue out and cackling; all while Wes is scrambling up off the ground, wadding his re-soaked muddy clothes up, and hurling them after Danny.

They nail Danny in the head, making the stupid half-ghost face-plant into a streetlight. Wes shouting, “HA!”.

But Danny scrambles up himself, grabs the clothing, and holds them above his head, “mine now bitch! THE SPOILS OF WAR BELONG TO THE VICTOR!”.

Leaving Wes huffing, panting, by himself, slowly realizing that now he has to walk home muddy and practically naked… “Zone DAMN IT PHANTOM!”.

Danny, in distance, can be heard shouting, “GET WRECKED!”, by more than a handful of people. Everyone and their mother knowing that means the Fenton and Weston kids had gone at it again.

Danny floats down through the rarely used ‘attic’ grinning to himself, he felt like he accomplished a lot today. Looking around for an empty box, he is absolutely packaging up Wes’s clothes -without washing them- and mailing them through the post back to him. They were gonna be rank when the guy opened it up. Ha! What fun!

Transforming back as he finds a suitable box and some packing tape; dropping the clothing in unceremoniously with a feral grin.

Unfortunately it looks like today’s tomfuckery wasn’t quite done with him, as a voice he’s never heard (he thinks) shouts, “oh what the freshy fruity fuck!”.

Danny jumping up and spinning around, right, fuck, Wes saying a stupid wish. Fucking asshole! He should know better! And of course Danny would have been too distracted tormenting Wes to have noticed his ghost sense going off. Ancients end him entirely.

Thing is though? There’s no one. Like, actually no one, “what the?”. Oh is someone spying on him again? Someone who’s not Vlad?

And whom probably doesn’t have positive-ish motives for it?

That would be his luck after all.

The voice pipes back up again, “how the Hell do I! Me! Find this massive crap out! Are you always so pissy wissy with your shitty shit!”.

Danny starts pushing stuff around to figure out where the Zone the Voice is coming from.

It’s…

It’s a fucking toaster???

A TOASTER?????

The toaster seems disgruntled, the toaster flings itself at Danny’s face.

Danny promptly swats it into a wall.

Why is a toaster talking to him? How is a toaster talking to him? It attacked him! Sure that last part wasn’t super weird since Technus assaulted him with random appliances all the time, but still.

“Oh cool, a wall, as if being a toaster wasn’t hard enough”.

“Why are you talking?! How!”.

The toaster flops from side to side in a weird version of walking at Danny vaguely aggressively, “oh you know, only your happy pappy toasterifying me for the fuckin’ lolly lols or some somersault shit”, it uses its cord to throw a picture frame vaguely in Danny’s direction. Apparently the toaster had some pent up rage.

Fair.

So did Danny.

Danny side steps the picture frame, “and when did he do this? How even? You are like a whole ass person in there?”.

The toaster seems infuriated, slapping its cord around, “of course I am, numbnuts! I wasn’t born as no tinker toy bullshit! Who the fuck would give birth to a toaster!”, the toaster spits toast at him.

Danny is highly offended. He really hates toast.

Like if the universe had created one true evil it would be in the form of toast and only toast. Always toast. “Don’t spit toast at me! You absolute heathen!”.

“I’ll spit what I diddly darn wanna! Fuck you! I’m your upperclassman any ways, Fenton! So deally wheelly!”.

Oh ancients his dad turned one of his classmates into a fucking toaster. A toaster that’s spitting more roasted toast at him likely out of spite. Danny impales a piece into the wall with an ice spear.

The toaster snares, “don’t abuse my creations!”.

“Like Hell I won’t! Fuck toast!”, Danny tries tackling the toaster, it uses its cord to grab on to a lamp and effectively flee from Danny’s would be constrictive grasp. Danny shouting, “do you want to be detoasted or not!”.

“Oh it’s too late for that, you douchey canoey! Your poopy poppy sold that ‘ish to a Cullen Family wannabe actor with rich sauce for flavouring!”

Fucking Vlad! Ancients. Danny swears that, the sometimes vaguely evil, ‘mentor’/‘uncle’ of his gets into more weird shit than Danny did. And Danny’s the one who more or less infected an entire town with death, so that’s a feat and a half. Danny grinning, “I know that cash money bitch, I can take you there if you!”, another piece of toast is fired off, “just!”, more toast spit, “stop!”, again! Toast!, “assaulting!”, more toast, “me!”, you guessed it! Toast, “with!”, annnnnnd TOAST, “toast!”.

