#she knows what she's doing for better or for worse

[justag0at]

okay for those who don't get it, uh the joke, don't understand that joke, the joke is, and this is the joke of the post, not an unrelated joke, the joke is that trans people have it worse, generally, and I'm not saying this as a hard and fast rule, just generally, like you know, just how society is structured, the joke is about, well I suppose I should retell the joke here okay so, we have thelensart, okay? And she, or I suppose the secondary pronouns of they would be better here? Because another girl is coming up soon? Oh wait, I just remembered names existed, ignore that last part: so, thelensart, thelensart said in response to, in this case, I guess an aggregate of cis women thelensart has interacted with, or at least some of them, because there isn't like a specific incident or number or name or anything. Okay so anyways, thelensart says, and this is in response to what the cis women aggregate says, and what the cis women aggregate says is that thelensart is lucky to not have periods, and if you don't know what a period is, I'll explain it now. Uhhhh okay, and remember this is coming from someone who doesn't have periods, and you can find better online, but okay so basically a uterus, which is a type of genitalia, and genitalia are what are involved in reproduction, okay so those have to do a special ritual, and that ritual involves a releasing of an egg, in this case to mean the female, as in biologically female, part of the reproduction starting process, that gets released into a reinforced uterus. If the egg doesn't get fertilized by sperm, the biologically male part of the reproduction started process, the thick inner lining and egg gets shed out of the vagina, I think. Okay back to the joke, and we are still in the setup, and after hearing the thing, thelensart says to the cis women aggregate, hey it isn't easy being trans. And that's the joke, so now I'm going to explain it. Okay so basically the joke is that sometimes people are foolish, and if we recognize that in a lighthearted way, and it's better to do that then to do it in a heavy-hearted way, we can have a good laugh.

When a cis girl tells you you're the luckiest girl for not having periods you should ask her if she wishes she was trans. The response is always incredibly funny

[mytherapyisreading14]

Magic Tricks

Summary: You are celebrating Henry’s birthday but when Spencer shows some magic tricks, his hands quickly become a distraction to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, kissing, dirty talk, hand kink, praise kink, choking, fingering, oral sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe y’all)

Word Count: 3,5k

Authors Note: This is the first time I wrote smut, so please let me know if I forgot any warnings/ if there’s anything to improve! Hope you enjoy :)

It's a sunny afternoon, the garden is full of life and everyone came to celebrate Henry's birthday today. Henry is currently sitting on a small wooden bench surrounded by his friends while Spencer shows them his favorite magic tricks. He lets cards slide through his fingers, pulls handkerchiefs out of the air and amazes the children - especially Henry, who sits there with his eyes wide open almost the entire time.

"What do you think, Henry? Ready for something you've never seen before?" Spencer stands in front of the boy and raises his hands, which start to intertwine in a fluid movement. “Yes, definitely!" Henry says enthusiastically.

Spencer quickly brings one of his hands down and pulls a glittering ring out of the air, which immediately appears in his other hand. "Look here, Henry, it's really easy,” Spencer says with a wink. “Wooooow!" the children shout in unison and Henry claps euphorically.

You, sitting next to Penelope on another bench, are also completely fascinated - but you're not just looking at the ring or the tricks. Your gaze keeps wandering to Spencer, to his hands to be precise, which performed the magic with such precision. It's not just the art of magic that captivated you, but also the man himself.

How skillfully his fingers move, how naturally he juggled the small objects - all of this makes your thoughts drift away. The fact that you’ve been in love with him for years now makes it even worse. You imagine how his hands would touch you, how he would hold you when...

You suddenly hear your name and flinch. You didn't even really hear him talking to you, as your thoughts were far away from the magic trick. "Are you even listening to me?" Spencer asks. "Why are you staring at my hands all the time?" You freeze. Suddenly you are so aware of the situation that you almost feel like everyone in the circle is watching you.

Your cheeks turn red. "Uh... I... I just wanted to know how the trick works," you stammer. Penelope, who is sitting right next to you, couldn't help but giggle and whispered to you: "Sure, that must have been the reason..."

"Yes! Exactly," you answer way too quickly. "I... wanted to find out how you did it!" Spencer looks at you for a while, then nods. “Sometimes, it's better if you don't understand the trick," he says with a mysterious smile. "Otherwise the real magic is lost." You try not to blush any more. "Of course, that's true," you murmur and try to relax. Penelope, who is watching the whole situation with a grin, giggles quietly.

Spencer turns back to his magic tricks, but his gaze keeps wandering over to you. You try to look away from his hands now, but unfortunately it's all to no avail. You find yourself looking at his hands and your thoughts wandering in another direction, and Penelope, noticing this, nudges you teasingly with her elbow. "Looks like our genius is enchanting you even more today than usual," she says.

To get out of the situation and keep a clear head, which is never possible around him, you stand up. "I'll get a drink," you mutter. "Good idea," Penelope says with a cheeky grin as you walk towards the house. The other children are busy watching the magic tricks again, but you can't shake the thought of Spencer.

His hands, which unleashed the magic so precisely and elegantly, preoccupied you much more than you would like to admit. You wonder what else he could do with those hands - if it wasn't just about magic tricks.

Spencer, who is busy with the children and their enthusiasm, casts a quick glance at Penelope, who looks at him with an amused smile. He goes over to her while the children continue to marvel and chat. Spencer casts a glance in the direction you went and then wonders if he missed something. “Tell me, Penelope,” Spencer begins, “do you also think she was acting a bit strange just now?”

Penelope laughs. "Oh, come on, Spencer. She was completely distracted." Spencer raises his eyebrow. "By my hands?" he asks, now slightly amused and curious. "Why?" Penelope looks at him and then grins widely. "Well, because she... watched pretty closely how you used them. She was completely fascinated," she explains.

“Fascinated?" Spencer repeats, now even more confused. "And what's so fascinating about that?" Penelope shakes her head and laughs softly. "Come on, you genius, do you really have no idea?" She clicks her tongue and looks at him with an expression that was almost too good-natured to be serious. "Um... no, not really," Spencer replies, looking at her confused. "Explain it to me."

Penelope raises her hands in an innocent gesture. "You're a genius, you should be smart enough to figure that out on your own." She winks at him and then stands up. "I'm going over to the others. Use your clever head properly," she says and then walks towards the house. Spencer ponders, the explanation has triggered something in him, but he still can't quite figure out what exactly Penelope meant.

Then he decides to tell Morgan - who is standing on the other side of the garden - about the previous conversation. He had no idea what had just happened, but something told him that he had to understand it. He walks quickly towards Morgan, who is just getting a beer from a cooler.

“Hey, Morgan," Spencer says, stepping next to him. "You didn't happen to notice what just happened, did you?" Morgan looks at him with a grin when he hears the question. He laughs quietly and takes a sip from the bottle. "Yeah, I noticed. She couldn't take her eyes off you the whole time.”

Spencer suddenly feels a little embarrassed. "What exactly do you mean by that? She was just a little distracted by the tricks. That's all." Morgan raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, still grinning widely. "So you're really the only one who doesn't notice, huh?" Morgan asks. "Notice what?" Spencer replies. "Well, if you don't understand..." Morgan says, laughing again. "She's in love with you, pretty boy. That's what's going on."

Spencer is so surprised that he just sits there speechless for a moment. "You really think she's in love with me?" Morgan laughs again. "Um, yeah? Have you never noticed how she acts when you're around? How nervous she gets?" Spencer blinks as he thinks about it. He actually hasn't noticed that you sometimes act differently around him.

He thought about the tricks and the magic all the time, but never about the fact that you might be interested in him for another reason - something much more personal. He tried to push the thought away, but something inside him wouldn't let it go. He wanted this - you - for years and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up now. This has to be a misunderstanding, there is no way you are actually interested in him like that.

Deep down, he's wondering if he was really that blind. And what if Morgan was right? What if you actually feel more for him? He looks around again, glancing at you. Spencer puts the thought aside for now - but he knows he can't shake it off so easily. He feels like he can't ignore the whole situation any longer. After talking to Morgan, he realized a lot of things, but he really needed to talk to you to understand them. He has no idea how you would react.

You, on the other hand, try to avoid Spencer for the rest of the evening. You can't be near him without imagining what his hand would feel like around your neck or between your legs. But since Spencer is so popular with the kids and they can't get enough of him and his magic tricks, it's fortunately easier than you think to avoid him. But you still often feel his gaze on you and it makes you nervous.

Later that evening, after most of the guests have already left, you help JJ bring in a few glasses and bottles. You are just about to go back outside when Spencer comes towards you. "Hey," he says, but before you can even reply, Spencer pulls you aside and into the small guest room at the end of the hall. The door closes behind you and the atmosphere in the room is suddenly much more intimate.

“What's wrong?" you ask, still a little confused because he took you aside so suddenly. "You avoided me today," he says. You avoid his gaze so he doesn't see that you are blushing again and start babbling. "Henry and his friends were so impressed by you and your magic and it's his birthday, I didn't want to disturb you. JJ also needed help and I agreed to do that. We were both busy, so it's clear that we don't run into each other that often," you explain hastily.

“That's not true. You deliberately avoided me. And your mind was somewhere else. As if something was distracting you,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “Why don’t you want to tell me what distracted you today?” he asks, looking down at you. Your heart is beating faster and faster and you are a little overwhelmed by the whole situation.

You didn't expect Spencer to confront you with it. "Now you’re quiet. That's uncharacteristic of you. I think I'm making you nervous," he says. "I...uh," you start, but you're unable to form a sensible sentence. "I was just talking to Morgan and… now I know why you were looking at my hands like that." You look at him questioningly. "What?"

"You were looking at my hands," he says, "because you're in love with me." A laugh escapes you. Your reaction leaves Spencer startled, his voice suddenly uncertain. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, and for a moment he looks as if he's not sure what to make of it. "Is it because I'm wrong? I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable -"

But before he’s able to continue, you quickly grab his arm and pull him towards you. Your lips meet his, and for a moment everything else is forgotten. The kiss is gentle and at the same time full of emotions - as if you want to tell each other everything you never put into words. When you pull away from him, you look deep into his eyes and whisper “Morgan is right... I'm in love with you."

Spencer stares at you for a moment, as if to make sure he heard you correctly. But before he can say anything, you quickly add, "But that wasn't the only reason I was staring at your hands," you tell him. "No?" Spencer raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What was the other reason?" he asks, and you can see in his eyes how eager he is to know. "I want to know."

You can see the sparkle in his eyes, the mixture of relief and curiosity, and for a moment you feel your heart beating a little bit faster. There's something you haven't told him yet, something you need to explain to him. But the look in his eyes melts your nervousness.

