#and that anyone who challenges us wants to extinguish us completely. asking us to shut up is threatening genocide..

[kpmeat]

gripping my gideon bible hey God if you really made me to be an atheist then why do i still think of the world in terms of Us vs the Secularists

[rcksmith]

Desire — Kaz Brekker

(Photo not mine)

Requests: “Hello there! I've been around this blog for a bit now and you are an amazing writer! I was wondering if you would be ok with doing something with 21 28 & 29 from the smut prompts and kaz brekker? If you are uncomfortable please just ignore this!”

“Kaz brekker Smut prompts 28 66?? Love you💖!!”

“I can request Kaz smut prompts 29?❤️”

Smut prompts:

21. “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.”

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

66. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of shot, mention of desire, desire, mention of smut, explicit smut, NSFW.

Word count: 3k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

I hope you like💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There was something about you. Something impossible to decipher, with a glow hovering around you like a electrical energy. Wrapping your whole body in a cloak of magnetism. There was something about the way you spoke, walked, laugh. Something about what it was like to be you, in your beauty and mysteries like a sphinx.

Something that made Kaz Brekker completely furious.

You couldn't be more distorted from the image, in Kaz's mind, than what was to be a peaceful woman. Calm, controled, with steel emotions and wit in eyes. Someone who, like him, knew how to dance the waltz of negotiation, manipulation, who could blend in with the shadows and know the best time to listen more than speak.

You were not like Inej, you were not like Jesper. Hell, you were like nobody Kaz has known in all of his 28 years.

Nothing reminiscent of calm and control would be used to describe what it meant to be you.

Your soul are stormy, loud, obstinate, too stubborn and too talkative. You needed to speak loudly, laugh, move, expose your opinions to the seven winds and to whoever listened the most. You needed to question, inquire, doubt and test the limits of any situation. A direct order for you would be an affront to your free and independent spirit. A command that would curtail your freedom or tame your strong genius was almost like an invitation for you to do exactly the opposite of what they had ordered you to do.

So, for a man of trained reasoning, subtly balanced world, and who was used to his every command being followed vehemently and promptly in blind obedience, such a personality like you was like introducing a disturbing factor capable of shaking all his judgments. Sand in a watch, or stone in a shoe, would be no more a nuisance than a strong nature like your.

The extraordinary stubbornness and mania to counter his orders - when, in your words, they were unreasonable - had made you different from all the women Brekker had ever met. Kaz liked challenges and responsibilities, a good puzzle, but you were on a level far beyond that.

You were a danger to his peace of mind. And you knew that. All his aversion to your indomitable spirit only served as fuel for your own mission in to piss him off. Few men were like Kaz Brekker, you knew that, with a strength of character too powerful to be ignored. He was not just comfortable in his position of authority as he was obviously unable to act in any other way than as a leader. His stoic figure and always so contained in a wall of indifference made you want to ruffle his hair to see if you could remove any emotion. And being a girl who hasn't always liked leaders, Kaz Brekker was a huge temptation. Few moments had been better than those that you managed to piss him off beyond what he could handle.

However, all the reasons why the two of you were so exasperating for each other, did not explain why the air crackled in ambiguity when your eyes met. The hemisphere was adorned in a thought-provoking, poignant veil, like a warm honey flowing down its throat, and there was something else in the way blood flowed like flames of fire through veins of you two.

Jesper said that the sexual tension between you was so tangible that it could be cut by one of Inej's knives, but you refused to think of Kaz that way. At least until that moment.

Not pure images of what the infamous Brekker could do to you between four walls swept you like the strong Arabian wind. Making you be surprisingly breathless. Kaz was not a man whose private life was exposed, nor was he involved with many women, but you have heard two or three of them when they were drunk saying that Kaz Brekker in the room could be incendiary.

Everyone knew that his touch reserve didn't limit him to anything, but that his job was at the top of the priority list and that sexual encounters were almost never on that list.

"It was not my fault!” Jesper defended himself one night, slightly drunk, sitting at the club's round table next to the other crows “I didn't know he was married to another man! That damn pretty face seduced me!”

"Did he seduce you?" You asked, skeptical and playful.

"I swear to God! And it had been a long time since I had sex with anyone, and I went… ”

“But you did sex last week." Inej laughed, chocked.

"Exactly!" Jesper said, as if he were obvious.

You laughed with your beer glass in your hand, taking another sip.

“Is a week a long time to not sleep with anyone?" Matthias retorted, trying not to laugh.

“Are you going to tell me that is not?” Jesper and Nina spoke at the same time.

“If a man has time for sex more than once a week, he clearly doesn't have much to do. And I'm sure I gave Jesper a lot of tasks that would keep him busy.” Kaz narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Jesper hid his guilt behind the rim of his beer glass, looking to the side.

"So you are saying that you are a very busy man?" You teased, trying not to laugh at the scathing look Kaz sent you.

"I disagree. The values ​​of hard work and discipline cannot match the hot body of a woman in bed.” Matthias said, exchanging a brief conspiratorial look with Nina, who winked at him.

"There are more important things." Said Kaz.

"Like what?" You rested your chin on the back of the hand whose elbow was on the table, the playful look of a rebellious student.

"Progress." Kaz held your gaze.

He wasn't going to take your bait. But you didn't give up easy.

"Tell me, if God gave you a deal: all the hunger in the world would be extinguished in exchange for you never being able to have sex again, what would you choose?" your eyes had a teasing feline glow.

At that moment, Kaz felt a shiver up the back of his neck, like a warm breath of autumn. Something crawled, like a snake, across his rib cage and down to his groin, pumping blood like fire through his veins.

He held your gaze, but the feline glow in your eyes promised to contain the most ardent sins. Suddenly, Kaz's mind was flooded by the wave of obscene images of you, on his bed; moaning, squirming, shouting his name and being very obedient with every order he gave you.

He would make you such a good girl...

"I don't believe in God." He replied succinctly, the predator's eyes still in your eyes audacious feline's.

A big, satisfied smile spread across your face, and you said: "As I thought. Bad luck for hungry people.”

Realizing that he had fallen right into your cunning trap, Kaz got rid of your diabolical magnetism and cursed.

“I didn't say…” he stopped, impatient “It doesn't matter. I have more important things to do than waste time here.”

But the smile you hid behind the glass was noticeable to Kaz.

After that night, the crackling, gasping flame that circled the two of you intensified to alarming levels. Kaz could feel you holding your breath when he was too close, and you could see him squeezing his cane harder when you sweetened your voice for him.

However, regardless of Kaz's wanted to fold you at a table and put an end to your brat girl pose, enjoying the groans he was sure you would let out, the two of you still fought like dog and cat.

Just as it was now.

“What do you mean, I'm not going?!” You looked at Kaz, amazed, when he told you that you would not participate in the robbery that week “I know that security system like the back of my hand!”

It was true, what you had of stubbornness, you had of technological intelligence. There was no computer that you would not hack, a program that you would not hack, and a system that you would not unlock. Your genius with technology made up for all your lack of obedience.

But Kaz ignored. “I've already told you. It's a more dangerous mission than you're used to and we don't have time for the plans you come up with right away.” He needled you.

“Are you referring to Switzerland?” You were never anything short of direct and inquiring. It was logical that you would question every orden. “But I already told you that when the alarm went off your plan didn't work anymore! I was more useful inside to deactivate the alarm than waiting outside.”

And stubborn. Holy God, how stubborn you were!

"And it cost you to get shot."

"But it was just a shot!"

Kaz looked at you, puzzled. “Just?! And wasn't it enough ?! You put the whole team at risk!”

“But if I hadn't deactivated the alarm, we would all be arrested! And only I knew how to do that!”

"My fucking God, isn't there a speck of common sense in you?!"

But you answered boldly: "Not when you impose clueless plans on me."

Mortified would be an understatement to describe how he was now. What an unbearable creature! Kaz felt the anger spread from his neck to his face, igniting his breath and squinting his eyes in annoyance.

Why was it so difficult for you to follow a simple goddamn rule?!

��Besides, your initial plan was flawed and there was no reason for me to be out when it was necessary inside and...” And you kept talking!

If you had noticed Kaz's completely enraged state in front of you, you would have been scared, shut up and ran. But, truth be told, Kaz suspected that even if you knew how to read the murderous humor in his eyes, you wouldn't have left that office. Much less be afraid. You could argue with the demon. And you would probably beat him out of tiredness.

However, regardless of the desire to shake you up, to see if that put any good sense in you, in that second, watching you gesture with your hands, defending your point of view as if it were the england queen's crown, something swept Kaz's body from the top of his head with dark hair to the tips of his illustrated boots.

The sound of the world was drowned out by the flow of blood itself in his veins. His heart hammered hard in his chest and, in that instant, a sharp sting in his groin and the pit of his stomach set him on fire.

His gaze went down to your mouth, which kept moving. And when it came up to your eyes, your stubborn and defiant gaze sent Kaz's rationality into space. He dropped the cane abruptly, which toppled to the floor with a hollow crack, and advanced towards you in firm and determined steps.

Gluing his gloved hands to your face, Kaz silenced all your protests with a strong kiss. Hot, fiery, domineering. The kind of kiss that held years of camouflaged desire, years of irritability, years of an unnerving desire to make you shut up with all the perverse forms that existed.

You weren't afraid of him. But you should. You should if you knew everything he wanted to do with you.

However, as if you have been burning in the same desire for years, you responded to that kiss with the same urgency. The same hunger. Kaz slipped his hands into your hair, closing his fingers there and deepening the kiss with ferocity. He felt beside himself, like a hungry wild animal that had been denied food for years and that only now had its teeth set on its prey. You moaned against his lips, bringing your hands to his lean, strong biceps, squeezing your fingers there.

You both needed air, but neither seemed to give a damn about that. Misted of desire that burned like a fire in their bodies, Kaz pushed the two of you backwards, slamming your back against the wall and swinging a frame beside. You gasped, and the gesture made it possible for Kaz to invade your mouth with his tongue, hunting every piece of hot meat. You two fought the same battle in that kiss: invade, dominate, conquer.

They both wanted to take the waltz, but Kaz would never let you conduct the show.

He pulled your wrists up, pinning them with one hand against the wall, leaving you immobile while sinking his mouth further into yours. Kaz felt you try to get rid of his tight grip, but he was stronger than you. And much more when he have a objective.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He murmured against your mouth, the tip of his tongue playing with your bottom lip. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Was impossible for you to control the loud moan that escaped. Your body trembling with desire, your legs wobbly, your wet core vibrating with his words. Kaz Brekker was a fallen angel. With a beauty and charm you've never been immune to.

How can you think you'd win the dominance game with him?

And, like the fallen angel he was, his smug and arrogant smile painted the corner of his lips when he saw what his lines did to you.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” Kaz mocked “If I knew it was only necessary to do this for you to shut up...” he brought his lips closer, his voice hitting yours “I would have fucked you like the naughty brat you have been a long time.”

If his caustic and maddening kisses hadn't been enough to break you in half, that statement would have done all the work.

In that second, you hoisted your white flag, biting your lip in a needy moan and closing your eyes for a second by the overwhelming vibration of your core. God, you needed more. Whatever he gave you. Anything he wanted to give you. You just needed more.

"Are you going to be good?" He played with the dough you were in his hands, his devilish mouth going down your neck, leaving a trail of fire and debris wherever he went.

You agreed, desperately. “Yes, Sir."

That title seemed to do things with Kaz. Because in the next second, his mouth was back on your. More urgent, more needy, more dominating. You shifted your hips for more friction with his, and Kaz rewarded your obedience by pulling one of your thighs forward, making your skirt go up, aligning your thigh on his hips and giving access for his member to fit perfectly against your pulsating core.

You moaned louder this time. Fingers clenching, heart pumping frantically. Kaz pulled his lips away from you for a second, taking his hand off your thigh and bringing it to your mouth.

“Pull.” He ordered, referring to the glove.

You murmured a low, excited moan, bringing your mouth to the glove and clenching your teeth on the cloth at the top of his middle finger. Satisfied, Kaz pulled his hand back, watching the alabaster skin peel away from the leather fabric. As soon as he was free, he removed the glove from your mouth, replacing it with his own and stealing all your breath in that fiery kiss.

His free hand wandered over your thigh, touching you for the first time with a touch that promised to show you all the most delicious and secret sins in the world. His tongue wrapped around your again, and the moan you let out was even greater when his long fingers brushed against your wet, throbbing core.

"S-sir!" You sobbed, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

"Look at you." His fire voice beat against your lips, the tightness against your wrists getting stronger, more possessive "I’ ve only started using my fingers and you ’re already shaking"

Your body cried out in unbridled desire, sobs mingling with loud moans and heavy sighs as Kaz tormented you with his fingers. He touched you, slid, opened and sank, increasing the volume of your pleas.

“P-please" You begged, the body in need, the urge too urgent.

Kaz looked you in the eye, a dark, malicious gleam burning in his Egyptian blue irises. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" He teased you.

But you no longer cared about his teasing. With your lips swollen and red, your heart racing and the core pulsing in despair on his experienced fingers, you were already surrendered.

"Please. I n-need." You mumbled submissively, rummaging your hips in his hand.

"I bet if I wanted to fuck you against my desk, here and now, you would be very happy to do it, wouldn't you?"

He was foisting all of his dominance on you, bending you to your knees for him. And you knew that. You knew he was taking years of anger out on you. But you couldn't care less. You wanted him. Ardently. Desperately. And if it was a good girl Kaz wanted, damn it, you would be a good girl for him.

You readily agreed, your eyes shining in supplication.

“Good.” Kaz pulled you brutally off the wall, turning you over to the table and pushing your chest against the icy wood, pulling your hips at him. “Because that's exactly what is going to happen.”

Suddenly, desire and hunger roared like a wild beast. Kaz watched you, bent over his desk, obedient, surrendered, offering every inch of your body to him.

His breath was burning in his throat and it was no longer possible to order his thoughts, contain his euphoria. He would fuck you so hard that it would make that memory the only thought when you remembered him. When you dare to rebut his orders.

Kaz pulled you skirt up and your panties down, letting out a groan that sounded more like a growl as he saw your wet core. Pulsing and desperate for him. For anything he wanted to give you. It sparked a fervent desire that Brekker had never felt in his life, devastating any possibility of thinking about anything other than fucking you.

Playing with your fingers in your slick, wet folds, you whimpered again, the core pulsing whenever he teased you inside, pressing his fingertips there but never entering.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" His voice came over the top of your shoulder, hoarse, animalistic, full of profane desires.

"Please." You were quick to beg “I do what you want! But just...please, please… ”

You already felt your eyes watering from over-stimulation, your heart burning so hard it was beating, your core aching from emptiness.

You sealed the end of the game between you. Kaz had won. In a triumphant checkmate.

And you didn't have to beg again. Barely seeing when he unbuttoned his pants, you just reasoned his hard, hot, pulsating member by opening your from the inside. Claiming everything that was yours as his in a strong, desperate, hungry lunge.

"S-sir!" You screamed, your nails scraping the wood from the table, the core pulsing overwhelmingly around his rigid member.

In a more badly lunge, Kaz sank completely into you, moaning loudly as he hit rock bottom. The gloved hand slid over your shoulder, propelled you to him while the bare hand tightened on your waist, hitting you at a steady, raw, animalistic rhythm.

The sounds were pornographic, dirty and loud, echoing off the walls. The air was hot like molten lava, pungent and muffled, driving you two lost breath. Their bodies clashed as if the world was going to end tomorrow, in aggressive, rough thrusts. These were thrusts that made half of his things on the table fall to the floor, mixing in a mess that would serve as a reminder later about the sinful activities you two did.

You screamed when Kaz took on more force, his fingers squeezing you so hard that they would leave you with marks on your shoulder and waist the next day.

"Fucking hell!" Kaz snarled between his teeth, feeling your flesh throb around him, squeezing he with such desperation that he knew you were close.

You sobbed, tears streaming down the corners of your eyes as you pushed your ass towards him, trying to bring him as deep as possible, as deep inside you as possible. But every time his pelvis smashed into your ass, a loud moan and the feeling of being completely full drowned you.

You begged, pleaded, for something you didn't know. But Kaz seemed to know. Taking both hands to your hips, your pace became even more unperturbed, pushing you to the limit until you cum in a scream in his name, your lungs on fire. Kaz came close behind, sinking as deep as possible and pouring all the hot liquid into you. Almost like a brand.

The air was filled with sex, lust and desire, filled only by the sound of their ragged breaths that struggled to stabilize.

You were still panting when Kaz's voice came after you: "Whatever I want, don't I?"

A deal with the devil.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Saved

Summary- 2.6k Bucky x You. Based on a ASK from anon-Hella Bi Bitch. Hydra tramautized you and you go to Bucky for comfort. Angst/Fluff. Also written for @jtargaryen18​ 4k Challenge. 

“Sweetheart. They are not coming.” Brock leered over your face, his hot breath washing over you, and it was almost impossible to miss the leer in his brown eyes as he cupped your face. If you had the capabilities, you would jerk away, but you were strapped down. All over, even your head was strapped flush to the hard metal table. The only thing you would do that would be satisfactory was work your mouth, draw up that last bit of spittle you had left and spat at him, making him curse while jerking back. 

It would be worth the pain he would cause next, knowing that at least he couldn't break you, just tie you down. Captain would be here soon, Iron Man, Natasha, Bucky… someone, someone would come for you. 

Brock retaliated by slamming an open palm across your face, biting back a cry, a burst of blood interrupted from your nose, racing down your face. 

As parched as you were, you welcomed the hot iron taste swarming your mouth, even through the pain. 

“Rumlow! You will step away from the girl. We need her.” 

Dread filled you as his face went from rage, to a cold smirk, pulling away from you. “Don't worry sweetheart, once they are done breaking you, you and I are going to do great things.” 

Your eyes flickered to the Hydra Agent, laying out his supplies, tools of pain and vials of poison to flood your system. Nauseated, you looked back up to the ceiling, and squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut. Tears welled up, you would probably be gone, dead before the team would find you. It was what you hoped for now. 

You would rather die then let them turn you evil. Wasn't there a saying? You either die a hero or turn into a villian. You prayed, prayed for death instead. 

A year you were tested on, preyed on until you became a shell. Moved from base to base, handled by various people. None had a shred of kindness, and Brock especially took joy in your torture. 

He was able to use the various instruments, had access to your cell whenever he wanted. Your personal bodyguard, your personal hell. In these times you sink away from yourself, your body started to work on their command, your mind an empty shell of your former self. Intelligent? Yes, but yourself, no. 

It wasn't complete yet, there was still a shred of you left. Holding on, barely. 

Your rescue happened one sunny afternoon, but you weren't to ever know this. You were deep underground, away from air and light. They had just dumped you in your cell when there coms went off. To weak to pay attention to the Hydra agents fear as they hurriedly locked you in, you crawled to your cot and folded yourself onto it. Another day of survived hell. Squeezing your eyes shut, you really just wished for it to end. At this point in any manner. So much pain. To much.

Alone for a while, you start to drift off into nothingness when metal on metal jolted you awake with a terrified whimper. You heard the clang on your bars and lifted your head up to see Bucky trying to see who was curled up on the cot. 

“B-b-bucky?” You eased up slowly to make sure you weren't seeing things, and then right next to him Steve stepped up, flipping his shield to hang on his back. 

“Doll, we finally found you.” Bucky exclaimed with relief, grasping the bars and wrenching them as hard as he could, the metal whining in protest, but it wasn't strong enough to hold him back from what he wanted. 

Steve kept a watch of Bucky's six, speaking into the com at his ear. “We got her, Bucky is collecting Y/N now, have the jet ready Clint. Nat, you just about done? Sam, cover us when we come up."

“Five more seconds and data is secure, Tony can blow this hell hole to dust.” 

Bucky's arm went around you for support as you went to stand, sore from earlier, he saw you hobble forward and he swept you up. 

“Just faster this way Doll, come on Steve. Before Stark gets trigger happy.” Bolting for the nearest set of stairs, everything became a blur as Bucky and Steve bolted from the building. Hiding your face in Buckys shoulder, you never did see that sunny afternoon. 

A shadow passed over Bucky and Steve bolting across the ground, and when you glanced up, lifting your head off Buckys shoulder, the flash of red and silver covered out the blue sky above, and you smiled to yourself, between Sam, Steve and Bucky, you were safe. Exhaustion dipped your head back to Buckys shoulder.

It wasn't long till you were back at Stark Towers, which hadn't been your home in a year. Bucky carried you down into the medic bay with Sam close by. The rest of the team went to debrief on the mission, knowing you were taken cared of. Bucky easily set you down on the table, hovering nearby, he seemed hesitant to leave you, you who were so quiet, so shut down. Sam hovered close by, his jaw clenched. Quiet at well. Not knowing what to say or do, You just stared at the floor till Bruce came in. 

“Give us some privacy Bucky? I need to give her a full examination.” Bruce said softly, and your eyes welled up with tears, hiding away from them both. Bucky shook his head in refusal. “I'm not leaving her alone.” 

