#promt is angel

[abblegum]

Wasn’t liking any of the concepts/ thumbnails i came up for this day but i did try so here

[mischievous-thunder]

Logie Bear's nesting btw

[nightmareb1tch]

Angelic Family

Give me prompts for the Angels in Dbs interacting and I will write it in ao3

[twiinkie]

Shadow's Cupid

[raywooposts]

Series 3 predictions.

- Shax and Fur Fur get together.

- Muriel becomes Archangel.

- Lindsay and Maggie are non human.

- Explosion of light in the flat bedroom when they get together. “I think people will notice if that happens every time” “ We better move to the country”. Maggie and Nina see and smile at each other “Finally”.

-Maggie & Nina take over the shop and becomes a book record and coffee shop.

- It ends as it began in THEIR garden.

- Wedding singer style open mouth church tongue kiss and then

- Naked backs with grabby hands. But that may be wishful thinking!

[animelucky]

Jackie and Alec have a frienemies dynamic. Sometimes they can be friends other times Alec’s cocky personality annoys her! Felt like using the dialogue from a drake and Josh episode as one version of a few ways we can get a confession out of them

Alec: Maybe you just what?

Jackie: maybe I just like you.

Alec: ma--maybe I just like you, Too.

Jackie: oh, really?

Alec: Yeah maybe I liked you for a while but you never noticed because you’re so annoyingly serious all the time!

Jackie: Are you saying you like me or not?

Alec: are you sayin' you like me Or not?

Jackie: I'm saying I like you.

Alec: well, then I'm sayin'I like you!

Jackie: fine!

Alec: fine!

Jackie: then I guess we're, Boyfriend and girlfriend!

Alec: one condition!

Jackie: what?!

Alec: I get to be the boyfriend!

[willie-18]

STORY CONCEPT IDEA:

An ANGEL who is a LAWYER, goes down to hell twice a year to present/defend a DEMON in the HEAVENLY COURTS. Yet so far no demons have resulted in REDEMPTION or have been RESTORED back into a former angel since the fall. None but one. A demon and a human are his closest friends. Finding ways to fix external sanctions (to spare sinners in the bottemless pits of hell) becomes a troubling journey. The ANGELS only goal is to "save" enough sinners until JESUS CHRIST comes down to EARTH and proclaim JUDGEMENT. Will the Angel and his friends bring mortal men and demons to justice? Will heaven open their gates once more to sinners? Will ANGELS and DEMONS agree on the same side?

(If an ANGEL must save everyone he loves, he must bend the Divine Law and risk breaking it.)

[arminsumi]

Why was i stressing over a promt when you have a whole list? *facepalm*

main nsfw #9 with aki? pretty please?

CAN'T STOP CRAVING IT

↳ AKI アキ + fem!reader

#9 : he's obsessed after his first time with you

[ Note ] : oh hehe 🤤💗 hope u likeyyy so sorry this is a bit late!!

[ Warnings ] : 🔞 MINORS DO NOT READ/INTERACT : contains 18+ content, public sex, toys (panty vibe in public), car sex, creampies, daddy kink if u squint, "sl*t"

Your boyfriend tries to act so cool about it, as if he isn't basically drooling when he catches a peek of the curve of your ass under your shorts. It's a hot summer, the hottest he's ever experienced because he had you for the first time.

Let's be honest; no one's ever made him feel as good as you do. So he can't stop craving you.

You'll be humming and going about your daily chores when suddenly Aki's smooth hand cups your pussy through your shorts, and his lips latch onto your neck. He'll give you hickeys, relishing in your moans as he marks you up.

"Angel... 'need you for a sec... can you come to the bedroom?" he always asks so innocently and then it leads to an hour later—

— you have your legs spread wide, Aki's hips snuggled between them as deep as he can be. He grips your hips tight and thinks they're his lifeline. His cock is getting milked and milked and he just can't get over how it feels to be inside you, to move his hips and elicit nasty sounds from both you and your squelching hole.

Aki's not shy in the bedroom. Not at all. He rubs on your clit and coos the dirtiest things into your ear, working up a sweat.

"Cum for me again, I wanna feel it." he groans, pushing ever deeper into your velvet walls.

He's still new to your pussy, yeah, he can't really find your G-spot yet with the tip of his cock but he really tries. Because Aki's ultimate goal is to make you scream "daddy" and squirt all over him. And if you know anything about him... it's that he's determined. Especially between your thighs.

Even outside the bedroom Aki is insatiable. He buys you a panty vibe one day and practically begs you on his knees to use it in public while the two of you meet up with friends.

You're sitting opposite a friend at dinner, talking as normally as possible while trying to ignore the buzzing sensation of the toy snuggled into your clit. And Aki's on his phone next to you playing with the settings of your vibe like it's a toy. He texts you after you cum;

Aki : ur so cute when u pretend ur not cumming in front of everyone like a slut :)

You : fuck you haha

Oh my god and you know, he has to fuck you in his car :( that's one of his all-time fantasies. He thought about it on one date with you. He's a smooth operator, he has you in his backseat, bent erotically for him, taking his cock as he gives it to you how you like; hard strokes with no breaks.

"Fuck... Aki... not so hard, you're making the car rock too much. We're gonna get caught." you moan.

"Y-yeah I know... 's hard... you feel so fucking good... s-so tight from behind..." he grunts and keeps stuffing your small cunt full of himself, big lanky body arching over you making you feel even smaller than usual.

And poor obsessive Aki... he can't just cum inside you once. No, he needs to drain his balls into your cunt until there's not a drop left... I mean, his reasoning is "where else does my cum belong other than inside you, baby?" so he always leaves you with multiple, gooey loads dripping down your slit. Sticky and thick. You and him quickly give up on buying condoms, because the feeling of getting filled up with his cum is too good to deny.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[cannibal-hound-fanart]

so. do the residents of hazbin hotel know who charlie’s third father is? i know we have the portrait in the foyer and Vaggie and Charlie share everything but. i think it’d be fucking hilarious if he shows up and everyone is floored. Charlie sweetie what do you mean that’s one of your parental figures.

Or maybe they’re like how in the fuck did this disney princess get raised by the radio demon and then Charlie does something a little feral and they’re like. ah. that’s how.

Also, what does Vox think of them? Does the rest of hell know? So many questions I have about this AU I adore it to death and your art so much!! lots of love 🫶🏽🫶🏽 ✨✨

- @loser-babey (because tumblr won’t let me send from my side blog)

There is Vaggie's and Angel's reactions to alastor being charlies Papa. I plan on making more comics because your promts are oh so good. more!