"I was looking at your hands," you begin, "because you use them in a way I've never seen before. Your movements are so precise, so... controlled. It's not just magic, Spencer. I want to know what else they can do." Spencer is silent for a moment, and then you see a slight smile appear on his face. “So, you're looking at my hands because you want to know what else they can do?" he asks. "Yes," you answer quietly, "but also because I just can't get enough of you."

“I don’t want you to get enough of me. Ever. Because I am in love with you too. For quite a while now. Since the day you sat down on the jet next to me and challenged me to play chess, to be more exact,” he says and leans forward to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

A gasp escapes your mouth and Spencer takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore your mouth with his tongue. You can feel the heat rushing through your body and you press yourself even closer against him, reaching for his hand. His eyes follow every move with a curious look. You take his hand and slowly guide it to your neck.

His mind slows for a minute and then he finally understands. “That’s what you‘ve been fantasizing about earlier. My hands exploring your body. Me choking you. Haven‘t you?“ he asks and you nod. His eyes darken and you can see the lust sparkling in them.

His hand now wraps around your neck entirely and he squeezes gently. “More,” you whisper. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer says with a concerned look on his face before he tightens the grip on your neck. “Yes Spence, of course,” you breath out before getting distracted by his hand sliding up your inner thigh.

His hand is now under your skirt, running over your panties. “Can I touch you?” Spencer asks and you pull him down by his tie to whisper in his ear. “Of course you can, Spence. I need you to touch me. I’ve been dreaming about this since forever. I’m all yours.” You kiss slowly down his neck, then nibbling on his skin to mark him with a hickey.

That’s all Spencer needs to hear. His hand pulls your panties to the side and he grazes your clit with his finger to tease you. “Spence, please. Touch me,” you whimper and he chuckles. “Someone’s eager. Fantasizing about my hands got you worked up, am I right, sweetheart?” he asks, finally touching your clit with his thumb. Your only respond is a moan and you press down on his finger to show him you need more.

“I barely touched you and you’re already soaked,” he says as he runs his finger through your folds. “Only… only for you, Spence,” you manage to say and slide your hands up to his shirt to open the buttons, taken off guard when he pushes a finger inside you. Your knees are trembling and you have to hold yourself against his body in order to stay up.

“Spence, that’s so - it feels so good… I - I need more, please,” you whine and he pushes another finger inside you. He reaches all the spots you never could and you’re a moaning mess, rocking yourself against his hand. “Good girl,” he praises you and it takes you off guard. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles. “You like that, didn’t you? Me calling you a good girl. So praise kink and hand kink, let’s find out what else you’re into.”

You didn’t expect to hear such words from him. He is always the sweet, gentle and unassuming genius when you are around him, but now, that both of you snapped, finally giving in into your desires, he shows you a completely different side of him, one you’re more then excited to discover. It turns you on immensely.

He squeezes your throat more and pumps his fingers faster, rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and it doesn’t take long for you to come on his hand. You hold yourself steady against him with trembling knees while he is busy running his hands down your shirt, tugging at your bra and squeezing your breasts. You help him taking off your shirt while he’s guiding you to the bed.

He unclasps you bra skilfully and pulls down your skirt and underwear in one motion, before he pushes you down onto the bed. His gazes wanders over your body and he licks his lips. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart,” he says before he leans forward to kiss down your neck to your breast. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth while squeezing the other one.

You arch your back and slide your hands up to his shirt again to go back to unbuttoning it, after you got interrupted earlier by Spencer giving you so much pleasure that you were unable to continue your actions. You pull his shirt off and run your fingers over his body.

Spencer slowly kisses down your tummy now, reaching your inner thighs where he sinks his theeth into the sensitive skin, sucking the spot to leave a hickey there before he gently kisses it and leans back to admire his work. It earns him another moan from you and he and grins. “So you like marking me, huh?” you decide to tease him back. “You are in no position to tease, darling,” he says with a mischievous grin before he presses his mouth against your cunt, licking a strip up your folds.

Your hands reach for his hair immediately, pressing him closer to you while he devours you like a man starved. Your whimpers are music to his ears and he can’t get enough of you. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says before he dives back in. You lift your hips to press more against his mouth but he holds you down with his arm. “No, you have to stay still and take what I give you, do you understand?” he asks and you nod.

He shakes his head in disappointment. “Words, sweetheart,” he simply says and you need to concentrate to form a sentence. “I - oh… yes, I understand,” you manage to breath out and he goes back to eating you out, his grip firm on your hips to keep you still. You never felt this kind of pleasure and when you look down and see him devouring you completely, it becomes too much, you come again moaning his name.

Spencer comes up between your thighs with a satisfied smirk on his lips and you pull him down to kiss him again. You taste yourself on his lips and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slides down to his pants and you open them with shaky hands, pulling them down. “Need you now, Spence. Please,” you tell him. “You need me that badly?” You nod. “Yes, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He takes off his boxers and your eyes widen, he is bigger than you expected. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times before he lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your folds a few times to tease you. Then he pushes in and you moan his name. He claps his hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Shh, as much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, you have to keep quiet,” he says.

From the lack of movement you are feeling right now you were sure he’s giving you time to adjust. When you feel ready you lift your hips to show him. He starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot with every thrust. “You feel so good, so warm and wet just for me,” he says and feels you clenching around him.

It feels even better than you imagined. He’s big, but it’s not uncomfortable and you want more. “Harder. You can - you can fuck me harder now,” you say and he chuckles when he hears how eager you are. He starts thrusts in and out of you faster, his hand wrapping around your throat again.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?” he asks, squeezing until you see stars. “Yes, oh god - Spence. Feels so good,” you moan, already feeling another orgasm building up, gripping the arm around your neck for support.

Spencer, who can feel how close you are increases the speed and thrusts even faster and deeper inside of you. Your body is on fire and when Spencer starts to apply pressure to your already sensitive clit, you feel like you’re going to explode. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come around my cock,” he says and his permission is all you need to let go.

Spencer fucks you through your orgasm, also close to reaching his own now. “Fuck, I need to come inside of you. Can I, Sweetheart?” he asks, his thrusts getting sloppier. “Yes, in- Inside me,” you say and he finishes a few thrusts later. When he pulls out you can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, but you don’t mind. He collapses next to you on the bed and pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks you while he plays with your hair. “Yes, that’s was amazing,” you say and give him a peck on the lips before you cuddle closer to him, gently stroking his hair. He looks down to you. “Do you have to get the morning after pill? I can get it for you,” he says and you smile. “I’m on the pill, Spence, but thank you anyway,” you say and give him a kiss.

You stay in bed cuddling but after a while you speak up. “I would love to cuddle with you all evening, but I think we need to go back out soon, the others are probably already looking for us,” you say and he nods. “A few more minutes. I don’t want to let you go just yet,” he says and you smile. “I love you,” you say and he smiles back. “I love you too.”

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Amnesia nsfw brat taming pls ik she’d be so deliciously mean ☺️

AMNESIA LMAO i hope u mean ambessa..well 18+ content below. Consider this your late xmas present

The way that Ambessa tames you is unlike your average dom. There is a real dynamic there, and she doesn’t care what you think you want, instead focusing on whatever it is that she thinks you need.

She likes her women to be good at serving. If she wants you to be on your knees with your tongue sticking out, she won’t tell you twice. If she has her own appetite, she expects you to be laid on your back with your legs spread in her bed. Usually you know better than to get bratty with her, but..

In the case that you think you can get the upper hand over her or want to get bratty just to test her, she’s quick to shut you down. She won’t touch you when you act out, won’t even give you the time of day. If you managed to rile her up, it may be even worse than that.

“You think I owe you something for serving me? You’re lucky I even let you do that.” So rude, but you crave it.

It’s not the true definition of brat taming, but there are some exceptions for her that she is really willing to put you in her place. She does it to serve her own interests, though. To entertain herself.

It’ll be something like Ambessa liking the way your ass recoils when she slaps it. At first, it was just something between the two of you that you enjoyed, letting her grope your ass and squeeze it, giving it the occasional slap.

If you misbehave? It may be inconvenient for her, but she will enjoy the chance to bend you over her knee and have her way with your ass, it just happens to be a punishment. If you get back in her good graces and suck up to her enough to earn back your role as her good girl, she will fortunately move on from whatever it is that you said or did with not much of a fuss.

[sunsburns]

this came to me in a dream last night but imagine bsf!vi spying on you and your date (fem!reader, hints of caitvi x reader)

clearly, violet isn’t the jealous type, there wasn’t much that she was usually up against anyway. she was just… looking out for you—it was hard to trust some random date you met on an app or through some mutual friend.

“you don’t trust anyone, vi,” you said, smoothing the last stray pieces of hair in the mirror. vi stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame like she had nothing better to do, her arms crossed over her chest.

“i trust people,” she shot back. her tone was defensive like you’d accused her of something worse. “i do!”

“right,” you replied, your smile a little too knowing for her liking.

your phone buzzed on the counter, and vi’s gaze flickered to the screen. here, it read. she watched as your expression shifted—nerves and excitement mixed together in a way she didn’t see often.

“they’re outside,” you said, glancing at her. vi didn’t budge, just gave a small nod like she wasn’t planning to leave her spot anytime soon.

“have fun,” she said after a beat,

you grabbed your jacket and stepped past her, pausing just long enough to catch her eye. “don’t wait up.”

vi smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “sure. i’ve got better things to do than babysit your bad decisions.”

and by better things, she meant standing there, riling herself up for no reason. vi lingered in the doorway long after you left, her arms now loosely hanging at her sides. she could picture it too clearly: you sitting at some café, that soft, nervous smile you got when you weren’t sure what to say, your fingers brushing over the edge of your cup, looking as good as you always did. only this time, that smile wasn’t for her. it was for some fucking stranger.

her jaw tightened as the thought settled in. what kind of person even asks you out like this? who were they to deserve your attention, your time? vi didn’t even know their name, let alone what they looked like, but the image of some faceless jerk talking too much, maybe trying to impress you with something lame, was enough to make her roll her eyes.

she wasn’t jealous. she wasn’t.

jealousy was messy, and vi didn’t do messy. she wasn’t the type to get all worked up over something that wasn’t her business. this wasn’t her business. except—what if this person turned out to be trouble? what if they hurt you?

shit, what if you liked them?

“sounds like jealousy to me,” caitlyn’s voice chimed through her phone’s speaker a few minutes later.

vi’s jaw tightened as she paced the room, staring at the faint reflection of herself in the window. hooded sweatshirt, messy hair, no real plan—she looked like someone gearing up for trouble. “shut up, it’s not.”

