#she’s the one not getting pissed at me for losing that job and believing them

[holylulusworld]

Gap Filler (2)

Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.

Gap Filler (1)

Walter feels like he’s losing his mind. He’s pacing the room, driving the lab assistant crazy. She huffs and shakes her head. Not only does Walter ask for an unauthorized analysis, but he also gets on her nerves.

“Sir, the results won’t come faster if you keep on walking holes into the ground. It will take as long as it takes.”

“I’ll be back in half an hour and need the results by then,” he huffs and turns to leave. “I know you’re not happy that I called in a favor. This is an important, life-changing event. So please, hurry up. I need to be sure if I bring something for the baby too.”

She furrows her brows but says nothing. Three years ago, Walter did her a favor without asking questions. She will do the same for him to pay him back and to be even with the grumpy detective.

“Half an hour,” she nods. “Got it.”

“…and?” Walter expectantly looks at the lab assistant. He never felt so much pressure on him before. Not even while on the hunt for a killer. “Please tell me you have the result for me.”

“Here.” She hands Walter the results. “Now we are even. Never ask me to do something like this ever again. I could lose my job.”

“If you forget about the test and the results, we are even.” He looks at the results. His heart jumped for a second before he remembered what he said to you only a few days ago.

“Detective.” She nods and turns back toward her equipment. “You shouldn’t waste more time. She’s on the way to start a new life far away from you.”

Walter huffs. The last thing he needs is someone telling him that he fucked up big time. He already knows there’s no way you’ll forgive him.

“Can I help you, sir?” The clerk at the shop asks. She’s looking at Walter standing in front of a shelf. He looks left and right, unsure what to buy. “Sir?”

“Hmm…” Walter dips his head to look at her. He has his arms crossed over his chest as he tries to decide on a gift hamper. “I need a gift for…” He sniffs and looks back at the shelf. “…my pregnant girlfriend. It should say, I’m sorry and happy to become a dad at the same time.”

She frowns. “You want to apologize with a baby gift hamper? Sir, I don’t know your girlfriend well, but that’s not the best gift for an angry pregnant woman.”

“How do you wanna know?” He cocks his head to watch her look at the shelf herself. “I want her to know that I’m happy about the baby and that I’m sorry for saying all those stupid things.”

She huffs now. “You are always sorry, aren’t you? Men are all the same. Do you believe a half-hearted apology and a random gift will make things up to her? How dare you come back to her to do it all over again!”

“Whoa, I didn’t ask for your opinion or help. If you’d excuse me now,” Walter angrily says. He glares at the clerk, pissed at her cocky attitude. “Whatever crawled up your ass is not my fault or problem. Nice customer service.”

He’s too angry to focus on buying anything at the shop. Walter storms out of the shop, squaring his jaw. The young woman at the shop wasn’t wrong. Walter hurt you beyond repair, and this can’t be fixed with a fucking gift hamper.

“I’ll take two, no, three of these.” Walter points at the flower baskets. “No, this is stupid. Give me your prettiest bouquet of peonies. She loves them.”

He looks around the flower shop, frowning deeply. There’s a beautiful orchid and a large cactus next to it. Walter shakes his head and laughs. “An impossible match,” he murmurs before pointing at the plants. “I changed my mind. I’ll take these two.”

Packing up your things to move out of your home feels wrong. You learned to love your apartment and turned it into a cozy home for you.

Not so long ago, you had hoped Walter would move in with you one day.

All your hope got shattered the day he told you Rachel is back and that he wants to try again. Your heart broke, and you mourned the life you could’ve had if only Walter felt the same.

Now you’re going to raise the life growing inside of you alone, far away from the friends you made and your beloved home.

“Well, this can’t be helped,” you murmur while rubbing your belly. There’s no swelling yet, but soon enough people will know you’re expecting. “We are going to do this all on our own, bean. Don’t worry. Your mommy is going to give you all the love you’ll need.”

For a few moments, you allow yourself to be sad about the breakup. You cry, you scream, and then you get up to pack up a few more things.

Walter is a nervous wreck. He paces in front of your apartment, the cactus, orchid, and a baby gift hamper in his arms.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Walter curses himself for being a fool. If only he knew that you never wanted to leave him for a better position.

How could he be so blind? How could he not see that your feelings for him were true?

His instinct should’ve told him you are not going to leave him. Instead, he ignored his instinct and listened to the nagging voice in the back of his mind.

“FUCK!” One last time, he takes a deep breath before knocking at your door, using his right elbow.

“Hello, what can I—” You stiffen when your eyes meet Walter’s blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same!” He huffs. “I told you so often to not open the door before checking who’s on the other side.”

You huff. “This is how you want to start this conversation? Really, Walter?” He smirks when you put your hands on your hips to glare at him. “What brings you here? Do you want to make sure I’m leaving? Maybe Rachel needs a new apartment, and you want mine.”

“Baby,” he hesitantly says. “Rachel is not, and never will be, a part of my life. She wanted to return for a few months, but we didn’t stay in touch. I lied, believing you want to leave me too. I was hurt and believed hurting you would make me feel better.”

You narrow your eyes. “For a smart detective, you are dumb as a brick.” Slamming the door in his face, you huff. “FUCK YOU!”

“Baby? Uh—will you at least let me explain things? Please?” He knocks at your door again, using his foot this time. “Y/N, please open the door. The cactus is poking my chest, and the orchid looks like it's scared of me.”

You’re tempted to open the door, almost giving in as he keeps talking. “No.”

“Please, at least take the plants. You see, the pretty one is you, soft and sweet. The large, ugly beast is me, rough and grumpy. Even though they are so different, he loves the pretty orchid.” He sighs deeply. “And he hopes that the pretty flower loves him too…”

Walter listens closely. He sucks in a breath when you curse behind the door.

“Baby, I know about the baby,” Walter continues. “I know what I did and said was unforgivable, but please talk to me…”

[ghostickle]

Since this blog is just a public diary at this point here’s how my life is going rn;

As we all know I’m living in a friends closet, literally. And I Had finally gotten a job after like two months but then Those Cunts managed to convince me they weren’t so shitty and after only like a week and a half at the new job they got me thinking about moving back there where I don’t have to walk so far in the dark for work and where there’s always clean running water and where my puppy is. I thought I was going to quit the job I had just gotten to go back then last night they have me FaceTime them literally doing this shit like it’s an interview and it’s supposed to be my parents and they’re talking about if I’m allowed back saying I act like a toddler that I’m a liar and I’m “putting them in danger” by telling my friends what’s going on and leaving their house and they start saying how they’ll kick me out if they decide they don’t like something I do or say at any moment and all the same shit they tried to pull before I left and I, now heavily dissociated and realizing I fucked up trusting them, realize I can’t go back what the fuck was I thinking but I already had gone too far. I had to leave the job I just got that I really liked after only two weeks because I trusted them and I lost everything I spent two months working for and I have to start all over again

[chisatowo]

I love how my first two pmd randomizer teams I characterised them in my head as different flavors of ah goofy and now these new guys are just a bunch of assholes. Just a gaggle of shitheads who think they're better than everyone else. They all hate eachother and think they're the only normal person here. They r also best friends but they do kill eachother on a regular basis.

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 

 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 

You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 

And by God you did. 

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 

“Care to dance?”

Taglist: @alastor-simp @alastorsgoldie @food-theorys-blog @nunezs-stuff @lbcreations-blog @imperfectbloodmoon @crystalrose36 @nixie-writes @isuckatwritingsobenice @tired-of-life-86 @frompeach @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @witch-of-writing-desk @mary-v193 @chewbrry @mmelionsblog @ladymothbeth @the-cat-queen-peasants @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @alyriaschoenheit @blumin8 @akemika75 @f4turemom @kameyo-kumo @aloenemonabee27 @doc-tooth @theuknowntravel3r @angelltheninth @solandis-does-stuff @navierkalani @deathmetalunicorn1 @star-fawn21 @sleepy-hutao @gamerxpfighter @no1sillybilly @frenchtoastmafia @candyladycry @bladeismine @bones4thecats

[moody-alcoholic]

Truth

I am not ignorant to the fact I’m writing a gay sex scene and everyone is hanging out in Syria. Resources below.

Guardians of Equality Movement

Syria LGBTQI+ Resources

Equaldex LGBT rights in Syria

I cant stop writing for this series. Every time I say I'll take a break I pump out another outline...

MDNI +18 content

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 2.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: MDNI +18 content Mentions of torture, torture, smut, blowjob (male receiving & giving), language. First proper Johnny x Simon scene, IDK it just felt right...

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

Johnny was grabbing something to eat in the canteen when he watched Ghost walked over to him. He knew something was wrong, he had that cold look in his eyes. The one he gets when he has to focus on the job and nothing else matters, not even him. Johnny swallowed hard standing up to meet Ghost. 

“Come.” It’s all he says but it makes the hairs stand up on the back of Johnny’s neck. Johnny follows they walk into an observation room. Johnny gasps when he sees you handcuffed the table head hanging down.

“What happened?” Johnny asked looking round the room his eyes falling on Jack who’s stood there arms crossed. 

“We believe she’s responsible for the murder of the doctor.” Jack says. Johnny laughs, looking around at everyone else being serious.

“Christ, what’s the evidence?” Johnny asked.

“Her ID was used to withdraw large amounts of insulin which is believed to be the cause of death.” Johnny looked at Jack shocked then at Price. 