Hope you like it

[natasha-in-space]

✦ In The Dark ✦

Pairing: Suit!Saeran/gn!reader.

Summary: Power outages are never a pleasant hurdle to deal with, especially in a thunderstorm. Having to keep an eye on an annoying toy like you on top of that is a disaster waiting to happen. But Saeran is stubborn, and so are you.

Notes: 'Realizing you've reached the point of no return' promt for anon! Some heavy kissing and lots of conflicting feelings involved. You and Saeran have a rocky dynamic.

AO3 Link - 4k words.

Credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics.

"For God's sake, will you just shut the hell up already!?" 

Saeran's voice rang out harshly, the high-pitched tone bouncing off the walls of your room and hurting his own ears with its volume. The deafening rumble of thunder rattling the entirety of Magenta to its very foundation right after felt almost like a wordless retaliation of Mother Nature herself in response to his outburst. He certainly interpreted it that way. Right now, it felt like everything was purposefully trying to get under his skin. And it was working. 

Despite his full intention of hopefully scaring you off enough to finally make you go silent on him, his voice came out way harsher than he intended. Which only added to Saeran's steadily growing restlessness and frustration as he turned away from you, raking a hand through his tousled hair for the upten time already, his fingers shaky and his knees weak. 

He never liked rainstorms, and he especially did not like thunderstorms. No matter how old he got and how strong he grew, one boom of thunder would instantly send his heart flying up into his throat, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and slither away into some faraway dark corner where it's safe. And that's no way for the strongest member of Mint Eye to think or feel. 

Saeran hated rainstorms because they were a cruel reminder of a weakness he couldn't overcome, no matter how hard he tried. 

He never liked you, either. Not one bit. In fact, he despised you. You were a damn thorn in his side, nothing but stubborn and infuriating since day one of his introduction to you. Always having way too much to say and refusing to back down no matter how hard he pushed. It was like the two of you were always at each other's throats, bickering and fighting over the smallest of things. And, really, that would be fine with him. Hell, that would be great, actually. Saeran would love nothing more than to laugh straight in Ray's face the moment his precious innocent angel turned out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

No, what he hated the most about you, was how, despite all your senseless squabbling with him, you were never truly cruel to him. You would throw his harsh words and insults right back into his face, but you never put him down. You would get smart with him for the sake of nothing but getting on his nerves, but you never kicked him when he was down. He couldn't understand you. How you could be so damn assertive and cocky without having to be cruel like him.

Much like rainstorms, you were a constant glaring reminder of his weaknesses. It goes without saying that putting the two together would leave him on edge, to say the least. 

So the fact that he was now pretty much stuck alone with you in the cramped space of your room for God knows how long? With nothing but your annoying presence, your petty comments, the stupidly pink colors of your room, and your maddening scent to keep him company?

To say that Saeran was in a sour mood would be like saying nothing at all.

Of course, no one was making him stay here. But he wasn't naive enough to let you out of his sight during a power outage. Like hell he would. He just knew you'd try to do something stupid and annoying, as you always do. Like escaping. Or making him look bad in front of the Savior on purpose as revenge for everything he put you through. Or sabotaging their paradise by seeking out that cursed liar that was like a cockroach you couldn't kill no matter how much you stomp on it with the heel of your boot. Just because you never tried doing any of that before didn't mean he would let his guard down for you. He knew you'd take advantage of that as soon as you could.

Not on his watch, you won't. He was going to sit right here with you and watch over your every move until he could continue to do so from his cameras like usual. Even if the sight of you was as irritating as a fly buzzing in front of the screen. 

Though what he truly hated the most about this entire predicament was how you somehow managed to make him look like the more anxious one between the two of you. 

Because he wasn't anxious.

Not one bit. 

And the booming sounds of thunder rumbling through Magenta had no effect on him. 

Nor was he on edge because of the storm outside throwing long branches of surrounding trees against your window with every gust of wind.

It was you.

It was always you.

Everything was your fault.

“-No, I will not shut up,” you grumbled, pulling him out of his angry spiral. Your arms were crossed over your chest defiantly as you huffed and shifted in the chair you were seated in, your eyes following his every move as he paced around your room like a lion in a cage. The chair creaked and groaned under your weight, the sound only irritating him further. A small part of him thought of stealing that damn chair from you and making you stand just for the sake of it, but that was way too childish even for him. At least he could see that it was kind of uncomfortable for you. The back wasn't tall enough to reach your shoulders correctly, making your back a bit stiff. Or maybe it was his presence making you tense up so much. He could live with that. Though, that self-assured look you were giving him was really getting on his nerves. “It’s not my fault you guys forgot to schedule a thunderstorm into your plans. And I'm not forcing you to stay here, either. So quit yelling at me already.”

Did you have to always talk back to him like that?

"Well, it's not my damn fault either,” he snapped back at you as he moved away from the wall he was currently leaning against, stomping up to your bed, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs, betraying the exhaustion he was feeling on the inside. God, he hated how soft and inviting that bed of yours looked. Like a forbidden fruit calling out for him to give in and try a taste of its promise of rest. He hated how you could snuggle up under those plush bedsheets comfortably while he was left to sleep, sitting at his desk for thirty minutes at most. Suffering from nightmares more often than not on top of that. So, he falls back onto your bed unceremoniously, feeling the soft material welcome his added weight as it dips under him.

He was only able to lie back for a minute, though, your scent quickly assaulting him stronger than ever before, making him get up again and start pacing around your room, agitation rolling off of him in waves. His irritability was increasing by the second, and you were the only one he could turn his anger towards. As you often were.

“But you're still pissing me off.”

“-Oh, I’m pissing you off, am I?” 

His head snapped in your direction, watching you stand up from your seat, crossing your arms again. Deep down, he knew he was being unfair to you, really. Of course he knew that. Saeran wasn't an idiot, nor was he naive. In a way, that was the point of it all. And he sure hoped you would finally break and prove him right. Give him something he could throw back into Ray's stupid face next time he whines about you being this devoted and perfect angel that cares for them in a way no one else did. 

That was just a load of bullshit.

So, he let you walk up to him, a heated glare to your eyes that rivaled his own. Some part of him was expecting you to hit him, his muscles tightening up under his tight suit like a coiled spring, fully ready on jerking away and covering his face in a movement that was way too familiar to him. Instead, you simply leaned towards him, backing him up against the wall until his back gently bumped against the smooth surface, your hands now resting on both sides of his arms, caging him in. Though, there was still a significant distance between the two of you. You weren't necessarily looking down at him, nor were you trying to make him shrink away from you. 