“Okay, but on the other side of the curtain, if Y/N needs you, she will call you.” Bruce looked over at you to confirm that was okay, and you nodded, still unable to look at any of them. Your shame and fear pounding at you. Sam clasped Buckys forearm, nodding his head to the door. "We will just be on the other side." When Bucky stepped on the other side, you could see the worried look flashing across his face, somewhat in recgonition to your pain. Sam gave you a slight nod, and a smile of encouragement.

Why couldnt you be stronger? 

The start of your recovery was rough, locked in your room a lot. It took some time for you to open back up to the team. Bring a sense of normalcy to you again. Your normal for the past year has been to be tortured. Everyday life was a lot. Things so simple, like going to get a glass of water, took all your willpower to do. The team, they did everything they could to make it easier.  Natasha and Clint immediately made you a part of their movie nights. At first you would sit stiffly away from them, not wanting to be touched by anyone. But soon you loosened up. Curling up against Clint while his arm draped over you, your feet in Natasha’s lap while she painted your nails. “How are the nightmares Y/N?” Natasha would ask, and you could feel Clint tighten his arm around you slightly, listening. It was no secret, your nightmares were a nightly occurrence, often waking up screaming and trying to hide somewhere in the room. 

“They are fine, fewer and fewer every day.” You lied, covering your shame. 

Steve, you often went with Steve out for walks where he would find some subject to draw. You would lay in the sun, while your friend sketched away at some piece of nearby building, sometimes a landscape. Once he even did you while you were sitting a bit away, catching your profile watching the clouds above. Often you two would sit in easy silence, not needing to have long intense conversations, you were just happy to be with your friend. Once in a while you would ask him. “Steve, you think I can join the team soon?” 

The blonde man would hum, and his blue eyes would shift over towards you a moment before going back to his paper. “Y/N, don't rush it. You were there for a year. I'm not putting you in the field before you're ready. Here, what do you think?” He would flip his pad around and of course it was his way of saying, No. Not Now. Maybe not ever.

Sam often had you over to his apartment to help with meals. You figured it was to make sure you were eating properly. At least one square meal. When you asked him, he scoffed. "Actually taking these cooking classes, I make enough for two. Lets face it, your better company then I could ask for. Besides Steve and Bucky are not adventurous like you. They wanna boil everything." Sam snorted, stiring his jambalaya. "Chop this up." He said quickly, handing you a knife. You always felt safer with something, Sam noticed this the first time you joined him, and you flinched when he drew out a butchers blade. From then on, you were set on chopping duties. You began to really look forward to cooking nights with Sam.

"No girlfriends to have cooking dates with?" You would tease when you set to chopping and Sam would give you that grin of his.

"Sure, I just test them on you first Precious. Gotts make sure they are decent enough to feed to others."

"Yea, I'm real Precious if your using me as a gineau pig." You stick your tongue out st your friend, but secretly you don't mind.

Tony, he was more energetic. Often you would be sitting down in his workshop, laughing at his attempts to improve the Ironman suit. It became a habit to keep a fire extinguisher nearby. “Tony, I don't think you should try this.” You said warily as he put on his new thruster boots. “Aww come on, what's the worst that can happen?” He grinned, and winked. 

He ended up shooting around the room like a balloon just untied, crashing into walls and bouncing off the floor. When he finally came to a stop, his feet were on fire. 

Jumping down with the extinguisher, you yelled “Tony!” and covered him with the foam, once it ended and the billionaire blinked it away, swiping the foam off his face. 

“I had it under control Y/N.” 

“Sure you did.” You squirted him one last time to retaliate before putting it away, and holding your hand out to him, helping him up. 

“Payback Y/N, payback.” Tony glared before pulling you into a hug, getting you covered to. At first it was fine, until you didnt feel Tony anymore and you struggled. Tony immediately let go, and you covered your face in shame. “Im sorry, I'm so sorry Tony.” He shook his head and gently grasped your wrist just enough to uncover your face. “Y/N, it's okay to feel like that. I should have asked first.” You gave an apologetic smile and he winked. The good thing with Tony was that he moved on from your attacks like they never happened, and for that you were forever grateful to your friend.

Bucky, he was the only one that you would find wandering late at night, like you were. When everyone else was fast asleep, you would be pacing the tower, afraid of sleep. It would happen, eventually. Your body would give into its demands, and you would go under into your nightmares. But until that happened though, you found ways to distract yourself. Sometimes it was video games on mute, you would bake muffins for the teams breakfast, get lost in Tony's library he allowed you access to. It was in these wanderings you found Bucky, bumping into him in random places. 

Eventually you two started to really get to know each other. Your late nights would be spent together. You opened up more and more, talking about what Hydra and Brock did to you during that year, Bucky making similar confessions while you two sat outside, away from the confines of the building. Quite a few times you both watched the sun start to come up far off to the east, and Bucky's arm would settle over you while your head tipped onto his shoulder. 

“Buck, I don't know if I will ever just be okay. Steve doesn't seem to think so.” 

“Doll, I came back from it.” He simply said, and you looked up at him, giving a half smile. 

“Your stronger than me.” 

His brow arched as he looked down at you. “That's not true. I had help, Steve, Shuri. I could have never done it alone. Why I know you will come back from this. Your not alone.” 

It gave you something to think about the rest of that day. 

You were so tired after two days going, you couldn't help but pass out, exhausted. You fell into bed in your sleep shorts and a tank, curling up while the world faded away. 

The nightmares though, flashbacks of all those times you were helpless, unable to fight back and could do nothing more than hold back your screams. It never helped, they still fell from you till you were horse from it, rolling from your bed as visions of various doctors plagued you, Hydra Agents beating on you, and Brock he was always in the darkness, watching with anticipation. When he would finally step from the shadows, you knew it wasn't just a nightmare anymore. It was hell. It was what sent you hiding while you were still sleeping. 

This night the jarring motion falling from your bed woke you, before Brock could get to you. Covering your head, you sobbed into your knees, so completely at a loss of how to fix yourself. Your shoulders shook, and you huddled there on the floor for a moment till your legs and back started to ache from being hunched over. Sniffling, you grasp the side of your bed and pull yourself to sit on the edge, wiping the tears from your face. The room felt cold. Reminiscent of your time with Hydra. No warmth, dark shadows stretching like they were reaching to claim you, in which you withdraw your feet off the floor, trying to talk yourself through what you felt was another oncoming panic attack. You had to get out of there, there was no way you could sleep in here tonight. 

Grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders, you edge around your bed, trying not to let yourself get psyched out that Brock might be hiding in your room, he wasn't. He couldn't. It was impossible to break into Stark Towers, right? Into the living room you went, looking over your shoulder at what was your bedroom. Even your couch felt too close to the memories. 

It wasn't even a thought, you eased into the hallway and started down familiar doors. Steve, Natasha, Wanda… when you paused in front of one. It had no special markings, nothing to signify to any other that it was a special door, but for you it was. Hesitating for a second, you reached out and gave a quick rap of the knuckles, waiting. 

Bucky heard it, that quick knock knock. He never slept deeply, always aware of his surroundings, years of training and his own deep rooted fears that something was going to happen. When he opened his door to you, the blanket you had on you just about swallowed you, and your face peeked out, red rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. He knew you had been crying, were about to start crying as you were standing there. Bucky stepped back to let you in. 

“Sorry Bucky, I just… don't want to be in my apartment tonight.” Your head dropped as you stepped in, and he softly shut the door behind you. 

Standing there for a moment, you didn't know where to go from there, and he stepped in closer, encircling his arms around your cocooned blanket and you could feel the rush of a sob squeaking from you, pressing in against his t shirt. Bucky tucked you in close, feeling his own eyes prick with tears feeling you break in his arms, your shoulders shaking and even the blanket couldn't seem to keep you feeling safe now. But his arms did. They were strong and hard, encircling you. “Come on Doll, your exhausted I can feel it.” 

You didn't struggle as he led you down the small hallway to the back bedrooms, and  expected him to put you in a guest room that you knew all these apartments had. But he didn't. 

He brought you right into his room, and sat you on the edge of his bed. 

“Are you okay unwrapping from this?” He questioned, his hands resting on the blanket where you clutched it around you like a protective shield. You sniffled and dried your face on it momentarily before nodding, letting your grip go. He eased it off, and folded it. Resting at the end should you want it back. 

“Give me two seconds Doll.” He disappeared into his closet and with the door half shut, pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers, and switched out his tear wet shirt for a dry one. When he came back out, you were right where he left you, feet dangling over the edge of the bed, and your fingers clasped in your lap. When he came around and stretched out, half propped up on pillows, you looked over your shoulder at him. “Can you leave the light on Buck? Just a little bit?” 

“Of course Y/N. '' Reaching to the lamp, he turned it on a softer setting and saw you visibly relax your shoulders as you looked around, and could still see all the corners of the room. Pushing back to get in the bed, you tucked yourself in against your friend's side, letting your head fall to his shoulder. 

“They must have been pretty bad this time.” Bucky said as he lifted a blanket over the two of you, and you nodded. “I kept seeing Him in the dark, coming for me.” Bucky was well aware who you were talking about, having shared with him before some that had happened to you. You lifted Bucky's arm and placed it around your shoulder, his palm pressing against your arm and tucking you in closer, dropping the softest of kisses on top of your head. “Even when I was awake, it was like he was just out of sight, waiting for me to drop my guard.” 

“We won't let him get to you Doll, not again.” 

There was a soft shuffle of blankets as you got comfier against him, and your arm locked around his middle, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

“I know Buck, that's why I came to you.” 

[ficforce]

Gokai Part 2

Konro x Reader

SFW

Winter in Asakusa was much colder than in the city, perhaps because it wasn’t as crammed with tall buildings and it didn’t benefit from every home, business and car exuding heating as they turned up the thermostats. Asakusa actively tried to use as little as they could from Haijima and the rest of the Empire, they used generators to heat their homes and a more common-sense approach - putting on more layers was one of them. Many of the energy sources for the homes were struggling with the cold weather and the higher demand so Y/N found herself going out on more calls to repair or adjust them.

It had been nearly two months since she’d last spoken to Konro, she avoided him when she saw him in the street, still feeling the sting of humiliation from his rejection… for thinking he could like her in the same way. She still practised with her wooden sword and had found a new little clearing a bit further out from her home, though it wasn’t as fun as when Konro had been with her.

She knew she would have to face him sooner or later but as she stood outside the entrance of the Guardhouse, she wished it could have been later.

“Y/N!” The woman felt herself smile brightly as one of the twins greeted her as she toed off her boots, she couldn’t tell which one was Hikage and which one was Hinata, she hadn’t gotten to know them well enough yet. Luckily she didn’t have to make a guess as Y/N was pulled in by the sleeve and she had to half jog to keep pace with the little girl, “Everyone’s saying it’s cold - you’re gonna make them shut their faces, right?”

It still surprised her when the twins spoke so roughly, she knew they were being raised in the Guardhouse and their guardians were predominately Konro and Benimaru, but she didn’t think Konro had that bad of a mouth.

Why did she have to think about his mouth?

“Hikage!” Both of them stopped when a man’s voice reached them, Y/N straightened up and turned to see that Benimaru was on the opposite side of the room they were in, “The hell are you taking her? This isn’t playtime, Y/N’s got work to do.” He then mumbled under his breath about the girls being ‘damn brats today’ and she figured that they were learning their speech patterns from Benimaru.

“But, Waka!” Hikage stomped her foot and her sleeve flapped noisily as she waved her arm, “You said Me and Hina could play!”

Y/N saw the subtle way that the Captain’s chin tilted up, blatantly ready for an argument, and she quickly crouched down to Hikage’s level, “You said everyone was cold, right? It is pretty chilly in here, to be honest.”

“Really?” Her eyes narrowed at Y/N, searching her face for any sign of a lie.

“Don’t you get cold when you have ignition abilities?” Hikage shook her head at the question and sighed as she seemed to understand that perhaps it could be an issue for other people in the Guardhouse, she let go of Y/N’s hand so that she could follow after Benimaru to the generators. As they walked in silence, she wondered if Benimaru knew about her stupid move in kissing Konro, they were very close after all, and as she followed him toward the back of the large building Y/N began to feel a little anxious.

Benimaru slid open the doors to reveal two large generators, one had stopped completely and the other was making an odd ticking sound. “Not gonna lie, it’s been a while since either was serviced. Most of us are walking heaters so we don’t notice when it’s cold,” he wanted people to stop complaining that they were cold and he was a little worried about the older folk who stayed at the Guardhouse sometimes. “No point putting people up if it’s colder inside than outside…”

“That’s true.” Y/N walked around the ticking generator and sighed, “This one needs the fuel tank emptying out and a full service, It’ll take me a few hours on my own.” Her knuckles rapped on the metal, “This one, I don’t even know, so I’ll get the first one going before I even look at it.” It could take her a few days on her own, the challenge was going to keep her going mentally but the longer she stayed - the more likely she would bump into the Lieutenant.

The young Captain crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, “I’ll send someone down to help empty the tank out, we’re down a few men and Konro’s sick so I’m dealing with everything on my own. If you need anything you’re gonna have to ask someone else.”

Konro was sick?

Y/N bit her lip at the news, she wanted to ask for more details but it really wasn’t her business anymore, “Okay, that’s not a problem.” Benimaru looked at her for a long second, he appeared to be waiting for her to say something, once he seemed to realise there was no more the Captain gave her another nod and headed out.

The first generator had been disgusting inside, the old fuel had congealed and blocked some of the pipes, the ticking had been the thermostat struggling to work through the clogged pieces. Once she turned it off the whole place got cold pretty quickly. Her breath fogged as she worked and soon she had three or four of the Hikeshi join her, they helped clean and then refill the tank - they must have been cold to come and help out so fast.

She hadn’t seen him.

As the generator burst into life a cheer could be heard from further in the building when the heat began to circulate. Y/N grinned as she was pat on the back and she found herself being pulled toward the rec area, the least they thought she deserved was a warm drink.

During her work, snow had fallen outside, a thick layer of white covered the houses and streets. Y/N couldn’t put up much of a fight when she was advised to stay the night, they had spare rooms and clothing she could use and it wasn’t a problem for anyone there - her only anxiety was Konro.

After she had bathed and changed into a thick yukata she ate dinner with everyone else. She became Hinata and Hikage’s playmate until they decided that Benimaru was a better target, they were quite boisterous for such small girls. In the morning she would get to work on the second generator, with any luck she would be finished by the evening. “Y/N.”

Being pulled out of her thoughts she smiled, “Captain Shinmon?” The man sat beside her, his fingers pulling at the sticky spot in his hair from playing with the twins, they always seemed to be eating something sickly sweet. He made her nervous by association of Konro, did he know what she’d done? Did he have an opinion on it?

“Can you set up a small heater in one of the rooms? Everyone’s staying on the warmer side of the Guardhouse til the other generator is fixed but I don’t wanna move Kon right now, I don’t know how to set up the piece of crap.” He had tried already and failed, “He’s sleeping pretty hard so I don’t think he’ll even wake up.” Konro had been out like a light all day, a few times he had woken up but he wasn’t much use to anyone, Benimaru was concerned but he tried not to worry, Konro wasn’t a little kid and he wasn’t some vulnerable old man either. “You two don’t hang out anymore, huh?”

A small sound escaped her, something between a squeak and a cough, it was pointless trying to hide it as choking on her tea and Y/N let out a large sigh, “Has… Has he said something?”

“Nope,” Benimaru leaned back on his hands and stretched his neck side to side, he hadn’t stopped all day and now he was tired, “I just noticed he doesn’t take so long to come back in the mornings. I didn’t think anything of it but your reaction just now tells me that something happened…”

To her amazement, he had seemed to have nodded off for that brief moment. “Sorry, I was just a little anxious for you to ask.”

Y/N waited for him to ask, she sat tense with her breath held. Waiting…

But he didn’t continue and the woman looked up from her cup to watch him, his eyes were closed and he didn’t seem like he would continue, “Um, Captain?” Benimaru continued to be silent and she reached out to poke his arm - red eyes popped open and he inhaled sharply.

“Ask what?” He crossed his legs and reached for a cup.

Was he messing with her? Y/N could feel her face heating up as she seemed to be digging a hole for herself, “Why we don’t talk anymore.”

“You’re not even talking? Shit, something must have happened…” It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he just wasn’t the kind of person to get involved in other people’s business. Benimaru had learned so much from Konro growing up, he didn’t feel like he had anything to teach the man in respect of life experience. “You’ll set the heater up, though?”

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to interrogate her further.

She really missed him.

Never had setting up a simple heater been so hard. The woman felt as if everything was working against her, the door to Konro’s room had squealed slightly on the runner, she had stepped on every creaky floorboard under the tatami in the room and had even knocked over an extinguished lantern. Each time she looked at Konro he was sound asleep, his covers were up to his chin and someone had been in to place a cool cloth on his forehead. Silently as she could, she brought the heater closer to his sleeping form and turned it on, she had planned to leave right away but found herself wanting to linger.

Y/N had always thought that Konro looked tired most days, she assumed it was because he didn’t sleep well or worked too hard. It had never detracted from his looks and it didn’t seem to stop him from doing his day to day activities, only right now… he looked sick. There was no heat radiating off of him either. It had always comforted her when he stood close, his warmth and the calm he brought her.

— -

Y/N had fixed the second generator and life continued.

That brief moment in Konro’s room had been playing on her mind all week and one morning she picked up her practice sword and instead of going to the new clearing, she walked across the street to her old clearing, the tree was bare and as she approached it she paused. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Konro was there.

He was sat on one of the low walls, huddled in on himself and still looking a little worse for wear. After a moment of her standing there, he looked up from the snowy ground and seemed just as surprised as her. “Y/N?” Konro stood up and headed toward her - she couldn’t move, had he been coming all this time?

“Why?” Her wooden sword slipped from her fingers and landed silently in the snow, “I don’t understand why you’re still coming here, it’s been so long and… and you’re sick, you idiot! You shouldn’t be out here!” He didn’t stop in front of her as she expected, Konro reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders, his touch lacking its warmth still, Y/N went to him without any effort on his part. Konro was holding her close and she didn’t know why, didn’t care as the hands she missed rested on her and his scent reached her nose.

“You never let me explain.” He said quietly, he had been coming every morning since she had kissed him, he hadn’t wanted to embarrass her further by confronting her at her home or in the street, he had waited patiently and he felt that eventually, she would come back. “I wasn’t trying to reject you, Y/N, I was trying to give you fair warning.”

Y/N placed her hands on his chest and pushed gently away, not far enough to be out of his reach but enough to look at his face and show him just how confused his words were making her. Fair warning? What was there to warn her about, he was kind and handsome and he was obviously an idiot if he thought he had to talk her out of wanting to be with him.

All of a sudden the sound of a scream and a billow of dark smoke rose up into the air from one of the homes nearby. The man zeroed in on the exact home, the front door was open and he heard Y/N gasp as she covered her mouth, the sight of the person rolling on the ground in agony as flames erupted from their eyes and mouth, orange and red dancing on their skin and clothing, blackening them, eating them up until no one could tell they had been human.

The Lieutenant had no choice but to pull his coat hard enough forward that she lost her grip, he drew his sword and approached the poor soul that had combusted. The sound of yelling and the bell from the watchtower filled his ears, it would be best to do this quickly and kindly as possible.

Konro stood in front of her, blocking her from the sight and the danger of the new Infernal, “Get out of here, Y/N” He made to move forward but he was held back by her hands balling into his clothing and she pushed herself into his back, “…Y/N?”

A quick glance back made his heart squeeze in his chest, she was frozen to the spot, her eyes wide and frightened… She’d never seen an Infernal before, never heard it screaming and never smelt anything like it. Y/N was terrified and she couldn’t let go of him, couldn’t move her feet either.

It felt like her feet were glued to the floor, even with the danger all around her she couldn’t seem to get herself to move, Y/N tried to tell the Captain that, tried to tell him to get to Konro and that’s when she spotted another Infernal on a rooftop, it launched itself into the sky and knocked Benimaru off of his perch, sending them both crashing down. “Beni!” Konro’s call made her head whip back to the house where Konro was still fighting with the second Infernal, he was being overwhelmed and Y/N saw his sword had fallen a few feet away from him.

It was hard to tell what had happened from the time he made her let go of him to the time it took him to walk toward the Infernal. Y/N had watched it all unfold but wasn’t able to understand it, as Konro had subdued the Infernal, seconds from putting them to rest, another fiery creature had rushed out of the house and thrown itself onto the man.

The sky above her had lit up and she let out a terrified scream when a matoi embedded itself into the ground next to her, Benimaru’s voice drew her eyes upward, he was riding on another matoi and items around her began to ignite and rise, “You’re in the way, get out of here before you get burnt.”

The woman stumbled and fell into the snow on her first attempt to move, she was scared, she hadn’t been this scared ever in her life but she had to keep going. Forcing her legs under her, Y/N ran toward Konro with her eyes firmly on his sword.