“Has she said anything?” Johnny asked feeling sick. There is no way you did that, this has to be a set up, something… Johnny just knew it in his gut, you were innocent.

“No, she’s not talking.” Price said, Johnny could hear something in his voice. Sadness? Annoyance?

“I heard you are very good at your job lieutenant,” Jack says taking a step closer to Ghost. 

“���Pends on what you heard.” Ghost replies remaining still, looking through the one way glass you’ve not moved, not wanting them to see your pained expression.

“I heard you can get people to talk, and we really need her to talk.” Jack says. 

“We can try other ways before sending Ghost in.” Price says. Jack scoffs.

“If she’s been trained by the enemy she won’t break.” He says walking to the door. 

“You have 24 hours to get her to talk or you’re out of here.” Everyone looked at Price. He went to sit down.

“You heard him, make her talk.” Price says.

“We don’t torture innocent people.” Ghost’s voice is level, he still hasn’t moved. 

“We’re not torturing anyone just question her you’ve got to buy me some time, look like you’re doing your jobs so I can figure out a solution.” Price sighs.    

“It’s wrong.” Johnny says. Price sighs again getting up. 

“LT, Gaz go to security I want anything you can find, from the moment she wakes up in the morning to the second she’s asleep. She takes a piss I want to know about it, where her card was swiped who has seen her anything, and quickly before Jack can replace staff.” Price says as he walks over to Johnny. 

“Come on let’s go have a chat with her, maybe she’ll tell us something useful” Price says his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny knows Price is trying to calm him but there is nothing on the face of the world right not that can slow his mind. He looks back through the window, guilt rises up as Ghost and Gaz leave the room. It’s times like this Johnny envies Simon being able to hide his face. Price squeezes his shoulder he looks in Price’s eyes, they look sad understanding. It doesn't make Johnny feel any better.

—————————— 

You can’t look at Simon’s eyes when he’s the room, the caramel eyes you used to lose yourself in, they’re just dark now, dark and uncaring. Johnny’s in sometimes, he won’t even look at you let alone in your eyes any more, the eyes you used to look in for comfort, love, hope. You don’t know what's worse. Price is the one who questions you, always the same questions. 

How did you do it? 

Why did you do it? 

Who do you work for? 

How long have you known about 141? 

Did you get close to them on purpose? 

Did you use them to get information on 141? 

Why?

He never says their names, Johnny, Simon. It’s always just ‘them’ he doesn’t have to say their names, you know who he means. Maybe you did betray them? Maybe this was all your fault? 

By the second day you can’t remember the doctors name, just the fact he’s leaving a kid and a wife behind. You’re moved into a windowless cell, you’re woken up at random times, you’re starting to lose track of time. It’s only after what you think is the third day it becomes violent. Jack is the only one who’s violent, he’s around a lot more, there are new questions. 

Why this base? 

Why now? 

Do you know anything about the arms sales to Al-qatala? 

Have you ever been to Urzikstan? 

Why kill an innocent doctor? 

Why insulin? 

Why are you betraying 141? 

Why?

Jack is the only one who will look you in the eye, he likes to look you in the eyes but he’s not kind. You become numb to the attacks, the repetitiveness of the torture, you hate that word, torture, it makes you feel guilty. You’re not guilty. Or maybe you are. 

“I wouldn’t use insulin.” You say after a particularly rough session. 

“What’s that?” jack asks, his face up in yours but you can still only just make out his features, nose, lips, chin, in your blurry haze he just looks angry. 

“If I was going to kill him I wouldn’t use insulin, too easy to be traced.” He doesn't like that answer, he doesn’t like anything you say if it’s true or not. 

You enjoy Gaz’s visit’s, he’s the member of 141 you had not met yet, he brings you food, soup or rice mostly. He doesn't question you, doesn't talk to you. Just tries to feed you food, or at least swallow gulps of water that burn your throat. He doesn’t need to do this for you, you don’t know him, he makes you feel strangely guilty. You used to spit out the food not accepting anything from him, when he said they would start tube feeding you, you relented accepting the spoonful's of thick soup or rice and beans. He’s got kind eyes. 

You don’t see Simon or Johnny anymore, maybe they’ve given up on you, maybe they don’t care. Jack tells you they don’t care. Price is there sometimes you think, it’s getting harder to tell, the passage of time becoming almost impossible to follow, you think it’s been 3 days, maybe 4, maybe 5. Your stomach growls, you haven’t seen the sunlight in days. Your body hurts from being upright all the time. 

“You should give her a break.” It’s Simon’s voice that pulls you out of your half conscious state. You see him stood in the door way, all black, his face covered. It’s not the voice you know, not the kind voice you’re used to it’s something different. It makes you shiver, makes the hairs stand up on your body. You try not to cry, only letting tears fall down your face after Gaz has been, then you know you’ll be left alone for a few hours. You don’t want to let them break you but it’s becoming harder to think.    

Someone bursts bursts through the door to the room pinning Jack to the wall. The noise makes you jump and you try to lift your head up but it’s too hard, your neck hurts. You blink hearing shouting, then you feel hands on your face, it feels like Johnny’s hands they’re warm he’s forcing you to look at his face. Everything is blurry you try to squint. You feel movement behind you. 

“I’m so sorry it took us so long love.” It’s Johnny’s voice you’re sure, your head is spinning though, you can’t tell. Your eyes move past Johnny, you think you see Simon, you think that’s him, you feel your head slump in Johnny’s hand as your restraints are cut lose. You must of blacked out for a second because the next thing you know is being on the floor. Johnny scoops you up in his arms and you lean up against his chest. 

“it's over now, we've got you.” Johnny whispers in your ears. You’re blinded by lights as Johnny carries you out to the room to the medbay. You recognise the smell, that’s a good thing you’re not totally broken, you can smell the clean sheets, the smell of antiseptic. There are hands all over you now, people touching you, so many lights. You reach for Johnny, where did he go? You start to panic trying to pull yourself up. Is it a trick? Are they doing this to finally try and break you? 

“Johnny!” You call searching for his hands. You feel a sharp pain travel down your arm. You feel your breath catch in your throat, your body being pressed down. Maybe this is the end you’re in too much pain and too tired to tell. You feel your body slump down as ringing grows louder in your ears, it doesn’t take long before everything goes black. 

——————————   

Johnny wakes to Simon’s hands on his shoulders. He looks over at your body still unconscious, still with tubes shoved down your throat. Simon pulls a chair up next to him, Simon’s started caring less and less who sees them together, especially at night. 

“The doc’s say the swelling in her head’s gone down.” Johnny says leaning forward in his chair.

“When was the last time you slept?” Simon asks him. 

“Got a nice kip before you woke me.” Johnny replies. Simon sighs, his hand running up the back of Johnny’s neck. 

“You really should get some sleep, some proper sleep.” Simon says. Johnny scoffs. 

“4 days,” he says, looking back up at you. 

“4 day’s, we let her suffer.” Johnny says quieter. Simon sighs his forehead resting on Johnny. Simon know’s how guilty Johnny feels, he feels the same too, he’s just better at hiding it. 

“Come.” Simon says getting up extending his hand out for Johnny. Johnny looks up at him blinking. 

“Give me five minutes.” Simon pleads. Johnny sighs standing up and following him. He lets Simon guide him all the way to the dorms into Simon’s room. Johnny has never left the bedside since you had been moved to Damascus. Simon had tried to get some alone time with him but he can tell Johnny’s guilt weighs heavy on his shoulders, he want’s to be there when you wake.

Simon pulls Johnny into his room, locking the door. Johnny tries to protest but Simon is too quick, his hands guiding Johnny’s hips pushing him against the wall. Simon’s hand slips under the front of his mask pulling it off over his head, he looks up at Johnny his thumb stroking his cheek. Simon looks almost sad, he can see the pain in Johnny’s eyes, the anger, he feels it too.

Simon presses his lips onto Johnny, forcing his tongue in his mouth as his hands reach under his shirt. Johnny seems to relax for a second enjoying the taste of Simon on his lips, playing with his tongue. Simon pulls away moving to Johnny’s neck planting little kisses all the way down to his collar bones. His head tips back hitting the wall as Simon pulls Johnny’s shirt over his head. 

“Si, we shouldn’t leave her.” Johnny says as Simon is burying his head into Johnny's neck. 

“She’ll be fine.” Simon says his voice low, almost a groan, as he continues to run his tongue down Johnny’s neck, Johnny’s hands moving up Simon’s back eventually running his fingers through his hair. Johnny doesn’t fight Simon, enjoying the feel of his husbands hands on his body as Simon’s hands slip under Johnny’s waistband pulling his trousers and boxers down. Simon is moving slow, slow and gentle working his hands down Johnny’s stomach to his abdomen, Johnny is almost desperate gripping Simon’s hair as he moves his tongue round Johnny’s body. 

“Si..” Johnny moans as Simon’s hands find their way to Johnny’s semi-hard cock. Simon want’s to almost beg Johnny to relax, instead running his hand up and down his shaft. Johnny presses his forehead on Simon’s chest moaning as he pushes his hands slipping under Simon’s shirt. Johnny trembles as Simon uses both his hands to pleasure him, his breathing becoming faster. Simon keeps Johnny’s body pressed up against the wall as Johnny starts thrusting his hips, fucking Simon’s hands. Johnny had felt this many times before, Simon giving him pleasure, but never quite like this, his emotions high, endorphins pumping through his body, Johnny starts to tense again Simon pulls away, a whimper leaving Johnny’s lips. 