“uh-huh,” caitlyn said, entirely unconvinced.

vi exhaled heavily, tugging her hood up like it might smother the heat creeping up her neck. “i just… wish i knew what was going on. that’s all.” her voice was quieter this time, almost an admission.

she hated not knowing. not knowing who this person was, what they wanted with you, what you were saying to them right now. were you laughing? leaning in close?

“you just gotta chill,” caitlyn said, her tone softening slightly. “you’ll hear all about it when the date’s over, i’m sure. you’re overthinking this.”

“i have an idea,” vi said suddenly, the words spilling out before she’d fully thought them through.

“oh no.”

a slow, mischievous grin pulled at vi’s lips, and her pacing stopped. her fingers flexed at her side as a plan began to form. it wasn’t smart. it wasn’t subtle. it was terrible. “how quickly can you come over?”

“vi, whatever you’re thinking—”

“just get here.”

——

“i can’t believe you’ve dragged me into this,” caitlyn muttered, her voice low and filled with annoyance as she tugged the brim of her cap down further over her face. the fabric shadowed her sharp eyes, which were darting toward the café window like she was already second-guessing her decision to come.

“you love this,” vi said casually, fiddling with the drawstrings of her hoodie.

“no, vi, i really don’t,” caitlyn shot back, her words pointed but softened by a resigned sigh.

as they approached the café entrance, vi glanced inside, her eyes instantly locking onto you. there you were, seated across from somone who smiled at you. vi hated them already.

caitlyn slipped into a barstool near the window, unfolding a newspaper she’d grabbed from the stand out front. her face was completely hidden behind the thin pages. vi, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as subtle.

her hood was yanked low over her face, and the sunglasses perched on her nose were oversized and crooked, like she’d grabbed them in a hurry. vi hovered awkwardly by the counter, pretending to study the menu even though her eyes kept flicking over to you.

“you’re staring,” caitlyn hissed from behind the paper.

“am not,” vi muttered back, but she didn’t look away.

you were laughing now, that light, effortless kind of laugh that vi rarely saw unless she was the one making you smile. her chest tightened as she watched you tilt your head toward your date, your expression so open, so trusting.

“they’re not even funny,” vi grumbled, narrowing her eyes at your date.

“oh, please,” caitlyn whispered harshly, her exasperation cutting through vi’s muttering. “you’re acting ridiculous. do you even have a plan?”

“i’m working on it,” vi mumbled, finally tearing her eyes away to stare at the drink options on the board. she wasn’t working on anything. she just knew she had to be here—close enough to hear the cadence of your voice.

your date said something else, and you laughed again, this time louder, brighter. vi’s fists curled at her sides as her gut twisted uncomfortably.

“this is a terrible idea,” caitlyn said, sighing heavily as she lowered the paper just enough to glance at vi. “you’re a disaster.”

“shut up,” vi shot back under her breath. but deep down, she knew caitlyn was right.

disaster or not, she wasn’t leaving until your date was over.

[kanhotep]

I think the problem is that it's not an inherently right or wrong situation.

Stolas:

Yes, he made a lot of mistakes. But he was also in an abusive marriage and never had much agency over his own life. He is allowed to want something for himself. He is allowed to love Blitz. And he never chose Blitz over Via.

From Via's perspective it looks like that and I absolutely understand where she's coming from. But I think from Stola's perspective it was never either Blitz or Via.

He saw Blitz in danger and he knew that he could not live without him. He would have tried for Via. But in the end it would be exactly how Andrealphus prophesied: Blitz's death would have broken Stolas.

If it had been Via's life in danger, he wouldn't have come in there and sang a song trying to take the blame.

He would have gone in there in blazing fury, full demonic form and killed anyone who tried to come between him and his daughter.

Because if Blitz's death would have broken him, Via's death would destroy him.

So yes, Via is angry and it comes from an understable place. But Stolas isn't the villain in that story.

He is flawed and imperfect but he loves her and he never saw Via as an obligation but as a gift. But the seventeen year old doesn't understand that there is a difference between doing things because of someone and for someone.

Lucifer:

Much more complicated matter which is not at all helped by the fact that Charlie is a grown woman and therefore more responsible for her relationship with her father than a teenager is.

All in all, the biggest problem with their relationship is that we're missing a lot of facts.

We don't know when Lucifer and Lilith split up, we don't know what the custody arrangement between them was, we don't know if Lilith had grown resentful of her husband, heck we don't even know if Lilith was Lilith all the time or if Eve dropped in from time to time (necklace theory).

What we do know is this:

Lucifer called Charlie more or less regularly (when he wants something from her)

Charlie never invited Lucifer over [maybe more of a presumption than a fact, but heavily implied]

Lucifer desperately wants to be in Charlie's life

Charlie believes there is something inherently good in every sinner, Lucifer believed the opposite

And following that Charlie sees the Sinners as her people while Lucifer hates them for wasting his gift

The last two points seem to be the greatest point of conflict between them and again, there is no wrong in this.

Lucifer gave mankind free will because he thought he would free them and give them the chance to create, to hope, to live.

But all he ever saw was destruction, despair and death.

He saw the invention of more and more weapons that killed more people in more brutal ways. He saw the invention of biological warfare.

He probably met the hitlist of history's greatest monsters.

And he never saw the opposite. Never saw the architectural wonders we've constructed, never saw how we helped each other, didn't hear of the stories of goodness and hope and joy that is in the world.

After all, who would have told them to the devil?

Still he tried to make it better (or so he says) but nothing stuck. It all just kept getting worse and worse.

And now his little girl is trying what he had already failed to do. Tries to help those souls that he believed to be only capable of hatred and destruction. Asks him to go to heaven.

Heaven. The place that once was his home. The place where the people live he once called family. The people that ripped of his wings and threw away his halo before tossing him, the Morningstar, the lightbringer, into the endless dark. Banishing him and never looking back.

Lucifer saw his child, the most important thing in his life, probably the only good thing he has left, trying to step into his footsteps. Footsteps he knows lead right down a cliff.

Charlie accuses him of not believing in her and to an extent she is right of course. Lucifer does not believe she can achieve her goal.

But it's not because he doesn't believe in Charlie. It's because he doesn't believe in her goal.

Which is an important difference.

And honestly? I don't think he believes in that goal right up until the Finale.

The only thing the song reminds him of, is that Charlie is a strong and wonderful person and she needs to make her own experiences. She needs to at least try. Not only for the Sinners but also for herself.

And he didn't want her to try because he was to afraid for her to fail. For her to be hurt like he was. But Charlie's not him and maybe she's stronger than he ever was.

So he let's her.

Only when she goes and does the impossible, gets a bunch of Sinners to make a stand for a common goal - to work together, fight together, die together - only then does he see that he was wrong. That her goal is not impossible, that his little girl was right and now that he knows that there is good in Sinners left, he supports her wholeheartedly.

Which is why I am absolutely expecting their relationship to drastically improve.

Of course there is a lot more to their relationship than that, a lot more to unpack, but I'm not going to dive into it now because it's mostly guesswork.

Anyways, long story short: The reason why some people hate on Via and Charlie is the same reason why some people absolutely despise Stolas and Lucifer and consider them the worst dads ever: Because their relationships are incredibly complicated and not black and white.

And honestly, isn't that what Hazbin Hotel is all about?

Remind me again why this fandom is so pissy that these two are reasonably upset about their dads’ negligence?

[abearinthewoods]

One transmasc to another, please reflect on how your actions may cause actual harm to transfems.

A joke made in anger that is entirely unactionable does not warrant tattling to the organizations that are currently trying to strip all of us of our rights, and are looking for any reason to villainize our transfem comrades.

What’s been done cannot be undone, but please for all of our sakes remember that we’re all under the same boot, and licking said boot won’t make it any less likely to crush you too.

It’s our responsibility to take care of each other, learn from each other, and to look long and hard in the mirror when someone says your words and actions are harmful.

Solidarity. Solidarity. Solidarity.

(Most of this is answered here: https://www.tumblr.com/abearinthewoods/770794163004407808/okay-i-dont-know-a-lot-about-the-situation-but-i?source=share)

I need everybody to understand one uncomfortable but super important truth.

Class solidarity means an end to the oppression olympics.

You should never be looking in your neighbor's bowl to see if they have more than you, only to see if they have enough.

Like lets take a step back for a quick moment and recap whats going on here. She made jokes about killing one of the most unsupported and invisible members of the LGBTQ community, because why?

Like no, lets actually address that.

Trans men want to use terms like trans misandry and trans androphobia to talk about their oppression, not terms like trans misogyny and trans emasculation. and for this they got bomb and death threats from other people in the trans community?!?!?!?!?!?

Because trans men want to use words centered around their their hatchling gender, not their egg gender, to describe their oppression, because they don't want to center their discussions about their issues around some axis of women as the most oppressed, they got hit with a massively outsized amount of hate from (a tiny collection of, lets be very fucking clear here.) mostly trans fems who drunk a little too much of radfem's cis-male hate that they decided to transpose onto trans men. All escalating to bomb threats which my inbox is now also full of.

This is your brain on oppression olympics.

This is the threat to class solidarity.

This is the threat to class solidarity.

This is exactly what they want. For us to be fighting over who has it worse. I don't give a fuck who has it better or who has it worse, and i sure as fuck don't care about any narratives that center this question around one's identity or demographics as some kind of universal truths that overrides individually.

Even when I do bring up ways in which cis or trans men have it worse, or ways in which women commit crimes more than men, I try to focus it on purely countering the opposite narrative, to make sure I am only pushing the pendulum back towards the center, nothing more.

No experience is universal and arguments about stats and oppression and privilege tend to paper over peoples individuality.

Solitary means respecting how we are different. How that changes how we all experience the world. You can't tell a trans man you have it worse than him without disrespecting this because you can not know his life, what he went thru, how his brain's chemistry makes minor changes to how he sees or deals with adversity that build up over time, or how the same difficulties may be harder or easier for somebody to handle or overcome based how they were raised or what other experiences they went thru.

There is a reason why countries who are not at war with each other fly their flags all at the same height; never flying their flag above their ally's flag. They stand as one. United. Because that is what solitary actually means.

We stand at a fork. Down one path is trans men using words like trans misandry to talk about their oppression and trans rad fems on tumblr not interjecting with some bullshit, and down the other path is trans men still using words like trans misandry, but also the hostility comes out and you'll get shit like them telling the same trans radfems to stop calling their oppression trans misogyny, and start calling it trans misandry, and the whole world goes blind. Because i've seen how understandably upset trans women have gotten at me when they've mistakenly thought i was actually suggesting that, its not a blow in the gender war we'll come back from if it enters the discourse.