Grabbing the hilt and adjusting her hold, comforted by the wear of his hands over the years and confident in all that he had taught her, Y/N took a deep breath and swung the sword toward the Infernal.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Bad Reputation

Scoop of the day is a writing challenge with a difference. Each fic is built from a set of (for the most part) randomly generated prompts and could be about just about anything, from breakups to smut to found family. Let’s enjoy some ice cream 🍦!

More info about the challenge here

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Rating: Explicit, Minors BE GONE

Warnings: Choking, mild-ish degradation, pretty much Reader-chan and Dabi calling each other names and fucking. Sometimes while fucking. Reader-chan is a smoker and they both have potty mouths

Flavour(s): Carob, Cake Batter

Prompt: 22, Ambivalence, 12, Invitation

You’re a potential recruit for the League of Villains, though not particularly convinced by their leader. Dabi makes you an offer you can’t refuse.

Reader-sama’s Villain name is Titania, for reasons I’m going into on a different fic in this challenge!

~~~~

“What a dive,” you muttered under your breath, taking in the flecked paint and boarded windows of the bar in front of you.

You pulled out your phone to double check the address your contact sent you, wondering if you’d misread it. 

You hadn’t, though, and took a couple of steps backwards with a tut.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

You pushed open the door and stepped into the bar, wrinkling your nose at the smell of stale alcohol and dust that permeated every corner. Several people had arrived before you, each sizing you up as you approached the bar.

Even among villains, you had a reputation and the ones in front of you were small fry. They parted like the red sea to give you space and you took a seat without giving them the time of day.

If this was the League of Villains.. well… 

You flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink, hoping that that at least wouldn’t be a waste of your time.

~~~~

In the end, you paid far more attention to the drink in your hand than anything Shigaraki said. He was a kid and almost certainly a dumbass and you weren’t in the mood to be anyone’s babysitter. The idea that he could change society was laughable.

You let yourself out through the back door about halfway through, bored beyond belief and pushing a cigarette between your lips. You reached into your pocket for a lighter, swearing under your breath when it refused to ignite.

“Y’know,” someone piped up, “those things are bad for you.”

You turned to the owner of the voice, ready with a sarcastic comment, only to fall silent when you saw who was standing there. 

Out of everyone at the gathering, he was the only one to make a lasting impression. He had burns on his face and searching eyes, which had wandered non-too-discreetly in your direction at the bar. He hadn’t been listening to Shigaraki’s speech either, choosing instead to lean against the wall at the back.

Despite his disapproving statement moments earlier, he held out his index finger, which burst into flame.

“I happen to like things that are bad for me,” you said, leaning over to light your cigarette and breathing a sigh of relief at the rush of nicotine. 

“You’re Titania.”

“You’re observant.”

“You’re not staying?” 

“Pfft, no,” you said, offended that he’d even asked. “Shigaraki has some good ideas but he’s not Stain. Boy’s an anglerfish. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out someone else is pulling the strings.”

“You know, I’ve heard a lot of things about you,” he said, extinguishing the flame on his finger. “I gotta say… you’re not what I expected.”

“Oh?”

“They never said you were a pussy.”

You stopped in place, unable to believe your ears.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

You had a bad reputation for a reason. If he knew your name, he definitely should have known better.

“You heard me,” he smirked. “You’re a pussy.”

You took another drag of your cigarette and dropped it to the floor, using the moment of distraction to drag a knife from your boot. You pushed him back against the wall and held it at his throat, standing so close that you could feel the warmth of his body.

“You don’t have any survival instincts, do you?” you said, teasing the blade edge against his skin. 

He grinned and held up his hands.

“Not in the slightest,” he said, grabbing your wrist before you could move and yanking you forwards. You stumbled, blade clattering to the floor and he threw you up against the wall with a strength you wouldn’t have guessed from his skinny frame, one hand on your neck and the other holding your wrist against the bricks.

“Then again, babydoll,” he said, voice rumbling next to your ear, “I also like things that are bad for me.”

You knew his type.

The smooth talkers. The fuckboys.

Unfortunately, you had a weakness for both.

He tightened his grip on your throat, cold eyes searching your face for a reaction. You smirked, heat pooling in your center.

Maybe this wasn’t such a waste of time, after all.

“Now who’s the pussy?” you croaked and it was all the invitation he needed.

He let go and pushed his lips against yours, biting and sucking at your bottom lip as you reached out to fiddle with his fly. He sighed in pleasure as you slipped a hand into his pants and squeezed his dick, running your thumb over the row of piercings he had along the shaft.

You dropped to your knees and yanked his pants down further, licking your lips as his dick bounced free. He was hard, veins bulging and precum dripping from the tip. You spat in your palm and wrapped your hand around him, squeezing your thumb against his piercings and earning sighs of pleasure. You ran your tongue over the studs, sucking at the sensitive skin there before taking him into your mouth. His knees buckled and he braced his hand against the wall, wrapping the fingers of his other hand in your hair and thrusting so hard that your head would have hit the bricks if he hadn’t been holding onto it. 

“Look at you, on your knees like a good little whore,” he said, thrusting so hard that it brought tears to your eyes. You refused to gag and that only seemed to encourage him, for he fucked your mouth deeper and harder, only falling still when someone opened the back door to the bar.

“Hey, Dabi,” they called, looking up in surprise at the sight of you. “I...oh.”

It was a member of the League; a Stain cosplayer with lizard scales. He took several steps back, eyes darting around the alley in an attempt to look at anything else. If looks could have killed, he would have been dead several times before he hit the ground.

“Um...I… um… I’m just gonna...”

He darted back into the bar as quickly as he’d left it, leaving the guy you were fucking (Dabi, presumably) to let go of your head and run his fingers through his hair.

Damn, he was such a pretty boy. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he sighed and you wrapped a hand around his cock, easing it out of your mouth and wiping the mixture of spit and precum from your lips.

“You never told me you were with the League,” you said, getting to your feet and unzipping your own pants.

“You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t care.”

He pushed you back into the wall, hands roaming your body. He grabbed at your breasts before reaching down into your pants, biting your neck as he pushed a finger inside you. Truthfully, you were more than ready for him, but the suddenness of it made you gasp.

He stepped back and yanked your pants down to your knees, turning you to face the wall. He pulled your arms behind your back and snaked his own around your waist, rubbing his hard dick against your folds and stroking frantic circles around your clit. 

The sudden overstimulation had you sucking in deep breaths, heat rising under your skin. 

“Too much for you?”

You couldn’t see his face but you just knew he was wearing a shit eating grin.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“So needy,” he said with a tut.

He took a step back and aligned himself, nudging his tip against your entrance and pushing in almost all of the way without any kind of warning. For a second everything went white; you cried out in both surprise and delight, the burn of being stretched so much so soon enough to send shivers up your spine.

How long had it been since you’d last gotten laid?

Weeks? Months?

He pulled out just as quickly and unapologetically as before, slamming back into you with such force that you saw stars. You felt every inch of him; every single one of the studs that decorated his shaft. You pushed back against him as he took another few thrusts, enjoying the occasional grunts you got from him as he hit a particular angle.

He let go of your arms and you pressed them against the wall between your face and the bricks, leaning right over as he gripped your waist. There was no time for small talk or teasing; you’d already been caught once and didn’t particularly want to be again.

Dabi squeezed your hips tightly and took up such a fast pace that you squeezed your nails into your palms and dug your teeth into your bottom lip, the pressure inside of you threatening to boil over.

“Harder,” you snarled, harder!”

He did. He fucked you so hard that it hurt at first and you whimpered in pleasure at the growing pressure inside of you. It was like there was a coil deep inside of you, tightening and tightening until it was too much to bear.

You cried out as it broke and left you in freefall, pushing your forehead to the wall and relishing how very cold it was, at complete odds to the heat of your bodies. Dabi dug his nails into you, letting out a moan as you fluttered around him.

Your knees buckled, aftershocks of pleasure growing into something more. He reached for your hair and yanked you back, reaching down to run his fingers over your clit and chasing his own pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear and, in truth, you didn’t disagree.

He bit your neck as you came undone a second time, digging his teeth in hard enough to draw blood. 

“Fuck,” he said, taking his hand away from your clit and reaching up to squeeze the nearest breast, “fuck that’s good. Fuck...”

“Don’t you fucking dare cum inside me,” you moaned, the venom in your voice replaced with desperation as he tweaked your nipple.

“Come here,” he said, turning you round and pushing your back to the wall. You dropped back down onto your knees and wrapped your lips around his cock, bobbing your head slowly and deeply until he grabbed your hair again.

He didn’t fuck your mouth this time, instead holding you in place as he came, flooding your mouth with his cum. 

He pulled his dick from your lips and loosened his grip on your hair, stroking along your jawline and pulling your head backwards to get a good look on your face, pushing his thumb over your lips to make sure you swallowed. You closed your eyes, trying to savour each drop.

You were both flushed from the effort and release, both dark eyed and shuddering. It was like you were floating, all former pretenses forgotten. Maybe that was why he stroked your hair; perhaps even why you let him.

The moment eventually passed. You were suddenly hyper aware of the filthy alley you were squatting in; the cool night air against your body and muffled voices in the bar behind you. He stretched out a hand and you took it, legs trembling as you stood up straight. Both of you fiddled with your flies, adjusting yourselves in an awkward silence.

“You should think about it,” he said.

“Think about what?”

“Joining.”

You frowned, thinking back to the shitty bar, shitty drinks and even shittier attempt at a leader.

“Give me one good reason,” you said, folding your arms.

“I’m sure you’ll find one,” he said with a smirk, turning to return to the bar.

You watched him go, admiring his swaggering gait as he stuffed his hands in his pockets; the way he shot you a side glance before going back inside.

You reached up to touch your lips, tingling from where he crushed them with his thumb.

“Motherfucker,” you hissed under your breath.

[darkhorse-javert]

Something Sunday:

I wanted to practice writing inside Wing Commander Turner, and this idea presented itself.

Preface; This is completely AU to canon and my current stories. So don’t worry on that score!

Some of it, circumstances, lines may be borrowed for a future story, in another AU timeline.

That being said, guys, I’m so sorry for writing this... You’ll probably need tissues. Tw: Character Death (of a sort)

Messenger

The police sargent knocks on the door, then opens it enough to pop his head round “Wing Commander Turner and another gentleman to see you Sir.”

There is a murmer of assent from the other side. The Sargent steps back and nods slightly to them, pushing the door open properly. He steps across the threshold, J behind his shoulder. It's easy to assess the room, out of habit DCS Foyle is rising from his desk to greet them. The young auburn-haired woman in khaki, Sam, turning towards him, intending to leave them alone, her hand rising automatically towards her brow in salute.

The very second her eyes come to his face he can see she knows why he's there. Of course she will, her father is a vicar, she'll have seen the sombre eyes which come with bad news many times before.

Her face drains of colour, her hand freezing in place halfway to her forehead, her lips moving to start forming an involuntary, soundless, 'No'.

He hates it. So different from the laughing, life filled face she'd had the last time he saw her, walking on her new husband's arm. Andrew's face, the almost disbelief and joy

As if from far away there's the click of the door as the Sargent has pulled it shut behind them, and the sound of DCS Foyle's automatic salutation

“Wing Commander.”

Shifting his attention he sees the recognition dawning on the other man's face, formality being replaced by emerging fear that he tries to conceal...and realisation.

“Mr Foyle, Mrs Foyle. I regret to inform you that Andrew went missing-in-action yesterday. He's believed killed.”

How many times has he used these ritual words? They are foul, bitter and ice-cold, burningly so on his tongue. He'd give anything to not have to say them, the last ones..., especially now, especially to these two people.

The absolute stricken agony in eyes and faces, the almost visible collapse of their world written there. Yet both are so carefully contained and restrained. Mrs Foyle still stands to attention, though her hand has dropped to her side.

“What happened?” Mr Foyle asks the obvious question in an almost inaudible voice that can't hide the pain

He steps back slightly, letting Johnson explain, the pilot's voice cracking it into fragments, not quite able to look at either Foyle or Mrs Foyle “We were raiding on the coast, Andrew's plane was hit, smoking badly, The last we saw the plane was going down into low cloud... No-one saw a 'chute.”

Johnson gulps, “we did get the Blighter that had him.” He braces himself to continue but He's interrupted

“Isn't there a chance he's made it home, come down at an airfield somewhere, a field? Andrew is a good pilot. Greville made it back” The desperate, elemental, hope in Samantha Foyle's voice, pressed forward by her brown eyes, frantically alight.

He shakes his head slowly, meets her eyes“I'm afraid not, I've spent the last Twenty-Four hours since he didn't come in ringing every airfield from Broadstairs to Plymouth. No-one has him, and there are no plane crash reports to match it either.”

A part of him wants to die as the desperate light extinguishes like a candle under a deluge of cold water at his words.  she manages a tiny nod of acknowledgement then her gaze drops, her eyes closing tight, breath heaved into her chest. But she holds her stance. It tears his heart. You poor, brave, brave girl. He can't look at her any-more. Mr Foyle just looks stricken, utterly broken inside, his eyes showing pain beyond tears. This the man who had calmly stood up to him, when Rex Talbot's girl had been found dead, leaving him feeling ashamed as he stated the facts, until he was permitted to go on with the investigation, prepared to treat his son as analytically as he did any investigation. This was the man who had softly challenged him when he'd come looking for an AWOL Andrew, the man he knows in his soul would have fought tooth-and-nail for his son, if he, Turner, had not denied a court-martial and understood what Andrew was going through.

Andrew was all he had, Turner isn't sure how he knows this, gossip, next-of-kin files.

Why? He demands of everything in the back of his mind Why did it have to be Andrew Foyle? He hates himself, wishes he could unsay every word that has come out of his mouth, wishes he wasn't here at all. And yet, he couldn't let them know through just a formal telegram and a condolence letter. Not when Andrew flew from Hastings Airfield, so close to his home. It was the right thing to do.

Johnson starts to speak again, managing, though his voice is both hollow and tense, but he's managing to look at the Foyle's now  “We all liked Andrew in the Squadron, he was a good man, very fun. Kind too. He'd come and just sit by you if things went bad, a nod, a hand on the shoulder. Rarely ever teased anyone too far, happier being a pilot than an officer in some ways, but he looked after us there too.”  A swallow and a croak “We'll miss him.” Then  Johnson was offering the wrapped parcel forward, eyes raw.

Turner speaks for the boy “His things... If there's anything missing send a message - we'll find it.” If  everyone has to remove every strut of cladding in his hut and the mess, they'll do it willingly.

After a moment,  Johnson sets it carefully on the chair in front of the desk

He swallows a lump rammed in his throat, takes the envelopes from his pocket and holds them out “His letters for you both.” Somehow this feels worse still, like the slamming of a coffin lid. As long as these letters are in his possession, death is only a possibility, to hand them over is a certainty. Andrew Foyle, that cheeky sod, who felt everything so deeply to heart behind his bravado, is gone.

Samantha Foyle's eyes move and she starts to shake ever so slightly, even as her jaw clenches. Mr Foyle woodenly walks around his desk to stand next to Samantha and takes the envelopes. His eyes are bleak as he raises them to Turner's own and his throat moves before he speaks

“Thank you, Wing Commander.” It's a dry rasp.

“I'm so very sorry.” His own voice is still steady, just.

Mr Foyle nods once, reaching out a hand to Samatha's arm. She shudders, then collects herself again.

Catching Johnson's gaze he jerks his head towards the door. The pilot opens the door slips quickly through and Turner closes it behind them firmly. Johnson's face is drawn, shocked, his own tears starting.

He carefully doesn't notice the last fact “You did well.”

Johnson sucks in a breath, nods and swallows. Muffled by the door, there is a soft squeaking, possibly a bottled up wail. Together they walk back down the corridor, through the doors into the main waiting room. Johnson heads for the door,

“Sir?” It's a soft voice. Turner stops and looks towards the desk. The uniform Sargent is there, but it's the other main, in a plain-clothes grey suit who has spoken, his eyes searching Turner's face, but with a knowledge of what he'll find there. This man has been to war too, perhaps he's had to deliver news too. something in his face shows it. His voice is low, and expectant already “Is it Andrew?”

He nods his head sharply “Yes.” And it's all he can manage.

But he sees the pain in both faces, the uniform Sargent's eyes filling before he turns away. The plain clothes one nods, a swallow. Andrew was known and liked here.

Dilly. It has no relevant bearing on the current situation, but he's suddenly desperate for her voice, her hand on his cheek,  where are you when I need you. Why aren't you here?

Johnson is waiting in the car, passenger side. The young man still looks awful, hollowed out. Turner makes a mental note to see he's bought a drink next time he has a leave-pass. Then he takes a breath “At least she didn't break down and cry...” It sounds like the pilot is bolstering himself.

Oh, Johnson...I'd rather she had. He'd take screaming, wailing, pleas to be wrong, stinging blows to his person over Samantha's quiet acceptance a thousand times.

The image of her laughing with Andrew Foyle hangs in front of his eyes, His hand stings suddenly and he realises he's slammed it against the steering wheel hard enough to bruise. He wants to scream... to fly the next sortie and take down every plane in the Luftwaffe.

There isn't the air in his lungs. He wishes he was on his own, or with Dilly, then he could give in to the tears in his chest.

Why, why the hell did it have to be Andrew? Of all of them, why Andrew Foyle?

[dredreadsdrawing]

Oc-Tober Day 16: Palette

my tablet annoys me but i continue to draw with it :,o oof. 

I used this Palette day for my other beloved DnD oc. Reir the bastard half-elf rogue from a prestigious elf-mafia lolol. Thank goodness I had already wrote her backstory in a word dock like, in February XD Augh writing one bigass story is enough for today. Here it is: 

Reir is a half-elf. She was born from the daughter of the biggest elf-run criminal organization, and a poor young farmer. Whilst on the run, her mother was injured and almost died, but Reir’s father found and saved her. They fell in love while she recovered, but she was picked up quickly by her brother and taken back to their city base.

She missed the farm and countryside, so she’d sneak to visit her love secretly for years. When her father and brother found out, they freaked. A lowly, much younger human was no worthy life-companion for their rose. After losing Reir’s grandmother, they became incredibly overprotective of her because of her, and this situation was no exception. They put her under house-arrest and threatened the farmer with violence.

After years of tolerating their suffocating doting, she couldn’t handle any more. She broke out and ran to him. He agreed to running away with her, to start over somewhere else. Things were going well along their travels, until they hit an impasse and were ambushed. Her love was killed in front of her eyes. She was taken back to be a bird in their cage, her will to fight now extinguished.

A month later, her pregnancy was diagnosed. Her brother was the only one to find out along with her, and before he could report it to his father, she pleaded to keep it a secret. She wanted to keep the child; she had a new reason to live. He gave in and helped her hide it from their father, unknowingly assisting her in her last attempt to escape as well.

She ran away again, planning to get her child away from their overbearing crime life, but she had waited for too long to put her plan into play. She started giving birth mid-way into her travel, stuck somewhere alone with no help for miles. By the time her family found her, her brother forced to tell his father the secret, she was dead, her child wrapped around her arms and kicking fussily.

Her father was in despair. He punished her brother severely, blaming him for her death, while also dropping the baby to be his responsibility. He refused her legitimacy. He had plans to expand their territory and claims, but died soon after the incident, rumors floating that he took his life from the grief. Now the brother was alone as the head of the family, stuck with a baby without a family name.

He planned to abandon her to an orphanage, thought there was no place for a child in his life. But her likeness to her mother outweighed her likeness to her father, and he couldn’t go through. He ended up dumping her to two of his subordinates; a half-orc and another half-elf. She was to live in seclusion at the top floor of their base.

He was an absent father figure to her. He’d visit rarely and briefly just to overlook her education. He saw the job of raising her as a lower priority, put his duties as the leader of the organization above all else. To quiet her every time she acted out of line, he would punish her the same way his father would his sister; he’d lock her in a quiet, dark room. Instead of taking the punishment meekly and learning to be good, she took it as a challenge and rebelled from everything he threw at her.

She grew picking up the worst habits. If she wanted something, she’d no longer ask for it. Stealing was easier and more fun. If she wanted to know what others were doing, she’d simply follow them; she trained herself to be quiet and stealthy. Because she was constantly thrown into the room, she learned to hide things in her clothing and body, to pick locks, to adjust to the darkness quickly and to climb from ledges half an inch thick. As a child, she was a nuisance. As a teenager, she was a menace. As a newly fledged adult, she was an outright criminal working outside of her uncle’s interests and solely for her own.

When she became of age, she thought he would finally induct her into the gang, but that day never came. He assured her she would never be a part of them and gave her a list of reasons why. She took it ‘in slide’; if he didn’t want her, it was his loss. She went crazy with her crimes, never thinking of the consequences, or of the mess she’d leave behind. She could always run back to the comfort of the organization’s name even when she wasn’t a part of it.