“On the bed.” Simon says guiding him over as Johnny blindly follows his instructions laying flat. Simon takes his boots and the rest of his pants off flinging them to the side. Johnny lays his head back on the pillows as Simon licks the precum off Johnny’s tip making him moan his hands desperately trying to grab Simon’s hair. Simon smiles then thrusts his mouth round his cock taking him all the way to the hilt.

The pleasure is almost overwhelming, Simon can feel it, Johnny’s body shaking a mix of pleasure and stress. Simon doesn't stop his hands running up Johnny’s chest as he positions himself in a more comfortably to suck him off. Johnny moans and gasps as Simon’s tongue presses into the underside of Johnny’s shaft, Simon can feel him twitching in his mouth enjoying each one as he get’s closer to the edge.

Simon can read Johnny’s body like a book, Johnny thinks he’s sly hiding his movements, his cheeky side glances, the heavy petting Johnny does when he’s in the mood, the way his fingers move around Simon’s body forcing his attention. He thinks he’s good at hiding it but Simon knows him, Simon loves him and right now Simon knows he needs to make Johnny relax.

Johnny’s hips are thrusting again Simon’s hands grip his waist trying to keep it in place. Johnny moans Simon’s name as he cums. Simon likes that, hearing Johnny call his name in the heat of the moment, Simon feels his own cock twitching in his pants as he rides Johnny through the orgasm making sure that Johnny is well and truly satisfied before pulling his mouth away. Simon enjoys the taste of Johnny’s cum in his mouth, the feel of his hot seed hitting the back of his throat. Johnny is still panting when Simon moves, sliding up next to him pulling his head on his chest.

Johnny moves to rest on his chest his still heartbeat still racing, Simon takes exaggerated breaths and Johnny subconsciously follows him. Simon reaches down pulling the duvet over Johnny, kissing his face running his fingers through his hair. 

“You need to rest,” Simon says wrapping his arms round Johnny stroking his back. Johnny’s breathing starts to steady as Simon lowers his voice.

“You do this on purpose,” Johnny says sleepily. Simon smiles, he does do it on purpose. Johnny needs to rest, he’s no good to anyone if he can’t think straight.  

“I’ll wake you if anything happens, I promise.” Simon says kissing his forehead.   

——————————   

The knock at the door pulls Johnny out his sleep, he jolts awake almost fighting over Simon to get out of bed. 

“Easy.” Simon says as he moves swinging his legs out so Johnny can get up.

“You said you’d wake me if anything happened.” Johnny sounds frustrated puling his trousers and shirt on. 

“This is the first thing that’s happened.” Johnny throws Simon’s mask at him opening the door before he gets chance to put it on. It’s only Price.

“She’s awake, she’s asking for you.” Price says. Johnny shoves his feet into his boots as Simon gets up off the bed moving over to the door. Johnny looks back at Simon smiling and rushes out the room pushing past Price. Simon follows Price stopping him in the doorway. 

“What do you want to tell her about Jack?” Price asks. Simon sighs. 

“Laswell found anything?” Simon asks walking with Price, he shakes his head. 

“Still looking for a connection, he’ll be punished for the way he questioned her, demoted at the very least, depends on what they feel like. Theres no evidence he spoofed her card we’re lucky there were so many witnesses. We’re lucky we could clear her name so quick.” Price says. It still took 4 days. 

“Think he can justify his actions?” Simon asks. 

“Let’s see, we’ve got other things to focus on now.” Price walks into her room Simon hangs back for a second. A wave of guilt washing over him, he just wanted to hold her jump into bed with her, apologise. 4 days we let her suffer, Johnny’s words replaying in his head. Never again, he promises himself. 

Next part

[scoonsalicious]

2.2 Major*

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (f-receiving), fingering, edging, squirting)

Word Count: 2.9k

Previously On...: You told Lily off, Bucky offered you a ride home on his bike.

A/N: So, my job decided not to renew my contract for the upcoming year, so I've been pissed off, annoyed and frustrated. Please enjoy this extra part today because I could use the extra love <3. Also, it's smut!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

God, you thought as you held on to Bucky a little tighter than was probably appropriate, he felt fucking amazing. Like a marble statue of a Greek god, come to life. You honestly could not believe how well this evening had ended up going, even after your final discussion with Lily. You’d been worried, after you’d said what you said to her, that Bucky would be upset with you for how you talked to his best friend but you quickly realized that, if he was the kind of guy who agreed with her line of thinking, well, then he wasn’t the kind of guy you would be interested in getting to know better, anyway. Thank goodness that didn’t seem to be the case. 

It was colder than you expected for an early September night as you whipped toward the City, and you found yourself pressing into Bucky’s back. You’d been a little disappointed when you saw he’d had a motorcycle instead of a car– it was impossible to actually hold a conversation with him on a bike– but you were more than happy to snuggle up to him like this, instead, and judging by the way his abdominal muscles contracted when you rested your cheek against his upper back, he seemed to be enjoying it, too.

It was about a forty-five minute drive from the bar where you’d met the Avengers to your condo building, and by the time you reached the city limits, it had begun to drizzle. Once Bucky pulled up to your building, it was raining in full force, and the two of you were soaked.

Once you’d both gotten off the bike and secured the helmets, you made a mad dash to the awning of your building. “I’m so sorry,” you said, laughing at how ridiculous you both must look. “If I had known it was going to open up like this, I would have insisted on taking the train.”

Bucky moved a strand of rain-slicked hair away from your face. “I would still have insisted on driving you,” he said with a smile.

You both stared at each other for a moment, and then spoke at the same time: “Can I walk you up?” Bucky asked at the same time you said “Would you like to come up?” You both chuckled.

“I would feel awful, sending you right back out into the rain,” you said as you let the doorman hold your building’s front door open for you both. “Come inside and warm up a little; dry off.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, following you into the elevator and you noticed him trying, so hard, not to notice the way your erect nipples strained against the wet fabric of your shirt as it clung to your chest.

When you reached your floor, he trailed behind you, gently holding onto the hem of your jacket as he followed you to your door, as if he were afraid of losing you in the hallway. You tried to mentally run through what your condo had looked like before you’d left for the evening. The cleaners had come today while you were at work, and you were fairly sure you hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying around. 

You unlocked the door and slipped inside, Bucky close behind. Locking the door behind you, you turned to face him, watching as he studied the main living room of your home. “This is nice,” he said, taking everything in. 

“Thanks.” You slipped out of your jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. “Let me get you a towel,” you offered, moving toward your linen closet. 

No sooner had you opened the closet door than the lights in your apartment went out. “Doll?” you heard Bucky call to you from the living room. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you called back, grateful that your emergency candles were also located in the linen closet. “I’ll be right there.”

Bucky looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of your living room. “Looks like a good chunk of the neighborhood’s out, too,” he said. “Glad we got off that elevator when we did, otherwise, we’d be stuck in there instead of here.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you brought out the towels and a handful of candles. The idea of being trapped in an elevator for an undetermined amount of time with a man this beautiful would not necessarily have been a bad thing. “Here,” you said, handing Bucky some of the candles. “Will you help me light these?”

You and Bucky worked companionably for the next few minutes, lighting the candles and setting them around the living room until you’d created a warm, glowing perimeter. It would almost have been romantic, if it had been done on purpose. You handed Bucky a towel. “Here you go,” you said, then reached for your phone. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

“Not at all,” he said, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Put on that band you like; the one that plays that song we danced to.”

You smiled. “Yeah, okay.” You navigated to your music player and opened up your Bleachers playlist, putting it on shuffle. You turned the volume down low enough so that you could comfortably talk over it while still listening to the music. “Can I get you something to drink?” you asked, trying to be a good hostess in spite of the current circumstances.

“I’m good,” Bucky said, taking the towel from his head. You had to suppress a snicker– his hair was going in every direction.

“What?” he asked, a small frown playing across his lips.

“Nothing,” you said, trying not to giggle. “You just look like an adorable drowned rat. Come here.” You started walking toward Bucky, and he toward you, until you met each other in the middle of your living room floor. “Let me,” you said, taking the towel from him and running it across his hair again. He bent down to allow you easier access to the top of his head, and when you pulled your hands away, he looked up at you through his lashes, stealing your breath with how beautiful he was in the candlelight. 

“Thank you, again,” you swallowed, “for driving me home.” Before he could reply, you stood up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The action seemed to catch you both by surprise, because you each froze. There was a sudden shift in the air, a coiled tension; it was like suddenly, you both knew what was about to happen between you. You knew what was going to happen, and that it was inevitable. 

“I… don’t ever do this,” you whispered, lips so close to his face that they were fluttering against his skin. 

“Me, either,” he told you, his voice gone husky. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I want to,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “Really badly.”

“Me, too. So bad.”

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but in an instant, his hands were on your waist, yours around his neck as your mouths found one another. He tasted like a hint of bourbon as his tongue made its way into your mouth, and you moaned as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“Major,” he groaned, moving his lips from your mouth, down your neck, and to the covered peaks of your breasts. He sucked at a hardened nipple through the fabric of your drenched shirt and you arched your back, pressing your flesh further into his mouth. “Fuck,” he moaned. 