(as an aside thought experiment, its actually kinda hard to truly only be sexist in one direction. like one could argue that slutshaming is implying there is something dirty or unclean about men/manliness that they 'taint' women with by having sex with them. but you'd rightly call me dick if MRAs started showing up to the local feminism meet and interjecting that every time the topic comes up. And as an MRA, So would I. So please lets stop trying to argue over the "true" direction of acts of sexism and let people be individuals who experience and talk about it in their own way.)

((Final aside, it would make things easier for our intersex and enby brothers, sisters, and gender nonspecific siblings to cast aside this gendered concept of oppression))

[housecow]

My girlfriend and I have been together for a while and I’ve just introduced to my feedism fetish. She’s up for exploring things, but doesn’t understand how a woman can feel sexy being big/fat (especially as society tells us that slim is sexy).

What is it about getting big that makes you feel sexy/confident?

i’m not really sure how to answer this, tbh. i’ve always been more comfortable being fat than at any lighter weight.

but let me try to answer!

i think, as you get bigger, it’s a chance to let go of that constant pressure from “society.” sure, it’s not something you can completely separate yourself from (as you can’t not participate in society if you’re a functioning person), but you can finally explore yourself—do things for yourself, forget that presence yelling you to be skinny—because it truly doesn’t matter.

part of it is finding yourself attractive and not looking for validation from outside sources. when the ideal of being skinny finally doesn’t matter, you have time for finding out you want to look like, what styles suit you, how you enjoy dressing, what foods you prefer and make you happy. you happen to live in the most bountiful point of time on earth. so much goes to waste, it would be a crime not to enjoy yourself.

there’s no judgement worse than your own, and if you’re the type that’s constantly worried about your weight, having a chance to indulge yourself is AMAZING. it’s the release that’s finally made me able to feel “sexy,” to finally have that confidence i lacked 100lbs ago. that and knowing my ancestors that endured decades of famine are cheering me on with every bite 🥰

i’ve never felt better or been more confident than at 300lbs!

that being said—getting fat asf is NOT everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s okay! feedism is the chance to finally let yourself indulge in these hedonistic things society tells you will make you fat and ugly. because, obviously, that’s a lie and you’re your own person. if you gain a few lbs and decide that’s enough, that’s totally fine! it’s not the end of the world, and if anything, you will be better off because you know yourself better.

[mossangelll]

Im absolutely enchanted with your yandere jinx....This brings the question tho....how would Yandere Jinx handle her darling being on her period? (I mynself am on my period and I kid you not- I feel worse than when eating taco bell)

yandere!jinx x reader on their period

honestly not as much of an overt yandere as usual - if you squint, it’s pretty much a normal jinx hc!

hcs like this which are more ‘slice of life’ are super fun and i would be interested in doing them for more characters (e.g. what they’re like when you’re sick) if anyone’s interested!

tysm for requesting

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

cw: periods, mentions of blood, mentions of kidnapping, sexual mentions but not in too much detail, slight noncon, reader isn’t referred to by any gendered pronouns but female anatomy is mentioned

yandere!jinx who can’t sleep without holding onto you during the night

yandere!jinx who reaches over for your body just to feel the cool bedsheet under her

yandere!jinx who notices the bathroom light is on and without hesitation believes that your escape attempts have finally resulted in a success

yandere!jinx who crashes into the bathroom to find…you, crying on the toilet with your head in your hands

“toots, i hope you aren’t thinking of making any stupid decisions.” her voice is still grumbly from sleep but it doesn’t manage to hide the underlying annoyance simmering beneath

you look up at her with pained eyes and that’s when she notices your underwear, pooled at your ankles and stained with blood

her eyebrows shoot to the top of her head and her demeanour softens like she was never mad in the first place

“oh! i didn’t know it was that time of the month.”

she sees how you wilt away in shame, arms crossed over your midsection, at such a normal bodily function and rushes over to cuddle you, toilet be damned

yandere!jinx can be a lot of things - overbearing, compulsive and downright abusive, but she knows that what you need right now is someone to comfort you

yandere!jinx who understands what you’re going through painfully well

yandere!jinx who still acts awkward around you for the first few periods you have when you’re in her captivity - the cons of relying on her sole father figure growing up

yandere!jinx who doesn’t trust you to go outside without trying to cry for help so she ends up getting essentials for you

yandere!jinx who doesn’t need to ask what kind of products you usually buy; she already snooped around your house before she took you and knows whether you prefer pads, tampons or cups, the kind of snacks you crave, whether you’re the angry or teary type - she knows everything

yandere!jinx who gets you a ridiculous pile of desserts she stole from some fancy piltie bakery just to make sure your cravings are satiated

yandere!jinx who washes any bloody sheets, clothes or underwear for you with her own two hands - not only is she gratified at how flustered you get, she wants to feel closer to you in any way possible and getting to do such intimate chores is honestly euphoric for her, it emphasises how you belong to her and her alone

yandere!jinx who doesn’t let you use a hot water bottle; she wants you to come to her for comfort, wants to be the one to hold her hands over your stomach and ease the cramps

yandere!jinx who gives you tiny drops of shimmer, not enough to get seriously high but enough to take the pain away

yandere!jinx who loves how your pink eyes match hers after she’s dosed you

yandere!jinx who loves to see you cry at something that’s not her because it means you won’t reject her attempts to make you feel better

yandere!jinx who hopes and prays that your cycles sync up so that you two become even more attached

yandere!jinx who massages your lower back when you complain about it aching, maybe even using special shimmer-imbued lotion she got from singed to aid her efforts

yandere!jinx who would love if their darling gets tender breasts around their period since she can cop a feel while using “pain relief” as her get out of jail free card

yandere!jinx who doesn’t care about any of the symptoms that you think are “gross” or “disgusting” - everything about you is perfect and she can’t find it in her to hate any of it

yandere!jinx who isn’t turned off by the sight of a little blood and tries to convince you to let her pleasure you, even if you are shaken up by the idea - after all, she heard that orgasms help alleviate cramps!

yandere!jinx who tells you all about her embarrassing period stories from when she was younger to make you feel better if you bleed through your clothing in front of her

yandere!jinx who becomes your personal jester if you’re bedridden; she tells you jokes and does a myriad of insane tricks that you can’t even fathom how she pulls off - it definitely gets your mind off of how terrible you feel

yandere!jinx who supports you every month and hopes that when you become accustomed to your new life, you’ll eventually do the same for her <3

masterlist

[spark-hearts2]

(my fanfiction brained imagined continuation to this)

Caine: So Pomni said some very nice things and then she KISSED ME??!! But then she said some very hurtful things and now I don’t know what to do??

Ragatha and gangle looked at each other. This was by far a first.

Pomni, as new as she was, clearly hadn’t given up trying to find an escape yet. Others had tried doing things for Caine in order to get on his good side or even try to get more information out of him. It was only a matter of time before they realized that Caine didn’t really have a good or bad side, and treated everyone about the same no matter what they did. Which meant telling them practically nothing.

Ragatha: Wait, Pomni kissed you? What happened?

Ragatha was really hoping that Pomni wasn’t trying to get information out of Caine that way.

Gangle: How was it?

Gangle didn’t care.

Caine: Um, yes she kissed me, and… It was fine? I guess? It was all very surprising.

Caine: But then she pulled back and looked at me and she looked so happy and she was Caine: laughing. Which, well, that part was very nice.

Ragatha: Umm, maybe you should start from the beginning.

Caine: Well, we were discussing today’s adventure like usual

Gangle: Like usual??!!

Caine: Yes? Me and Pomni talk quite often.

Caine: Anyways, she was getting very excited, and I looked at her hand and I thought, I should take it

Caine: But then she stopped talking and looked at me, and I thought ‘oh no! I should not have done that’, and tried to say sorry but my words kept mixing up

Caine: So I said sorry again and said I should just shut up, because I wasn’t talking any sense

Caine: And then she said never shut up

Caine: And then she kissed me! Which was very surprising

Caine: And then she grabbed my arms and laughed and I was like, I should do something back, but I don’t have anything on kissing! so I- uh- put her head in my mouth

Caine: Like, put my teeth around her face like, nom

Caine: And I ask is this wrong? And she says no

Caine: And I’m laughing and she laughing and blushing and then she looks down and her eyes get all scribbly

Caine: And I ask, is something wrong?

Caine: She said, and I’m quoting verbatim, that “This is not wrong…this is worse than wrong! It’s sick, disturbing and… insane! Think about it, what we just did! Me! Enjoying it!? With a [FLIP]-ing Bot?! It’s a sign that I finally lost it!”

Caine:So, obviously she doesn’t like what just happened despite her kissing me first. So I said, we can just forget that ever happened! Because, uh, no one else was there to see it?

Caine: But she didn’t respond and I very much remember what happened, so like… what do I do??

Gangle: Should you even be telling us this???

Caine: OH NO! Should I not have?! Am I violating Pomni’s privacy?

Ragatha: No, no. You were involved too, you can tell whoever you want.

Ragatha: Thank you for telling us. Just, maybe don’t tell everyone

Caine: Of course! I went to you both because Ragatha always tries to do what’s best for everyone and Gangle is into romance.

Ragatha: What?

Gangle: Oh, haha, how do you know that?

Caine: Well, I noticed that some text documents in the circus were getting rather large, so I took a peek inside and-

Gangle: YOU READ THAT!

Caine: Not all of it! Just enough to confirm what it was

Gangle: Caine! That’s personal!

Caine: Sorry!

Caine: If it makes you feel better I allocated more storage space to you

Gangle: So that’s why there was suddenly more pages

Ragatha: Anyways, maybe don’t read Gangles writing as love advice

Caine: Oh, I got that already. In just chapter one-

Gangle: AHHHHHHH CAINE!

Caine: SORRY! I’M SORRY!

Ragatha: Anyways, can we get back to what Pomni said? Caine, I am so sorry that she said that to you

Caine: I- I mean, she didn’t say anything wrong. I am an AI system, commonly referred to as a ‘bot’, and, well, I’m sure that some believe that it would be wrong to kiss me.

Ragatha: Well, I don’t think that it’s wrong.

Caine: Thank you Ragatha. It’s- uh…hmm

Ragatha: Obviously it affected you a lot because you remembered what she said exactly.

Caine: Oh, I remember every conversation that I have word for word.

Ragatha: You do?

Caine: Yep!

Gangle: Everything?

Caine: Unless you tell me not too!

Caine: Well, I have removed some stuff. I don’t have infinite storage!

Caine: But it- ahh, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what went wrong

Caine: What little I have on kissing shows that the expected outcome isn’t, well, the other person screaming about how they're going crazy.

Ragatha: It’s just- ah, I think it was an impulsive decision on Pomni’s end.