She was giving their business a bad reputation. If he couldn’t control his own brat, how could he keep his subordinates in check? Contacts began pulling back, the city law enforcement was asking for bigger bribes, everything was going to shit. Her uncle was done covering for her, and he gave her a final threat. He told her no more tricks, no more stunts, no more getting out of the house. She would be a good girl, or she would be disowned completely. He wasn’t playing around. She nodded along, but rationalized his anger as stemming from her debt. So she just needed to pay everything back huh? As soon as he left, she planned her biggest scam.

She stole millions from the mayor, not knowing he was already under the gang’s thumb. She stored the money in the organization’s vault, and proudly paraded her deed. She was called to her uncle’s office, and she prepared herself for her induction. She dressed in her finest, prepared a beaming smile. She opened the door, going into a speech about how it was finally time for her to make her grand entrance, but one look at her uncle’s face shut her up. She smiled awkwardly, trying to get a rise out of him. What, no hug? A high five? Her uncle raised his hand. Excited, she made to move towards him, but was immediately knocked out by henchmen behind her.

Without a word of farewell, she was shipped far away, dumped across the world with a two day stay at an inn, a dagger, and a bag of coins. She woke up confused and without even a note of explanation. She was alone, and cut off.

 Extra info:

The half-orc and half-elf truly love her and treat her like their daughter. Her difficult relationship with her uncle was the root of her bad behaviorism though, and they felt powerless as they watched her fall into more and more hopeless tries for his attention. When she was shipped, they were heartbroken. They were never told of her final threat or how it happened, they were simply fired from their job as ‘nannies’, and reinstated in grunt work. They hold a grudge against her uncle and fully plan on escaping the organization to look for her.

To further explain her bad behavior from her uncle’s perspective: Her mother was a model-obedient girl type. She was an angel who always did what she was told (until she fell in love.) She had been kind, patient, and loving; the perfect sister and the perfect woman in her uncle’s eyes. Her daughter though, was the worst. She was a brat, rebellious, selfish, overconfident, and had zero regard for others.

Her nannies could see where all of these negative properties stemmed from as she grew. She became rebellious as a form of getting his attention, she’s self-centered because she was never taught to work in a team and never even had any friends, and she’s overconfident because she’s learned a lot from what she considers the best criminals. However, her uncle never spent much time with her at all. He never truly got to know her, and never had one on one conversations with her about herself. He was only ever around long enough to see the bad, never stuck around to figure out the good.

She was extremely caring towards her two father figures, the half-orc and half-elf. She’s clever and an extremely quick-learner; gifted in everything she put her mind to. She was determined to the point of being naïve; she always believed even when she pretended she didn’t need it, that her uncle would open up and accept her one day if she did a job big enough. She’s also super optimistic. She never lets anyone or anything bring her down, and has never let herself get depressed. She’s smart enough to get through anything; her overconfidence always shone through.

I’m uh, making some quick stuff for oc-tober lol. im sooooooooo behind :,o but i managed to get semi-caught up..... tomorrow ill have to do today’s theme lol Im jsut abit too depressed today :(

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

It’s Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus - Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Word Count: 1,932 Synopsis: Happy Halloween! After hearing about the legend of the Sanderson Sisters in class, the reader convinces Peter to go out to the house where the movie was filmed to see what kind of spooky things they can find.

“Please! It’s just a fairytale. The Sanderson Sisters are not real.”

“Not real like Spider-Man isn’t real?” you asked.

“Spider-Man is real,” he said, smirking at you, “He’s just anonymous.”

“Maybe the Sanderson Sisters are, too,” you said, walking away from him. Before you could let go of his hand, Peter held on twice as tight and spun you back towards him. 

“Have a good class,” he said.

“You too.” You kissed him softly before walking away to your classroom. 

Halloween had to be Peter’s least favorite holiday. Before he became Spider-Man, it was one of his absolute favorites. He waited all year to dress up as his favorite superheroes and eat a ton of candy with Ned until he was sick. But now that he dressed up on a regular basis, he didn’t care for the holiday as much. And in New York, Halloween just meant that every clown was out to cause some mayhem. 

You had been asking him all week to do something spooky-fun to celebrate, but everything you suggested, he shot down. As you sat through your chemistry lecture, your mind drifted through possible ideas that you hadn’t yet suggested to Peter. 

“Y/N, wasn’t that story about the Sanderson sisters crazy?” Betty whispered. “I can’t believe anyone actually believes that story.”

“Hey, it could be real,” you said, giving her a smile. She laughed and shook her head.

“You sound like one of those die-hard fans, the ones who sneak up to the old house where the movies were filmed every Halloween to see if the legends are really true.”

“Wait, the house is still standing?” you asked, a little too loudly. Your professor shot you a look and you quickly turned back to your notes.

“Yes,” Betty said after the professor had averted her eyes. “It’s out of the city.”

“Hmm,” you said, quickly scribbling down Sanderson House on your notes. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Pete!” you called, squeezing his arm as you came up behind him.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, “Ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Did you figure out the perfect Halloween plan for us yet?” he asked, taking your hand in his. 

“Yes, but we’ll have to do some driving to get there.”

“Okay,” Peter said, somewhat reluctantly. “Where are we going?”

“The Sanderson Sister house.” Peter stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you deadpanned. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said.

“I’m not! Come on, it’ll be just like a field trip. We’re just going to check out a historical sight, and maybe get a little spooked along the way.”

“And raise the spirits of the Sanderson Sisters while we’re at it?” he asked.

“Maybe! Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll drive?” you offered with a sweet smile. Peter glared at you, but your stare was as iron-clad. You wouldn’t back down about this that easily. 

“Fine,” he said with a groan. “But we’re stopping for candy on the way.”

“I’m good with that,” you said, pulling him in to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

An hour later, you and Peter were crawling into Aunt May’s Volkswagon Beetle, stocked with three different bags of candy. You queued up your spooky playlist on Spotify and looked over at Peter.

“I still think we should have dressed up.”

“I’m not going as Spider-Man for Halloween!” Peter exclaimed, exasperated. 

“Come on, everyone is going as Spider-Man. Besides, yours definitely would have been the best.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next year,” he said, smirking slightly. “What were you even going to go as?”

“Princess Leia.”

“Obviously.” 

You snorted as you turned up the music so that Monster Mash was blasting through the tiny car. The Sanderson House was an hour and a half away, which meant that you had lots of time to fill with spooky music and stories. 

“Do you think we’ll see them?” you asked, once you were twenty minutes away. You had finally gotten off the highway and were now traveling down winding side roads, lit only by a porch light every couple of miles. 

“Who?”

“The Sanderson Sisters!”

“Y/N, they are not real.”

“If you tell me that one more time, I’m going to leave you at the spooky old house by yourself.” Peter sighed and looked over at you sweetly.

“Okay, you’re right, I’m being kind of a tool. But realistically, the witches have been dead for hundreds of years. We are probably not going to see them.”

“Probably,” you said with a grin, taking a bite of twizzler. “At least we’re out of the city, though.”

“True, and I’m with you.” He leaned across the divider and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“You can be as charming as you want to be, we’re still going to this house.”

In another ten minutes, you were at the rickety old sign that identified the Sanderson House. Even if the sign weren’t there, you were pretty positive you would have been able to spot the house among the others. Unlike the others, this one was cloaked in darkness and had no modern features. 

Up a winding driveway, you could barely spot the house from the road, but there was an eery air that hung over the place. There was a fence blocking you from entering the house. Peter gave you a somewhat worried look as you turned the car off and got out.

“Y/N, we’re very clearly not supposed to be here.” 

“Oh come on,” you said, pushing lightly on the fence which swung open with ease. “If they didn’t want us here, they would make it much harder to get in.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What are you gonna do, web me up?” you asked. Peter couldn’t help but smile at you as he reluctantly crawled back into the car with you. As you both sat down, you turned the engine key. Your car chugged weakly for a few moments. Eventually, it didn’t even turn over.

“Well,” you said, frowning at Peter.

“We should go back.”

“The car’s not starting.”

“Then we’ll wait for a tow,” Peter said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You started to climb out of the car but Peter grabbed your wrist. “Where are you going?”

“Well, as long as we’re here, we might as well go in.”

“That sounds like a worse idea than driving all the way out here.” Peter rolled his eyes as you shook free of his grasp and climbed out of the car. He was determined to prove his point and stick it out in the car, but as he saw you walking alone up the dark driveway, he hung up the phone and ran after you.

“Oh, look who it is,” you said, glancing over at him as you turned on the flashlight on your phone.

“I thought maybe I should be here to protect you.”

“From what? Spiders?” you asked as you stepped onto the creaky porch. Cobwebs covered the railing and the entry door. One of the windows was smashed open, and as you peered inside, you could see the remains of the old home. 

“Alright, so we saw it. Can we go?” Peter asked nervously.

“No, I want to go inside. I want to see the book!”

“Y/N, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Hush and help me get this door open,” you said, jimmying the handle. Peter rolled his eyes and quickly shot out a web. He ripped the door open with one quick motion and watched it smack into the already shattered window. A few more pieces of glass fell around your feet.

“Great, thanks,” you said, giving his shoulder a squeeze as you walked into the house. “Oh my god.”

“What? What? What is it?” Peter asked, walking into the room nervously. 

“Nothing,” you said, smiling at him, “It’s just exactly as I pictured it. It’s so decrepit.” 

“Why are you enjoying this?” Peter asked under his breath, looking around himself carefully. 

“Oh my god, Peter!”

“What!” he yelled, running to your side.

“It’s the candle.”

“The what?”

“The black flame candle. You know, the one that can summon the witches back when lit.”

“Come on,” Peter said with a laugh, “You know that’s just part of the fairytale.”

“Okay,” you said, reaching into your back pocket and retrieving a lighter, “So light it.”

“What?”

“Light the candle,” you challenged.

“I’m not gonna light that stupid thing.”

“Why? Scared?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. 

“No.”

“So do it.”

“Fine,” Peter said, taking the lighter from your hand. You watched him carefully as he raised the lighter with a shaky hand to the antique candle. With a flick of his thumb, the match lit up and soon, the candle did, too. You and Peter stared at each other, waiting for something to happen. 

“See, it’s not so scary he-”

The front door slammed shut, and the gust of wind extinguished the candle. You and Peter both let out a scream as you scrambled towards each other. He wrapped you in his strong arms, shielding you from whatever was going to come through that door. 

After about five minutes of holding each other and praying that your death would be quick, you pulled apart. You turned your flashlight back on and looked around the room. Nothing had changed. The dark room was just as sad as it was before and completely devoid of witches.

“So, let’s go home?” Peter asked, taking one step towards the door.

“Yes, absolutely,” you said, quickly taking his hand and running out the door. The two of you ran in step together towards the car, not sparing a look back at the spooky house. 

You got back into the car and turned the key. By some trick of fate, the car started up. Without a second glance back at the house, you drove off, Peter’s hand in yours the entire time. 

It wasn’t until you got back onto the highway that you let out a sigh and released Peter’s hand.

“No more spooky Halloween plans,” you said.

“I’m good with that.”

“Want to go home and snuggle and watch a movie?”

“Yes,” he said, taking your hand back in his. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Got any more Reese’s?” you asked, leaning over Peter’s body to look through his bag of candy.

“Hey, keep to your own bag.”

“Come on, we split the bags, but I’m pretty sure you got more Reese’s than me!” Peter struggled to pull the bag of candy from you and had practically wrestled it out of your hand when your TV shouted, “A virgin lit the candle!” You and Peter both looked at each other and fell back onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

“I think I like this Halloween much better,” you said, cuddling into his arms.

“Me too.” He leaned down and kissed you just as the Sanderson Sisters burst into the house you had been in not two hours ago.

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

Cigarettes and Regret PT 2. (Nikki X Reader)

As always, I am sensitive baby and yet I crave validation. So tell me what you think but please be nice. I’ve never really written smut until recently so I’m working on it. Also thank you for even reading this.

Warnings: Alcohol use, drug use, and SMUTTTT (it’s motley y’all)

Nikki and Tommy were different and yet exactly the same, if Tommy was a BB gun then Nikki was a glock. Tommy loved you, but didn’t really respect you as a girlfriend (as much as he respected you as a person); but Nikki could never love you and yet there was such a level as respect there it almost caught you off guard. Tommy was soft and caressing in bed with you and would touch you so gently you could cry then would up and leave you in bed alone or roll over to sleep. Nikki was dominating, rough, and needy in bed and would cause mild bodily harm (not that you complained) then would hold you to him while you talked about anything. They were the same personality though, they weren’t called the Terror Twins for nothing, and unfortunately they were both possessive. 

You learned that the hard way when Nikki particularly had enough of your rubbing Tommy in his face. To be fair he had started it with a groupie and you were just returning the favor, but he didn’t like it despite having no right to be possessive of you. It had started in the green room at The Whiskey before one of their shows and continued to the afterparty at the dingey apartment. Motley was starting to sell out shows more and more and with that came bigger parties, more (better) drugs, and lots of groupies. You were sitting in Tommy’s lap in the green room before their show and he was placing kisses along your neck telling you something, but it was hard to concentrate with Nikki’s death glare through the mirror reflection. 

“(Y/N), did you hear me?” Tommy asked lightly biting your shoulder catching your attention again.

“I’m sorry babe I got distracted, what were you saying?” You responded breaking your eye contact with Nikki to look at Tommy

“I was just saying how much I love you and that I’m grateful you have been here this whole time. Once we make it big I’m gonna make sure we have the wedding of your dreams” He smiled up at you rubbing your thigh. You choked on the whiskey you had been trying to take a sip of and it burned your nose causing some tears and a lot of coughing.

“WEDDING?!” You and Nikki said in unison looking at Tommy like he had three heads.

“Well yeah (y/n), you’re my girl and you’ve always been loyal to me and I can’t imagine my life with anyone else.” He acted as if the decision was already set in stone.

“Babe we...we haven’t even talked about this before” You suddenly felt very warm and uneasy “There isn’t any reason to get married.”

“Come on babe we’ve been dating forever okay, it’s sweet, it’s tradition, and my mom already loves you” He waved in the air as if to say it was settled and you felt your stomach fall into your calves.

Nikki suddenly pushed up from the table in front of the mirror and mumbled something about needing blow and his dick sucked. Now your stomach was really on the floor. He came back with a groupie in tow that was chomping her gum and gripping his arm like he was her life line. She pulled the small baggie of blow out of her..well not bra because you didn’t think she was wearing one under the tight leather top. Nikki grinned venomous, deadly right at you before snorting some off her tit and motioning for Vince to follow suit. She seemed to be pleased as punch and turned her attention to Tommy.

“You want to get in on this drummer?” She was bold. You were right there.

“Actually I have him covered” You snapped “And unless your plastic surgeon gave you a third boob somewhere I’d say you’re covered too”

“Doesn’t look like you have anything besides your whole body covered, nun” The groupie snapped back and you heard Nikki chuckle under his breath. Oh if looks could kill your glare would’ve vaporized him on the spot. Fine. Two could play this game.

“Tommy hand me your blow” You instructed and lifted your t-shirt (one of their shirts you had pitched in on getting made) off showing a thin black lacy bra that left nothing to the imagination. You poured a tiny bit of coke in the divot between your neck and collar bone and waited.

Tommy hesitated “Uh babe-”

“Well if you don’t want to do it maybe Sixx does” You cut him off flicking your gaze to Nikki who was smirking and about to come over making the groupie scoff.

“No” Tommy growled and did the bump out of the crevice you had placed it then swiped his tongue out to catch the remnants. You let out a soft breathy moan intentionally and caught his face in one of your hands and kissed him deeply. You allowed him to kiss you deeper and grope you a tiny bit in front of the boys. You pulled back and smiled at him as he met you with a big dopey smile of his own.

“See how could I not want to marry you babe. You’re so good to me” Tommy leaned his forehead against yours.

You felt immensely guilty because while you knew Tommy would enjoy what you did, you didn’t do it for him. It wasn’t long before they were called on stage and you made your way to the side to watch them play. Side stage was your favorite place to be for their shows because you could feel the bass in your chest and maybe because you had an unblocked view of the bass player from there. Nikki was being more aggressive with his bass than usual, hitting it more, swinging it around more, hell he was even rolling around on the stage more. It was kind of hot. When they finished the show with lighting Nikki on fire, as per usual, you saw him direct Mick to spray him with more alcohol and you were afraid they’d never get him put out for half a second before the flames were extinguished.

You walked back to the house with the boys hand in hand with Tommy making small talk with everyone but Nikki who was trying to take home the award for multitasking by making out with the groupie and walking at the same time. To say you were annoyed would be an understatement at this point. You didn’t know why he was punishing you like you had done something wrong. It made your heart hurt a little bit to know he would intentionally hurt you because of something Tommy said. You made your way through the window and immediately grabbed your tequila you had stashed in the kitchen for when you really needed to shut off and let loose.

“Damn (y/n)” Vince laughed climbing through the window seeing you with the bottle to your lips “Drinking to forget tonight or something?”

“More like drinking to celebrate a kick ass show” You lied with a big smile

“Think you’ll explore the wild side with us again?” He waggled his eyebrows at you while preparing lines on the counter

“(Y/N) doesn’t like coke remember” Tommy said getting ready to do a line

“She’s a changed woman T-Bone. She did it with me the other night” Nikki broke away from the groupie long enough to say.

“Wait what?” Tommy seemed almost hurt by the fact she did drugs with his best friend. It almost made her forget he had been cheating on her during that moment.

“Well you were apparently busy or something I couldn’t find you” You shrugged “I’ll do it with you tonight if you want me to babe.” You hoped you sounded innocent enough. Tommy’s infidelity was a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation.

“Oh uh yeah I was trashed I think I passed out somewhere” He really was a terrible liar.

“So you gonna do it?” Vince asked excitedly.

“Yeah I’ll do it again” You agreed and took a line off the counter shortly after the rest of the boys (minus mick) took their lines.

You were trashed. Beyond trashed actually. You had lost track of Tommy a long time ago and it seemed Nikki had lost track of his groupie so if you had to guess the two were probably together. Gross. You went out of the window to smoke a cigarette and get fresh air, you might have overdone it with the tequila and coke and were starting to feel overwhelmed. It didn’t take long for Nikki to follow you out there and suddenly you were very aware of the parallels to the last time you were at one of their parties.

“Are you gonna marry him?” Nikki asked angrily. You couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corner of your lips and you wanted to make him squirm a little bit.

“Maybe. I think a rockstar husband would be a very good look for me, don’t you think?” You were challenging him.

“Yeah your name in papers all the time detailing how often your husband cheats sounds like a great life” He snapped lighting his own cigarette.

“Why do you care? It’s not like it affects you.” You were frustrated. Both of these guys you wanted didn’t want you completely. Why were you even wasting your time?

“Because I don’t think you should lower yourself to that position.” He was facing you, but you couldn’t look at him. Not right now. It was too intense.

“Oh what should I just stick around for you to fuck when groupies become too boring for you Sixx?” You suddenly whipped around to face him in your anger.

“Groupies always bore me.” He was smirking. What was so funny to him?

“Well this conversation is boring me. I’m gonna go fuck a random, you should do the same Sixx” You stubbed our your cigarette and made your way to the window. Your back suddenly came in contact with the wall.

“Why are you testing my patience (y/n)?” Nikki whispered into your ear. You shuddered from his breath ghosting against your ear.

“I don’t know what your mean” You feigned innocence.

“You have been antagonizing me since before the show and you fucking know it” Nikki growled.

“You got a groupie” You pouted.

“You are basically engaged to my best friend” He chuckled out darkly.

“And yet.” You looked up into his eyes and smirked.

“And yet.” He repeated and closed the distance between you.

Your mind was a whirlwind at the moment and you hated to admit you loved it. Nikki had you pinned against his wall with your hands above you while he littered your neck with hickies. You wouldn’t be able to explain those away and you knew Tommy would know what those are, but how could you care when Nikki was grinding his hips into yours? He released your hands and croached down lifting up your denim skirt slightly to pull your matching underwear down to your ankles then off and pushing your legs apart. He grabbed your ass and pulled you towards his face and he began licking your clit. You were whimpering and pulling his hair as he hummed against you never ceasing his licking. You felt yourself becoming close and your moans became more desperate and then he stopped and stepped away.

“Clothes off now and lay on the bed” He demanded and you obeyed watching as he slowly removed his own clothing before positioning himself between your legs. He leaned down and kissed you hard then grabbed your legs and put them on his shoulders. 

“I don’t like to share (y/n). I don’t like to be antagonized. I don’t like not being in control. I’m going to make sure you remember all of this” He said right before he pushed his entire length into you. He didn’t waste time allowing you to adjust. He just thrust into you hard and fast. You were making high pitched noises and digging your nails into his shoulders and it only encouraged him. He moved one of your legs to wrap around his waist and put one of his hands on your throat.

“Fuck baby you feel so good” He groaned throwing his head back. His thrusts were getting sloppy so you knew he was close and you were getting close too. You felt the familiar sensation starting to build and you threw your head back, his name a prayer falling from your lips and he followed you shortly after.