“Please, Bucky,” you heard yourself whine desperately as he continued to suckle on you through your shirt. “Oh fuck, please.”

He pulled his mouth away from your breast. “‘Please,’ what, pretty girl? You gotta tell me what you want with your words.”

His tone was so seductive, so commanding, that you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “Please… touch me, Sergeant,” you begged, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. “Everywhere.” You found his mouth with yours once again, and could feel him smirk into your lips as he kissed you.

“When you ask so nicely, doll…” he said, and you felt his hands grasp the hem of your shirt, tugging it up over your torso. You raised your arms above your head to assist him in removing it, and you stood before him, top completely bare.

“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching out a hand to grab and knead at the soft mound of your breast. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You took a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you kissed him again, gently guiding you both down to the floor until he had himself propped up on one elbow above you. “Off,” you panted, pawing at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but Bucky hesitated. 

“What is it?” you asked gently, when it was obvious he was reluctant. 

Bucky avoided looking you in the eye. “I’ve got… scars,” he said, embarrassment written across his face. “They’re… they’re not pretty.”

You leaned up to kiss him. “Do any of them keep your dick from working?” you asked.

Bucky barked a startled laugh. “...No.”

“Then take your clothes off, Sergeant,” you said, smiling at him. “That’s a direct order.” 

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” Grinning, Bucky leaned back on his haunches and tugged his shirt over his head. If you’d had a cock, it would have sprung to attention at the sight of his muscles, the six pack that rippled across his stomach, the Adonis belt that pointed to unseen delights still to be revealed. You barely even noticed the ragged lines of scar tissue along his shoulder.

That was, however, until you caught the reflection of the candlelight in the metal of his left arm. That was unexpected, you thought to yourself, but by no means a dealbreaker. You bit your bottom lip as you studied him. Despite the scars and his obvious prosthesis, you couldn’t help but think he was perfect.

You reached down to the buttons of your jeans and began undoing them, desperate to get them off your body and him into it. 

“Let me help you, doll,” Bucky said. With swiftness but exquisite care, he rolled your pants down. You lifted your hips to assist him and he gently shimmied the wet fabric off of you, until he was pulling one leg off, then the next, leaving you in just a pair of pink lace panties. You squirmed slightly under his appraising gaze before he hooked his index fingers into either side of the waistband of your underwear and began to–agonizingly slowly– pull them down your thighs. 

When he’d moved them all the way down your legs, he fisted the material in his metal hand, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling. “God,” he moaned as he palmed himself through the jeans he was still wearing. “You smell divine, doll.”

His words sent another rush of wetness seeping from you, and you were convinced you were going to leave a puddle on the floor if he didn’t do something to you soon. “Bucky,” you moaned.

Tossing your panties aside, Bucky leaned forward and, placing one hand on each of your knees, slowly spread your legs open until you were fully on display before him. Suddenly self-conscious, you tried to close your legs, but Bucky stopped you with a hungry look. “Please don’t, doll,” he whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes. “You’re so fucking beautiful… I just wanna look at you a minute.”

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky exhale as Bucky positioned himself between your legs, lowering himself down so that he was lying on his stomach, his face mere inches from your center. He ran a hand along the inside of each of your legs, from your knees to your thighs, and you gasped at the difference in temperature and sensation– one soft and warm, the other hard and cold. When he reached the apex, he tucked a thumb on either side of your outer folds and ran them up your slit, opening you to him like a fresh, ripe peach.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, and you could feel the breath of his words hot against your core. “I need to take a taste, doll,” he whispered, and before you could fully prepare yourself, his mouth was on you. Your hips immediately bucked at the hot contact, his large hands continuing to spread you wide as his tongue explored you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, trying not to vibrate out of your skin with the pleasure of it all. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god! Don’t stop.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away from you just enough to murmur “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” before diving in again. His mouth was magic as he worked you, from nipping and sucking on your clit, to thrusting his tongue in and out of you, to gently nibbling the sensitive skin of your engorged outer lips. Everything he did was heaven, and you felt your orgasm building with rapid speed.

“Oh, shit,” you cried as his tongue lapped at your weeping hole. “Oh shit, Bucky, I’m gonna cum!”

He pulled his mouth away from you, leaving you gasping at the lack of contact. “Not yet, doll,” he said with a filthy grin. “Not yet.”

He proceeded to play you with his mouth, as if you were an instrument and he was a world class musician, but he wouldn’t let you cum. Every time you got close, he would back off, taking you just far enough before pulling you back from the ledge. It was frustrating the shit out of you, but it was magnificent. You had never been edged so well in your entire life.

Finally, finally, after what felt like hours, it was too much. You needed to cum or you felt like you were going to die. “Bucky,” you cried, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets and feeling the space wet with tears. “Bucky, please! Please, let me cum! I need it, Bucky! Need it so fucking bad!” 

His tongue found your clit again, dancing circles over the sensitive nub, and you felt one of his hands let go of you, only to have two of his thick fingers sliding into your entrance with no resistance. He finger fucked you while he sucked on your clit, and the combined sensation, after all the edging, was driving you crazy. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. “So close.”

Almost as if taking your words as a challenge, Bucky curved his fingers inside of you, dragging them again and again against your g-spot until you were gasping. The pressure was so intense; you’d never felt anything like it before– not once in all your married years had your ex-husband ever brought you anywhere close to where Bucky had brought you in one night.

You were a kettle, about to boil over; a caldera long overdue for its world-ending eruption. You were ecstasy personified, and he hadn’t even brought you to climax yet.

And then, you exploded, screaming his name so loudly you were worried your neighbors would call the police. 

It was a release unlike any you had ever felt before– a double shot of pleasure, and you were positive that, for a moment, you lost consciousness, or at the very least, your soul had temporarily vacated your body. When you came back to yourself, Bucky was leaning over your face, grinning from ear to ear.

“Did you know you were gonna do that, doll?” he asked as he bent down to kiss you. You could taste the tang of your arousal on his tongue, along with something else, undefinable and unique.

“D-do w-what?” you asked, your own voice sounding shaky and far away. Your whole body was trembling, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsating through you. 

Bucky lied down next to you, pulling your naked, sweat-slicked body into his, and wrapping his arms around you. “You squirted all over my face, doll! It was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

You laughed through chattering teeth. “I’ve… ne-never d-d-done that be-before,” you said. “F-fuck.”

“I’ll say.” Bucky nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you something? A glass of water? A blanket?”

You shook your head. “Ju-just ne-ne-need a mi-mi-minute to c-come b-b-back int-t-to my b-b-b-body,” you said. “H-h-hold m-me? P-p-p-please?”

“Yeah, of course, doll,” he said, pulling you closer into him. He reached up and pulled a throw blanket off of the arm of your couch, wrapping it snuggly around you both, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of him.

“Y-you d-d-didn’t c-c-cum,” you said, feeling the trembling decrease, but not ready to stop all together. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Bucky said, kissing your head. “Watching you come undone like that? I fucking came in my pants like a goddamn teenager. It was unbelievable.” His tone turned serious. “Did you like it? Was it okay?”

Using all the energy you had left in your body, you turned to face him, noticing the concerned look in his eye in the candlelight. “Th-that w-w-was the s-single b-b-best org-a-asm of m-my entire f-f-fucking life.” You kissed him again, desperately clinging to his forearm to ground you. “Th-th-thank you.”

Bucky smiled. “If you don’t mind, then,” he said, burying his face into your shoulder, “I’d like to give you a couple more before morning, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sh-sh-shit,” you laughed. “Y-y-yes p-please.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[numinousher]

“This is nice.”

You and Jungkook, after having gone on a ride, ended up on this hill that oversaw the city.

You two were leaning against his bike, his phone playing his r&b playlist that he said he liked listening to during nights like these. He was smoking and he had even asked permission—much to your surprise—if he could do so. With a nod of confirmation, he relaxed even more, in his element, as he blew out smoke from his lips.

“It is, huh?” He asked. “I usually come here to think. I found it after I got pissed at my job and needed to go somewhere. Sienna made me lose my fucking brain.”

You snort in agreement. “It’s a nice place, though. This will be something you’ll have to yourself now.”

“Well… and with you.”

“Why, I feel so honored.” You sweetly smiled. He rolled his eyes rather playfully and looked ahead towards the scenery of the twinkling stars and the buildings. You stayed silent before you said something he was feeling. “I’m not ready for them to move back, you know…?”

Jungkook sighed, digging his hand into his pocket while the other held the cigarette between his pointer and middle finger.

“Me neither,” he admitted with a breathy tone. He blew out smoke. “I just… I’m so fucking hurt still. I can’t even. I want to just smack the shit out of Jong-seok for both me and you.”

“And I’ll hit Sienna for both of us.”

He smiled a little. “Don’t do that, idiot. You’ll hurt your hands.” He looked away as he grinned in amusement at your scoff of surprise. He took another hit.

“My hands can handle it.”

“I didn’t say they couldn’t,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and huffed, crossing your arms. You grumbled under your breath, clearly defending yourself. “Just don’t want Sienna’s filth on your hands. What if you get infected?”

“With what?”

“The disease of cheating,” he answered in such a serious tone you acknowledged and remembered his humor was much more different than yours. He had a dry humor, sometimes dark, but he tried to crack a smile sometimes so people could see he was kidding. You got used to it in the few weeks together, you could only let out a snort of laughter now. “I’m being serious! What if you cheat on me with another roommate huh? Are you going to give another person’s roommate the cookies you bake for me? Who knows.”