The toaster growls, it sounds like the metal shit inside it is clanging around violently, but Danny does manage to tackle it and walk through the attic wall all while holding it at arms length like it’s a bomb.

More than a couple people see the Fenton boy just… walking down the street screaming shrieking practically incoherently at a toaster he’s holding as far away from himself as possible; the toaster is firing toast haphazardly into the air and shaking wildly every so often… as if there’s some kind of demonic possession fuelled conversation going on.

Absolutely no one approaches to ask. And that was only partly because a random construction worker got thrown by the toaster cord at one point.

One person did shout, “watcha got there?!?”, at the teen though. Who had just responded with, “A SMOOTHIE! AN ANGRY TOAST SMOOTHIE!”.

Wes saw a video of it, Wes cackled meanly. He might have had an embarrassing walk home but at least he had a new phone background photo.

Danny hurls the toaster at the door in lieu of knocking, at least his coordination does not suck and he catches the toaster as it bounces back at him. The toaster shrieking, “I will bake you like a crispy spaghetti bolognese!”.

“Are you a fucking toaster or an oven!”.

“I’m a McHeaty McMaddy bitch either way!”.

Vlad opens the door with, “‘Maddie’?”, he is clearly extremely confused.

Danny grumbling, figures, “of course you heard the ‘maddy’ part and no not mom, this thing just speaks like a fucking lunatic”, and practically shoves the toaster at Vlad’s chest, “here, I… I need your help. I have a sentient toaster, that knows I’m vaguely dead-ish, ‘cause I do not look out for fucking toasters when transforming and shit”.

The toaster vibrates against Vlad’s chest and fancy suit, “then you’re a stupidy stopidy bibidy bopidy fool!”. Vlad looks offended.

Fucking good, honestly. Danny huffing and continuing like he hadn’t been interrupted, “and apparently Jack toasterified this toaster that used to not be a toaster and instead be a person, and apparently mailed a ‘Cullen Family actor wannabe with rich sauce for flavouring’ -which must be you- the invention dad did this with because he no longer, and I quote, ‘trusty-wustied him selfie-welfie’. Please tell me you have more tolerance for toaster spit than I do”.

Vlad sighs heavily, it’s both fond and annoyed. The man lets him and the toaster in at least.

Of course then the toaster instantly flees from his grasp. Like a dick.

Both him and Vlad just watch the thing fling itself around the mansion with its cord and ‘feet’. Vlad blinking, “this is somehow the strangest thing I’ve ever had to help you with”.

“I know right?”.

…”why is it a toaster?”, the toaster attempts to toast some of Vlad‘s paperwork, it unfortunately works. “I’ll admit to not believing that odd letter Jack sent about making a teenage toaster, I regret that decision deeply”.

“That’s fair”.

They both have to rush to put out the fire the toaster’s started, Danny shouting, “there is something seriously wrong with you!”.

“I’VE BEEN A TOASTER FOR A YEAR! HOW WOULD YOU FUCKY WHUCKY FEELY ABOUT THAT!”.

Danny nods acceptingly while chasing the thing, “I’d cry”. It’s true. He would.

Vlad actually laughs while helping with the chase, “yes the horror of being something that near exclusively creates your one true hate and fear”.

“Says the alcoholic!”.

“I thought you liked drinking with me?”.

Danny stops and shrugs at the man, “I mean yeah, but you kinda got a bit of an issue that we should probably sort out some day”, eyeing the toaster sucking in one of the portraits Vlad had done of them together. Vlad was going to kill this toaster at this rate, and fuck Danny might let him. “Preferably not now though, Sweet Ancients”.

Vlad hits the toaster with a broom, “bad! No! You spit that out right now!”.

“It’s not a cat, Vlad”.

“Well then it should not behave like one”.

The toaster escapes from the broom, knocking over a fancy glass top table shaped like a jaguar.

Danny grumbling and slipping on some glass, “at least it can’t vomit a painting up like a fucking hairball!”.

“I would absolutely make you clean that up, consider it a lesson on responsibility”.

“I do enough chores at home, Vladdie!”.

“And how many times have I offered to come and help?”.

“And how many times have I told you the labs too dangerous?”. Danny glares at the toaster as it bounces up and down on a fancy keurig, “hey! Leave the superior appliance alone!”. The coffee machine blows up.

“Die coffeefee!”

Oh yeah, fuck this toaster majorly. It spits more toast at Danny as if hearing his mental insult.