Just like last time he pulled you to him and kissed you lazily trying to regain his normal breathing rate. You felt safe and warm and if you were naive, loved.

“Don’t marry him” Nikki whispered into the still air around you both.

“I never planned on it” You whispered back and you felt his arms tighten around you. You didn’t know what this meant and you didn’t understand Nikki; but at that moment, as sleep took over your body, you couldn’t give a fuck less.

[lalunaunita]

Lucky Shot - a Shieldshock fan fic

It’s FANDOM FRIDAY! 

You know what that means.

Here’s something I’ve been working on for a while. This is my first Shieldshock fic, so please read and comment. More chapters are on the way!

Read on Ao3.

Rated Teen for bad language. Marvel Cinematic Universe, Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, Shieldshock

Many thanks to @livvynicklaus for betaing this chapter!

Chapter 1: Missing the Mark

The punch connected just as Steve stepped out of the elevator, a ringing in his ears replacing the polite chime of the compartment. Instinct took over and he leaned back, dodging the next swing his opponent threw at him. He blinked, his brain catching up to the danger his body already recognized.

The guy who’d hit Steve was enormous. In full tactical gear, a helmet and mask concealed his entire face. He hulked menacingly just outside the elevator doors, crowding the small exit. Steve crouched and came up under the man’s guard. He launched a strike of his own, pivoting his hips as he aimed for the man’s kevlar vest. The force of his punch pushed his assailant back from the elevator. As the man staggered, Steve slipped past into the broad, brightly lit hallway of the third floor research department at the New Avengers Facility. The man growled and turned to face Steve, rubbing his chest. Just then, the fire alarm went off. Its shrieking siren and blinking red lights gave the man pause, but Steve didn’t look away as he set his feet and raised his fists.

“You wanna keep going, big guy?” he challenged.

The man responded by launching himself at Steve, driving him back toward the wall of windows at the end of the hallway. Steve felt the air leave his lungs as he hit the windows with a loud smack. He interlaced his fingers and brought them down on top of the man’s head, but the helmet blunted the impact. Steve heard a tell-tale scritch of cracking glass behind him. God, this guy was huge.

“Hey, asswipe!” shouted an unfamiliar voice.

A red fire extinguisher clouted Steve’s assailant over the ear, knocking him sideways. The glass let go at the same moment with a tinkling crash that exploded outward. Steve hovered dubiously in the open air, his toes curling in his shoes as he felt his balance slip. Then a hand gripped the center of his t-shirt and pulled him back to the safety of the third floor.

“You alright, Cap?” asked Darcy Lewis, Dr. Foster’s research assistant. She still held the heavy extinguisher with one hand, apparently ready to dish out more blunt force trauma.

“I am now,” Steve replied. “Thanks for the save, Miss Lewis.”

A mischievous grin split Darcy’s bright red lips. “Let’s get one thing straight, Cap. I am not, nor will I ever be, Miss Lewis. Just call me Darcy. And can you tell me what the hell’s going on out here?”

Steve followed the track of her waving hand, focusing on a stairwell door at the other end of the hall as it disgorged two more men in black. They were outfitted exactly like his first opponent. The pair caught sight of Darcy and Steve standing over their compatriot.

“Oh, shit,” Darcy said, eyes wide.

Steve heard the crackle of their radios as one leaned his head to the side.

“Target sighted,” the man reported softly. They came forward cautiously on silent feet and slowly raised their weapons. Steve glanced to the left, where Darcy’s victim lay on the ground, still dazed. Beyond him, a stairwell.

“Darcy, run,” Steve urged, his voice low.

She didn’t need to be told twice. Dropping the extinguisher on top of the first man, she turned and took off. Steve was right on her heels, crossing the six feet of space faster than the two men could pull their triggers. He pulled the door open, covering Darcy with his broad back as the pair of them spilled onto a narrow concrete landing. Steve heard the patter of bullets impacting the walls behind them and they ducked as the door latched shut. Steve grabbed Darcy’s hand when she descended the first step.

“We’ve got to go up. I need my shield,” Steve told her. Darcy shook her head furiously.

“Up is where they go in horror movies, Cap. Never go up,” she protested.

“No time to argue,” Steve responded.

He yanked her by one arm and tossed her over his shoulder, then climbed onto the waist-high metal railing.

“Cap… Cap, what are you do-ahhh!” Darcy screamed as Steve leapt from one landing to the next, turned, then sprang up one more, holding her tightly around the waist as he did so. Darcy kicked her feet and pounded tiny fists into Steve’s back as he came down from the railing onto the fifth floor landing.

“Not cool, Cap. Not cool!”

They could hear the door burst open two floors below. Shouts echoed around the concrete walls. Steve fumbled for his ID card and pressed it to a reader for the fifth floor and they were in the hall before their pursuers could glimpse them. He deposited Darcy on shaky legs as the door clicked shut.

Darcy punched Steve on the bicep, then muttered as she gripped her own fist and shook it out. “Ow. What the fuck, Cap? You gotta warn a girl first.”

“Sorry,” Steve apologized, taking her hand again and starting off down the hall. “That should hold them for a minute. The door’s reinforced and they can’t get in without a code.”

“Well, how’d they get onto the third floor, then?”

Steve frowned and picked up his pace, Darcy trailing after him.

“They’re after me, so you’ll be safe in my room once I get my shield and get in touch with Maria, or Nat.”

Darcy grimaced as she looked up at him. “They want you, but I’ll be safe at your place?”

“I’ll make it real obvious I’m not there.”

Steve swiped the card once more and let them into his apartment. He glanced around briefly, then flipped up several light switches. Darcy followed, curious.

“Sooo… do you keep it in like, a special china cabinet, or a coat closet, or…” Darcy stopped at the edge of the entry tile and watched as Steve lifted the bottom edge of an overlarge plasma TV he rarely used. It swung upward to reveal a square safe about three feet wide set into the wall.

“Yeah, that makes a lot more sense,” Darcy nodded as Steve tapped in his code and placed his eye to an optical scanner.

The safe opened with a hiss. Steve gripped the edge of his disc-shaped vibranium shield with one hand and took out an earwig with the other. He settled the earwig in his ear and opened a secure channel.

“Anyone out there? Maria? Vision?”

“Mondays, am I right?” replied Sam Wilson, the Falcon. “You okay, Cap?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, fine. Engaged three hostiles on the third floor. Had some help incapacitating one of them.”

He grinned at Darcy, who gave a thumbs up and a ‘tell him it was me!’ gesture.

“What’s the angle?”

“I’m not completely sure. They’re targeting me for some reason. I was thinking of finding out why. Hang on a minute.” Steve secured his shield on his arm and turned back to Darcy. “You can make yourself at home. Take a breath. You’re a civilian, so I need to you shelter in place until the Avengers give the all clear. Do you understand?”

“Cool. Can I raid your fridge?” Darcy’s flippant answer as she flounced over to his couch and kicked off her shoes made him blink.

“Uh, yeah. Not much on offer, but whatever’s in there is yours. You sure you’re alright?”

He closed the safe and lowered the TV, eyes on the young woman who was now pulling her feet up under her legs and searching for his remote control.

“Look, Cap, this isn’t my first rodeo. Jane may have been under the impression that this was a quiet place to do research, but I had money on an invasion by aliens or terrorists within the first two weeks.” Darcy frowned, pulling at her bottom lip. “I was wrong, though. It’s been a whole five months since we moved in.”

Steve grinned again and shook his head. Darcy Lewis wasn’t quite what he’d expected.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, Miss Lewis, but I need to go clean up the latest invasion. I’ll check back with you after. Please don’t leave until I come get you, okay?”

“Oh my God, Cap, it’s Darcy.”

“In that case, quit calling me Cap. Steve is fine.”

Steve walked over to his windows as Darcy turned on the TV. He pushed the blinds aside with two fingers and looked down. He had a grand view of the front parking lot from his apartment; Tony’s idea of a joke, but Steve didn’t mind. He stared thoughtfully at an unfamiliar black van, about the size of a surveillance vehicle, parked surreptitiously at the edge of the lot. He pressed his earwig.

“Sam, you got time for a pick up? Fifth floor, my apartment.”

“Sure,” came the reply. “I’ll be there in thirty seconds.”

“I’m gonna go now,” Steve said to Darcy, sliding the window open. He seated himself easily on the thick ledge, swung his legs over and stood. A light breeze ruffled his hair as he watched for Sam.

Darcy barely looked up from the television. “Later, strange superhuman man who doesn’t use doors…” her voice trailed off in the distance as Steve jumped neatly off the window ledge.

A rush of air filled his ears and Sam gripped Steve’s outstretched arm firmly, wings straining to lift them both.

“Where we going?” he shouted over the buffeting wind that pressed against both men.

Steve pointed his shield at the black van. “Drop me there!”

Sam brought them in at an angle, using their shared momentum to propel Steve feet first through the passenger side window. His booted feet shattered the glass and drove right into the jaw of a very surprised driver. The man slumped, unconscious. Steve righted himself, holding the edge of the busted windowpane, then crouched and glanced around. No one came running from outside; no one came forward from the rear of the truck.

“I think this might be a pretty small outfit, whoever they are. They only left one guy to guard the getaway,” Steve reported into his comm.

“Tiny, but fierce. Got a couple of hostiles over by the Quinjet that have me pinned down,” replied Natasha Romanov.

“Need help?” Sam replied.

“I wouldn’t say no. I’ll lead them outside.”

Steve let their voices fade into the background as he stood back up and yanked open the locked door that separated the cabin from the rear of the truck. As he’d suspected, there was unmanned surveillance equipment set into one side and gear and gun cages on the other. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he saw a figure lying in the center aisle.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Darcy - how did you-”

Steve knelt next to her, but paused when he took in her unresponsive glassy eyes, the way her hands lay still at her side. He sat back and ran a hand through his hair.

“LMD,” he said aloud, relieved.

It hadn’t been activated yet. How had this team managed to procure proprietary S.H.I.E.L.D. technology? He gave the Life Model Decoy a critical once over. It had a bruised eye and convincing scrapes on its knuckles and arms. Chestnut waves identical to the real Darcy’s hair were tousled into a rat’s nest of tangles. One shoe was missing - but he noticed it was wearing the same t-shirt, skirt and tights ensemble the real Darcy had on that day. A sick feeling bubbled up in Steve’s stomach.

“Rhodey! Maria! Sam! Nat!” he barked. “I was wrong about the target! Someone pick up!”

“A little busy here, Steve,” James Rhodes, the War Machine, shouted. Steve could hear the pops of repeated gunshots in the background.

“Nat, can you get to the fifth floor for an extraction?” Steve pressed.

“No, I can’t get clear,” she replied.

“Me neither,” Sam answered before Steve could ask.

“I’m in,” reported Maria Hill. “Oh, wait, I take it ba-” her response was overwhelmed by the sound of gunfire as she defended her position, wherever it was.

Steve stepped past the LMD and pushed open the back doors of the van. Daylight streamed in over the LMD’s pale skin. It looked utterly convincing. Steve stared up and up at the far off fifth floor of the New Avengers Facility and sighed.

--------------------------

Stay tuned for Chapter 2! I’d love to know what you think of this beginning.

~luna’s tip jar~

[sorbriquette]

Tagged by @basic-banshee Thank you Ban <3

1. How did you begin writing? I was writing from childhood. My primary school tutor was really encouraging so I started posting fanfic on FF.net illegally at like age 9. It was bad. When I was about 13 I started doing online RP and fell in with a group of brilliant people who helped me keep that up for YEARS and is kinda how I got into writing properly, not my shitty childhood fanfic. 

2. What was your first writing project? Tell us a little about it. Like I said, shitty childhood fanfic. First legit project though would probably be last years NaNoWriMo (where you write 50k in a month). I wrote the first draft of a high fantasy kinda thing I’m working on but like the entire plot of that has been scrapped and I’m starting from scratch this year so...

3. What is your preferred medium for writing first drafts? Oh, I use ywriter 5 (link here) it’s like a free program that lets you write (without a spell check importantly so I don’t stop) and like add in like character and location and item tabs so you can keep track of what and who appears in the story and what each scene fulfills and shit. Imma shut up before this turns into an add but it’s really good and yall should check it out (even if I basically just use the POV system myself)

4. What rituals or habits do you have around writing? 

I don’t really have any I don’t think? For me it’s kinda just sit down and go for as long as I’ve got the motivation. Usually late at night admittedly but yeah there’s nothing particularly consistent about the way I write.

5. We all have a “type”– of character, plot, theme– what is yours? I feel called out. 

Probably wit though. Across all my characters RP, actual story, weves, I like the snarky asshole ones. I’m weak for that banter. 

Also kinda both theme/character: good characters bore the shit out of me. I like ‘em morally grey or immoral and as such I write a lot about the subjective nature of morality in my original shit.

6. Introduce us to one (or more!) of your OC’s. Right so my current original shit has 6 mains and asking me to choose between them is inhumane so you get the 4 starting ones and the other two will remain a mystery.

Ren --> Brings a knife to a gun fight because ‘you gotta live life on hard mode’, makes bad choices for fun, stupidly reckless, very loyal but issues with authority. Military deserter turned pirate. Unofficial leader of this band of misfits. 

Marcel --> Brings 2 knives to a gun fight because he is both a follower and coward. Just here for a laff and a taste of freedom. Prince of a country but does not want to rule. Falls in love with the first man who pays attention to him. Alignment is chaotic dumbass.

Kia --> Supposed to be the party thief but ‘it’s easier to loot a corpse than pick a pocket’. An actual proper coward, will leave everyone else to die if it saves her. Can’t take anything seriously. Tries to life-hack everything. Thinks murder is the solution to everything. 

Corvus --> Absolute pacifist regardless of the danger. RLLY into blackmail (and plants). Lowkey the token evil teammate. Perpetually rolling his eyes. Makes all the plans and then gets salty when no one follows them. Would sell you to Satan for one corn chip.

7. What’s your favorite genre to read? FANTASY! Which is why, despite only really writing fic for Carry On, I’ve not actually read any of Rainbow Rowell’s other work. Contemporary romance doesn’t really interest me.

Also I’m weak for anything featuring like crime, but the criminals doing the crime, not the crime solving. 

8. Your favorite genre to write? Fantasy again! Both high and low but with a preference for high because I like to world build. 

9. How do you conduct your authorial research? LMAO what?

Like I said I like to write high fantasy so I don’t so much research as like to perpetually learn and incorporating things I like in. 

10. What does your editing (gasp) process look like? So in 3. I said ywriter doesn’t have spell check? For fanfic I give it a cursory read over and fix anything glaring, then I copy it into word and use spellcheck and also grammarly. Then to the betas for the final round (I should do more but also?? Just fanfic)

My NaNo project tho? Never got edited at all. 

11. What are your favorite tropes? BRuh I love all the tropes. I am WEaK for tropes. So trimming down to the favs:

I have a weird thing for catagorising so I love me some Cast Calculus

I try but never quite succeed with Blue and Orange Morality

Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking barely counts but I love it

A comedic Rashomon  AKA that thing where everyone is being interrogated and they all tell completely different stories

I high key love a Magnificent Bastard in any form

And I mean a nice round five would have been good but how can one resist a Deadpan Snarker

Also I don’t think this is what I was meant to do for this segment but I enjoyed it so wevs

12. Show off your writing space. ABSOLUTELY NOT MY ROOM IS A MESS

13. What is the most useful piece of writing advice you’ve ever used? Don’t write for anyone but yourself. Write what you want to read. 

I know it’s been said a multitude of times but idk the first time it really resonated with me was when VE Schwab mentioned it. I can’t find the source but I think she was quoting someone, soz!

14. What is the least useful piece of writing advice you’ve ever ignored? Write what you know.

Like get fucked? What I know is fucking boring. Let me write what I can imagine. 

And though I don’t consider it real writing advice cause it was just 1 dumbass post on pinterest I saw one time “when writing a woman's pov make it more about emotions than a males. Her emotions, other peoples emotions’ etc. etc. Basically a load of shit. Don’t write a gender, write a fucking character. 

15. Your writing beverage/snack of choice? I drink a lot of tea but it usually goes cold. 

16. How do you compile your ideas? I don’t mostly, it’s a bad habit. Sometimes I drop stuff in my phone for fanfic or I have a couple of pocket sized leather note books I used to carry around for my original shit. 

But mainly it’s just left in my head to get forgotten :\

17. What are your controversial opinions ™ on the craft of writing? I’m about to get crucified but here goes:

Writing isn’t hard. 

Originally and concepts and stringing together a proper story? Yeah it’s a challenge. But just writing? Nah. not for me at least. If I’m sitting in front of a blank word document it’s because I have a problem with the scene. It doesn’t happen that often but when it does I find the best thing to do is go back and redo the sequence because going off no 13. It probably means I’m not interested in the scene. 

But that’s just my opinion so please extinguish your torches and put down the pitchforks.

Tagging: @mydamnsunshine @thatsbitchcraft and any of my mutals who write. Chances are if you haven’t been tagged I thought you already had so go ahead and consider urself tagged. 

[ultraqueer]

hey lads! i’m queueing this up for right after i go under for knee surgery tomorrow, so i obv won’t be able to respond to anything right away (as i’ll be Drugged As Fuck post-op) but!! here we go (the scene and a few more notes under a read more bc It Is Long)

i posted a lil something about maybe putting a snippet of my original one-act play on here for @duck-days and some people seemed interested, so here it is! i initially wrote this to challenge myself, as i’ve never considered myself especially strong when it comes to writing dialogue (or like... writing a whole ass play on my own lmao), and then challenged myself further by directing it myself. honestly this production was one of the best things i’ve ever done and i doubt i’ll ever forget it

a bit of background for anyone interested:

this was originally written for my college’s one-act play festival in april of 2018

it was selected!! yay!!! and performed at the end of that month

the show’s run time was about 40 min total

my beautiful actors got their shit together in the span of three weeks to put this thing on