You smile. “You know, I can never betray you like that. You’re the only one who can handle me crying at a movie I’ve watched 7 times a day sometimes.”

“6,” he corrected, dozing off, clearly not meaning to let that out. “Anyway, we need to let those two assholes realize that we’re fine.”

“How? They’ve seen our twitters at this point and our instagram stories.” You scoffed as you remembered what Jungkook had told you. “I can’t believe Sienna is still stalking your account.”

“I dicked her down good that’s why, she can’t stop thinking about me,” he muttered, blowing out smoke. You scrunch your nose in disgust before a horrified look crosses your face.

“Jungkook.”

“What?”

“We’re going to hear them fucking, dude,” you dramatically whispered out as if someone were hearing in the bushes—there was no one. “What the hell?”

“Then we’ll pretend we’re fucking but we’ll do it louder,” he said as if what he said wasn’t absurd. You let out a loud ���huh?’ as you processed his words and his calm nature. “What?”

“We are going to pretend?”

He nodded and let his hand with the cigarette rest on his lap. “Yeah, we’ll pretend, princess. No, matter of fact, why don’t we pretend like we’re fucking dating? Those assholes think we’re affected, like we’re moping after them—”

“We are…” you commented, though it fell to deaf ears as Jungkook continued to think while you thought about the nickname he gave you.

“We can’t give them that satisfaction,” he scoffed out, more determined. “At all. They cheated on us and they get to be all happy? Hell, no. So, we’re going to pretend to be a couple for tomorrow while they show up because one thing they will do is show off.”

You bit your lip. “I don’t know… I'm a terrible liar. I can’t lie and I don’t know if Jongseok will remember the tell I have that always reveals I’m lying...”

“What is it?”

“I scratch the tip of my nose,” you mumble.

“I’ll just grab your hand,” Jungkook said as if it was the easiest thing. Maybe you were only overthinking it because that’s what you were good at, but you’re afraid Jongseok will see through you. “Listen… Do you want them to think we’re miserable?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Look, fake dating isn’t going to be where I do things without your consent and where I play around with your feelings,” Jungkook clarified. “I’m not that type of person, I don’t play around and fuck up. Fake dating will be us just… putting on a show for them. I’ll do things at your pace and I’ll respect you.”

“Are we really doing this?”

“That’s what friends are for and we’re just helping each other.”

He stepped on his cigarette as you gasped dramatically, fanning your eyes as if you were crying.

“I just got called a friend.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You softie!”

He scoffed. He turned to you. “Since we’re doing this… we need a safe word just in case you don’t want to do this anymore or if I don’t want do this.”

You nodded in agreement.

“What should it be?”

“2.”

“Why?” You frowned, confused at the random number.

“Your account,” he answered. “It has a 2 in it.”

“You think about me so much, I live in your head rent free,” you chuckled, shaking back his hand. He gripped your hand a little tighter before he let go. “But, are you sure this is a good idea?”

He hummed. “We’ll be okay. You can be annoying sometimes but… you’re not that bad.”

“Aw, thank you!”

He shook his head with an amused smile before sticking out his hand. “Come on… let’s go on a little walk.”

“In the dark?” You exclaimed.

“Come on, princess.”

2U⭑.ᐟ ── O1O. safe word

BEFORE MASTERLIST AFTER

NOTE: im not late updating you are

TAGLIST: @an-ever-angry-bi @parapiop7 @renoirgoh @ldysmfrst @futuristicenemychaos @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @han-nah-banana @somehowukook @joonsprettygf @svnbangtansworld @butnotmontana @iammeandmeisiam ... (open)

[takusan-no-ai]

Can’t Fix Her

PAIRING: Aura x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: Aura never would’ve guessed she’d fall for a powerful mage human.

(Y/N) was fast asleep in his tent, having placed a protective barrier around himself. The cold air kept him in a deep slumber, so deep he didn’t realize until it was too late what had happened.

Bandits. They were barely average mages, but they still clearly knew a thing or two. They removed the barried surrounding (Y/N)’s tent, and tried to rob him. He awoke immediately, already pointing his finger towards the trespassers.

“What? Are we supposed to be scared of a little finger?” One of them had said, not bothering to quiet down his voice. (Y/N) moved his finger towards his own lips, shushing the group.

They all looked at him bewildered. “Unlike mine, your mana is quite small. The barrier was hiding my mana so I could sleep peacefully.” (Y/N) spoke in a just barely audible whisper. “I have to work tomorrow morning…killing demons that is.”

It was like a sudden dread had befallen the group of bandits as they put two and two together; he was here to kill demons and had to hide his mana, meaning they were right next to a demon camp. The moment they opened the tent door, hundreds of figures stood before them. All headless soldiers armored from the ground and up.

And at the center of it all stood the infamous Aura The Guillotine. She had her usual smirk with her Scales of Obedience in hand. The bandits cowered behind (Y/N) as he stood before her, staff in hand.

Aura’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance, her face losing its color, and her hands shaking in a cold sweat. His mana was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was even comparable to that woman; Serie.

“Kill—?!” Aura couldn’t even finish her command. Her troops were dwindling right before her eyes, all of them falling immobile. She fell to her knees. The distraught was plain to see on her face. (Y/N) had finished killing them all and strode up towards her.

“You’re not the demon I was after, but I can use you to make them all surrender as I execute them. You’ll be making my job a whole lot easier.”

She snarled, “I’ll never help a worthless human!” (Y/N) sighed. He pointed his staff at her, the light gone from his eyes. The only thing reflected in them was Aura herself. And what she saw pissed her off; she was scared…and blushing.

“Wait! What do you mean you weren’t after her?” One of the bandits asked. (Y/N) slowly turned around to face him while keeping a firm grip on Aura.

“She was following you. She would have eaten you the moment you went to sleep. You’re too weak to join her army, so your only worth is being her dinner.” He answered coldly. The bandits shifted their gaze warily towards Aura. She smiled at them. The fear they felt reached an all time high as they all collectively booked it out of there.

Now alone, (Y/N) crouched down towards Aura. “Either help me or die. Your choice.” Aura couldn’t believe she was considering helping him. But his power was undeniably greater than hers, or any demon she knows for that matter. Plus, she couldn’t deny how attractive that power seemed; to be even stronger than their dead king, and just a human at that?

Aura blushed. “With you by my side, I’d have every demon and human alike cowering before me.” She boldly stated. (Y/N) frowned.

“I’m your master. Get it wrong again and I’ll amputate you.”

Despite saying that, he still gave Aura a hand and lifted her up. Immediately he put a binding spell on her and walked towards his mission.

…

…

Some months had passed since their first meeting, and Aura had been a headache. Every. Single. Day. Trying to eat humans, biting constantly on (Y/N), and an attitude problem. Yet (Y/N) still put up with it.

The duo were currently relaxing in an old shack outside of town; (Y/N) would have gotten a room at a bar, but Aura being a well known demon made that impossible.

“Aura, get off.” (Y/N) could feel his blood vessel ready to pop. Aura was siting in his lap as he read a grimoire. Her horns kept almost poking him in the eyes, and for a small woman she was heavy.

“But I’m sooooo bored! If only some totally not heartless human would spare a moment to entertain his minion.” She was blatantly telling him to pay attention to her.

He smirked. “I didn’t realize a demon could be so damn needy.” Aura glared at him, scales in hand.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What? You’d lose and be even more of a servant to me.”

“Hmph!” Aura grew increasingly annoyed with (Y/N). “Is it so wrong for me to want to be the focus of my favorite human?” She mumbled. “Power like yours is rare to come by. And I want to make it and its owner mine.”

“Make me yours?” He leaned over Aura, pining her between the table and himself. “But you’re mine.” He eyed her down, smiling all the while. Aura blushed ever so slightly and leaned forward.

“Prove it.”

- Fin

[runawaymun]

Two takeaways right now that I really cannot stress enough: 1) We cannot afford to keep spouting the "The American public is fucking stupid" and "Republicans are dumb and uneducated" rhetoric. I have already seen a new resurgence in the past 24 hours. Yes, it's true: One in five Americans are functionally illiterate. Many of them live in states like New Mexico and Mississippi, below the poverty line, with underfunded educational institutions, and very little access to resources to help them. A staggering amount of USAmericans read below a sixth grade level. This is not a moral failing. This is not their fault. This is a societal failing, an infrastructure failing. We've been failing the rust belt for decades and it's only getting worse. And it does not help our cause if we continue to turn up our noses and say they're all stupid cousin-kissing hillbillies who deserve what they're getting. That only helps Trump. That is how we got here. The division only helps the people in power to keep up the grift. As long as we continue to disparage and underestimate working people from the Midwest and the American South, we will continue to lose. They are tired of being condescended to, and that is why they like Trump. He at least pretends (badly, but he at least pretends) that he cares about their interests.

Remember this bit of propaganda?

All the way back from 1754?