Vlad rolls up his sleeves, hands glowing some and stalking ominous after the feral machine. Danny throwing a pillow at him and at the toaster, a couple cat toys going sailing as well; one goes right into the toaster even. “Don’t actually kill it! That’s a person! Unfortunately!”.

“Y’all couldn’t killy billy me even if ya tried anyway!”.

“Do you want to die!”.

Vlad frowns at Danny, “somethings do, in fact, deserve to die. This is one of them”.

“No!”.

Ah say hello to the one thing neither of them can ever actually agree upon. Meanwhile the fucking toaster jingles, cat toy must have had a bell on it then.

Maddie the cat comes out of nowhere and bodily tackles the toaster, batting at it wildly.

She desires her toy. It has her toy. It will now be her toy!

The toaster shrieks and waddles away on its ‘feet’ rapidly, Maddie the cat smacking the ground after it trying to attack its cord, butt wiggling and paws flailing.

Vlad looks incredibly proud, “atta girl, Maddie”. Hell, even Danny’s incredibly proud, what a good cat. Fluffy and ferocious.

Vlad absolutely punts the toaster into the corner of wall mounted oil candle when it tries to shoot Maddie the cat with toast. Snarling, “I will end you”. Unfortunately he’s not quick enough with the ecto-blast to even singe the thing. It was one fast toaster.

Danny putting his hands on his knees and wheezing, toaster assaulting the chandelier, “how, how are we, getting the runaround, by a, by a fucking, toaster?”.

Vlad huffing with his hands on his hips, “when is anything your father messes with easy to resolve?”.

“Never?”.

“That’s what I thought”.

“Fuck, you”.

“I love you too Daniel”.

“Ancients you are, a weird uncle”.

“And you’re a weird godson”.

Which was probably the only reason this mentorship shit even worked at all. Both of them were way too fucking weird. Everything around them was always way too fucking weird.

Case and point?

The toaster managed to unhook the chandelier, which has now crashed down to the ground in a hail of tiny expensive diamonds.

But Maddie the cat is on a mission. A mission that shall not be deterred by any mess or wonton destruction. She bites the toasters cord and flings it around wildly like it’s a mouse she’s playing with.

A mouse she will keep playing with until it dies and stops moving.

She flings it up in the air and catches it by the cord again, regardless of the toaster trying to avoid that. “MAKE THE BATTY’S CATTY STOP!”.

“No”.

“Naw”.

To be fair, it was kind of hilarious. And Vlad and Danny were telekinetically moving anything sharp out of Maddie the cat’s way so she wouldn’t get hurt while she had her fun.

“Maybe I like being a toaster! Ever think about that!”

Both Vlad and Danny give simultaneous deadpanned, “why?”’s.

Maddie the cat flops herself on the toaster body, its cord still in her mouth, as she purrs happily and swishes her tail around lazily. She doesn’t look like she has any intention of releasing the toaster.

So the two halfa’s walk over and stare down at the toaster. The toaster pipes up dejectedly, “okay maybe that was a lie. I am angry and touch starved”.

“Fuckin’ mood”.

“That I can understand, to a degree”.

Danny and Vlad eye each other before both chuckling fondly.

“…help?”.

Maddie the cat purrs loudly.

Vlad smirks down at the thing, “oh I don’t know about that, Maddie looks quite content were she is”.

“I concur”.

Vlad blinks and grins wide, “glad to see your vocabularies improved”.

“You hired me a tutor, how couldn’t it?”.

“Money well spent, then”.

“HELLO! You CUCKY DUCKY’S gonna HELP!”.

Vlad makes a face, “I think you’d benefit from a tutor as well”, straightening his suit, and huffing, “but very well, I suppose”.

Danny chuckling, “I’ll keep an eye on murder mittens and her prey”. More so for Maddie the cat’s well being and not the toaster from Satan’s asshole’s well being.

…

Vlad gets the thing Jack mailed him, he never threw out anything Daniel’s parents sent him, in case he one day needed to use it to prove their neglect to outright abuse in a court of law. Someday CPS was going to have a field day with the case of a lifetime and then some.

Danny glances at the… rubber duck? As Vlad comes back over. “What?”.

Vlad rubs his forehead, “I was confused as well. It actually gets worse, some how”. Vlad bops the things on the head, causing it to inflate into a twenty foot tall rubber duck.

The toaster snarls, “damn you, ducky fucky! Damn you!”.

Danny picks Maddie the cat up off of the toaster while making ‘I’m watching you’ motions with his free hand at the toaster.