A big part of him wished you did.

“You’re the one who came here, Saeran. I told you I wouldn't do anything. You just never listen to me." Your annoyed voice practically hissed into his ear, your breath fanning across his skin in warm puffs of air, contrasting against the anxious chill overtaking his body. He suppressed a shiver. He figured it was a shiver of disgust. It must have been. He sneers, his nose scrunching up in displeasure as he returns your heated glare with one of his own, his shoulders squared and his chin raised up high, refusing to show any weakness. 

“What, and listen to you? Don't make me laugh." Saeran mocked, pushing back against you, his eyes narrowing with simmering frustration that was just waiting to spill free, like a bubbling cauldron slowly coming to a boil. He leaned in so he could be eye-to-eye with you, not being intimidated in the slightest. Because that's what you were doing to him, surely. Trying to intimidate him. Scare him off. Break him. Well, he wouldn't let you. He tilted his head to look at you, his gaze filled with a silent challenge. “Forgive me for not taking orders from someone who's only good enough to be a helpless prince/ss and a useless toy."

A cocky smirk pulled at the corners of his lips as another teasing comment flew off the tip of his tongue with ease, fully intent on getting under your skin and riling you up further. Although his tone was mocking, his body was tense, his palms sweaty as he balled his hands up into tight fists. You backing him into a wall with your face so close to his didn't help at all with the rising tension in his muscles whatsoever. If anything, it made it worse. 

He was struggling to gather his thoughts, which only made him feel even more angry. Both with you and himself. He was usually very in charge of himself when he was in front of the other believers, but having you here—being pressed right up against him like this—left him completely unprepared. He had to struggle to stop himself from staring at your lips, a notion that scared and confused him all the same.

Much to his frustration, however, your lips only tugged upwards with a slight smirk of your own in response to his attempts at getting back at you. The fact that he almost had to look up at you in order to even glare at you properly pissed him off quite a bit. He did not like feeling small. He wanted you to think that he was big and imposing. Not someone who could be backed into a corner and looked down at. But you kept him firmly against the wall, preventing him from walking away without you directly letting him. It was supposed to be the other way around. And, in a way, he recognized that this was not the first time you were like this. Only your roles were reversed. And now it was you making him feel smaller than he really was. 

As his head tilted back, your own leaned in even closer to him, the smirk on your face only growing bigger. He'd like to say that it was cruel and mocking, but it was really more playful and amused. Which wasn't much better, considering the circumstances.

“...You sure have a sharp tongue, I'll give you that.”

He was making a genuine effort to ignore you now. He really was, but he felt his control slipping through his fingers like sand as your face got so impossibly close to his. He shifted against you, his jaw locked in place as he stubbornly looked away from you now instead of holding your gaze, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of seeing him break. In part, because he was breaking. His breathing was starting to get a little labored as he tensed, his arms twitching with the need to either pull you closer and pin you against this damn wall to show you who's really in charge here or grab you by the waist and shove you away so that his heart stopped beating so impossibly heavy in his chest. He didn't know which one of the two he would choose when push comes to shove, and that indecisiveness was making him more anxious than he was willing to admit. 

“And you're acting like you're in charge, stupid toy. Again.” His retort wasn't nearly as sharp of a response as he was hoping for, but his brain was far too jumbled to come up with anything more coherent. 

Your smirk faded and a frustrated frown took its place. Despite his initial glee at your annoyance with him, he really didn’t like it when you challenged him or disrespected him like this. Then again, he didn't like you no matter what you did. The main reason your presence was so damn infuriating to him. You looked like you really wanted him to shut up. A sentiment that was mutual on his part. But before he could muster up some other cold remark to crush that spirit of yours, you suddenly placed one of your hands down on his hip without giving him much of a warning. His breath stuttered slightly in his throat, his fingers twitching at his sides as he looked down at your face, eyes widening. The force with which he was clenching his jaw was causing it to ache slightly, but he refused to relax.

What were you getting at here? And why did your touch feel like hot iron being pressed up into his side? Or was it his body that was suddenly far too warm for comfort?

What were you doing to him...? 

You leaned in even further until your face was almost level with his, your breath mixing with his and fanning against his skin gently. 

“...Watch it. Or I might just shut that sharp mouth of yours up myself.” Your voice lowered into a low whisper as you spoke, a quiet warning. Or a promise. He couldn't really tell. Being so close to you made it more difficult to think clearly. He opened his mouth to say something, to protest against your audacity to speak to him in such a bold manner, yet nothing but a shaky exhale came out. His mind felt too empty and full at the same time, his eyes subconsciously darting down to your lips for the second time. A notion that you definitely took notice of, judging by how intently those eyes of yours were watching him. When the thick silence between the two of you remained unbroken for another long minute, you continued, your thigh now gently and slowly sliding between his legs to rest your knee against the wall behind him, bringing your body that much closer to him. Your scent hit his nostrils like a hurricane that made his head spin. "Or maybe... that's what you want me to do...? To make you stop thinking for a while?" 

He knew you wanted him to shut up and let you win this. But he was not going to let you. And this ploy of yours, whatever it was, was bound to fail. So, he was quick to open his mouth to retort with some sort of insult that would hopefully put you in your place. That’s when he saw it in your eyes. A sort of 'screw it' look, one you'd get when you felt like you had nothing to lose. And then you leaned forward just a tiny bit further and took hold of his chin with your free hand, making him look at you directly. He was prevented from doing or saying anything more by you practically slamming your lips against his, making him gasp sharply against your mouth.

It killed any words he had on his tongue. It took Saeran a second to process what you were-

Oh.

It was like a switch got flipped off inside his head. One part of him was utterly stunned and lost. The last thing he expected was for you to go and kiss him. Without him prompting for it or you pleading for your sweet Ray to return. Was this what you meant when you said you were going to shut him up? He knew of screaming at someone or hitting them to do that, but kissing? There must be something seriously wrong with you. 

And what's worse is that you were not kissing him like you kissed Ray out in the garden. This was rougher, more fervent, and raw. This was a memory being created between him and you. Not a recreation of something that already happened. And Saeran did not know how to deal with that. How to accept that you were kissing him. As Saeran. The same Saeran that did everything he possibly could to make you break, to hurt you, to use you to feel strong and invisible. 