We have to stop fighting each other. We cannot afford to continue saying 'Trumpers are stupid and hateful and uneducated' and continue this us-against-them mentality. It is JUST as bad as my Midwestern parents who say that Democrats are evil satanic child-killing communists. I grew up steeped in that environment. I fully believed it. Many people are just as scared as you are. They are working with the information they have. They believe they are doing the right thing, just as you do. They are watching their communities literally disintegrate and the only person that promises to bring them jobs is Donald Fucking Trump. And he is employing every propaganda tactic in the book to grift them. A big part of the lies the Republican party loves to spout is that they're persecuted and they're underdogs -- I grew up in this environment. It stems from an Evangelical worldview that to be righteous is to be persecuted. Disparaging these people, insulting them, condescending them, only feeds this narrative. The only way I got out of this mentality was by having access to community college, meeting kind people outside my bubble who were willing to have a conversation with me, and finally getting education that wasn't steeped in evangelical propaganda.

I invite you all to go and watch Megan Phelps-Roper's TEDtalk (or read her book, it's excellent) about how she left her family's cult. The only thing that broke through that fog of 'We are persecuted and therefore righteous' was when people stopped throwing cups of hot liquid and piss at her (when she was a child!), and started being kind and empathetic. We all can stand to learn a lot from stories like hers. The second that evil god-hating people started being kind to her was the second she began to question everything she'd been taught.

Yes, it's very easy to look at these people spewing hateful rhetoric and label them as evil. But they're not. The people exploiting all of us are evil. The people exploiting fear and division are evil. We need to call for accountability with news outlets, to fund grass-roots efforts to give adults with educational gaps access to help. Many of them simply could not continue going to school because their families were impoverished and they had to work so they could fucking eat. Many of them have undiagnosed disabilities because they do not have insurance to even go to a doctor. To be ignorant is not a moral failing. Willful ignorance? Absolutely. But ignorance, no. The only thing we can do now is be kind, invite people into discussion, and remember that the only enemy is the oppressor in power who views everybody as pawns and dollar signs. We are all the same to them.

2) Please do not fall into the trap of thinking this means that your vote does not count. Voting is more important than ever. You need to vote in your local elections. You need to. The Senate and the House are the lawmakers and the people in charge of declaring war. They have term limits. They are not untouchable. They are the only people now who are capable of checking Trump. And your local mayors, councils, etc are the people who are going to make the real difference between public healthcare, good education, censorship, civil rights, housing, etc. States have an immense amount of freedom to operate. That is how I have access to incredible free healthcare in mine. That is how we have one of the best public transit systems in the country. That is how we placed penalties on industries and got rid of smog and heavy pollution in the 70s. That is how we have gay bars and drag brunches and well-funded libraries. That is all local-government stuff. If you want your communities to change, you HAVE to vote locally. Please, please, please do not give up and think your vote doesn't matter. It does. It matters immensely.

[1-danid]

Dating Teen Vi

Dating Arc 1 Vi would include..

Vander loving you as another kid. You may have your own patents but he still sees you as one of his children. Meaning he gives Vi the talk instead of you because he feels she'll need it more.

Teen Vi is 100% shy when it comes to PDA. She will hold your hand in public but that's about it. On the rare occasion when she's a bit jealous she may give your check or lip a kiss but it's rare.

When it's just the two of you or 3 of you powder can see her soft side. She'd go all out and be attacking your face with kisses and love.

At this stage you guys wouldn't know your love language so expect a bit of everything at this stage as you're trying it all out for the first time.

I don't think she can cook, no one in that band can. So often you'd cook meals for the group and bake treats for her and Powder.

If you go on the "jobs" with the group, Vi would be protective of you. Yeah she knows you can kickass but she doesn't want to lose you or to get you hurt.

Also Mylo would be annoying cause she'd stop for a sec to admire your beauty and he'd be like

" I could do better than that. She's just showing off at this point."

You'd flip him off whilst flipping to another building. And when you get to wherever you are going to rob she'd let you take personal things for yourself and not to sell. Honestly she wouldn't care what you do she'd just watch you for a minute with a love sick smile on her face.

The others would 100% tease her about it. And she's blushing a bit and playing it off. They'd believe for the first few times until it becomes a daily routine.

She'd get you little gifts when you don't do jobs together and surprise you with them

If you don't go on jobs with the group you'd originally babysit Powder. Keeping her distracted and happy while the others are out risking your lives.

You weren't a fighter so you never asked to go to jobs. However you did learn how to treat basic ailments to help Vi and Claggor when they got badly hurt.

 Vi would 100% get you little gifts from the jobs she does without you surprising you with them. She'd be like;

"We were out at this one house, and I saw something. It reminded me so much of you. It was perfect and beautiful so I thought you should have it."

And then she'll give you a beautiful necklace. Or something romantic that you appreciate because of your relationship.

You'd bake her cupcakes whenever she's had a hard day and you think she needs to relax. The two of you will just cuddle as you sing a soft song to her. For example, falling for you by peachy!

Because you're always baking her  sweet stuff and 'cause she loves your cake and cups she calls you…

CUPCAKE 

I'm not sorry for that. But on the note of pet name's teen Vi will call you anything to see you flustered.

 She just loves you so much and you love her too

She’s definitely the big spoon and powder loves you more than vi (you didn’t hear that from me)

Like she see Vi as her hero but she sees how Vi looks at you and see you as Vi hero

You’re literally the coolest kid in Vander’s house

Plus you can work the bar, you have a lot of free time, so you’re able to earn a little for shifts at the bar

When Vi leaves powder behind you’d both have a big cussing 100%

Like you know how scared and confused Powder is and refuse to go and help because Powder needs support as well

Powder (bless her) would 100% influence you and beg you to bring her to the fight

One look at her puppy dog eyes, and you would cave and bring her in once she promises to stay hidden

You’d bring her and miss all the signs and when the bomb goes off, you’re their trying to protect her

Vi slaps (I refuse to write the p word) both you and her sister

Cue another heated argument you’d slap her back and cuss her out for touching you and Powder

And you’d break up.

So pissed you tell her to “fucking go to hell Violet.”

And she pretty much does, you’d try your best to comfort powder

Trying to stay strong for her, yet you’d let a few tears fall at your newly broken heart, your loss of home and your loss of your friends

You don’t notice Silco and when you do you don’t trust him fully.

But you know you and Powder need a place to stay so when he accepts Powder’s hug, you lower your guard

Moreso when you see a familiar face, passed out Sevika eases your nerves

You never do find out what happened at the warehouse, but you do know you lost everyone except Powder

You wonder if you’d ever see Vi again as you take on the older sister responsibilities for Powder’s sake

A/N

I hope you enjoyed this. I feel its better than the version i posted last time. To old moots this is not a goodbye. THIS IS A REVAMP!!

TIL NEXT TIME MY LOVES

-Dani

[thewertsearch]

Karkat's becoming cognizant of all the videogame tropes in his vicinity, and he is pissed. This is what happens when you’re exposed to that damn fourth wall for too long.

Jump cut to Gamzee squatting in a dark corner somewhere, a Google results page for ICP open on his laptop, absolutely seething with anger.

[…] KANAYA: Do You Think Terezi Is Aware Of Your Interactions With Her KARKAT: I DON'T KNOW, PROBABLY? KANAYA: I Dont Want To Sound Too Meddlesome Because I Know People Dont Like That Much But Didnt You And She Used To Have A Thing Like That […] KARKAT: THE THING WHICH MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE EXISTED NOTWITHSTANDING, WHAT RIGHT WOULD SHE HAVE TO BE UPSET ABOUT ME TALKING TO JADE. KANAYA: Maybe She Thinks You Are Trying To Make Her Jealous KARKAT: OH LIKE SHE'S NOT DOING THE SAME THING TO ME BY TALKING TO THAT POMPOUS TOOL WHO'S IDIOTICALLY INSECURE ABOUT THE COLOR OF HIS EYES. […] KANAYA: Do You Actually Believe She Was Pretending KARKAT: YEAH SURE. I DUNNO

As the trolls’ party begins to unravel, so too does their intricate web of relationships. The entire John/Dave/Karkat/Terezi/Vriska situation is already a mess, and if Karkat is developing a legitimate crush on Jade as well, things might be about to go nuclear.

Forget Jade - I think Kanaya’s the one who’s really thriving from this cultural exchange.

Well, that’s certainly more convenient for me. Saves me from having to check everything with everyone, as I was originally planning to do.

Initially, I thought the trolls were just losing cohesion naturally as Project Trolling drew to a close. A lot of them won't give a shit about Project Friendship, so I assumed they'd just left to do their own thing.

This, though, seems like a pretty ominous way to describe the situation. It's like the Veil is a little too quiet, and not just because people have dispersed. Has Vriska been doing a few offscreen murders, or is something completely unrelated going on?

KANAYA: Im Returning To The Core To Deposit The Matriorb […] KARKAT: I MEAN, THAT'S GREAT, IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT TO DO WITH IT. BUT YOU CAN'T GO, I NEED YOU HERE. LOOK AROUND, SHIT IS MAYHEM. KANAYA: Ill Only Be Gone For A Few Minutes KANAYA: Anyway Youre Doing A Good Job And I Think You Can Manage To Cope With My Momentary Absense […] KARKAT: IN THAT CASE KARKAT: GOOD LUCK, HOPE IT WORKS.

These two are such good friends. They're probably my favourite platonic friend-ship in the entire comic, just on the strength of how earnest their relationship is.

Damn it, did I seriously just get jumpscared by a ‘Be Eridan’?

[multifandomworldsposts]

My Boxer

pairing: WWE!harry styles x fem!reader

warning: yelling, hickeys, making out, eating out, riding, unprotected sex, getting caught

Y/N’s POV

Harry Edward Styles, the most famous boxer that’s out there. And here’s me, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, Harry’s girlfriend almost fiancé. His fans think I’m just a groupie because there would be a lot of them at the stadiums seeing Harry or the other fighter.