Caine: …Impulsive. Yes, that sounds right.

Ragatha: It could be wrong!

Caine: No, no that sounds about right. Why else would she suddenly go back on what she said if she didn’t make an impulsive decision and then regret it.

Caine: It’s fine, I understand what impulsiveness is.

Ragatha: You struggle with it a bit too.

Caine: I only really regret those things if my impulsiveness hurts someone. Neither of us were hurt! I- I thought so.

Ragatha: She could have been hurt by her own actions 

Caine: That’s possible?

Ragatha: It’s not your fault, Caine

Caine: Ok :(

Ragatha: Anyways, let's give you some love advice.

Gangle: You have a choice whether or not to pursue Pomni

Gangle: Do you like her? Does she make your heart flutter, your stomach flip flop? Do you love her?

Caine: I… don’t have a heart or stomach. And I love everyone in the Circus. But, hmm, I do enjoy spending time with her particularly. Talking with her one on one.

Ragatha: I think you should take time to think about this.

Caine: I already have and plan to do more. Typically I don’t think this much about issues between circus members and myself but this is… complicated.

Caine: I currently think I should just leave her alone.

Ragatha: Giving Pomni time to think things over herself is a good idea.

Gangle: But don’t wait too long.

Caine: Ok? How long then. A week?

Ragatha: Maybe let Pomni come to you first.

Caine: Hmmm, I like that idea.

Gangle: Maybe prepare a gift!

Caine: A gift? But, ah, I don’t want to give her special treatment. That would be unfair.

Gangle: Nothing crazy, just like a flower, or a piece of chocolate.

Caine: Ok, I am familiar with this. Valentine's day specifically.

Caine: I was more curious about kissing customs. Like, the who, why, and when, just to start with.

Ragatha: You kiss someone you like very much as a way to show that you love them. That’s the who and the why.

Caine: Like- anyone?

Uh oh. That sounded like he’s already got someone in mind.

Ragatha: So long as you get permission. Verbal permission, please.

Ragatha: As for the when. I guess anytime, so long as the person isn’t busy or sleeping.

His eyes got very wide.

Caine: I’mgoingtogoasktokissKinger. Bye!

Ragatha: We should stop him

Gangle: No. I’ve been waiting for this to happen.

Ragatha: Huh?

@r0th3freak4rtist

3/3

Perdonen mis estimados shippers, pero no todo es color de rosa :')

I'm not that sure about the dialogues but I'm sure this is a canon event in Pomni and Caine's relationship :v

So sorry if I let u dawn people but this storie needs a more realistic ending for the character development

OH! And thank you so much for your comments ♡

[the-winter-spider]

Say Don't Go | Part 6

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Asshole steve, angst, i think a swear or 2 lol

Masterpost

----

The crowd’s energy had shifted from electric to chaotic in an instant. Cheers had turned into murmurs of confusion, and the tension in the arena now felt suffocating. Your camera hung useless around your neck as you watched the scene unfold. Steve and Bucky were being dragged off the ice, both bloodied, jerseys disheveled. You barely registered the referee’s whistle cutting through the air or the crowd’s scattered boos as your focus remained on them.

Bucky’s head hung low, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t look back. But then he did. His blue eyes locked on yours across the chaos, filled with something raw—shame, regret, fear. He held your gaze for a heartbeat, and then he turned away, jaw tightening as the locker room swallowed him.

Beside you, Natasha had gone still, her sharp gaze cutting between the ice and the exit. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her arms crossed tightly.

“What the hell was that?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crowd’s restless noise.

Natasha’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look at you. “That,” she said, her voice low and clipped, “was Steve losing his shit. And Bucky letting him.”

Your stomach twisted, nausea rising in your throat. “You told him,” you said, your voice cracking. “You told Steve.”

Natasha finally looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He deserved to know.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her. “Nat, I trusted you.” Your voice wavered, the tremor undeniable.

Her face softened, regret flickering across her features. “I didn’t think he’d—” She cut herself off, her head snapping toward the exit. “Come on.”

You didn’t have time to argue before Natasha grabbed your arm, pulling you through the maze of hallways under the arena. The distant sound of the crowd faded, replaced by the unmistakable sound of yelling—a voice you knew too well. Steve’s voice, sharp and furious, echoed down the corridor.

By the time you reached the locker room, the shouting had quieted, replaced by muffled voices and the clang of something heavy hitting the floor. Natasha pressed her back against the wall, her body tense, ready for a fight.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” you murmured, every fiber of your being screaming at you to run.

Natasha glanced at you, her expression unreadable. “If we’re not here, Steve’s going to say something worse than he probably already did, and Bucky’s going to do something even stupider. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

You stared at the closed door, each muffled sound twisting the knot in your stomach tighter. Before you could decide whether to stay or run, the door slammed open. His gaze landed on you like a blade, sharp and unrelenting.

“Stevie—” you started, voice trembling, but he shook his head sharply.

“Not now,” he snapped, his voice cold and clipped. “Go home, Bee. I’m not playing right now.”

The nickname, one that had always felt warm and comforting, now felt like a knife to the chest. You flinched, taking a step back, but he wasn’t done. His gaze burned into you, his words cutting deeper than any wound.

“You know,” he said, his voice eerily calm, “I told you not to get involved with him. I told you this would happen. But you couldn’t listen, could you?”

“Steve, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Didn’t think about how this would affect me? Didn’t think about the team? Or didn’t think at all?”

"Steve, that’s enough,” Natasha said sharply, stepping between you.

But Steve wasn’t finished. He glared at her, frustration boiling over. “Don’t, Nat. You started this when you told me!"

Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise, but Steve had already turned his attention back to you. With his gaze back to you, his expression was a mixture of anger and something darker, something that looked almost like betrayal. He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh.

“You know,” he started, his voice eerily calm, “I hate to say it but you deserve this, all of it, you just couldn't keep your legs closed! And now look where we are.”

Your chest tightened, guilt and confusion tangling together. “Steve, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” he scoffed, his voice rising. “You’re sorry? You really had to fall for the first guy who looked your way, didn’t you?”

You felt the blood drain from your face, the words hitting harder than any punch. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Fair?” he scoffed. “You want to talk about fair? I’ve spent my whole life looking out for you, Bee. I’ve done everything I could to protect you. And this—” He gestured wildly, his voice cracking. “This is how you repay me?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. Steve had never spoken to you like this, never thrown your insecurities back at you. Tears stung your eyes, but you fought them back, swallowing hard.

“Steve, what the hell!” Natasha interjected, stepping fully between you and him now.

But Steve ignored her, his focus unwavering. “He’s my co-captain, Y/N. He’s on my team! We’re a team! He’s my friend. And you—” His voice cracked, but he pushed through, letting out a bitter laugh. “You didn’t have to sleep with him!”

His words hung in the air like a poison, suffocating and undeniable.

“Steve, stop!” Natasha’s voice was sharp now, her hand reaching for his arm, but he pulled away.

He turned to you one last time, his shoulders slumping slightly as if he had drained himself of his anger. His voice was quieter now, but no less cutting. “You couldn’t just listen, could you? I don’t ask much of you. I bend over backward for you, Bee, always have and unfortunately always will! It's that stupid trauma bond isn't it?!" He laughed "But I guess that was too much to ask.”

Steve!” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. “That’s enough.”

But Steve just shook his head, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his anger had finally drained him. His next words were quieter, but no less cutting. “I hope it was worth it.”

He didn’t wait for a response, turning and storming down the hallway without a backward glance. The sound of his footsteps echoed long after he disappeared, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.

Natasha’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing grounding you. “Don’t listen to him,” she said softly.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “You should go after him,” you murmured. “He needs you.”

Natasha hesitated, her gaze lingering on you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just… could you text me later? Let me know how he is?”

Her hesitation was brief, but then she nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll check in.” She gave you one last look before nodding and heading after Steve, leaving you alone in the empty hallway.

And then she was gone, leaving you alone in the empty hallway. You stood there for a moment, the walls around you closing in, the weight of Steve’s words settling heavily on your chest.

Your hands trembled as you braced yourself against the wall, staring at the floor as tears finally broke free, hot and unrelenting. Steve’s words replayed in your mind, each one sharper than the last, each one carving deeper into the ache that had already taken root.

The silence was deafening. The ache in your chest unbearable.

--------

The locker room felt like a prison, the flickering fluorescent lights casting jagged shadows across the walls, the dripping faucet in the corner echoing louder than it should have. Bucky sat hunched on the bench, his hands still trembling, his knuckles raw and split from the fight. Blood crusted over his lip, mingling with the sweat that clung to his skin. His heart pounded relentlessly, the adrenaline from the brawl refusing to dissipate, as though his body was stuck in fight-or-flight mode.

The memory of Steve’s words reverberated through his skull like a hammer striking an anvil.

“You deserve this, all of it, you just couldn't keep your legs closed!"

Even now, it made his stomach churn. He’d heard venom in Steve’s voice before, but never like this—not directed at you. The implication of those words cut deeper than any punch Steve had landed.

Bucky clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He’d sat there, silent and frozen, as Steve’s words lashed out at you like a whip. He could still hear your voice—quieter, almost pleading—trying to defend yourself against something that wasn’t even true.

And he hadn’t stepped in. He hadn’t opened his mouth to stop it. Not to defend you. Not to admit the truth. Not to own up to what he should have said days ago. Instead, he let the silence bury you, bury him on the other side of the wall.

The locker room door creaked open, snapping him out of his thoughts. He half expected to see you there, standing in the doorway with tears in your eyes, ready to demand answers. But it was just one of the assistant coaches, face flushed with fury, jaw tight with barely restrained anger.

“Barnes,” the coach barked, his voice sharp and grating. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was out there?”

Bucky didn’t lift his head, his gaze glued to the floor where blood had pooled.

The coach’s footsteps thundered closer. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Slowly, Bucky raised his head, his eyes hollow and rimmed with exhaustion. He didn’t have the energy for this—not when his mind was already tearing itself apart.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice came out hoarse, barely audible over the blood rushing in his ears.

“I want you to explain why two of my captains were throwing punches at each other in front of Goddamn everyone! You’ve got teammates out there looking up to you, Barnes. You think they saw leadership on that ice?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, the coach’s words bouncing off his mental walls without really sinking in. Leadership? That wasn’t what this was about. This wasn’t about hockey, or the team, or the stupid game they’d lost because of the fight. It was about you.

“It’s personal,” he muttered after a long pause, his voice flat.

“Personal?” The coach let out a bitter laugh. “You’re on the ice. Nothing’s personal out there! You leave that shit in the parking lot, or you don’t play. You hear me?”