Your lips were warm and soft against him, even as you pressed them against him with more force than he expected. There was no pain in this action. He didn't know much, if anything, about kissing. What to do, or how to reciprocate. But a big part of him expected you to sink your teeth into his lip and draw blood. You didn't. You were simply brushing your lips against his, the hot touch making his blood boil in his veins. You didn't go any further than that, starting to pull back from him all too soon. Maybe because he just stood there, frozen as a statue.

He didn't want that. 

He didn't want to confront what you just did or what it meant. 

He didn't want to admit to himself that he wanted more—to explore what this connection between you would bring. A connection between him and you. Between Saeran and you. He refused to admit that he wanted to know what it feels like to be Saeran, and not a tool or a shield.

That's a wish he couldn't allow himself to fulfill. And in some backwards streak of desperation to avoid dealing with all these feelings that were about to swallow him whole, he refused to let this end.

He switches immediately, his hand moving to the back of your head as he pulled your body flush against his and chased after your lips before you could pull back from him completely. He didn't give his action much thought. It was clumsy and desperate, his movements making it crystal clear he had no idea what he was doing, teeth clashing together and lips smacking at an awkward angle. He hated that you had the upper hand on him even here. You seemed surprised by his rather intense reciprocation, a muffled noise of surprise escaping you, but you don't push him away. You kissed him back, your own hand raising to cup his cheek, and he did his best to follow your movements, copying your motions the best he could. 

His hand on the back of your head grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging on it slightly, making you emit a brief hiss into his mouth, one that he hungrily swallowed, his heart left stuttering in his chest for a completely different reason from before. It made him feel alive. He wanted more of it. More of you.  His other hand found your thigh on a primal whim, and he grabbed at it absentmindedly, to which you lifted it up to wrap it around his waist, the increased closeness between you two making him shudder against you, something between a whine and a growl rumbling at the back of his throat. He was not thinking clearly at all; he just knew he wanted you to be as close to him as possible right now.

To make the deafening thundering of his heart against his ribcage draw out the roaring of the storm outside that kept him so on edge in the first place. To stop him from thinking. He wanted his head blissfully empty for once in his miserable existence.

Only you.

Your touch.

Your warmth.

Your smell.

You.

He pushed you backwards, breaking the kiss for just long enough to stumble you both to the bed, pushing you down onto your back without a word being spoken, and climbing on top of you immediately.

You managed a quiet grunt, your eyes widening as he climbed on top of you. Feeling your shared weight dip the soft blankets and bedsheets of the bed, he let out a small noise of protest as you wordlessly rest your palms against his chest, preventing him from diving for another kiss with you. Your lips were parted as you finally regained your breathing a bit. Whether that was from the kiss itself or the sheer emotional intensity of what this all meant for you both from then on, he didn't know. A soft, slightly shaky exhale escaped you both almost in unison, and he was now left to stare down at you as your chest rises and falls slowly. Your expression was a mix of surprise and desire as you looked up at him, stunned and mesmerized. And that... scared him. It scared him because he hadn't expected you to like being close with him like that. He wasn't Ray right now. He wasn't even trying to pretend to be Ray for you. He was just... Saeran. In all his messiness and ugliness. 

And, most of all, it scared him because it felt so goddamn good. Because your warmth made all the buzzing thoughts that were constantly screaming at him at the back of his own skull quiet down. You were crumbling his fragile facade into a thousand pieces. And you were simultaneously making him feel more at ease with that than he ever felt.

He definitely was not expecting you to be so bold, either. It goes without saying that his goal of making you terrified of him has failed rather spectacularly. 

Your hand found its way to his waist again, resting just over his hip. Surely you could feel just how thin and boney he was under this tight-fitting suit. The truth of him being far weaker than he let on. But you didn't grab at him, nor did you push him off. Your fingers just squeezed him enough for him to feel the heat from your palm seeping through the multiple layers of clothing, soothing his cold skin.

“...What happened to the snarky comments? Feeling a little speechless now, are we?” you flirted, breaking through the silence, your voice coming out in a breathless murmur. The hand on his hip moved and settled over his stomach, with your thumb tracing a small circle against him. He shivered, his breath hitching sharply.

He had a hard time overlooking just how good you looked sprawled beneath him like him. The sight alone was making his suit feel a bit hotter than it should. You looked almost ethereal like this. Nothing but the faint light from the window eluminating your features, an occasional flash of lightning giving him just the briefest of glimpses of you as a whole. Your lips parted just slightly, reddened in color from the heated kiss you've just shared with him, your cheeks a noticeably deeper shade than they were before. Your eyes half-lidded and twinkling as they looked back at him. Seeing him. Not Ray. Him. 

He made you look like this. 

Saeran swallowed, his hands shaking as they rested against the plush mattress on either side of your head. He knew, in that singular moment, as he tried his damnest to even out his breathing, that there was no coming back from this. You saw his weakness, and he did nothing against it. 

And he liked it. 

"You... I hate you," he muttered, his voice hoarse and shaky, barely audible over the sound of rain drumming against the window.

"No, you don't," you simply responded, your free hand reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb swiping just under his eye. He grabbed at your hand, keeping it there. He did not argue with you.

"...Kiss me again." 

[yourlocalravendork]

✭Garcia and Morgan's matchmaking service✭

Spencer x Fem!reader

AN: This is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins undercover challenge. It is also another story in the accidental date series (this is the only one with a Fem! Reader, the rest are gn) however can be read as a one shot and is loosely inspired by the episode Snake Eyes because gambler Reid, need I say more? I definitely got a bit carried away writing so it's a long one.

Part 1 2 3

CW: mentions of gambling, heavy themes of religion, cannon typical violence, autistic coded Spencer (because I headcanon him as on the spectrum)

Promt: “I’m just acting.” / “Oh? So you can make your heart race on command?”

It started as an isolated incident, as all killings did. A call girl and a gambler dead in a hotel over in Palm Springs, California. The girl was laid out on the bed, blankets as makeshift wings and arms crossed over her front. The gambler? A bloody pile of limbs with the words 'Temptation' scored into his arm. Then again, only in a different hotel. And again. And by the fourth victim, the BAU was called in.