One day, our worlds went downhill…

“All you fucking do is fight!” I yell at Harry.

“Because that’s my job Y/N!” He points at himself.

“You’re insane Harry! You’re insane!” I continue to yell.

“Me? I’m insane? You’re the one that hates every fucking thing I do!”

“That’s not true!”

“That photo shoot with those models, you hated that shit!”

“Harry! One of those models was flirting with you! That’s why I hated it!”

The way Harry looks at me, he knows I’m telling the truth.

“You’re such a liar!”

“You’re the liar Harry!” I point at him.

“Why is that huh?”

“Harry, I saw her looking at you and giving you a look that any groupie would give anybody who's in a sport."

"Groupies?"

"Yes! Most of your fans are groupies!"

"Y/N, I- No Y/N!"

I gather my things and try to leave but Harry tries to stop me.

"Harry, do you love me?"

"Of course I love you. Listen, I don't give a shit about any model, groupie, or anyone else, I love you more than anything. Why do you have an engagement ring on your finger?"

"Because you love me."

"Exactly honey. I won't give anyone the look I give you every time I see you in the crowd when I win." Harry holds my face.

"You mean that?"

"Y/N, you mean the world to me."

I give Harry a kiss and he kisses me back.

“I love you, okay? I love you so much, everyone in our lives knows it.” He still holds my face to look at him.

I nod. Of course, I love him, it's just I get paranoid sometimes.

A WEEK LATER

Harry has a boxing tournament on Friday, and he really wants me to come to see him but something is going on in my family's life, so I have to go to my grandma's house to talk about it, but I know Harry will be pissed but my grandma's health is more important.

"Are you sure that you're not going to the tournament? You know it's so important to my career." Harry says.

"I know that Harry, my grandma's health is so important right now!" I get angry.

"I know honey! It's just I want you to see me."

"We can just watch you on my grandma's TV, she's important to my family at this point, she broke her back a few weeks ago and I want to hear where she's going at this point, Harry!"

"Fine, go see her I don't care," Harry said but in a defeated way.

"Harry," I said.

"No, go see her. Her health is way more important than my boxing match." He said.

I can't believe he said this to me. He knows that she's having trouble walking, and my family and I are going to help her.

FRIDAY

I'm at my grandma's nursing home and we put Harry's boxing tournament on and he's losing. I can tell my family looks disappointed, I mean I am too.

"Y/N, go see Harry." My grandma says.

"What?" I look at her.

"Go see Harry, Y/D/N told me about the argument you two had, and I want to see him. I'll be fine Y/N."

"Are you sure gram, I mean I wanted to come see you," I said.

"Go see Harry." She said holding my hand.

I look at my family and they agree with what she's saying, I kiss her on the cheek, and she hugs me, I go up to my family and they hug me back, I'm going to see Harry.

I get to the stadium and the security brought me to my seat. I see Harry looking beaten up. He notices me and I see him looking relived. He gets back on his feet and started to do the last round, he starts fighting, he getting a lot better. I get kinda scared because I'm scared he might lose.

He wins! I jump up and down and scream his name. He looks at me and smiles, he's so happy already. He runs up to the section I'm sitting at and when got to me, he picks me up and kisses me all over my face, I giggle.

"I'm so glad you came." Harry says hugging me.

"My grandma wanted me to be here. My family and I were watching the fight and they noticed that you were having trouble so my grandma wanted me to come here." I confess to Harry looking at him.

He smiles, "Your family loves me."

"I know they do, they talk about you all the time." I smile.

He chuckles, we kiss again and I hear screaming, I look up to see us on the Jumbotron, I hide my face in his chest and I can feel him laughing and then we hear, 'Kiss your girl Harry!' in the stands, everyone laughs, Harry and I kiss again but we kissed for a long time. I totally forgot that people were cheering around us by how long kissed.

After the fight, Harry and I went backstage to celebrate his win with his crew.

"Another win, another victory!" John yells with a can of beer in his hand.

Everyone in the room cheers, Harry kisses my temple and I wrap my arms around him. I hope my family is happy about this win.

Harry and I go somewhere private to talk things out about some of our fights.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for how I acted a few nights ago, I was stressed about the whole boxing match and I know your grandma's health is important right now." He says while holding my hands.

"It's okay H, I know you were stressed, it's just I feel bad for yelling at you a week ago about your fans and everything, I know about your fans and I've met them with you, most of them are kids." I crest his cheek.

"It's okay baby." He makes me get closer to him.

He looks around and whispers to me, "Wanna do something?"

"Like what?" I whisper back.

He crests my thigh and I grab his hand away from me.

"Harry!" I whisper yell. "Someone can come in any second."

"Then let's give them a show." He wraps my legs around his waist.

He takes us to the nearest wall and begins to make out with me, I try to not moan and scream very loud. I feel him giving me hickeys all over my neck, which makes me moan and giggle at the same time. I tug on his hair and I can feel him smirking on my neck and then he begins to kiss me again.

Harry sets me down so we can take our clothes off and I see some scratches on his shoulders.

“What’s this from?” I point to the scratches.

“You.” He smirks.

I get confused on what’s he’s talking about.

“Remember last Thursday night?” He asks.

I think about it, now I remember that night, he was a little too rough for me.

“Now you remember?” He whispers into my ear.

“You were too rough baby.” I tug his hair a little.

“You want me to be rough again?” He says making us do nose to nose.

I look up and down at him for a bit until I grab his face to make out with him. He grabs me to take us to the floor and I continue to kiss him passionately until he stops kissing me, I whimper, he starts to kiss my body, I gasp and fluff his hair and then he starts to kiss my inner thigh and looks at me with lust. I heavily breathe while looking down at him, and then he begins to eat me out. I lay down and arch my back and I scream but I try to keep myself quiet but Harry keeps going. He puts my right leg on his shoulder but continues to eat me out. I climax and I feel his tongue on my cunt.

“You’ve been a good girl Y/N/N.” He says looking up at me.

“Only for you.” I heavy breathe.

He smirks again and sets my leg on the floor and crawls up back to me and kisses me again. I moan into our kiss. I can feel him wanting to fuck me so I stop kissing him and allow him to enter my cunt and he fucks me. We go in a normal pace but then he goes in a slow pace by him giving me hickeys all over my chest. I giggle and tug on his hair.

“You want me to ride you honey?” I ask him while he’s sucks my left nipple.

“Are you sure Y/N/N? I just fucked you and ate you out, I don’t know if you want to ride me tonight.” He says looking down at me.

I moan, “We’ve done it before H, remember last time?” I get a strand of his hair away from his face.

He thinks about it and then he takes himself out of me which made me gasp and he lays down so I can sit on him.

I giggle and I position myself so I ride his cock. He groans by my pace and helps me out with guiding my movement. I gasp and look a bit at the ceiling and look down him, looking like a mess.

“Hey Har- OH MY GOD!” Mark yells and shields his eyes.

Harry and I try to cover ourselves. “Get out of here Mark!” Harry yells.

Mark closes the door so quickly.

“I’m sorry Y/N/N for him to come in to see us like this.” Harry looks terrified.

“It’s okay baby, besides, I rather do this at home, where no one can open the door and sees us looking this.” I whisper in his ear covering my body with his t-shirt.

He gives me a little smile, I giggle and kiss him again.

“You wanna take shower and probably go back to where the crew is at?” I ask Harry.

“Wanna do round two?” He smirks again.

“Harry!” I playfully slap his bicep.

“Oh come on, I’ll help you with your body and you can help me with mine.” He sits up and says to me.

I stand up but I almost fall down and Harry catches me and carries me bridal style to the shower and god only knows what’s gonna happen in the next 20 minutes.

[rapunzelbro]

Velvette x reader, with another disigner! Reader, you have a rival like relationship with her and reader gets on her nerves but one day they meet a show and things happen from there that make Velvette want to seek out reader for comfort pls.

Fashion designer! reader comforting Velvette

I so gotcha! Sorry this took so long. Wanted to make it perfect. Enjoy!

Masterlist Taglist Velvette

You and Velvette have always been rivals, ever since you made your appearance as a fashion designer

There was something about your designs that contrasted Velvette’s entirely. Instead of the bold colors her outfits have that match the aesthetic of hell, you’re is on the more softer side of colors. Pastels, hot pinks, yellows all that

And believe me, you weren’t sure at first it would do well considering how hellish hell is, but holy shit it did amazing.

It pissed Velvette off that people have no taste these days, scrolling through your social media platform, disgust being evident

You tried to get along with her but girl was NOT having it and would refuse to get along because you were her competition

Like maybe you saw her at your first show with other fashion designers and she snapped at you for thinking you’re the shit, when you genuinely didn’t.

You couldn’t give one less fuck about her behavior, and it fueled you to work harder, to become better

And it soared you even closer to besting her, and you were getting even more on her nerves

It would be a while until you two see each other face to face, it was at another fashion show with very select fashion agencies invited.

You and Velvette were both well aware of the other agency invited, they were mean, brutal and determined to surpass you and Velvette.

You two begrudgingly decided to keep close eyes together on them, which meant you two having to put up with each other.