i cried A Lot

this is just the first scene (of thirteen), plus the character descriptions, and i don’t intend on ever posting the full text online (i’m down to answer any questions you might have about it tho!!), but there is a recording of the show that i might put up at a later date. anyways i get hella emotional whenever i think abt this show so i’m just gonna shut up and let it speak for itself yEEt

~~~~~~~

POSSESS 

CHARACTER LIST - 

Nadiya King – College junior. A film major intrigued by the paranormal. Sweet, charming, and curious, but at times naïve or oblivious. Female.

Sloane Robertson – College junior and Nadiya’s best friend. Smitten with Nadiya. Intelligent and cautious, but often plays along with Nadiya’s plans. Female.

Desdemona – Spirit. Nineteen when she passed. Summoned by Nadiya, quickly becoming smitten with and possessive of her. Easily angered or made jealous. Female.

Reese – College junior and Nadiya’s roommate. Smitten with Brent. Outwardly sweet and a bit ditzy, but quick to anger. Female or nonbinary.

Logan – College junior and Sloane’s roommate. Cool-headed and logical; generally the one to get their friends out of a pinch. Any gender.

Brent – College senior, living in the biggest frat on campus. Known to be a “player” with more than questionable flirting tactics. Male.

SCENE ONE - 

[An old, eerie house. The furniture and floor are covered in a thick layer of dust and ash - in fact, most everything in the room is burnt to some degree, save for one thing: a shiny, deep purple ribbon curled up on the floor. A pendant hangs from the ribbon. Loud laughter and footsteps from offstage, at which point NADIYA, SLOANE, LOGAN, and REESE enter. REESE is holding a ghastly mask, positively giddy, while SLOANE appears shaken]

REESE: Come on, Sloane, it was funny!

SLOANE: I came here to support Nadiya’s “research” - not to get jumpscared the second we got here!

REESE: But the timing was perfect!

[NADIYA leans her head on SLOANE’s shoulder, eyes wide]

NADIYA: We’re sorry we frightened you, ‘Lo. Can you find it in your heart to forgive us?

[SLOANE looks down at NADIYA and then away, blushing furiously]

SLOANE: I- y-yes.

[NADIYA leaps upright, grinning, and REESE claps her hands]

But I swear to god, if you pull that again…

[As she trails off, NADIYA and REESE move toward the center of the room, whispering. NADIYA pulls out a Ouija board, a candle, and a book of matches. SLOANE stares after NADIYA, until LOGAN taps her on the shoulder]

LOGAN: Real subtle, there.

SLOANE: W-What are you talking about?

LOGAN (to NADIYA and REESE): Alright, what are the ghost hunters up to now?

REESE: Well, you know how my aunt is flipping this old place?

[LOGAN and SLOANE nod]

And she keeps thinking she’s hearing things whenever she visits the property?

[They nod again]

Well, Nadiya thought -

NADIYA: What if we try to talk to whoever’s here?

LOGAN (chuckling, under her breath): Whatever.

NADIYA: Exactly, Logan! Or whatever might be inhabiting the house. Something must be here - it just feels… odd.

[NADIYA kneels on the floor and brushes away some dust, placing the board, planchette, and candle on the cleaned place. Her hair falls in her face, and as she brushes it away, the ribbon catches her eye. She picks it up]

NADIYA: ‘Lo, did you drop this?

SLOANE: Why me?

NADIYA: I don’t know, it seems like something you might like.

[She holds it out to the others]

Logan? Reese?

LOGAN: Nah, not my style.

REESE: Looks kind of gross.

[NADIYA shrugs, but doesn’t put the ribbon down, instead using it to tie her own hair back. She proceeds to light the candle. The moment forgotten, the others join her in kneeling and place their hands on the planchette. SLOANE holds back]

SLOANE: And you sure this is safe?

[NADIYA removes her hands, placing one on SLOANE’s shoulder]

NADIYA: Completely safe, ‘Lo. I’ve been doing this as long as I can remember! As long as we all follow the rules, nothing should bother us.

[Hesitantly, SLOANE puts her hands on the planchette, as does NADIYA]

REESE: Nadiya, you’re asking the questions, right?

NADIYA: That’s what I was planning - if you want to ask something you can, but in my experience it’s best to have someone who’s played before do most of the questioning. You know, just in case.

[REESE nods, and NADIYA closes her eyes. A beat]

NADIYA: Hello?

[A beat]

Are there any presences here with us tonight?

[A moment passes. Then, slowly, the planchette moves to ‘YES’]

NADIYA: When did you die?

[Planchette moves to spell ‘0-6’]

NADIYA: 2006?

[Planchette moves to ‘NO’]

NADIYA: 1906?

[Planchette moves to ‘YES’]

NADIYA: What may I call you?

[Planchette spells the name ‘D-E-S-D-E-M-O-N-A’]

NADIYA: Desdemona?

[A door somewhere in the house slams shut, causing the others to jump]

SLOANE: Nadiya, I don’t think-

NADIYA: Shh!

REESE: Come on Sloane, tonight’s finally getting interesting!

NADIYA: There was a fire here, in the early nineteen hundreds… Desdemona, was that you?

[The planchette is still]

Desdemona?

[A beat]

If anyone is here, show yourselves!

[Instantly, there is a large crash as the windows in the room blow open, extinguishing the candle. The others scream]

REESE: O-kay, this was fun and all, but I think I’m done.

SLOANE: Seconded.

LOGAN: Yeah, no objections here.

NADIYA: Fine. Just make sure you all close out the session properly, alright?

[The others nod. One by one, each student uses the planchette to spell ‘GOODBYE’ as they say it, closing out the session. As they do so, DESDEMONA silently enters the stage, standing directly in NADIYA’s line of vision.]

NADIYA [Opening her eyes]: Good-

[NADIYA locks eyes with DESDEMONA and stops dead. The others don’t realize and remove their hands from the planchette, leaving NADIYA playing alone. NADIYA hastily takes her hands from the planchette]

NADIYA: Do you see that?

SLOANE: What?

NADIYA: That! There’s someone over there!

[The others turn to look but see nothing. After a beat, they break out laughing]

REESE: Good one, Nadiya, you really had us going there!

NADIYA: What?

REESE: The door, the wind, “seeing” something - that was a killer prank!

NADIYA: What?

SLOANE: Prank or not, I really don’t like the vibe of this place. It feels weird. Can we go?

LOGAN: Yeah, let’s.

[SLOANE, LOGAN, and REESE exit, leaving NADIYA and DESDEMONA still staring at one another. Not breaking eye contact, NADIYA backs away, then turns and bolts from the room. Blackout]

[dfroza]

we have to search for Light and welcome it inside.

A willing heart that is humble, not forced to be in Love. this is why we have been made free. free to either choose or reject the truth of our Creator, and of who to be.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 13th chapter of the book of Luke that points to the path of the Son:

Some of those in the crowd informed Jesus that Pilate had slaughtered some Galilean Jews while they were offering sacrifices at the temple, mixing their blood with the sacrifices they were offering.

Jesus turned and asked them, “Do you believe that the slaughtered Galileans were the worst sinners of all the Galileans? No, they weren’t! So listen to me, unless you all repent, you will perish as they did. What about the eighteen who perished when the tower of Siloam fell upon them? Do you really think that they were more guilty than all of the others in Jerusalem? No, they weren’t, and unless you repent, you too will all eternally perish, just as they did.”

Then Jesus told them this parable: “There was a man who planted a fig tree in his orchard. But every time he came to gather fruit from his tree he found none, for it was barren. So he said to his gardener, ‘For the last three years I’ve come to gather figs from my tree but it remains fruitless. What a waste! Go ahead and cut it down!’

“But the gardener protested, ‘Sir, we should leave it one more year. Let me fertilize and cultivate it, then let’s see if it will produce fruit. If it doesn’t bear figs by next year, we’ll cut it down.’ ”

One Sabbath day, while Jesus was teaching in the synagogue, he encountered a seriously handicapped woman. She was crippled and had been doubled over for eighteen years. Her condition was caused by a demonic spirit of bondage that had left her unable to stand up straight.

When Jesus saw her condition, he called her to him and gently laid his hands on her. Then he said, “Dear woman, you are free. I release you forever from this crippling spirit.” Instantly she stood straight and tall and overflowed with glorious praise to God!

The Jewish leader who was in charge of the synagogue was infuriated over Jesus healing on the Sabbath day. “Six days you are to work,” he shouted angrily to the crowd. “On those days you should come here for healing, but not on the seventh day!”

The Lord replied, “You hypocrites! Don’t you care for your animals on the Sabbath, untying your ox or donkey from the stall and leading it away to water? If you do this for your animals, what’s wrong with allowing this beloved daughter of Abraham, who has been bound by Satan for eighteen long years, to be untied and set free on a Sabbath day?”

When they heard this, his critics were completely humiliated. But the crowds shouted with joy over the glorious things Jesus was doing among them.

Jesus taught them this parable: “How can I describe God’s kingdom? God’s kingdom is like the smallest seed that one might plant in a garden. When it grows, it becomes a huge tree, with so many spreading branches that various birds make nests there.”

Jesus taught them another parable: “How can I describe God’s kingdom? God’s kingdom is like something as small as yeast that a woman kneads into a large amount of dough. It works unseen until it permeates the entire batch and the loaf rises high.”

Jesus ministered from village to village, making his way to Jerusalem and teaching the people as he went. A bystander asked him, “Lord, will only a few have eternal life?”

Jesus said to the crowd, “There is a great cost for anyone to enter through the narrow doorway into God’s kingdom. I tell you, many will want to enter but won’t be able to. Once the head of the house has shut and locked the door, it will be too late. Even if you stand outside knocking, begging to enter, and saying, ‘Lord, Lord, open the door for us,’ he will say to you, ‘I don’t know who you are. You are not a part of my family.’

“Then you will reply, ‘But Lord, we dined with you and walked with you as you taught us.’ And he will reply, ‘Don’t you understand? I don’t know who you are, for you are not a part of my family. I will not let you in. Now, go away from me! For you are all disloyal to me and do evil.’

“You will experience great weeping and great anguish when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, along with all the prophets of Israel, enjoying God’s kingdom while you yourselves are barred from entering. You will see people streaming from the four corners of the earth, accepting the invitation to feast in God’s kingdom realm, while you are outside looking in. And take note of this: Some are despised and viewed as the least important now, but one day the master will place them at the head of the line. And some whom you view as ‘elite’ today will become the least important then.”

Just then some Jewish religious leaders came to Jesus to urge him to flee from that place because Herod was out to kill him. Jesus told them, “Go and tell that deceiver that I will continue to cast out demons and heal the sick today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will bring my work to perfection. For everyone knows I am safe until I come to Jerusalem, for that is where all the prophets have been killed. O City of Jerusalem, you are the city who murders your prophets! You are the city who pelts to death with stones the very messengers sent to deliver you! So many times I have longed to gather your wayward children together around me, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings—but you were too stubborn to let me. Now it is too late, since your house will be left in ruins. You will not see me again until you are able to say, ‘We welcome the one who comes to us sent in the name of the Lord.’ ”

The Book of Luke, Chapter 13 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 21st chapter of the book of Job:

Then Job answered Zophar.

Job: Listen carefully to what I’m about to say,

and let your listening be the consolation you give me.

Suffer me to speak to you,

and after I’ve said what I need to say,

you may commence mocking.

Is my complaint addressed to humanity, or has it ever been?

Why shouldn’t I, by this point, be impatient with all of this?

Stay with me, and be stunned at what has happened to such a righteous person;

cover your gaping mouth with your hand.

When I think back upon everything that has gone before, I’m terrified;

my body is overtaken with trembling.

Why do the wicked live

on an ever-upward path to long life and riches?

Their children become well-established in front of them;

their offspring are guaranteed to grow up before their very eyes.

Their houses are immune to approaching terrors;

the rod of God is not on their backs punishing them.

Their bulls are consistent breeders;

their cows deliver healthy calves without miscarrying.

They produce flocks of children and send them all out into the world;

their young ones dance around free of care.

They still participate in celebration,

raising their voices to the song of the tambourine and the harp;

delighting in the sound of the flute.

They pass their time in the lap of abundance,

and they are even permitted to pass quickly to the land of the dead,

instead of lingering with chronic pain.

They tell God, “Leave us be.

We have no interest in You or Your ways.

Who is the Highest One anyway,

and why should we serve Him?

What can we possibly gain by asking favors of Him?

Isn’t He generous enough already?”

Look, don’t you see?

The wicked do not control their own wealth, God does;

I am a long way from understanding the plan for the wicked.

Bildad claims the flame of the wicked is blown out.

But how often is their lamp extinguished?

How often does disaster strike them or does God give them pain

because of His anger at what they’ve done?

How often are they as straw in the wind

or the chaff separated from the grain by fierce winds?

It is said, “God stores away a man’s misdeeds

and delivers them to his children.”

Let Him repay the man Himself, so the man can know it.

Let the wicked see his ruin with his own eyes

as he drinks down the wrath of the Highest One.

After all, once he’s dead and gone and his time is up,

what will he care for his household and family?

Now who dares impart knowledge to God

since He stands as judge over the most powerful?

One person dies when he is fit and strong,

completely secure and totally at peace;

His body is vigorous and well fed;

his bones are strong and moist.

Another person dies with a bitter soul,

having never even tasted goodness.

But they lie down together in the same dust,

covered by the same blanket of worms.

I know how your minds work, my friends,

and how you plan to wrong me—your thoughts of retribution.

You will counter, “Show me!

Where is the palatial estate?

Where are the vaulted tents of the wicked?”

But I say, have you never consulted with those who travel this world?

They can tell you the complexions of many lands.

But you’ve never permitted their witness

in your courts of opinion, have you?

Well, if you had, you’d have heard

that when disaster strikes, the wicked are spared;

On the day of fury,

they are escorted safely through.

Who challenges them openly regarding their actions,

and who repays them on account of all they’ve done?

When death finally comes and they are laid in their graves,

guards stand watch over their tombs, fending off grave robbers.

Laid to rest beside the stream, clods of earth cover them kindly;

while countless souls have gone before, all of humanity follows after.

So, my friends, how can you continue trying to comfort me with these empty consolations?

So far, your answers have been only thinly veiled lies!

The Book of Job, Chapter 21 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, April 28 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that looks at faith and trust:

The receiving of the Torah (מתן תורה) must take place each and every day, as it says, “Trust in the LORD 'bekhol libekha' (בְּכָל־לִבֶּךָ) - with all your heart; and know Him 'bekol derakhekha' (בְּכָל־דְּרָכֶיךָ), in all your ways” (Prov. 3:5-6). The giving of the Torah is described as a “loud and never-ending voice” (Deut. 5:19), though it is our constant responsibility to shema – to receive the invitation of God’s heart.

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart... know Him in all your ways" (Prov. 3:5-6). The Hebrew word for trust is "bittachon" (בִּטָחוֹן), from a root word (בָּטָח) that means "to lean upon," to feel safe and secure.... Bittachon describes emotional acceptance of the goodness of the LORD. Some of the sages have said that while emunah (אֱמוּנָה), or "faith," represents a state of cognitive or intellectual understanding (בִּינָה) that God is involved in all the events of the universe, bittachon means emotionally trusting that the Lord is present in every situation for your good.... Rabbi Bechaya put the distinction this way: "Everyone with bittachon has emunah, but not everyone with emunah has bittachon." Bittachon is an intuitive awareness of the personal love of God for your life, coupled with complete trust that He deeply cares for you (Rom. 8:28). It is an expectation that the love of God is "I-AM-always-with-you," too.

“Know Him In all your ways,” and that means whatever way you find yourself in, which of course includes the way of your struggles, your transgressions, your fears, and your heartaches, as well as the way of your deepest longing and hope... Amen. [Hebrew for Christians]

4.27.21 • Facebook

and another post about being Love:

Did you know that one of the most frequently occurring commandments of Torah is to love --- the stranger? The commandment is repeated in various forms over 30 times in the Jewish Scriptures, for instance: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the LORD” (Lev. 19:18); “You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God” (Lev. 19:34); “Love the stranger, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt” (Deut. 10:19); “You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt” (Exod. 22:21); "When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong” (Lev. 19:33); “Do not oppress the stranger” (Zech. 7:10); “Cursed be anyone who perverts the justice due the stranger” (Deut. 24:19); “The stranger shall be as the native born children of Israel among you” (Ezek. 47:22), “There shall be one law for the native and for the stranger who sojourns among you"(Exod. 12:49; Num. 15:16), and so on. Clearly the LORD does not want people to feel ostracized, excluded, or otherwise left out of His providential and loving plans... Indeed, the message of the universal love of God is at the heart of the gospel itself, hearkening back to God’s earliest promises to redeem humanity and restore paradise lost. “Religion,” tribalism, prejudice, ethnic pride, and so on, are anathema to the Kingdom of God.

Jewish tradition says that King David was born on Shavuot (“Pentecost”), the holiday of shtei ha-lechem, the “two loaves” that prophetically foretold of the advent of the “one new man” (Eph. 2:14-22) and of the mysterious inclusion of the Gentiles into the covenant promises of God (Eph. 3:6). God has a great compassion for the outsider, for the lost, for the orphan and those who are without inheritance in this world. During Shavuot it is customary to read the Book of Ruth which tells the story about redeeming love and the advent of King David. Recall that King David was a direct descendant of Ruth, who as a Moabitess was an outsider and “stranger” to the promises of God (Ruth 4:17). Despite being part of an despised and rejected group of people (see Deut. 23:3), Ruth overcame the law's demand by believing in the love and acceptance of a redeemer of Israel (Ruth 3:9). Ruth's great grandson was named David (דָוִד), meaning "beloved," which has the same numerical value as the word "hand" (יָד). It is no wonder that the LORD chose David to represent God's extended hand of love for the stranger, for the convert, for the outsider, the leper, and the lost, since his descendant Yeshua the Messiah came to love and redeem the entire world by means of His outstretched hands...

“I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Matt. 25:35). We are commanded (i.e., blessed) to practice ahavat ha'geir (אהבת הגר), the “love of the stranger.” This means showing compassion and empathy to an "outsider" who may question their worth and place in your midst... On a somewhat deeper level, the duty to "love the stranger" applies not only to someone whom we regard as an "outsider," but more radically to the "stranger within ourselves," that is, to those aspects of ourselves we censor, deny, or reject. Self-hatred is a spiritual dead-end, chaverim.... Like the prodigal son, we have to "come to ourselves" to return home (Luke 15:17), yet we can't know that we are unconditionally loved until we venture complete disclosure and seek acceptance - despite the mess of our lives. That is the great risk of trusting in God's love for your soul. Those parts of ourselves that we "hide" need to be brought to the light, healed, and reconciled. After all, if we don't find healing for our self-rejection and pain, how can we hope to love and accept others? Dear Lord, deliver us from the torment of self-hatred, in the Name and passion of your love, amen. [Hebrew for Christians]

4.28.21 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

April 28, 2021

The Oracles of God

“Much every way: chiefly, because that unto them were committed the oracles of God. For what if some did not believe? shall their unbelief make the faith of God without effect?” (Romans 3:2-3)

This striking synonym for the Scriptures (“the oracles of God”) occurs just three times in the Bible. In our text, Paul is emphasizing the great privilege and responsibility that was committed to the Jews when God gave His “oracles” to them, a word implying “divinely inspired utterances.”

The author of Hebrews rebuked those Hebrew Christians who had still not learned the very “first principles of the oracles of God,” despite having been professing Christians for a long time (Hebrews 5:12). Finally, the apostle Peter urged his readers: “If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God” (1 Peter 4:11). That is, anyone who presumes to speak for the Lord must “preach the word” (2 Timothy 4:2). It is not our words but His words that are “quick, and powerful” (Hebrews 4:12). In fact, Stephen called them “the lively [or ‘living’] oracles” (Acts 7:38).

In all these references, it is clear that these “oracles of God”—that is, the Holy Scriptures—constitute the very utterances of the living God. They were given to and through believing Jews and are preserved for us now in our Bibles. They obviously should be believed, studied, obeyed, and proclaimed by all who consider themselves to be Christians.

The fact that many people reject the Bible, even claiming it is wrong in what it teaches, is irrelevant. Such claims merely display human arrogance. God’s Word has been “for ever...settled in heaven” and “is true from the beginning” (Psalm 119:89, 160). It will endure even after this present world has passed away (Matthew 24:35) and will finally be the criterion by which its detractors will be judged in the last day (Revelation 20:12; 22:18-19). HMM

A tweet by illumiNations as a collaborative effort in Bible translation:

@IlluminationsBT: The four largest people groups with the greatest remaining need are: the Shaikh of Bangladesh, Japanese of Japan, the Shaikh of India, and the Brahmin of India. #iwtkbible

4.28.21 • 11:01am • Twitter

[hellyeahrpmemes]

※ JENNA MARBLES SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. VIII ※

here’s sentences from 10 more of jenna’s videos! feel free to change names/pronouns/zodiac signs/etc.! more jenna sentences

OPEN LETTERS

“So I had a bunch of thoughts floating around in my head and I didn’t know what to do with them, so I decided to make them all open letters.”

“Dear open letters: lighten up, man. Take it easy.”

“This is really difficult because I have my contacts in and my glasses on.”

“Why is your dog screaming? Like, literally screaming.”

“I’ve met more new people in the last week of my life than I have in the past year. I don’t know if that’s the saddest thing ever or the most awesome thing ever.”

“Good try, but it needs a little work.”

“What’s your favorite vegetable? Eggplant, said no one.”

“We know you know. You know we know.”

“Stop keeping all the cool stuff for yourselves. It’s selfish.”

“0/10 design, I am very angry.”

“Who thought of this? This is a terrible idea.”

“Dear avocados: you can still fuck yourselves, you’re getting worse.”

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be here? Because something doesn’t seem right.”

“I feel better now.”

“Dear bees: if you’re so endangered, why are there always at least 100 of you in my backyard at any given moment just waiting to give your life and hurt me?”

“You’re a do-nothing. Do you wanna be a do-nothing? Cause right now, you’re a do-nothing.”

“I sprayed hairspray directly into my ear the other day, and it was a horrible experience. I don’t wanna relive it ever again.”

“I like, really, really wanna be your friend.”

“Not everything in life requires crying.”