"Here's the rundown my crime fighting cuties," Penelope said, bringing up the photos of the latest victims, "Henry Heart and Vanessa Anderson were found dead in Henry's hotel room in Palm Springs." With a press of a button, the screen changed. Gone were the victim's smiling faces, replaced with the gory scene of the crime. This was the usual for you. Gory scenes and the darkest corners of the human psyche. "And the cherry on this disgusting cake is the fact that this has happened to six other people, all in the same set up. A call girl and a gambler. The girls all laid to rest, the men with 'Temptation' carved in their arm. All kinds of yuck," Penelope said with a small shiver. "The women being laid to rest could be a sign of remorse," Derek offered. Spencer went to open his mouth to talk but you were one step ahead of him. "The blankets almost look like angel wings, that could be symbolic of the unsub thinking they were pure, hence the men being labeled as temptations." Spencer couldn't help but smile like a lovesick fool as you spoke. Of course, he always appreciated your inputs, but after the past few months, he found himself appreciating them more, watching the way your lips moved to form words. "But they weren't exactly pure," Emily countered, "They were call girls. I don't know about you, but that profession isn't exactly the most pure out there." "We could be looking at a woman unsub. Seeing the women as victims of circumstance and blaming the men for them being in that position," JJ shrugged. "Whatever it is, we need to get to California. Wheels up in 30," Hotch said, dismissing the room.

Spencer was hobbling back to his desk, still on crutches from his gunshot injury. His physio therapist said he was getting on well. So well that he was allowed back on the jet. Sure, he wasn't involved in any of the take downs, but at least he could work in the local PD. "Hey, Spence," you smiled, catching up to him, "You need a hand with your to go bag?" What the two of you had, Spencer wasn't entirely sure what it was. You'd been on two dates, well one official and one accidental, yet neither of you had really talked about the feelings that were there for each other. "Uh, yeah, that would help… That would help a lot," Spencer said, trying not to stutter and stumble over his words. Another soft smile directed to Spencer from you. One more and Spencer was sure he'd go into cardiac arrest. "It's just under my desk," Spencer pointed with his crutch. As you bent down to grab it, Spencer awkwardly averted his gaze. He didn't say it so he could see that. Truthfully, if he was thinking it through, he would've insisted that he could've done it. But it was that damn smile of yours. You grabbed it and sprung back up with a smile. "Ready to go?" you asked, completely oblivious to the effect you had on him. "Y… Yeah," he nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Casinos, huh, pretty boy will be right at home then," Derek teased once they were in the air. This was inevitable. It seemed every case that involved gambling, casinos or Vegas, Spencer would be subjected to the teasings of his coworkers. He'd grow accustomed to it now. "Very funny, Morgan," Spencer rolled his eyes. Before Derek had a chance to reply, Hotch's usual authoritve tone cut across the jet cabin. "Reid might prove to be a valuable asset in this case." "Right my fine feathered friends," Garcia's voice filled the speakers, "I have sent everything I have found on your victims to your tablets. We have our Henry and Vanessa. Henry was divorced and decided to spend his prenup on a little gambling trip and Vanessa had been working as a call girl for three years and lived alone. Then we had Oscar and Ella. Oscar was on his bachelor trip and was supposed to get married last week and Ella, similar story to Vanessa, living alone and working as a call girl for three years. In fact, it's the same story for all the call girls. Then the other two victims were James and Michael. James was married and his wife didn't even know that he was in Palm Springs and Michael was halfway through a rather messy divorce." The team mulled over the information. There was a connection between all the male victims, marriage. That was definitely something to take into consideration. "It's not just me who sees the whole marriage connection?" Emily said, looking up from her tablet. There was a mumble of agreement from the rest of the team. "That does seem to be the only real connection these victims have. I think it would be wise to follow that lead. Derek and Emily will go and speak to Henry's ex wife, JJ, Rossi and I will go to the latest crime scene, and you two can start working on the geographic profile." Hotch dished out roles and you couldn't help but smile at Spencer. Just the two of you in the local PD, pouring over maps. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy with that.

After initial introductions, you and Spencer were getting settled, finding maps and colour coding certain areas. "The hotels are all in a comfortable distance," you observed, noting the proximity of the crime scenes. "However the unsub definitely has a vehicle. That's just too far to walk and still have the energy to kill someone," Spencer pointed out. You hummed in agreement. "It's rather funny that I'm working the geographic profile with you, considering my dislike for geography," You said with a soft laugh, placing a pushpin in the map, marking a potential next dumpsite, "I've always been more partial to history." With that, Spencer perked up. History? He loved history. "What's your favourite era?" he asked before being interrupted by a local police officer. There went a potential bonding experience.

The case was dragging on. It was late, far too late and the team was surviving on shitty coffee and fast food. Henry's ex wife wasn't much help. She didn't want anything to do with him so that was a dead end. It wasn't like they could follow up with Vanessa either. Hence why the team was sat, half asleep at the table, wishing for a lead. "Get some sleep everyone," Hotch said, a tired tone in his voice, "You two can go to the casino tomorrow, see if anyone saw them leaving." Hotch pointed to Spencer and you. That would be nice.

The next morning, the two of you were heading down to the SUV, a spring in your step. There was no reason for it, but something just felt right today. The two of you climbed in and you made sure that Spencer was alright with his knee brace. "You're not going to get us kicked out, are you?" you teased, poking fun at the fact he was banned from all of the casinos in Las Vegas. "You're just as bad as Morgan, you know," Spencer quipped back with a soft laugh. "Come on, Spence, you can't expect us to work a case in a casino and us not poke fun at the fact you're a Vegas boy." That earned a weak eyeroll from him. You could see he didn't really mind.

As you were driving, you could see Spencer subtly grabbing at the handle above the door. You weren't that bad at driving but Spencer seemed to think otherwise. Mentally, he was doing all the stopping distance calculations, seeing if you guys would be safe. You had to admit, it was endearing. Reaching over, you patted his thigh, "Relax, genius, I'm not going to get us killed." Your laugh echoed through the car but all Spencer could focus on was the section of this thigh that felt like it was on fire. He hadn't expected that. Your hand, his thigh. He was a grown man for Christ's sake, he shouldn't be getting this flustered.