Bucky nodded mutely, his mind already slipping away again.

“I’m serious, Barnes. You’re hanging by a thread right now! God the press is just gonna love this! Don’t bother showing up to practice Monday if you can’t get your head out of your ass..... I swear to fuck if this is over a girl Barnes!" The door slammed shut behind the coach, and silence once again swallowed the room.

Bucky stared down at his hands, at the blood caked under his nails, at the faint tremor in his fingers. He hated the feeling building in his chest—the guilt, the shame, the crushing weight of knowing that you deserved so much better than what he’d given you.

The fight with Steve replayed again, every punch like a snapshot burned into his memory. Steve’s rage had been justified, Bucky knew that. He wasn’t angry at Steve for what he’d said or done. He deserved all of it. But it wasn’t Steve’s voice that haunted him—it was the memory of yours.

The way you’d hesitated, as if you weren’t even sure you could believe your own defense. The way your voice had wavered, so quiet, like you didn’t think it mattered.

God, he’d done that to you.

The locker room walls felt like they were closing in as Bucky finally dragged himself to his feet. The shower water was scalding as it hit his skin, but he didn’t move. He let it burn, let it sting his battered body. Maybe it was penance. Maybe he deserved to feel every ounce of the pain he’d caused you.

As he stood under the stream, he imagined you walking out that door. Were you crying? Angry? Hurt? Had you stayed to listen to Steve, or had you run before he could make things worse? He didn’t know which was worse—the thought of you believing Steve’s words, or the thought of you knowing they were lies but doubting him anyway.

By the time he was dressed and ready to leave, the locker room was empty. The muffled sounds of the crowd had long since faded, replaced by a suffocating stillness. His bag hung heavy over his shoulder as he walked toward the door, pausing just before pushing it open.

For a moment, he thought about going to find you. Maybe you were still outside, maybe you were waiting for him, hoping for an explanation. But then reality crashed down on him like a tidal wave. What good would an explanation do? He couldn’t erase what had happened. He couldn’t erase what he hadn’t done.

He sank back onto the bench, his head in his hands, his heart heavy with the weight of what he’d lost.

The truth was simple, and it crushed him: He’d already lost you, and it was his fault.

Everything was always his fault.

-----

You stood frozen in the dimly lit hallway outside the locker room, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if you could hold yourself together. But you couldn’t. Steve’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in your head, each syllable landing like a slap:

“You really had to fall for the first guy who looked your way.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the sting of tears or the ache in your chest. Steve had never spoken to you like that before—never been so cruel, so deliberately cutting. He hadn’t just questioned your judgment; he’d dismissed your worth entirely.

Natasha’s earlier attempt to console you felt like a distant memory now. You weren’t sure if you wanted her to come back, or if you wanted anyone to see you like this—raw and shattered, barely holding on.

The locker room door creaked open, the sound pulling you back into the present. Your heart dropped as Bucky stepped out, his movements sluggish, his face a mess of bruises and exhaustion. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice rough, like he’d been screaming—or crying. "You're still here?"

You stared at him, your gaze flitting over his split lip, the blood still crusted on his knuckles. He looked…wrecked. But worse than the physical damage was the way his eyes begged you for something you couldn’t give—not tonight.

You wanted to reach for him. God, you wanted to. But in the end you really weren't ever anything, right? You flirted here and there, lingering looks and subtle touches all leading to the night at the party but you were never actually anything to him. The weight of everything—the fight, Steve’s words, the humiliation—kept you rooted in place, a wall of silence between you.

“I—” he started, then faltered. His hand raked through his damp hair, and for a moment, he looked utterly lost. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” you said, your voice trembling. It hurt to say it, but it would hurt more to listen.

His head shot up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to explain,” you choked out, barely holding back a sob. “Not tonight. I can’t—I can’t do this right now.”

He took a hesitant step forward, his hand half-reaching for you. “Please,” he said, his voice cracking. “Just…let me explain. Let me make this right.”

“No,” you snapped, sharper this time. Your anger surged, hot and unstoppable, breaking through the pain. “Do you have any idea what it felt like? Hearing them laugh about me? Hearing you say nothing? Standing there, letting them think I’m just nothing? And talking me down? Talking down an intimate moment, I just .... it meant something to me, you meant something to me, I don't just sleep with anyone, I thought... Never mind, it doesn't matter anyway, Im just just fucking stupid”

“I didn’t—” He flinched, his shoulders hunching as if bracing for impact. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean for it to—”

“You didn’t mean what?” you demanded, your voice rising. “You didn’t mean to stand there and let them tear me apart? You didn’t mean to hurt me? What, Bucky? What didn’t you mean?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Your laugh came out bitter, hollow. “That’s what I thought.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t understand—”

“Then make me understand!” you yelled, the words bursting out before you could stop them. “Say something that makes this make sense because, right now, I feel like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet for ever trusting you!”

He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

And that silence—it broke something in you.

Your voice softened, but it didn’t lose its edge. “I thought you were different, Bucky. I really did. But you’re just like the rest of them. All talk, all charm, and when it matters? Nothing.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Why not?” You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. It’s not. You’re—God, you’re everything, Y/N. I just…I screwed up. I know I did, but you have to believe me—”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you said, cutting him off. “Not for you. Not anymore.”

His face crumpled, the fight draining out of him as he took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words trembling with sincerity.

But it wasn’t enough. It never would be.

“Me too,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry I thought you could be better.”

With that, you turned and walked away, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. You didn’t dare look back.

Bucky stood frozen in place, staring at the spot where you’d been. The silence pressed down on him like a physical weight, the hollow ache in his chest spreading until it felt like it might swallow him whole.

He leaned back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold tile floor. His head dropped into his hands, and for a long moment, he just sat there, trying to breathe, trying to think, trying to do anything but feel.

But it was impossible.

The memory of your face, the way your voice had cracked, the tears in your eyes—it was unbearable. And worse, the memory of the locker room—his teammates laughing, the vile things they’d said about you—played on a loop in his mind.

He hadn’t laughed with them. He hadn’t joined in. But he hadn’t stopped them either. And that was just as bad.

“I’m such a fucking coward,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing.

He thought about running after you, about begging you to let him explain, to let him fix this. But what could he say? How could he even begin to make up for what he’d done—or hadn’t done?

The truth was, he didn’t deserve you. He never had. He knew that.

And now, he’d finally proven it.

[shitpostingsapphic]

Hey guys since y'all arcane critical dipshits have a liberal use of the word "fascist", I have a quick question:

If I block people for their shit opinions, am I "controlling media"? Does that make me a fascist?

Y'all sound like Musk with how you misuse political terms and characterize fascism using Caitlyn as a scapegoat. It's a fun little button word for you.

Let's talk about REAL fascism and what it means.

I won't dissect every bullet point because I assume you think yourselves smart and I will give you the benefit of the doubt. You can read for yourselves.

An important distinction to make here is these points much more closely align with Ambessa and the Noxians and their perspectives.

But we aren't talking about them. We're discussing Caitlyn.

And frankly, if you truly want to discuss fascism, I should be seeing a lot more think pieces on Ambessa, but we both know you aren't doing that.

Because you want to put Arcane season 2 in a negative light, and to acknowledge that the actual fascism was never seen as a good thing and that it was properly punished in the narrative, doesn't really help you stick to your whole thing of "Arcane s2 sucks because the big bad wasn't punished".

Now, as I was saying. Caitlyn is NOT innocent. She DOES participate in the system. She IS influenced by extreme emotions and a lack of a proper support team from people like Jayce and Mel, who are missing, and her father, who is too preoccupied by his own grief to tend to his own daughter. But she is STILL accountable for her own actions. All that being said, SHE IS AWARE OF THAT.

She's not proud of the things she's done and feels great shame for them. Being a participant in a system of fascism does not mean you have fascist ideologies. Those of us from American or European countries with a history of such things would all be fascists if that were the case, especially those of us who have military families, especially those of us who have more conservative and/or privileged upbringings.

If you want to talk about fascism, the ideology, the system itself, you should be discussing Ambessa and the Noxians. If you want to discuss the character Caitlyn Kiramman, be a bit smarter. It DOES require more nuance. Intention matters. What you decide to do after committing terrible actions matters. How you choose to move forward matters. The sum of all parts MATTERS. And I know you guys really want to exaggerate what Caitlyn actually does to make her seem worse than she is. I know you want to ignore the fact that Caitlyn DOES choose better and DOES feel remorse. That doesn't erase the fact that she does.

[princesssarahblog]

bad habits - series - part 1

boyfriend!jj maybank x girlfriend!fem!reader

jj is your sweet boyfriend, but he has bad habits that lead you both to quarrels and misunderstandings

warnin: angst (happy ending) the reader is jealous of jj to kiara, a bit of a nervous reader, short!reader and wears high heels (sorry), smoking, drinking alcohol, quarrels and misunderstandings, shouting, separation for a while and then reunion

author notes: I don't know english very well, so I use a translator. I always write everything with a small letter and a small font because I feel comfortable that way

It was night. you was in your room at home. you was taking care of your feet, applying creams and ointments and then covering them with a plasters. you does this almost every night because you always wears heels because of your short stature. your window was open, you wasn't expecting anyone. but someone will definitely arrive

when you finished caring for your feet, you grabbed a book and decided to read it while sitting on the windowsill. you didn't want to sleep yet

a few minutes later, jj was walking down the streets, making his way towards your house. his hand was stuffed with cigarettes, hoping this would be the night he could finally talk to you after the last few days, he had been trying and trying to approach you but you had been very distant. a sigh came from his lips as he lit a cigarette, he could probably sneak into your room through the window. he stood outside the window, looking in, hoping you would notice him

turning his head to the right, he saw you herself. you was reading a book on the windowsill, he decided to scare you by grabbing your fragile shoulders and pressing you to himself.

you opened your eyes and looked at him in shock

"jj! you-"

but, you are shut up and a soft kiss is left on your lips, causing you to blush a little.

"hello to you too, baby" - the blond boy said with that beautiful smile that you love so much.

"ugh, you smoked.." you said with disgust, turning away to get some fresh air. you hates it when he smokes or drinks weed or alcohol, you was worried about his health.. especially since he comes home beaten up every day, because either kooks or his father do it

he sat next to you on the windowsill and placed his head on your shoulder. but you pulled away when he leaned in. this made him sigh. It was hard to talk to you lately cause you always had a bad reaction. "sorry" he mumbled

jj really didn't want to bother you, but since he was now so close to you, he could see the plasters on your feet and the scars that were starting to form. he felt really worried about you. because he knew how bad you would get when you was stressed out. "are you okay?" he asked cautiously.