The toaster, knowing it’s beat and fearing the cat, does not move.

Vlad picks up the massive duck and drops it on the toaster, it absorbs the toaster and promptly spits a teenager out of its beak. The teenager landing on his back in a crumbled heap.

Danny blinks, “what the fuck dad? I have way too many questions”. The teen coughs up a jingly ball cat toy and Maddie the cat launches herself out of Danny’s arm at the ball as it rolls away; fluffy legs trying to carry her faster than she can go.

The teen stands up, hunched over with his limbs all spread apart like he’s attempting to take a fighting pose while also being extremely grossed out.

Danny blinks, “sooooo, you gonna tell anyone?”. Vlad sighs in exasperation.

The teen slowly looks to Danny, who gives him a hopeful look. “Fucking why? I got turned into a toaster, accosted two deady teddy’s, beat up by a cat, and vomited out of a duck. Ain’t no one believing shit dick all”.

Danny chuckles, “that’s fair. Wes tries but everyone thinks he’s crazy and he ain’t claiming shit that weird”.

The teen raises an eyebrow at him, still having not moved any other part of him a single inch, “ya got another fucker who found out and is now trying to exposey woosey you? Ha! You suck”.

“Fuck you”.

Vlad ruffles Danny’s hair, “and my offer to sue the boy into silence or provide hush money still stands”.

“I’m kinda having fun with it honestly”.

“I’ve noticed, and support you terrorizing him entirely”.

The teen spits out a toast on to the floor, looks down and stares at it, then does it again. More toast flopping onto the floor, “huh. Yeah no. Fuck this shit I’m out”, and waddles back and forth out the front door like he still can’t move his legs.

…

Danny sighs slowly, “dad is so going to have to write an apology letter to that kid”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “that man couldn’t be bothered to send me a single generic ‘get well soon’ card, you know he won’t do that”.

“Ugh”.

Danny absolutely has to get Jazz to write the apology letter, because Danny’s still to miffed about the toast assault to not come off as incredibly snide. Danny also collects as many toasts from Vlad’s place as he could and promptly dumped them on Wes in his sleep; he also finally mailed the box of muddy clothes.

The teen, meanwhile, absolutely spits toast at Jack the next time he sees the elder Fenton, it is absolutely caught on video. Said teen also turned out to be on the football team, which in typical Casper-high fashion, accepted him back on the team immediately. The Raven’s opponents were not prepared for the feral ex-toaster or his toast-related cruelty. Dash also later high-fived Danny, in the face, with a slice of toast as ‘gift’; Danny bit him without hesitation.

End.

PRompts: Danny's identity is found out in the funniest way possible. "Whatch'a got there?" "A smoothie" An unexpected person finds out Danny’s identity. (By unexpected I mean less his parents or Mr Lancer and more like, Star. Or Aunt Alicia. The more out there the better.) "I..I need your help." BadgerCereal Maybe Danny had been having a bit too much fun taunting Wes and even transforming in front of him. It was definitely coming back to bite him now…To be fair though, no one knew Desiree was right there. Maddie (the cat) saves the day Anything Badger Cereal (Vlad and Danny platonic father/son , mentor/apprentice )

[everything--random]

G/t story's with kitchen setting be like:

Oh god the giant saw me! Where do I hide?! There are so many options! I'll go with the easily movable toaster! *A few seconds later* Oh fuck I've been found!

It's always the toaster! I'm not complaining I just find it funny.

[chris-continues]

ehehehe.. piercings …. with toasty or xyx (ormicahyujinifyousowish)

“You used to have earrings?” Your thumb brushes curiously over Toast’s earlobe, their breath hitching deliciously next to your ear.

“Haha, yeah.” They swallow, hands nervously set on your waist. “Used to wanna be scene. Had the spiky belts, got some stuff from a mall. It was really cool.” Your arms moved to wrap around his neck. You really did enjoy soft moments, wrapped between each other. You wanted to know every bit of Toaster- the embarrassing, the interesting, the funny, the sad.

Just the whole toaster, really.

“That’s so cool, oh my gosh!” Oops. Louder than you meant to be, but they laugh good naturedly at your excitement.

“It was pretty embarrassing, I didn’t completely rock the look.. it was more scemo.”

“I bet you looked amazing. You should show me a photo sometime, you know.”

They shook their head profusely, “maybe, one day.” Their chuckle made you forget all about those photos, goofy grin wide on both of your faces.