Spencer hobbled in after you, the familiar sounds of slot machines and the eyesore of a carpet overstimulated the young genius, yet he prevailed. "Lookie, lookie, you two feeling lucky? Wanna expand your fortune?" a voice asked, emerging from the rows of flashing machines. "We're FBI," You said, pulling out your badges, "We wanted to ask if we could have a look at your security footage from a few nights ago." "Well, she's got you on a tight leash, has to she?" the man said, only paying attention to Spencer, "Or are you one of those lads that like being bossed around?" You could feel your blood boiling at the disrespect. You'd never liked casinos, this owner was only giving you a further reason to hate them. Trying to get a word in, the owner held a hand to your lips, "Let the wounded puppy talk," he said, a sarcastically sweet smile on his lips. The audacity of this man. It was clear he wasn't going to speak with you. "I'm Dr Spencer Reid, like my partner said, we're with the FBI. There was a couple that was killed in the hotel across the road and we just wanted to look through your security footage to see if we could gather any information," Spencer explained, trying not to stutter. It was clear he was far from impressed with this man's attitude. "Yeah, I heard about that. Real shame really. She was pretty too, brought in quite a few regulars even," the owner said with a shake of his head, "This way then, agents."

There was something off with the casino owner. He was just slimy. Openly sexist, dodgy dealing and so condescending. Spencer had an almost instantaneous disliking towards him. The office where they kept their security footage was small and dingy. It was awful. Spencer could barely fit with his crutches. But you two squeezed in together. Spencer tried to ignore how close you were to him, how your arm was brushing against his, how the desk chairs were so close together you might as well sat on his lap. God he felt like a schoolboy with a crush all over again. After sifting through hours of footage, you couldn't exactly see anything. It was a busy night and most people were focusing solely on their winnings. You let out a small groan after the footage ended. Yet another dead end.

When you explained it to Hotch, he was just as frustrated as the two of you. This killer was good, that much was clear. It was yet another night of shitty coffee and fast food when Emily suggested an idea. "How about we go undercover at some nearby casinos. I mean, Reid has figured out an area of comfort, him and I could go to one and Derek could go with you to another," Emily suggested. Hotch seemed to be debating on that idea. Undercover. It wasn't something they usually did, but if it would help draw out the unsub then they had to play their cards right. "How about I go with Emily?" Derek suggested, his usual tomcat smirk appearing. Spencer knew what he was doing. Setting him up to go off with you. Spencer wasn't sure if he wanted to throttle or thank Derek. Having you dress as a call girl, draping over him like a blanket most of the night. It was a dream come true. If it wasn't for work. Instead it would just be a nightmare. "I can't go into the field, I'm on crutches," Spencer protested. "You can have a cane. Looking like one of those really high class gamblers," JJ suggested. That earned a murmur of agreement from the team. You were one of the few that were quite. You too weren't sure if you wanted to throttle or thank Derek, although you were leaning more on the throttle side. "Then it's settled then," Hotch nodded, "Morgan and Prentiss, you take this casino, you two take the other," he added, pointing to the map. You and Spencer had the more high end casino, meaning the both of you would be dressed to the nines.

"Do I have to wear this?" you complained from the bathroom stall, pulling up the dress Garcia had sent over to you. Of course, the local PD didn't exactly have a proper changing room, therefore you and Emily were getting ready in the bathroom of the precinct. Not exactly glamorous, but you had to work with what you had. "Oh come on, it can't be that bad," JJ chuckled with a soft shake of her head. Opening the bathroom door, you stood there, a slightly disgruntled look on your face. The dress you were wearing was stunning. Tight with a slit at the leg and it was strapless. Something that would definitely turn heads. The attention you would draw to yourself was something you were already dreading. "I feel stupid," you huffed, heels clicking on the tiled floor. Emily came out of her stall, not complaining at all. She seemed to be getting into this role effortlessly. "You look stunning," Emily pointed out, heading over to the mirror to do her makeup.

Spencer felt so out of place changing into his suit. It was too tailored for his liking. He'd much prefer the comfort of his cardigans. "Are suits always this itchy?" Spencer complained to Derek. That earned him a laugh, which, in turn, earnt an eyeroll from Spencer. "I'm being serious. It's like a sensory overload in this thing." "Kid, relax," Derek said with a soft chuckle. He walked over and fixed the lapels on Spencer's suit. At the proximity, Derek could see the worry and stress in Spencer's eyes. Telling him to relax just wasn't going to work. "How can I relax? The label of my shirt is itching the back of my neck and I'm going undercover. I shouldn't even be in the field," Spencer began to ramble. Derek put his hands on Spencer's shoulders to stop him from getting to much into his own head. "Hey, pretty boy, this isn't all about the suit, is it?" Derek asked, a knowing glint in his eye. "I mean, partly it is because have you felt how uncomfortable this suit jacket is? It's like I can feel every fiber personally annoying every skin cell," Spencer continued to press. "It's because you're paired up with-" Before Derek could finish the sentence, Spencer cut him off. "Where would you… No… You're making things up," Spencer stuttered, his voice raising a few octaves. That only confirmed Derek's theory. "Why do you think I offered you and them up?" Derek chuckled. So Spencer was right. This was Derek's plan all along. "I'm going to kill you," Spencer mumbled. "Oh you can, pretty boy," Derek smirked, "After we catch this unsub."

Spencer was still fiddling with his suit, waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. His crutch was  replaced by a rather expensive looking cane and his suit looked far too expensive than normal. He was not ready for how stunning you looked. It was like his breath was taken from his lungs. "I don't like it," you mumbled and your voice snapped Spencer out of his trance. "What?" Spencer asked, trying to hide the disbelief in his voice. Spencer definitely liked it. It was far from your usual style, but you still looked beautiful. "It's too…" You pause for a second, trying to find the right word, "Flashy." You kept pulling at the dress, trying to make it more modest. That was mission impossible. "Damn, mama," Derek smirked, clearly amused at how out of your element you were. "Can it, Morgan," you retorted, "Lets just get this over and done with."

The casino was filled with bright lights and loud noises. Pair that with the suit he was wearing, Spencer felt like he was in his own personal hell. Sure, he'd grown up in Vegas, sure, he'd been banned from every casino there, but this? This was horrendous. He could physically feel the pressure mounting on him. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to stay on alert.

He took a seat at one of the poker tables. You were on the other side of the casino, draping over some random man. Spencer had to quell the jealousy in his stomach when he saw you acting so seductive so effortlessly, but with someone else. You were just doing your job. Spencer, predictably, was winning hand after hand. Straights, flushes, all because of the card counting. Of course, he had to throw a few games. Make it seem more believable. But other than that, it was fun for him. Just doing math and winning. He made sure to make a few jokes about the divorce mentioned in his cover story, loud enough for the potential unsub to hear.