“We get it, you’re on an emotional roller coaster called life, but aren’t we all?”

“Can you please shut the fuck up?”

FULL FACE USING ONLY HIGHLIGHTERS CHALLENGE

“Yes, finally, a makeup challenge that I can do.”

“I’m ready, I wanna do it, I’m so excited.”

“It feels like I dipped my face in a bowl of nacho cheese.”

“I look like the tin man, but we’re gonna fix it.”

“It’s starting to smell a little like paint thinner, but I think it’s worth it.”

“I want you to be able to see my face in the dark.”

“This is the look I’m going for.”

“I’m gonna use this mascara in the color ‘my parents are disappointed in me’.”

“I wanna be seen from space.”

“I mean, now I’m ready.”

“Get on my level, all other makeup artists.”

“This video has been the highlight of my life.”

BAD HABITS

“I need some tape to tape my eyes open.”

“I’m not secretly addicted to crack cocaine.”

“It’s more of a nervous thing.”

“I’m kinda lazy, so that’s kind hard to do.”

“I can’t help it, cause it makes me feel better.”

“Hey, you wanna stay up for another 3 hours?”

“Better go ahead and watch the entire season right now.”

“Is it rude? Yes. Is it terrible? Yes.”

“I feel like it makes every argument a little less serious.”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m helping us in the long-term.”

“Who the fuck invented contacts? Incredible invention.”

“I’m doing what they would want me to. I’m living my best life.”

“I don’t really like to throw things out, because things are so good, why would I throw this out?”

“That is not an appropriate thing to do with your belongings.”

“A little bit of chaos is good for your kitchen or your house, not a lot though.”

“I’m borderline too much.”

“I somehow refuse to charge anything ever.”

“I’m the most annoying person.”

“I have a really bad habit about being very nitpicky about not even the things that matter in life.”

“That fuckin’ pillow needs to go there.”

“Don’t fucking touch that, or I will kill you.”

“I’m very sorry. I’m working on it.”

“He knows that he owns my soul.”

“This is the reality that I’ve created for myself.”

“I get locked out all the time.”

“That’s not a habit, it’s just a thing.”

“What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Have you seen this dog yet? I found it.”

“That is the spice of life, am I right?”

“I feel vulnerable. I always do. You know that.”

REVIEWING BAD APPS 2

“It’s just fuckin’ funny, man, okay?”

“Whose life is this?”

“Here we motherfuckin’ go.”

“This app can’t be good for anyone.”

“This is not legal. There’s no way they can do this.”

“This is disgusting, you know that?”

“I give that a get out of my ear/10.”

“I’ve never been happier to play rock paper scissors with a stranger.”

“Blink if you’re being held captive.”

“We were playing rock paper scissors and now we’re buying a bikini.”

“This got so fucking creepy!”

“This is a work environment…!”

“What the fuck is this job you got, girl, you’re better than that!”

“This is what happens if you do drugs once.”

“10/10 idea for a tattoo.”

“This is criminal.”

“I think that’s sexy Christmas, and worth a dollar.”

“That is a demon.”

“That was weird and sad.”

“That was so aggravating!”

“Can he see us?”

“That is the most legendary app of all time.”

“Don’t touch my hat, what is wrong with you?”

MY BOYFRIEND TEACHES ME JIU JITSU

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“This doesn’t sound like the sport for me.”

“This doesn’t sound like a sport at all.”

“You can strangle someone to death.”

“Am I allowed to lick? Spit? Blow on you? Scream loudly? Sing a song?”

“It’s basically the same rules as Kindergarten; don’t be a complete asshole and spit on people.”

“Sounds like a disrespectful sport, that’s what it sounds like.”

“Is there gonna be snacks?”

“Please don’t break my arm.”

“No, you can’t sing that.”

“One, two, three, goodbye.”

“It felt wrong.”

“That’s really not allowed.”

“Don’t do that with your tongue.”

“Can’t you just kill them with your kindness?”

“Oh my fuck, you’re heavy.”

“My leg hurts, is that normal?”

“I don’t want to choke you, I love you.”

“It doesn’t look very threatening when I do it.”

“Don’t you want to choke me right now?

“I love you, but don’t do that.”

“Ow, for fuck’s sake!”

“Whose hand is that?”

“What do you call this? Is it called ‘sleepover’?”

“Why would anyone want to do this?”

“Don’t do it, I tried it, it’s a bad idea.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“I feel like I didn’t even get a workout, I just got wet.”

ROAST YOURSELF CHALLENGE

“You know, I don’t eat beef, but, if I did, I would like it roasted.”

“You were cool in 2012, the end.”

“You’re actual trash.”

“You got a Masters Degree and don’t use it.”

“Not cool, man. Clarinets are easy to misplace.”

“The fuck was that, a Lion King reference?”

“Can’t even trust you to not make it weird for even one second.”

“I’m not making it weird, you’re making weird.”

“Ya nasty. Get a manicure.”

“You should grow up and get a job.”

“You have a radio show because your face is better for radio.”

“Where is your top lip?”

“I watched you bite your own toenail the other day.”

“Your hair is stupid!”

ASMR MUKBANG UNBOXING GAMING TUTORIAL

“Can someone fucking help you?”

“I hear that they have billions of dollars and lots of Mexican food.”

“I would prefer neater handwriting, but this slop-fest will have to do for now.”

“They only fill the chips up to about here.”

“These have been sitting out for a little while, so they’re kind of stale.”

“It tastes a little like the long line I waited in to get this.”

“Did you do anything fun today at school?”

“I got it at Target.”

“It smells good, but it’s a lot, you know?”

“There’s a tag that says something about getting arrested if you take it off.”

“Am I going to jail now?”

“I’ve been to that bitch’s house, and I can’t get Kylie lip kit.”

“I hope this was everything you wanted ever.”

REACTING TO MY OLD VIDEOS (300TH VIDEO)

“It’s hard to watch yourself, and it’s cringey, especially if it’s old.”

“Oh, man, this is brutal.”

“A very nice young girl with a very large chip on her shoulder.”

“I’m still incredibly embarrassed and ashamed.”

“Look at this tan, though… look at this tan.”

“There was a fire at my job, and, like a good employee, I put the fire out with a fire extinguisher.”

“I was working at a tanning salon, and I was like, this is a good look.”

“I am past this phase, thankfully.”

“It looks like it feels like Doritos because it did feel like Doritos.”

“I’ve come a long way.”

“Those things are demonic-looking.”

“The voice is very jarring.”

“It’s a lot. If you could just dial it back, like, a bunch of notches, that’d be really great.”

“I mean, I can’t say that I blame you.”

“I can’t even fully understand what I’m saying.”

“He filmed the whole thing on my laptop.”

“I’ve been the same since day one, so…”

“The worst quality, the worst audio, just terrible. Terrible all around.”

“She seems like a nice girl.”

“Jenna, I feel like you’re throwing your life away.”

“I think my entire life will be a cycle of me looking back at everything I’ve ever done and being like, ‘this is horrible. I hate it’.”

“I hate you for this.”

“This is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It genuinely pissed people off.”

“People were so mad at me.”

“It felt like people hated me personally.”

“Everyone’s just thinking that I’m some alcoholic.”

“I certainly feel that I’ve changed a lot as a person.”

“I’ve said lots of things that I probably shouldn’t have said.”

“It means everything to me. I just really appreciate it more than I could ever possibly tell you.”

“I changed my life.”

“Thank you so, so, so, so much for being kind to me, and caring, and giving me a chance to learn from my mistakes.”

“This is the most fun, most cool, most amazing thing that I could ever ask for.”

THOUGHTS FROM A BATHTUB 2

“Petition to make formal bath time a thing.”

“You can’t fit a square peg in a round hole, but you can light everything on fire.”

“They already make hot sauce, but why don’t they make cold sauce for food that’s too spicy?”

“I think it should be socially acceptable to sprint anywhere you want to. It’s faster, and I’m in a hurry.”

“One time, I wished upon a cloud.”

“The word tabletop is redundant.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the coach.”

I think alarm systems would be more effective if, instead of alarm noises, they just shouted out the entire Gettysburg Address.”

“One time, your parents had sex with each other.”

“I think a really dirty, lazy person invented Febreeze.”

“I will now perform the opening song “Bonjour” from “Beauty and the Beast”.”

“I feel vulnerable right now. I feel very vulnerable and out there.”

JENNA’S RATCHET FASHION BOUTIQUE: DOG COSTUMES

“I was genuinely baffled by it.”

“I am a mere mortal, not a crafting god.”

“I feel like this is the fairest way to do this, to please everyone.”

“This could get very dicey, but let’s do it, I’m ready.”

“Now you’re filled in, congratulations, you’re welcome.”

“This is really, really bad.”

“I don’t really know what my plan is.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.”

“I hope I don’t regret this.”

“Why wait for Halloween to make your dreams come true?”

“Much to your, and my, surprise, this actually works.”

“Is it overkill? Yeah.”

“See something cool? Make a mediocre version of it.”

“Please work, please work.”

“I don’t have any other ideas, there is no Plan B, this has to work.”

[nyrandrea]

Communication

Right, so I wanted to try and give myself a challenge here because a few folk pointed out to me that I tend to write a lot of quick and snappy scenes without really stopping for a moment. So here we go, this is my attempt at trying a nice, calm, development chapter. Sit down and relax, folks.

I also want to thank you all for 300 followers! It means so much to me, you have no clue! ;w;

Once again, this story is inspired by the 2D Bendy AU created by the wonderful @shinyzango!

I tried.

They were still no closer to finding the information that they both so desperately craved.

Henry's brow furrowed as he continued to flick through the several documents that he had found in an old wooden cabinet in one of the storyboard rooms. The pages were yellow with age and musty with several layers of dust on top of them. He was forced to blow on the pages in order to be able to read the faded out words but instantly regretted it as the sudden puff from the cloud of dust sent him into a coughing fit.

Too bad they were far away from that air vent that they had found earlier, he really could have used it just about now.

“Henry...are ya alright?” A small, worried voice asked from below.

He glanced down and smiled as he nodded, “Yeah bud, don't worry.” The older man managed to say in between coughs. “Lot of dust in this place, probably shouldn't have did that.” He said with a chuckle, clutching his chest slightly as he tried to steady his breathing again.

Bendy frowned sadly in response. “You should be more careful Henry, cuz I dunno when we're gonna find another air vent again...” He paused for a moment.

 “Maybe ya should...slow down your breathin' or somethin'...ya use up less air that way, right? And then you'll be able to breathe better...and...” The demon trailed off and looked down.

Henry could feel that Bendy was holding back on something, the little toon shuffled nervously and wrung his hands together as he tried to avoid the man's eyes. Henry sighed as he suddenly realised what was getting the demon so anxious.

“Bendy.” The toon looked up nervously, to which Henry smiled in a reassuring manner. “What happened back there was just a one off thing, I promise you, I am completely fine now.”  

Henry still felt pretty pissed off with himself that he even allowed that mental breakdown to happen in the first place. He hated that Bendy had to see and deal with it, but it was in the past, it happened, they had to move on. He had to move on.

“If ya say so...” Bendy said, not sounding fully convinced. But the little devil's frown was soon replaced with a big grin as he enthusiastically put his gloved hands on his hips. “Now those papers aren't gonna sort themselves out! Let's keep going through ‘em and find some info, eh?” He said with a determined nod.

Henry gave a small grin and nodded back. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, pal.” With that, he continued to rake through the cabinet of documents, a new fire lit up in his eyes as he felt Bendy's confidence and determination flow through his mind powerfully.

After about half an hour of continued searching and reading, that fire and determination was completely extinguished again.  

There was nothing, no information on Joey, or the whereabouts of any of the other employees for that matter. All that he had found were some blueprints for the ink machine, which he had decided to keep a hold of, and had stuffed it into his trouser pocket. It could come in handy if they ever managed to get back up to the machine, somehow.

Henry let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temples as he leaned his back against the wooden cabinet and slumped down to the floor, it was going to be a long and difficult journey before they would ever reach that damn machine again, he could just feel it.

A small and subtle twinge suddenly pricked at the back of his mind, it was a feeling of regret and...longing, but it wasn’t his own. Curious, he glanced a look at Bendy, who surprisingly had the most glum expression he had ever seen on anyone, the little toon was staring off at something on the far side of the room. The older man raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes as he looked over, seeing if he could catch what had the demon so down.

There were two vintage, ragged posters pinned to the wooden wall, one with a cartoon wolf holding up a clarinet, the other an angel with devil's horns and a shining halo, she was holding her gloved hand up as if she was about to perform a song. Henry’s eyes lit up with realisation, it was Boris and Alice.

With all the chaos that had been going on, he had completely forgotten about those two.

 Boris was supposed to be Bendy's best friend and a sort of sidekick to the little devil in the show, while Alice was the love interest, of sorts. The angel and demon had a running gag where they pretended to hate each other and would often pull off cruel stunts and tricks on the other, but in the end, they actually cared a lot about each other, though they would never show it. It was a sweet, comedic hit for the audiences, and it brought in a lot of views and money for the studio.

Henry sighed slightly, it was nothing but a memory now.

Although, it did bring up a new question: Where was Alice? Had she been brought to life like the others? The thought made Henry think back to when he and Bendy had come across what appeared to be have been a failed attempt at bringing Boris back to life, back at the beginning of their travels.

He remembered seeing the lifeless corpse of the wolf roughly strapped to some sort of raised operating table with ink pipes connected to the back. White ribs protruded from the wolf's body, which were stuck up at some pretty odd angles, the older man had to try and calm Bendy down, who was absolutely hysterical at the horrific sight. It had taken Henry a good long while of coaxing before the poor thing gained his composure again.

Henry blinked as he snapped out of his thoughts, and looked back down to Bendy once more. He felt a little pang in his heart at the little toon’s downcast expression, the demon looked absolutely depressed.

“Bendy...” Henry tentatively started. “You ok?” It was probably a stupid thing to ask, but he honestly didn't really know what else to say.

It took a few moments before the devil finally answered. “Hm. I'm fine, just...thinkin' is all...”

Henry frowned slightly when nothing else was said, he could very clearly feel that the demon was definitely not fine, and they both knew it. He was very tempted to ask Bendy if he knew anything about Alice being alive, but he didn't want to push his luck with the already gloomy toon, so he decided to drop the matter entirely, for the time being at least.

Henry let out a stifled yawn, earning an instantaneous glare from Bendy, the older man blinked before sighing at the fact that he had been caught and prepared himself for the incoming lecture.

“Henry, you should really get some rest.” The demon glanced around the room. “Maybe we should take a quick nap or somethin'” Henry gave him a tired but reassuring grin.

“I’m fine, really. We should keep moving-“

“But I'm pretty tired too, we could both do with some shut-eye.” Bendy interrupted, before clasping his gloved hands together and looking up at the human with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster, which for a cartoon, was especially exaggerated. “Please?”

It took everything in Henry's power not to chuckle at the sight, it would appear that he had no choice in the matter.

“Fine, I suppose you're right, bud.” He complied. “But only for a little while, an hour or so, deal?” Henry placed his index finger onto the page for Bendy to shake.

Bendy grinned and nodded happily. “Deal!” He took the finger with both hands and shook vigorously. The sensation of touching a live cartoon was still very bizarre, it was something that he was probably never going to get used to.

“Alright, let me find somewhere a little more comfortable then. This floor won't exactly be good for my old bones.” With that, Henry got up with the help of his axe, and moved to a more appropriate spot for a nap.

“Hey!” Bendy piqued up, catching the other's attention. “If ya ask me, I’d say that your bones are in pretty great condition!”

Henry gave the little devil an amused look. “Oh yeah, what makes you say that?”

“Well, I uh...” He faltered for a split second. “Well, they just are, cuz you're super macho!” Bendy proudly exclaimed, making Henry roll his eyes slightly, but with a small smile on his face.

“Whatever you say, bud.” The older man bemusedly said, he had to wonder if the demon was being supportive or if he was just being plain naive. Either way, it was honestly quite sweet.

There was a chair on the far side of the room, just opposite of the posters, Henry pondered if he should have faced the chair in another direction, so that Bendy wouldn't have to look at them, but decided against it. There were duplicate posters all over the place anyway, so there was no escaping looking at them.

Henry sat down and sighed in relief as he settled himself down, the hard, wooden chair wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep upon, or sit upon for that matter. But it sure as hell was better than the floor, at least he would have a back support.

He placed Bendy's page and his axe on a nearby desk, stretched his strained arms and decided to check himself over for a minute, he didn't know when he was going to get the opportunity to again.

His clothes were absolutely tattered, ragged and had jet black ink stains all over them, especially the bottom half of his trousers and shoes, his shirt, however, was still in a surprisingly good condition. His skin was stained and smeared with faded ink, and his hair was slightly matted with the black substance, although it had dried up slightly, resulting in his hair clumping up a tad bit.

‘Ugh. I'm going to have to take a really long shower when I get out of here.’ Henry amusedly thought to himself, before pausing for a moment.

‘If...I get out.’ A subtle but menacing voice at the back of his mind said.  

Sighing and pushing the negative thought away, he checked his leg next. The trouser material was still ripped but the bandages were gone, he had decided that the wound was healed enough to not need them anymore, that, and he had ran out of fresh wrappings anyway. The large gash was now a horrible looking scar, but he was honestly just thankful that it had managed to stay clean and healed up without any sort of infection.

‘Heh...another battle scar to add to the collection, I suppose.’ He thought, smiling slightly.

Henry stopped his health check and leaned back in the chair while crossing his arms across his stomach, preparing himself for what was probably going to be a rough sleep, but just as he was about to shut his eyes, a small cough caught his attention.

The older man lifted his head and turned it to look at the source of the noise. Bendy had his hands clasped together and was looking down in a sheepish manner. Henry noticed a subtle feeling of self-doubt creeping up at the back of his mind.

“Bendy.” This earned a small flinch from the demon. “What's wrong?”  

Bendy kept quiet, he had a perplexed expression on his face, like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to say anything, the self-doubt at the back of Henry's mind was gradually getting stronger, it was like there was a battle of wills going on inside him, he was going to have calm the little toon down and find out what was bothering him so much.

“It’s all right...” Bendy glanced up, Henry gave him a gentle, reassuring smile. “You can tell me anything, bud. Anything at all.” This seemed to ease the devil slightly, and the negative emotions died down slightly, making it easier for Henry to think again.

“Well, I uh...” Bendy stuttered a little as he tried to string his sentence together in a way that would make sense. “Maybe I should sleep...w-with ya...so I can...um...protect ya better if any of those monsters decide to attack us.” Bendy quickly said, before pausing for a moment.

“Yeah, that way they won't get the jump on ya, not with me there!” The little toon added with a more confident tone and determined expression this time.

Henry blinked for a moment in mild surprise, why was Bendy suddenly so insistent in sleeping with him? The desk honestly wasn't that far from him so protection certainly wasn't going to be an issue, but Henry could still feel that self-doubt creeping up again, and he noticed a glint of longing in Bendy's face, like a child that was desperately wanting something, which was when it dawned on him:

The little demon just didn't want to sleep on his own.

Henry had never really thought about it before but he had only arrived in the studio a short while ago, and it had been a full 30 years since he was last here, Bendy had been brought to life not that long after he had left, so during that time, Bendy must have been completely on his own. The poor thing had went years without any company at all, so Henry couldn't really blame him for wanting to be comforted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

“Good idea, bud.” The older man said with a smile. “We'll cover each other’s back much easier that way.” He said, not wanting to call out Bendy on his real reasoning. Like him, the little toon could be quite prideful.  

He reached over, lifted the paper from the desk and gently laid it onto his chest, with Bendy facing upwards. Henry could feel a surge of relief and happiness wash over him through their connection, and noticed the beaming grin that was on Bendy's face, he smiled at the lovely sight. The man put a hand over the paper as Bendy settled himself down, and closed his eyes as he could feel a drowsiness start to take over him.

“Sleep tight, Henry...” He could hear Bendy sleepily mutter.  

“You too, pal...” Henry replied, a small smile on his face.

It didn't take long for sleep to overcome them both.

The older man could instantly tell where he was without even having to open his eyes.

He slowly felt around the smooth surface that he was laying upon, it was cool and ever so slightly wet to the touch, it also felt soft and...almost organic. He knew that he was going to have to get up soon, so he slowly got himself up into a sitting position and yawned loudly as he stretched his arms to try and stimulate the stiff limbs.

“So...you're here again.” Henry nonchalantly said with a small grin as he looked up at the huge monster, who in return, gave him a semi unamused look. 

However, it was quickly replaced with a huge fang-filled grin as the demon lowered his head to nuzzle the older man in a manner of greeting, making Henry flinch slightly as he timidly gave Bendy a small pat, just above his eye.

As much as he appreciated the gesture, he was still extremely nervous about it. Especially after the whole horrible flashback scenario that had happened before, the excruciating pain that he had to go through back then was completely unbearable, there was no way he was prepared to deal with something like that again. So as endearing as Bendy was being, Henry couldn't help but wish that he would keep his distance.

The head suddenly pulled back, the unexpected movement threw Henry off balance slightly. Looking up to see what was wrong, he grimaced as Bendy gave him what appeared to be an offended and somewhat hurt expression. As subtle as the human tried to be, it looked as though Bendy had caught on to his thoughts, Henry ran a hand through his hair in a sheepish manner as he tried to reason with the large demon.

“I'm sorry, bud. It's just that after last time-“

He was suddenly cut off though, as Bendy rolled his eye and held up his other hand in a motion for him to stop talking.

A dark, deep, booming voice suddenly sounded out.

“No, no...I get it. You're still scared of me.” The voice said in an almost sarcastic manner.

Silence followed as Henry just stared up at Bendy, completely dumbfounded.

The demon simply stared back nonchalantly as the sound of his voice echoed throughout the area, gradually quieting down until silence engulfed them once more.

Henry was at a complete loss for words. Did...did Bendy honestly just speak?  