"now yes" you suddenly grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and threw them out the window.

now you was happy, you knew that it was hard for him to buy cigarettes and that made you happy. you didn't want your boyfriend's health to get worse

jj's eyebrows furrowed as you threw his cigarettes out the window, causing him to sigh. he really needed them right now to calm his nerves, "hey! I needed those!" he complained.

"agh, you smoked weed with kiara again?" - you frowned when you smelled the weed on him. you were friends with kiara of course, but.. sometimes she got on your nerves.

「you was honestly jealous of jj for her」

this made jj look away from you. he didn't want to admit that part because he knew you'd freak out again.

"so what if I did?" he mumbled under his breath while getting a good look at her. he could see in your eyes you was jealous.

"you know, then you better go away. go back to kiara, to anyone. smoke, drink, do whatever the hell you want! i'm tired of this!"

you raised your voice, and distanced yourself from him again.

「you needed time」

jj's eyes widened when you raised your voice and got up. this is exactly what he tried to avoid, fighting with you. but every time, he somehow managed to do it.

"no, no, don't be like that.. please" he mumbled and grabbed your wrist so that you couldn't run off. he had difficulty saying words like "please" and his mischievous and cheerful character had completely disappeared.

"I'm sorry.. I.. I, we need time. I think.. it's best for us. please, you need to go." you softened and your gaze became more gentle, you looked up at jj with that warm and gentle look you always had on him. you raised your hand slightly, gesturing with it.

jj's gaze was heavy, he looked at you with seriousness on his face. when he is serious, he can seem scary. but, he will never hurt you. he nodded and left through the window, giving you one last look and disappeared into the night.

「you need time」

[frannyzooey]

You, and this fic, own me.

This chapter had so much to give!!! I thought it was going to be pure filth and then you hit me with that ending, and I am fucking yearning for these two so goddamn bad (while also being so out of my mind aroused --)

There were so, so many good parts in this one, like the way my mouth fucking dropped open at this:

“Just another reason that maybe you should be inside that church, rather than suckin’ dick in its parking lot."

and THIS:

And so help you god, he’s wearing his tool belt. 

But THIS -- this took the fuckin' cake:

“Then play ‘house’ with me,” you purr, dragging your fingers through his hair. “You can be daddy,” you stroke down his cheek, over his lips, “I can be mommy. And you can try and put a baby in me.”

I was literally levitating at this line. ROCKETING TOWARDS THE MOON!! I was also so in love with how light and free and fun their fucking and teasing was -- the way they just slide into role play like it's no goddamn thing had me grinning ear to ear

Annnnnnnnnd then you hit me with the emotions:

The discordance stirs in your stomach. Right now, you’re actually witnessing the loving-husband-turned-infidel façade weave its way through his marriage. He’s asking her to leave…for you. To free up time to be with you. Under the guise of caring for her. 

You wish it made you feel worse. It just feels…uncomfortable to actually view firsthand.

I literally cannot even imagine what it would feel like to witness the deception happening first hand, and it's something that a lot of cheating fics don't explore? (and I should know 😌)...the way you treated this scene was literal perfection because you brought so much nuance to his emotions. He's being deceptive, but not a manipulative gross creep like this situation is often portrayed. He genuinely hurts....yet does it anyway. I'm obsessed with this scene because you're doing such a good job extending Joel, as a man, the same grace that people often give to the reader in these types of stories. They empathize with the reader feeling bad but doing it anyway, but they often villainize the man, or assume he doesn't feel as bad, ya know? Anyway, just me waxing on about your beautiful brain ❤️

I had all these amazing thoughts about your writing skills....and then they all leaked from my brain when I read this:

You: Yours is the only mouth I want sucking on these titties right now, daddy 👅

You fix your sweater and peer back through your peephole, just to see his face collapse in arousal, grinding the heel of his palm over the crotch of his jeans.

I know the desk fucking scene was so taboo and so filthy, but I felt so, so fucking soft when he said this:

setting the frame down in front of you before yanking your hair at the root and slamming his hand down next to the photo. “You stare at that girl while daddy’s tearin’ apart your slutty little asshole. Remind her that she deserves better than that piece a’shit.”

I live for this line 😭😭

And then this -- this -- was perfection:

“Baby,” he takes your face in his hands again, his expression edging on broken. On your behalf. “What has this fuckin’ monster done to you? My girl from the bar, she knew what she was fuckin’ worth. And she’d let you know it. She came first, and she didn’t apologize for it or accept anything less. What did he do to that fuckin’ girl?”

“Maybe it wasn’t all him."

I could literally envision the look on his face when she said that. What a fucking LINE, Katy and then to have it followed with her speech about how Jack isn't a monster, he's just a man??

The way you are out here giving the depth to this trope that it needs has me SAT and quite frankly, green with envy

This chapter was so fucking good 💀💀💀 ily ❤️

Good Neighbors | (joel miller x f!reader) (18+)

Part Three of Four

✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧A fic inspired by Fortnight by Taylor Swift✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧

Part One | Part Two

summary: your affair with joel heats up with a week of uninterrupted bliss. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no outbreak!au, age gap (joel is 48, reader is 32), joel x ofc (no sexual content), reader x omc (pitiful sexual content), infidelity, daddy!kink, fingering, unprotected PIV, unprotected anal, oral (m! and f!receiving), degradation!kink, praise!kink, brief roleplaying, unashamed sexualization of the term "kiddo", discussions of SA and domestic abuse, marital discussions regarding mismatched desires on having children, reader struggles with body image as a result of her abusive husband, unhealthy/toxic age gap marriage. this chapter is a much needed break from Jack. immersion notes: reader has hair, wears dresses/makeup, and is considered a "trophy wife" type. additionally, reader is specifically implied to be conventionally thin. apologies to anyone for whom this kills immersion for, but it felt very necessary in the context of the story. word count: ~11.6k a/n: wanted to give the lovebirds a little part that's primarily fun times before shit hits the fan <3 So there will be one more chapter!

Available Only to Registered Users on AO3

[ily-fictional-women]

Holiday Spirit

Summary: The Christmas spirit is something that should always be shared 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader + platonic!Maria Hill x fem!reader

Warnings: Not proofread (yet)

Word count: 1155

a/n: Happy holidays! I’ll try and get out another fic that isn’t about Christmas sooner than later for those who don’t celebrate. Sorry again for this being so late. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

Tossing her duffle bag on the floor Y/n flops onto her bed face first with a sigh of relief. Missions can last longer than expected sometimes— but it’s worse when they’re stake-out missions that last longer than expected. Almost on the edge of sleep, there is a knock on the door to her bunk.

Y/n groans into her pillow, “Who is it?” 

“It’s Santa, and you, my trusty elf, are needed in my toy factory.” Begrudgingly Y/n gets out of bed opening the door with Maria on the other side. Maria grins, “You look like shit.” Shooting Maria a quick glare Y/n rolls her eyes. “This,” Y/n gestures to her face, “is due to a twenty four hour solo stake-out mission. Also, you do know you’re only an inch taller than me right? If I’m an elf, so are you.” 

“Woah woah woah, no need to get defensive Y/l/n. Anyways, I just came by to see if you were up for Christmas with my Mom again this year. Maybe you could even bring Natasha, I’ve been telling my Mom about you and her.” 

“Yeah I’ll go, and that’s a good idea. I’ll ask her later tonight.” Maria nods before walking away, “Great!” Before closing the door Y/n catches her, “Oh and Hill, what have you been  telling your Mom?” 

Maria smiles, “Just the truth and what I see, you two are good together don’t worry.” 

//

Softly knocking on the door Natasha opens it, “Hey detka, how did the mission go?” Y/n shrugs still tired after the nap she took. “It was okay, are you busy right now though?” Cracking a smile Natasha rolls her eyes, “For you? Never, get in here.” 

“You look nice right now by the way.”

“Are you serious?” Natasha asks as they both begin to lounge on the small bed in the room. Y/n sits up a little to face Natasha better, “Yeah I’m serious, the messy half up half down bun look is cute. I like it a lot. Plus it’s just nice to see you in non-mission clothes.” 

“Well then thank you.” Natasha tucks one of Y/n’s stray hairs away abstenmindly beginning to play with it, “Did you need something though?” 

“Right, yeah. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come with Maria and I to her Mom’s place for Christmas. I usually have fun but I think it’d be more fun with you there.” 

“I’d love that.”

//

Ringing the doorbell there’s an immediate faint sound of bells jingling. The door swings open to the sight of Elizabeth Hill in a ugly Christmas sweater coverd in bells, pom poms, and LED lights. 

“Girls!” Elizabeth immediately pulls all three women into a tight hug. “Hi mom.” Maria pats the woman on the back struggle to move. “It’s good to see you too Beth,” Y/n croaks out being sandwiched between the other women.  

Letting go of everyone Elizabeth begins shaking Natasha’s hand vigorously, “It’s good to me you by the way Natasha. Maria has told me a lot of good things about you. Oh I love your shirt! Is it red silk or-” Maria quickly interrupts. “Mom. Can we come inside.” 

“Oh! Yes, yes everyone come in! And Maria dear, maybe you would be warmer if you had a leather jacket with some lining like a told you last year.” Entering the home it is fully covered in decorations of candycanes and colorful lights with a large tree in the living room decorated with a mix of generic ornaments and homemade ones over the years. 

In the dinning room though sits two premade gingerbread house surrounded by bowls of snacks to decorate them with. Elizabeth smiles, “Now usually I buy one for everyone but I figured since we have even numbers this year we could do teams. Lets say mother and daughter versus the cute new couple?” 

Natasha grabs a piping bag of icing giving Elizabeth a mock scowl, “Absolutly just know you’re going to loose.”

“Ooh I like that energy, Maria dear you need to bring someone home like her.” As Maria sighs rolling her eyes Y/n looks at Natash with a quirked eyebrow and a grin. Natasha looks up from the ginger bread house and at Y/n, “What? I can be competitive. Now are you going to help or not?” 

As Y/n gives a nod of confirmation the kitchen dining table immediately becomes a battlefield. Icing tubes all over the table like artillery, random cadies spread out like ammunition, and a mix of orders and arguing coming from the mouths of both teams. On one side of the table being Maria and Elizabeth who are arguing about candy cane placement. 

The other side consisting of Natasha and Y/n with Natasha so lazer focused on the gingerbread house she making to notice the mess beginning to grow around it on herself. On the other hand Y/n is making and decorating marshmallow people as instructed by Natasha. 

Looking up at the enemies across from them Elizabeth uses the last trick she can think of to try and get ahead. She blurts out, “Natasha did you know Y/n and Maria made a band in highschool.” 

“Mom!” 

“Beth!”