"Hey honey," you mumbled loud enough for the rest of the table to hear, "You're on quite the hot streak." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, effortlessly leaning into him. You looked every bit the call girl. Spencer could feel his heart beat spike. This wasn't the same as your shy touches. No, this was more intense. "You alright?" you whispered into Spencer's ear. "Yeah, I'm just acting," Spencer whispered back. It was good. It was really selling the gambling and call girl facade. "Oh, so you can make your heart race on command?" you teased with a natural playful smirk. This was far from the usual anxious version of you. This was a side Spencer had never seen before.

After a few hours, you'd realised you were being watched. The unsub wasn't moving though. If you were to draw him out, the two of you had to move. "Spence, win this round then we'll make it look like we're going to the hotel across the street. We're being watched," You whispered, watching his cards in his hand. You weren't superstitious, but you couldn't help but feel sick at the sight of the ace of spades. The dead man's card. Your arm remained draped around Spencer as he excused himself from the table. As you two made your way out to the front of the casino, the unsub began to follow the two of you.

In the hotel room, that's where you'd decided to catch the unsub. So the two of you were pacing, waiting for the unsub. A knock on the door stopped you in your tracks. "Room service," a man's voice called out. Spencer and you shared a look. You walked over to Spencer, ruffling his hair and clothes, before doing the same to yourself and smearing your lipstick so it looked like the unsub had caught you two in a heated moment. Then, taking a deep breath, you opened the door. There stood a man. He had a crazed look in his eyes and within an instant you clocked him as the man watching the two of you in the casino. "You poor angel," he started, no introductions, just straight up caressing your face, "Look what these men do to you. They taint you. You are pure, you know you are. It is the filth that is the problem. Don't you worry, oh don't you worry you sweet angel, God will welcome you back with open arms." You were immediately uncomfortable with how much he was touching you. Brushing hair out of your face, treating you like a doll. Spencer felt a pang of jealousy but was forced to ignore it. The two of you were in potential danger. "Hotch, we need back up," Spencer mumbled into his earpiece, quiet enough so the unsub didn't hear him. "As for him," the unsub pointed a finger over at Spencer, "He was sinned. He will pay. The good Lord will turn him away from the pearly gates and he will suffer for the sins he has committed. He is temptation, leading good women like you away from the path of God. First getting a divorce, separating a holy union as if it was nothing, and now this. Tempting you like the snake tempted Eve." He grabbed you and started leading you over to the bed. After he'd sat you down there, he pulled out a carrier bag, no doubt planning on suffocating you, giving you the less gruesome death. Spencer wasted no time drawing his gun. "Put the bag down and step away." There was a sense of authority in his voice which was rare. You were just counting down the minutes until backup showed up. "What? Are you going to add murder to your list of sins too?" the unsub taunted. At that brief distraction, you swung one of your legs to sweep the unsub's and watched him crumble to the floor. You rested a heeled foot on him, stiletto pressing down just enough to feel discomfort. The unsub reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife then proceeded to attempt to slash at your leg. "You harlot! You're just as bad as he is," the unsub taunted. "FBI, drop the weapon." The familiar sound of Hotch's voice was a relief. The unsub froze, almost as if unsure what to do. With this newfound opening, you kicked the knife out of his hands and away from him. Hotch walked over and pulled the unsub off the ground, putting cuffs on him as the unsub cried out threats and warnings. "The good Lord will make you pay. You will all pay for your sins when you are burning in hell."

On the plane ride home, you were quiet. Everyone else was asleep, aside from Hotch. Naturally he was doing paperwork. You stared out of the jet window, a contemplative look on your face. You were so absorbed in your own little world that you didn't even notice that Spencer had taken a seat opposite you. "You looked nice this mission," Spencer mumbled, as if unsure to actually say it. There it was, the endearing awkwardness you'd fallen for. "Thank you. Although I'm sure it was all a set up on Penelope and Derek's side," You said with a soft laugh. "How so?" Spencer asked, cocking his head. "Well, Derek practically insisted that I was to be partnered with you and Penelope sent in a dress she said I would look stunning in, despite there being plenty of shops nearby to buy my own dress. It's like they were trying to set us up." It was clear now to Spencer that was the plan. God, he was going to kill Derek. However, he had to respect how smart the plan was. So maybe he'd have to begrudgingly thank him. You let out a small yawn and Spencer was snapped out of his haze. "You tired?" Spencer asked, his voice taking on a softer tone. "A little," You nodded. With that, Spencer got up and walked over to sit next to you. He wasn't sure where this bout of confidence came from but he was about to cash in on it. "Then sleep," Spencer offered. It didn't take you too long to rest your head on his shoulder and drop off to sleep. As Spencer looked down at you, he smiled softly. Inside, he was freaking out. You were asleep on his shoulder. It felt like the best day ever. From across the jet cabin, Derek just watched with a proud smile on his face, already planning on debriefing Penelope on how well their plan went.

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade definitely knows how to reassure his Kitty Princess

[cal-flakes]

promt 32 with dealer rafe n bimbo reader

╰┈➤ prompt thirty-two, dealer!rafe

warnings: light swearing, mentions of drugs, fluff.

giggling to herself, she fidgeted with the hem of the oversized t-shirt covering her as she skipped through the living room, a search for her boyfriend ensuing. “rafe?” she called, looking around the empty room, brows furrowed. “yeah baby?” he called back. sighing in relief, she padded eagerly through to the kitchen, her eyes widening at the scene in front of her.

rafe sat at the kitchen island, shirtless, as he crouched over the pile of white resting on the scales, delicately going back and forth between little plastic bags to fill and weigh them. upon her arrival, he slouched back against the chair, a grin on his face as he met her eyes.

“you look nice” he smirked, noting her lack of underwear when she shuffled round to his side, allowing him to cup her behind with a strong hand. “thank you..” she smiled, placing her forehead on his chest. “so, you know how you love me?”

“oh god, what do you want?” he sighed playfully, pulling away to glance at her hopeful eyes for a second, soon returning to the tedious task that littered his kitchen island. she gasped quickly, holding a hand up to her heart jokingly. “who said i wanted something?” y/n frowned, folding her arms over her chest. “do you not want something?” he retorted, blue eyes fixed on the scales in front of him.

“well i-” she started, grimacing at being caught out, but she couldn’t lie to him. “exactly. so, what is it sweetheart?” he asked again, this time more expectant as he swivelled the chair round to stare at her, unintentionally making her knees weak as he did.

“i just wanted to ask if you would come to get some ice cream with me?” she asked sheepishly, giving him her best cheesy grin as she fiddled with her fingers.

sighing, rafe gestures to the mess in front of him. “i’ve got a lot of shit to do, maybe later yeah?” he suggested, waiting for the crocodile tears.