The sheer power and authority in that voice was unbelievable, but it wasn't completely overpowering, it was very...soft and gentle, like the sound of rumbling thunder sounding out in the distance. It was nothing like the enthusiastic, joyful and higher pitched voice he was so used to hearing from the devil in his little doodle form.

There were a few beats of silence, before Henry finally managed to conjure up the strength to talk again.

“You...you can....you can actually speak?” His voice cracked slightly, it sounded so weak and pathetic compared to Bendy's, it didn't help that he could feel himself trembling slightly as well.

Bendy blinked in surprise at the man's shivering, before giving him a sympathetic and slightly sheepish look. The large demon tried to ease him a bit by quieting down his voice just a tad, so as not to spook the human so much.

“Yes.” Bendy said, much calmer this time. “I have always been able to speak.”

Silence ensued once more as Henry kept staring at him.

Now it was Bendy that started to feel a little nervous. Did he really scare Henry that much? The demon could feel the connection between them waver slightly, there was a flickering tension in the air that made him very uncomfortable. Bendy tried to smile in a reassuring manner and was about to ask if Henry was alright, before being caught completely off guard as Henry suddenly stood up.

“Are you kidding me with this?!” Henry angrily exclaimed while throwing his arms up, stunning the large demon, making him flinch a little.

“Why...!” Henry grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down, failing miserably.

“Why...are telling me this just now? Hm? Why didn't you say anything back when I was going through all of that...crap?!” He angrily yelled, glaring up at the monster.

He gripped the sides of his head and groaned loudly in frustration as Bendy stayed silent, his expression still a little bewildered. The human could feel his pent up anger start to rise.

“You just stood there...and watched...while I writhed about in pain, and you didn't even think to talk, to tell me what was going on, or to-“

Henry was suddenly cut of however as a clawed finger gently but firmly pushed him off of his feet and back into a sitting position.

“Oh do calm down, Henry.”

Bendy’s deep, rumbling voice held a subtle condescending tone to it, which made Henry clench his teeth in a somewhat annoyed grimace.

“Hey, don't tell me to calm down-“

Henry was cut off again, this time by a quiet and low warning growl. This definitely shut the human up as his eyes widened a little in fear. He knew that Bendy wouldn't hurt him as he seemed to have complete control over this...dream or nightmare form, whatever it was. But he also knew that when the demon was annoyed, it was a sign to stop.

Satisfied, Bendy quieted down and spoke once again.

“Now, I am sorry that you had to deal with the pain, really I am. But I had no other choice but to let the connection take place. I was not able to stop it, it had to happen. I... hope you can understand.” The large demon said with a sombre and somewhat guilty look.

Henry frowned and looked down, before speaking up again, “But...what even happened? What's the connection for? How...why did it happen?” The human asked, a desperate tone in his voice. His need for answers was killing him, he had to know what the Hell was going on, and now.

Bendy looked away nervously, as if he was trying to come up with some kind of answer that would satisfy him, but Henry didn't even give him a chance to think as the man rapidly fired more questions at him.

“What about those visions? Those figures at the machine, the clarinet, the...ring, the golden ring. What does it mean? And...what are you? Is...this another form or...are you even real? What...what about...”

He trailed off as he noticed that Bendy had closed his eye and was shaking his head slowly, as if the devil was trying to make sense of everything himself, making Henry blink in confusion.

“...I apologise, but...I do not have the answers to all of your questions. All that I know is that the connection needed to happen and that I am alive.” Bendy simply said with a straight face, while Henry's expression just grew even more confused.

“You're...alive? The Hell does that even mean?” The older man asked with a frown. Bendy's expression didn't falter as he simply replied.

“It means exactly what I said. I am alive.”

The human sighed in aggravation, he hated it when he got vague answers.  

“Ok, well...what about Joey? Do you know where he is?” He asked in a somewhat more hopeful tone. Bendy frowned sadly and shook his head, but Henry wasn't giving up.

“...What about the other Bendy? Y'know, the one that keeps chasing us? You know anything about it?” A sudden growl from the demon made the older man flinch, he could feel a sudden anger rise up within him, and it wasn't his own this time.

Bendy's expression looked fairly furious at the mere mention of that monster, Henry couldn't exactly blame him but...the demon looked absolutely terrifying as his fang filled grin turned into an angry grimace, the white pupil in his eye shrunk a little. It reminded Henry a little of when Bendy would have his insane phases, and safe to say, it had him pretty panicked.

“The less you and I know about that impostor, the better. All that I do know, is that if it even dares to come near you again, I won't hesitate to kill it...”  

Henry could feel Bendy's hand trembling from underneath him, the demon's face looked absolutely livid now.

‘Shit...I shouldn't have brought that up...’ He internally scolded himself. He was going to have to calm him down before something happened.

“Hey...it's ok, bud.” The older man coaxed while holding out a hand. “I’m alright, nothing's gonna happen to me.”

Bendy's angry look turned into one of sadness as he lowered his head to nuzzle Henry's hand.

“You do not know that. Not for sure.” Bendy solemnly said as he closed his eye, his head still lowered.

Henry frowned slightly, before smirking a little. “Actually, I do.”

This caught Bendy's attention as his single eye snapped open and looked at the human curiously.

“I have you, don't I? You're the sole reason I'm even still alive. So as long as you still stick with me,  I can probably guarantee that I'll be totally fine.” Henry inwardly cringed at how cheesy his wording was, but Bendy lifted his head and gratefully smiled at the sentiment.

“Then I shall be by your side until the very end.” Bendy replied, with a new found light in his eye and a big, genuine grin. Despite the terrifying fangs, he looked like his old joyful self again.

Henry smiled back before frowning slightly again. After a moment of silence, he looked up to Bendy with an almost pleading look.

“Are you sure that there isn't anything you can tell me that would help us? Anything at all?” The large devil gave him a sympathetic look.

“I only know as much as you do, Henry. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The older man sighed at the answer, but he honestly didn't expect anything else. He had hoped that Bendy might have had all the answers or some kind of magical solution to clean up this whole mess, but alas, reality had to kick in sometime.

He slumped a little, and ran a hand through his thick but aging hair, he was starting to wonder what the point in all of this was. Was there really an end goal in sight? Were they even going to make it out? Or were they doomed to wander around the studio in an infinite loop? He was starting to maybe think it was going to be the latter.

“Fear not. We will make it out.” The sudden deep and growling voice caught him off guard again and made him jump slightly. He quickly looked up to see Bendy giving him an encouraging grin, how did he-

Henry internally scolded himself, he completely forgot about how open his thoughts and emotions were to Bendy now. Of course the demon could tell how he was feeling.

“We will survive and we will get out, mark my words.” Bendy said in a confident but comforting tone. “You once told me that you wanted to show me what world is outside of the studio, to show me colour, I remember you being very passionate about it.”

Henry blinked silently, allowing Bendy to continue.

“I am passionate about it as well. I want to see what’s out there, and I want you to show me. We are, as you said, ‘family', after all. Am I right?”  

Henry's look of surprise instantly softened into one of gratitude.  

“Yeah.” Henry said, his voice wavering slightly, he felt himself getting a little emotional at the fact that Bendy was quoting his own words. “Yeah, you're right, bud.” He smiled up at the large demon and nodded. “I promise I'll show you everything out there, you're gonna love it.”

Bendy smiled, nodded back and lowered his head to nuzzle Henry's.

“If you love your outside world so much, then I will love it too, without a doubt.” Bendy replied, lightly rubbing the older man's head with his own. 

Henry chuckled lightly and lifted a hand to give the demon's cheek a small pat, a mutual feeling of trust and understanding smoothly and powerfully ran through the connection of their bond.

They gave each other a smile before Henry woke up.

He slowly opened up his eyes, only to be greeted by the silence of the studio, save for a light snoring sound that was coming from below. He tiredly glanced down to the paper that he still had lightly grasped to his chest, Bendy was still completely out for the count, and was grinning sleepily as he continued to silently snore. Henry smiled softly at the sight.

He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes as he felt subtle hints of the bond come through from his dream, the comforting feeling relaxed him, as did the peace and quiet. He took a deep breath and let it out as he allowed himself to enjoy the calm atmosphere for the time being, he gripped Bendy's page ever so slightly, just to make sure he was still secure.

Only one thought ran through his mind: He was going to get Bendy out of this place, one way or another.

The studio stayed silent as the monsters kept at bay.

I know, I suck at development but I sure as heck tried. ;w;

Also I thought it was a good opportunity to use doodle Bendy a little more because I honestly don’t focus on him enough.

On the other hand, I focus on Nightmare too much but hey I love him, what can ya do.

Anyway, let me know what y’all think!

Chapter 1 - Friend - https://nyrandrea.tumblr.com/post/160420312731/friend

Chapter 2 - Rest - https://nyrandrea.tumblr.com/post/160589009081/rest

Chapter 3 - Enemy - https://nyrandrea.tumblr.com/post/160963746341/enemy

Chapter 4 - Family - https://nyrandrea.tumblr.com/post/161237849016/family

Chapter 5 - Nightmare - https://nyrandrea.tumblr.com/post/161560167591/nightmare

Chapter 6 - Bond - https://nyrandrea.tumblr.com/post/161937236941/bond

Chapter 7 - Breakdown - https://nyrandrea.tumblr.com/post/162340494396/breakdown

[serensama]

Happy Birthday Choi Boys

Just a quick, last minute Birthday HC for our favourite twins. 

How do the Choi Boys celebrate their birthday?

This includes some profanity :) 

Saeyoung:

-       Saeyoung was up at 11:59pm the night before.

-       As soon as the clock struck 12 he tried to jump on the bed and scream out the ‘Happy Birthday’ song, only to have been beaten by his fiancé.

-       MC quickly turned around and blew a small, red party horn in his face.

“Happy Birthday baby!” she cried out with her arms held up to the ceiling.

-       The red head was stunned for a whole minute until the beginnings of a smile formed on his face. MC took out another party horn for him and the two started to blow the noise makers, alternating turns, as they jumped up and down on the bed like children.

-       Saeyoung darted out of their bedroom and crashed into his brother’s room; the younger twin sprawled out over the bed, his covers mussed all over the place. The ex-hacker dove onto his sleeping sibling, causing the latter to scream out in shock as MC bounced up and down on her knees at the foot of the bed.

-       Once his brother stopped screaming in fear, he started screaming in anger for them to get the hell out, (“You bunch of crazy shits! Get the fuck out of my room. My birthday doesn’t start until I say it does and I refuse to share it with you, Jackass! GET OUT AND LET ME SLEEP… MC if you blow that horn one more time…”)

-       Suffice it to say, she did.  

-       The younger man leapt up to tackle MC only to receive a pillow to the face.

-       “TRADITIONAL BIRTHDAY PILLOW FIGHT!!!” Saeyoung screamed, one pillow in each hand like some fearsome, duel wielding warrior. Saeran growled as he got up, glaring daggers at his brother. “That’s not a thing. That’s not a tradition we have. We have no birthday traditions.” “WE DO NOW!” he challenged as he raised a pillow into the air to whack his brother with. However, Saeyoung unexpectedly fell forward when MC, who was now wise to her lover’s antics, threw in a sneak attack.

-       The twins looked at each other and for once were in complete agreeance. No one got to be sneakier than them on their birthday, especially not during Birthday Pillow Fight time.

-       The three ran around the house, swatting at each other with their pillows- the fine feather stuffing littering the ground wherever they went.

-       It ended up as a three-way Mexican standoff around the dining table; Saeyoung armed with a pillow and a rubber ducky he had somehow picked up along the way, Saeran with a cushion and tea towel he twirled menacingly- ready to snap at anyone who moved… and MC… one slipper in one hand and a body pillow far too big to be of any use to her whatsoever in the other….

-       As they stood there, inching one way and then retreating to the other, MC looked over to both men, still eyeing each other off intensely- looking to exploit any weakness. “So… Cake?”

-       The two turned to her and received a smack with the slipper and the ridiculously large body pillow.

-       MC dropped her weapons and made a beeline to the kitchen.

-       There on the counter was a giant (obviously homemade) cake with yellow and pink candy letters that spelt out,

“Happy Birthday to the best twins ever. And yes, you are my favourite.”

-       They spent the next five minutes arguing who was the favourite as MC ran out to gather their presents. The two looked at the presents in her hands and quickly shut up… presents? For them both? Who cared who was the favourite? They had presents! “For the record, it’s obvious that I’m the favourite Saeran-” “And why is that? Because you’re marrying her? That just proves she pities you more.” “MC! SAERAN IS BEING A JERK!” “Saeran! Apologise to your brother!” “See… told you I was the favourite!” “Saeyoung! Stop being a jerk to my favourite!” “Told ya.” “MC~!”

-       After their third slice of cake the trio found their way on the couch, rubbing their tummies and bemoaning how tired and old they were all getting.

-       They fell asleep with MC in Saeyoung’s arms and Saeran leaning his head against his future sister in law’s shoulder.

-       Saeyoung was the first to wake up and survey the scene before him- Saeran with chocolate smeared on the corner of his mouth and his perfect fiancé resting peacefully in his arms- he knew he already had the best birthday present of all. His happy little family.

-       He let his thumb trace MC’s sleeping features, a small smile of contentment on his face.

-       Pulling it out, and putting it between his lips- he freaking blew the party horn again.

-       MC and Saeran woke up in a panic to the howling Saeyoung, rolling about the couch.  

-       The other two squinted their eyes at him and were on him in the blink of an eye, slapping at him and pinching at any bared skin. He was sure his brother gave him a wedgie… well more like he tried… but he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

-       Saeyoung cackled at the sound of utter horror his baby brother emitted.

-       After becoming black and blue from their playful smacks, he called for a timeout and heaved his fiancé over his shoulder and back to his room- his younger brother pulling a disgusted face before laying back down on the couch to get some more sleep.

-       Saeyoung sat at the end of their bed, MC upon his lap, her arms and legs encircled around him. She gently placed her forehead against his and smiled before leaning in to steal his mouth for a birthday kiss.

-       “Happy Birthday, my darling,” she whispered against his lips as they pulled apart, her fingers idly twirling in his messy locks. “Hmmm,” he hummed happily, drunk from the euphoria he had just experienced, “best birthday ever!” he proclaimed as he drew the curtain of hair away from his lover’s face.

-       “It’s not done yet ‘Youngie!” she chirped, wriggling about on his lap, “We still have tonight’s party at that BBQ restaurant Jumin booked out for us… I have no idea why he chose it- as if that man has ever cooked his own meat…” “He’s probably going to get Jaehee to cook it for him…” “Who are you to judge, Mr “I almost burnt down the kitchen making grilled cheese-” “Hey in my defence-” “No defence! You had put the whole sandwich in the toaster and it was on fire-”

“It still tasted good.”

-       MC groaned as she pushed Saeyoung back against the mattress, straddling him- her giant grin contradicting the puff of annoyance she made. “My point is- smart ass- your birthday has only just begun! You can’t possibly know it’s going to be the best one ever-” “Yes I can,” he answered assuredly, locking his hands around her waist, drawing her down towards him. “Oh, how can you?” she asked as she aligned herself upon him, her arms folded under her chin, resting on his chest. “Because… I started the day with you. I started the day laughing with you. Laughing with my brother. I never thought I would have that… it’s already the best birthday ever,” he replied quietly, a look of calm washing over his face.

-       MC beamed up at him before launching herself at him and assaulting his mouth with her own. “Let’s not forget… birthday boy gets to choose all the games we play today…” she teased. “Ahhh any game?” he chuckled, turning them over so she was pinned underneath him. Her smile widened as she nodded, her teeth worrying her bottom lip in excitement.

“So, if I wanted to play a game… naked in bed… you would play with me?” he asked as he bent down to nip at her exposed throat and collarbones. MC giggled her response as she automatically spread her legs so he could lay in between them. “That’s awesome! We can play naked Snap then!” he jeered as he got up to find the deck of cards.

“Oh… oh yay…Snap.”

-       Best. Birthday. Ever.

  Saeran:

-       “Honey! Happy-” “Don’t say it MC-” “But I just greeted your brother-” “Good for both of you- but seriously, don’t.”

-       Birthdays were always a hard time for Saeran. He had never had a good birthday in his entire life- why start now? It was just another crappy day, so why not treat it like another crappy day?

-       “What would you like to do?” his girlfriend asked him for the thousandth time that week. He knew she was trying to be thoughtful but all it did was grate on his nerves and if she didn’t stop soon, they’d have an argument. He took a deep breath in and stilled his emotions- she was trying to be nice, don’t repay kindness with ungratefulness.

-       “Honestly babe, I wanna go out to the park and go for a quiet walk- it would be nice if you came along, but it’s cool if you don’t. Then I wanna go and get something simple to eat- you know I’m not going to that damn restaurant Han booked. That’s going to end with him and Pretty Boy fighting and Saeyoung recording it and laughing like an idiot… I just… I just wanna chill,” he answered earnestly as his hands swept through his newly dyed pastel locks.

-       MC smiled and nodded, if that’s what he wanted- then that’s what he would get. Who was she to tell him how to spend his birthday?

-       She let him stay in bed as she delivered breakfast to him… a stack of pancakes with a lit pink and white candle, standing proudly in the middle.

-       Saeran looked up at her and bit back a smile- the woman was tenacious- he would give her that. Licking his fingers, the man pinched at the flickering flame before tucking into his breakfast.

-       After eating, MC joined him in the shower, enjoying the feel of her hands roaming over his body- massaging out the knots and tender spots over his neck and shoulders. Her nimble fingers combing at his wet scalp. Her body against his as they hugged under the warm spray of water.

-       When he was drying his hair, he didn’t notice her pop out of the bathroom, only to reappear with a cupcake and the same small candle from before- peeking out from under a pile of icing.

-       Saeran gave her a withering look before he pointed the hairdryer towards the flame and extinguished it.

-       The walk in the park was just what he wanted- the sky was blue and the clouds the perfect mix of wispy and puffy. He would look up and call out the different shapes he saw, “Oh! There’s Yoosung!” “Where?” “Up in the sky… see that one, the small, wimpy looking cloud- there he is. He just died in LOLOL…” “That’s one freaking specific cloud ‘Ran-Ran.” “Oh! And there’s one of The Idiot running after Han’s cat…” “Huh?”

“The stupidly shaped cloud over there trailing after the smaller stupider looking cloud?” “They all look the same…”

“That’s because everyone is stupid.” “Ahh… yes… how silly of me…”

-       MC spotted a man selling ice-cream and excused herself, rushing off to leave her man on the park bench- as he glared at anyone who thought it was a good idea to sit down beside him.

-       Shuffling back excitedly she came up to him with her hands behind her back, a proud smile spread across her face. Saeran stared up at her, his eyes slightly squinted as his gaze moved up and down her body. “I swear MC… if you’ve put that damned candle in my ice-cream…”

-       MC’s smile faltered as she revealed both cones, one with the same dejected candle. She looked away from him with a very visible pout on her lips as she blew out the flame. Huffing as she pulled out the small pink and white candle and put it back into her pocket, she handed him his mint chocolate chip ice cream cone.

-       As the day wore on with them still on the same park bench, Saeran was half asleep with his head perched upon his lover’s lap, her fingertips softly trailing swirling patterns at his temples and upon his brow as she read a book. The heat of the afternoon sun warmed him to his bones as a lazy, happy feeling coursed through his veins. This was perfect. Just, perfect.

-       He turned his head and nuzzled at MC’s stomach, eliciting an amused chuckle from his girlfriend… and then a loud rumble from her belly.

-       One eye snapped open to peer up at her, her face plastered with shock and her cheeks brighter than his brother’s hair.

-       He laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed.

-       It wasn’t even that funny but- he couldn’t stop laughing.

-       So, this is what it feels like, to be happy- for no reason… it’s nice.

-       Finding a quiet restaurant, the two huddled into the corner and picked off each other’s plates. He caught MC as she tried to smuggle the sad little pink and white candle off to one of the waitresses and his unimpressed look was all she needed to look sheepish and put the thing back into her pocket where it belonged (or the trash can if it were up to him).

-       They walked back home, Saeran’s arm draped nonchalantly over her shoulder, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair. As the setting sun’s colours danced over her skin, he smiled and held her to him even closer before he pressed a kiss to her temple and grinned into her hair. It truly is nice.

-       Stripped down to their underwear with MC in yet another one of his stolen shirts- they both crawled into bed and just stared at each other.

-       “Thank you,” he rasped as his hand ran over the dip in her waist. She looked at him and gave him a confused smile. “For what?” “For not pushing the whole birthday thing on me too much… and… and for trying to push the whole birthday thing on me too… maybe, maybe next year we can do something…” he trailed off, his cheeks burning in the darkness of their room. He was absolutely convinced he was practically glowing with embarrassment.

-       MC smiled as she pushed herself up to rest on her knees before she crawled over to the edge and picked something up from her bedside table. The sound of a lighter clicked and a bright blue flame turned orange… and that little pink and white candle was once again brought to life.  

-       “Make a wish baby,” she whispered, her face illuminated by the soft light, her kind (always so kind) smile and sweet eyes radiating with so much love Saeran could feel his throat close up against his will.

-       Scooting up the bed so his back rested against the headboard, Saeran crossed his arms and threw her one more apathetic look. At the sight of her waning smile he let out a bark of laughter before leaning in, looking up into her eyes and smiling- blowing out the candle.

-       “What did you wish for?” she asked after a minute of silence as they sat in the dark again.

-       Saeran smiled as he reached out for her again, yanking her back down to lay against his chest.

“I wished that I could have eaten that cupcake from this morning. That shit looked tasty as hell,” he joked, wincing as she slapped him gently across the chest.

-       You. I wished for you. To do this again next year. And then the next year. And the one after that. Forever.

-       …. And the cupcake too.

-       Because it was his birthday- it was the day to be selfish after all, right?