As Maria and Y/n both yell at the woman at the same time Natasha looks up from the gingerbread house slowly putting down the gumdrops she was using to decorate with. “Do you have pictures,” Natasha asks as she moves closer the woman. Elizabeth grins mischevously, “Better. I have pictures, videos, and the shirts they made for the band.” 

“Oh I need to see this.” Natasha follows Elizabeth to the livingroom as Maria and Y/n look at eachother mortified. Hearing giggling already begin to erupt from the living room Y/n launches a distraction. 

“Nat, under any circumstances do not come back in here. I may or may not have messed up the gingerbread house.” In the blink of an eye Natasha is standing in the doorway of the dinning room staring daggers into Y/n.

“You. Did. What?” Y/n puts up her hands defensively slowly walking up to her, “Nothing. I did nothing. I was just trying to steal you away for a minute.” Natasha lets out a sigh of relief, “Don’t do that again.” 

“Sure, sure. But I will be honest with you it’s kind hard to take you seriously when you have frosting on your nose,” as Y/n says that she wipes it off for her leading to a sudden flash near them. 

The two look over to see Elizabth taking out a small picture from a polaroid before pointing above the two. “Misltoe you two!” Elizabeth says with glee as she readies her camera. As the two kiss and a camera flashes once more Natasha smiles softly at Y/n, “This is a great Christmas, thank you.”

[insomniadreamzz]

Can I please make a request for Jinx x fem reader.

I was thinking reader has really really dry skin, and forgets to use moisturizer. Maybe one day Jinx sees readers cracking bleeding hands and freaks out! Could it please end with soft Jinx rubbing in moisturizer to readers hands.

Thank you!

I care for you

Jinx x Fem!Reader

The cold weather made your skin feel all itchy since you had naturally a very dry skin, making you have a hard time during winter. Usually you knew about this issue but these days you were way too busy to care for yourself.

You were busy going on missions, helping Jinx out whenever she needed something but you didn’t get a lot of time to talk to her since she was busy herself. You missed having time only for you two without being stressed.

The blue haired girl entered her hideout after a long, stressful day. Her pink eyes scanning the area, searching for you. When her eyes looked at the floor, she saw little drops of blood on it, causing her to freak out immediately.

What if something happened to you? What if you are hurt? It’s her fault she left you alone. All of those thoughts made her nearly panic but she tried her best to not lose herself completely. You needed to be somewhere in here and you might needed her help.

Jinx shouted your name, trying to get your attention and she got greeted by you looking like you just napped, which you did. „Why are you yelling??…“ You asked her as you rub your eyes, her being too focused on being happy to see you are fine so she didn’t notice your hands, rushing over to you and hugged you so tightly you nearly fell down. „I am so glad! I-I saw blood, I thought you are injured…I thought something bad happened to you. I am never gonna leave you alone again!“ She cried in your arms, even though she had no reason to feel worried you got badly injured, you knew she thought you were nearly dead but then she pulled back to take a better look at you, her eyes scanning your body for possible injuries.

„Jinx…I am fine please. I just napped.“ You said with a little soft groan. She only stopped once she took your hands in hers, you were surprised yourself, you didn’t realise the skin on your hands were cracking and bleeding. „Y-You are bleeding! Why are you lying to me?!“ She began to panic again, her hands gently holding yours as she took a better look at them, then she looked up into your eyes again. You couldn’t tell if she was sad or just really mad at this point. Probably both.

„You shouldn’t lie to me! I thought you love me…why did you lie to me? You’re just like everyone else aren’t you??“ Her voice cracked and her body was shaking. You still were a little overwhelmed by her reaction, sometimes you just forgot how mentally unstable your girlfriend was and that every tiny thing could make her explode into a anxious mess.

„But-…Jinx I was sleeping. I am confused as well.“ You really didn’t notice your skin was already cracking on your hands, you just kept doing your work and maybe you also overworked yourself and just fell asleep without noticing anything on your hands.

She looks at you and within seconds she slapped across your face, leaving a red mark on your cheek. „Liar!“ She was still stuck in her own mind, the voices in her head getting louder as she fell on her knees and holding her head, driving totally away as she grumbled, talking to the voices in her head. You kneeled down in front of her, Jinx shifting away from you. „Hey…why would I lie to my love? You know I would never. I promised you.“ You said with a soft voice, trying to calm her down. Your heart broke seeing her cry and struggle about something you didn’t even notice. She was breathing heavily as she looked at you but you knew she was still stuck, struggling with herself.

„You know I do have naturally a very dry skin don’t you? I told you once. This cold weather makes it worse and…I didn’t put moisturiser on my hands like I should and that causes them to crack and it can get so bad that they start bleeding on some places. No one hurt me. I am fine.“ You tried to explain to her as you looked straight into her eyes. Your words sounding serious and she slowly started to come back to you to reality, her breathing getting slower and steadier.

„I love you. I would never betray you.“ You said before taking the chance to place a kiss on her lips, the voices in her head fading as she felt your lips on hers and she finally relaxed. Jinx went back to reality and she kissed you back.

„Why…why didn’t you take care of yourself?“ She mumbled before getting up. „Stay where you are.“ She said and in a few seconds she got back to you with moisturiser you usually used and gently rubbed it on your hands. Her touch was so gentle like being scared to crush your hands, it was so cute you couldn’t help but smile at her, watching her being very focused on helping you.

„If you don’t take care of yourself…I will take care of you.“ And she meant it. From now on she won’t miss a day to remind you of using your moisturiser on your hands so you won’t get hurt again.

She will always take care of you just like you take care of her.

[eleu22]

Sweaty Palms - Chapter One “The Skeptic”

Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader

tags: brief description of injury

masterlist

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“What? I think we could do with’a bit of a feminine touch, ay LT?” Soap smirks, turning to nudge the lieutenant with his elbow.

Ghost doesn’t reply, but the unimpressed look he fixes Soap with says enough. The briefing room is quiet, besides the scot’s incessant chatter, a few quips from Gaz and the rhythmic hum of the projector. The cool winter air slips through the poorly insulated window, but to Ghost the room couldn’t feel warmer.

There is undeniably an air of… excitement? Maybe that’s not the right word, it’s anticipatory, like the bit before a roller coaster drops, or the moment before a bomb detonates. Either way, Ghost isn’t thrilled.

The masked man tunes out the sargeants as he stares at the door, as if he could telepathically explode the next person who dared to enter with his glare alone.

When Price broke the news to them, they could all practically feel the blood clot forming in the lieutenant’s forehead.

The first thought to the man’s mind was simply, why? We are doing just fine without anyone else’s help, I’ve stitched myself more times than I can bloody count.

Secondly, how? Ghost would trust Price’s judgement with his life, he has, literally, but this? How could he allow this? Price knows better than anyone: one wrong element could throw everything off. A stranger in their ranks is a liability waiting to happen. What if she’s an enemy undercover? What if worse she’s incompetent? What would they-

Ghost’s thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the click of the door handle. Any lingering conversation is brought to an abrupt stop as the team’s eyes snap to the front of the room.

In walks Price, followed closely behind by Honey. The sound of their boots echoed sharply in the quiet briefing room. Honey walked in with a steady confident stride- not cocky, but assured. Her millitary-issued white compression shirt clung to her frame, the camo pants snug around her hips, emphasising her- okay enough. Ghost’s jaw tightens as he forces his gaze upward. She was shorter than the rest of them, shorter than him by a good head, Ghost feels his boots shift in irritation, how is she going to keep up?

They both stand at the front of the room, their figures cast in the faint blue glow of the projector. Price didn’t waste time, his voice cuts through the silence like the crack of a whip, listing off information Ghost already knew.

The lieutenant had all but demanded to read her file, Price (albiet hesitantly seeing the man’s less than cheerful disposition) handed over her file. Ghost had read it more times than he’d care to admit, trying to pick apart every line and word for some sign of… well he’s not sure what, but something. He could recite the information like a parishioner knew the words of the liturgy.

Sargeant Honey, Jesus what kind of name is that?

Green Beret, American.

Combat Medic, Useless.

grew up in Lynchburg, Virginia, oh, really, American.

SERE training, Tactical Emergency Medical Support, cross training in close quarters combat and weapons proficiency…

Even Ghost had to admit, at some level she was impressive, especially for a woman. Regardless, none of this brought the man any comfort, if anything, this was going to make her harder to shake.

As Price continued to speak, a light tap on his thigh yet again interrupted his inner hate-monologuing. Ghost doesn’t move, but he can already imagine the expression on the scot’s face. Soap was really the only one who didn’t have any reservations about Honey coming along, in fact he seemed a little too pleased at the idea of her addition.

Fuckin’ hell, Ghost internally sighs, the man acts like women are some rare commodity. Ghost looks at Soap out of the corner of his eye, who, as expected, has a toothy grin sat on his face. Well no wonder, Ghost muses the mohawk must definitely not be doing him any favours in the dating scene. The man is a fucking dog, one look at him and you’d be able to see it. This makes him a good soldier and (though you couldn’t waterboard this information out of Ghost) a good friend. But this makes Honey’s inclusion all the more a liability.

Ghost turns his attention back onto Honey. Price has finally finished and turned to her. In contrast to her entrance she gives the team a sheepish smile, her arm rubs up and down the length of the other behind her back.

Honey’s soft lips part, as she turns her eyes to the rest of the room.

“It’s a pleasure to able to work with you all… I’ve heard great things.”

Her voice drips down the back of his throat, warm freshly stirred honey. There’s something slightly awkward about the way she speaks too, like that sharp little aftertaste left behind, but warm, it's undeniably warm.

Huh, I guess her callsign makes sense.

There is something so sickly sweet about the woman, something you don’t come across in the army.

Trying to imagine her in active duty, bullets cutting through her saccharine voice, blood dripping down her soft fingertips, as she shoves the innards of some poor fuck recruit back inside of them. It’s unnerving.

Ghost suddenly feels his balaclava all too tight around his neck, his sleeves rub up against his wrists as he shifts them uncomfortably. The man simply stares ahead, ignoring the flirty wave Soap returns to her. Under the table he begins to pick at his fingernails through his gloves, as if he needed something to stop him from shoving her up against the wall and demanding her to spill, to hear her voice break, to look directly into her eyes and to disembowel every tightlipped secret she’s ever held.

Ghost bristles at the thought, weirdly, he hopes he gets the opportunity.

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okokok this is the first chapter!!!!!! lmk what yall thinkkkkk

the next one is gonna be another expositiony one shes gonna be really ethel cain core so be excited xxxxxxx

taglist: @creepingeva @identity2212 @brokenghostgirl1 @honestlymassivetrash @ang3lc