“please?” she begged, now pouting up at him as she bat her lashes, knowingly making him feel a bit guilty. “shit..” he muttered to himself while he looked between her and the small piles on the table. “stop, you know i can’t say no to you, especially when you look like this..” he groaned, cradling his own head as he mentally cursed her for knowing how to get him exactly where she wanted.

“so is that a yes?” she squeaked hopefully. “that’s a yes angel..” he nodded, chuckling as she suddenly scampered back through the kitchen, away to get dressed.

[chiechie97]

The Devil and His Angel

I jumped straight to promt 31 oops!!

@jilytoberfest Prompt: Unintentional Couples Costume

“Love the costume Evans.” Sirius grinned, a mischievous glint in is eye, “where’d you get the wings?”

Lily tugged at the fake whie feathered wings she’d strapped to her back. The Angel costume had been thrown together rather hastily, the floaty white dress, and  glittery makeup borrowed from Doreen were doing their absolute best to convince other party goes she hadn’t remembered about this party last minute.

“Stole it from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They had their door decorated as a Pegasus for the Halloween door decoration competition.” She grinned, “I’ll put them back tomorrow morning. Hopefully they won’t notice.”

“Yeah you better hope, ol’ Snogfish takes his office and it’s décor quite seriously.” He said, pulling at the sleeve of his leather jacket. The 50’s getup would have been more convincing if it wasn’t the leather jacket he wore to work every single day.

“Say, what made you think of being an Angel?”

Lily shrugged; it was the only thing she could think of as she had manically pulled clothing from her wardrobe in search of something to wear. Mary took her Halloween parties very seriously, and she was not about to let her think she had forgotten about it.

“I just figured it worked.”

“Really?” He said, that mischievous glint still holding steadfast. “You mean to say you didn’t match with Potter on purpose?”

“Match with Potter— What are you?” She whipped around, following his gaze to wear James Potter stood stood speaking to Remus. A red button down, horns, and small pitchfork completed the look.

“We’re hardly matching!” She hissed, turning back to Sirius, cheeks as red as Potter’s shirt.

“The Devil and his Angel. How fitting.” He sang, tapping her cheek before standing up. “You enjoy the rest of your night Evans, I’ll be sure to let everyone know that you and James just happened to match completely on accident!”

She watched him go, face hot and heart pounding. When she looked back over to where Remus and James stood, she found the later already staring back at her, wide eyed and grinning like the Devil.

[vixien11]

BESTIE NEW PROMT JUST DROPPED!!!

Emily gets blackout drunk and writes a 1200 page erotica novel (maybe even longer) that makes her girlfriends (Charlie and vaggie) a mix between turned on and mildly concerned the more they read. The hazbins have a bit of a book club because NO ONE knows what’s in the book not even Emily cause she was completely blacked out. It’s a really good book too, the story beats, the characters, the emotions are all leaving the hotel impressed and gobsmacked.

Hah! Okay I just have to write this. Sorry I took a while to respond!(Totally not going to base the novel after a project I'm working on) Emily: (Wakes up groggily and rubs her face as she lifts her head away from a hard object) Ugh... I need to stop asking Charlie's aunt for beezle juice... (Looks down at the object her face was resting on to find a hardcover book called Weeping Horizons. After a moment of looking at it, she notices it says she wrote the book.) Emily: What? I.. I wrote a whole book..? It looks long. How did I even make it hardcover while drunk!? (She looks the book up and down) Well.. Better tell everyone else about this. Later, the whole crew is circled up around this book, eyeing it confusedly. Emily: Next thing I know, I'm wake up with this book. I don't even know what genre it is... (The Hazbins were looking at the book with awe as the cover had a feathered woman with long, pearly white hair curling around her face. The golden eyes of the women sparked a little bit off blood that was inching down her face.) Emily: But the cover looks like my art style.. Charlie: Alright. We'll just read it then! Can't be that bad. (Opens the book tentatively) An hour later, Angel is the only one immune enough to the contents of the book to read it out loud. Angel: Silk gasp as Phoenix licked the blood on her neck and drew circles on her collar bone... (Eyes widen) Okay.. Dove.. (Points at Emily) How the hell are YOU the one who wrote this..!? (Charlie and Vaggie are both blushing profusely and Emily is burying her face in a pillow) Emily: I DON'T KNOOOOW!! I WAS DRUNK OKAY?! Alastor: (Ears are back in asexual disapproval) Yet you have not one grammar mistake... (Flinches back with a small wendigo screech as he reads ahead.) Angel: Well at least I got the stomach for this. (Clears his throat before continuing to read) Half an hour later, it is Vaggie who is reading while the rest of the Hazbins are bawling their eyes out. Vaggie: (Wipes eye) Orchid knew she had made a grave error.. She knew her girlfriends despised her for every moment she had lied. Lied about her past. A shiver went down her spine as she watched Silk's eyes darken. A whimper escaped her.. (Her voice catches) Husk: (Lip trembles slightly) What the fuck are you doing?! Keep reading, dumbass! Angel: FUCK 'EM, ORCHID! I STAND BY YA!! THOSE BITCHES JUST NEED TA LISTEN TO YA! (Cries into Husk's shoulder) Cherri: Fuck you talkin' about, Angi? She ruined there relationship because she lied! She used to kill off civilians like it was pest control! Angel: (Head shooting up from Husk's shoulder) SHE CHANGED AND YOU KNOW IT!! Charlie + Emily: (Hiccupping and clutching either side of Vaggie for support) Cherri: Angi, I will go to war over this. HER REDEMTION ARC HAS BEEN LAME AS FUCK SO FAR!! Angel: (Dramatic ahh gasp) How FUCKING DARE you!! Vaggie: Is no one going to talk about how fucking tragic Pheonix is!? Like hello? Cursed to never be taken seriously but also is why everyone is still as mentally sound as they are! Charlie: (Wipes face) I am SUCH a Pheonix kinnie... Husk: Keep reading! Vaggie: (Sighs and mentally prepares to continue reading.) Should I keep writing this? :3

[animelucky]

“Make a wish”

Jalec or Mclandors

-any other ship names comment

Jackie: You want us to share a birthday?

Alec: Neither one of us really had one so I just thought…

Jackie: So when it’s yours it’ll be my birthday too?

Alec: Thats what sharing means

Jackie:…okay

(a sweet moment inbetween the eye rolls and scoffts. Serious girl x playful boy)