The threats being made to both of you two tonight were going to an extremely dangerous length

You had security high on your models for the show, and Velvette did as well, but no one knew what was going to happen to Velvette

You were making sure your models were getting their makeup up to your standards, when you would hear Velvette screaming at one of her models

“Are you fucking serious! Which one of those fuckers did that? No one drink the water someone drugged it! Those absolute pricks!”

Velvette was pissed, grabbing one of the security guards screaming at them for not doing their job

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her lose control like now. She was frantically making calls and you just kept quiet trying to calm your models, as you check to make sure their water bottles haven’t been tampered with

One of her models were down, she was on last but she couldn’t find anyone in time to fill that position

She locked herself in her dressing room . The first agency went on while she was freaking out internally, while you had to watch your models but you were concerned for her.

Your phone buzzed, and when you checked it you didn’t expect Velvette to message you. Considering how she only texted you regarding the threat of the new company arising

“Get your ass in here”

“Please”

You never heard her say please so you instantly yelled at your security to not fuck anything up and quickly made your way there, knocking as she opened the door, her usually perfect hair slightly frizzed, her eyes slightly puffed from crying, most likely out of frustration

“Those assholes sabotaged me, drugging one of my models! Mine! Who do they think they are!”

She would walk away from the door in a panic as you walk in after her

“I.. I don’t know what to do Y/N, I usually don’t have this problem but of course this had to happen”

You’ve never seen her so vulnerable to you, or anyone, it genuinely shocked you

“Velvette, you can use one of my models if you need to”

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds! I need someone new!”

“Then have me go on”

The way she turned her head so quick it must’ve given her whiplash

“You being fucking serious?”

“You need a new model, I’m new. That bitch won’t back down and if they see you like this? Shit they’ll think you’re weak. What’s more intimidating hm? Seeing you having a breakdown, or seeing their two competitors working together for once, consider this being a collaboration between us. They’ll cry of embarrassment”

You walked up to her with a smirk. She returned the smirk almost instantly

“You’re not so useless now are you? Then so be it, tonight we collaborate”

After your models walked it was Velvette’s turn. All of her original models came out, all the designs had last minute changes, pastels and lighter colors suddenly being adjusted to fit with the dark style as well that lingered in the design.

You came out last with Velvette, wearing one of her designs and she wore yours. You both had shit eating grins on your face as Velvette made the official announcement of your collaboration

And when you saw your competitors face? You two had to physically stop yourselves from laughing your ass off

Dude was so panicked at that information they instantly left.

Oh how it was to be the most powerful of the fashion industry

You and Velvettte might not of been close

But oh how revenge can bring two stubborn people together.

[avatar-anna]

Nothing Left to Lose

saw this photo on pinterest and got inspired! happy weekend, y'all!

Masterlist

*.*

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Don't—Don't ask me that. Please."

"Why?"

Harry sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face, wincing when his fingertips came back with blood on them. "Because we promised not to lie to each other, and I don't want to give you an answer you won't like."

"Damn it, Harry!"

Y/n looked like she wanted to hit something, probably him, but he was too far out of reach. Angry tears lined her eyes as she took an anxious drag from the cigarette that dangled between her fingers, but Harry knew better than to go to her. She was pissed, and he needed to let her seethe properly before comforting her.

"I'm sorry—"

"You're not because you keep doing it!" A tear slipped from Y/n's eye, but she quickly wiped it away. "I told you I didn't want any part of this life. You said—You said you wouldn't do this anymore."

"This isn't something you just send your two weeks notice into, Y/n. I can't just say, 'I quit.'"

"Don't try to explain that bullshit to me, Harry!"

That was a wrong choice of words. Sighing, Harry took a chance and stepped closer to Y/n. "I'm trying, Y/n, really. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I am. I just don't...I don't know how to safely get out of this."

"Then let's run away," Y/n said, grabbing onto his hands desperately, neither of them minding the smoke curling between them. Harry's knuckles were split and bruised, dried blood caked around them, though most of it wasn't his, yet she held onto them anyway. Y/n had never been one to shy away from a little blood. "We can go somewhere, anywhere. The world is such a big place Harry. His network doesn't stretch that far. We can—We can forget all of this."

"It's not that easy—"

"He's using you!" she cried. "He's using you to get to me, you have to know that, Harry."

Harry held her face in his hands as he rested his forehead against hers. He knew nothing about the life they shared was easy. From the moment he stumbled into the bar she worked at, battered and bruised and reeking of trouble, he knew. Y/n had known right away that he was one of her father's men, even if the easily recognizable tattoo that curled around his shoulder and up his neck was covered thanks to the hoodie he wore. What she didn't know was that he'd been purposely tasked with keeping an eye on her, a direct order from her father. That little secret came out months after they met, after Harry realized he was falling for Y/n and that he couldn't hide it anymore.

This wasn't what he expected out of life. He'd fallen into the wrong crowd long before he ever should've, and it spiraled into a life he knew he shouldn't have been proud of. But the money was good and if he kept his head down he didn't get into any serious trouble. There were a couple nights where guilt kept him from sleeping, or when he lied awake in a safehouse because someone else fucked up and he had to disappear for a few days. Maybe his line of work wasn't something to be proud of, but he grew up believing he wouldn't amount to anything, and this life, the one he built for himself, was his and his alone.

All that changed when he met Y/n, though.

He'd never met her prior to the job her father had tasked him with. His boss' daughter was elusive at best, but it was well-known that they were estranged. But Y/n's father still considered her his greatest pride and joy, hence sending Harry to keep an eye on her to make sure she was safe. He'd taken the job, mostly because he couldn't really say no to his boss, but also because he thought it would be easy enough, stress free.

Falling in love was never the objective, yet here he was, and it killed him to see his love cry.

"I know," Harry said quietly, maybe even sounding a little defeated.

"I want a life with you, H," Y/n pleaded, resting her hands over his. "I want a long life with you without my father's shadow hanging over our heads. This...this isn't living. We're hiding."

"I know," he said again. "I know, you're right."

"I love you," Y/n said. "So much, H. That's why it freaks me out when you leave and come back like this. I...I hate what he does. He ruins people, Harry."

Part of him believed it was impossible to get out from under her father's thumb, and part of him was scared of leaving everything he'd ever known behind to start over somewhere new. But for Y/n, he was willing to try. A future with her was worth running into unknown territory.

Harry tried for a smile and kissed Y/n's forehead. "If it makes you feel better, I had a terrible night."

"Mm...Maybe a little," she said, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Is persuading you to kiss it all away off the table?"

Y/n's smile softened into something more somber. "Promise me we'll run away."

Harry looked into Y/n's eyes, saw all the hurt that the cuts and bruises and blood he came home covered in affected her. He wasn't just looking out for himself anymore, Y/n was a part of his life he wasn't willing to give up. She was a non-negotiable, and making her happy had to be his top priority.

"We'll run away," he promised. "Wherever you wanna go, baby. Just you and me."

"Really?" she asked, as if she actually thought Harry wouldn't agree.

"Name a time and place, and we'll go," he said. "I love you, Y/n. I'm in this with you. All of that bullshit means nothing when I have you."

Y/n exhaled, and Harry could practically see a weight lift from her shoulders. Leaning in, she kissed him once, pulling back and giggling a little as she rubbed a thumb gently over the cut on his lip. Pressing one kiss to his cheek, she took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom they shared.

"Let's see about getting those cuts cleaned up."

"I've actually got one that needs really special attention—"

"Shut up, Styles!"

Harry just grinned as he took the cigarette from Y/n's offering hand and put it in his mouth, happy to hear the laughter in Y/n's voice. There was light for them at this long, winding tunnel. He believed in it, he wanted it enough to believe in it. Harry had never tried to leave this life behind because it was all he'd ever known, there was no reason to try to build a life outside of the crimes he committed. Y/n should've felt that way too, but she didn't. She wanted more for herself, and for him now too. Harry was willing to give up everything, to risk everything, to make sure he was happy, that he was able to give her the life that she wanted.

And if slipping between the fingers of the most powerful man in the city was what she wanted, then he'd find a way to make it happen.

[n3ptoonz]

Could you do some mk Headcanons (anyone you feel motivated to write about) where their meet the dark version of reader from Dark!Shang Tsung’s timeline, maybe their conflicted because their version of the reader died

randomly selected mk1 character hcs: how kitana, kenshi, mileena, scorpion, li mei, and shang tsung react to the version of their s/o's dark clone post death

this is creative asf ty anon 🫢

warnings: canon typical violence and angst that's about it (gonna hit y'all with the punk tactics)

the dialogue portions are meant to be read in the context of before you and character fight

enjoy!

Kitana

When you appeared in her line of vision, she was immediately heartbroken. She couldn't believe her late partner came back like this after so many years

You died sacrificing yourself for her to live in this timeline. you worked for the royal family for all these years, just to have to take an arrow to the chest due to an assassination attempt

Your skin now had cracks all over it and your eyes glowed red, standing by dark shang tsung's side with a mocking smirk behind your mask. Kitana could barely recognize you and you were only intrigued that she wasn't dead in this timeline

Kitana looked at you with tears in her eyes. The same person who took an arrow so she could live on. She had already taken out clones that looked like her, hell even ones that looked like her own sister and mother. Second pain to that was seeing you approach her with mischievous and evil intent.

"You...gave your life for me...and now you live on as an evil pawn for a man like Shang Tsung?"

"I did? What an idiot. In my timeline, I'm the one who assassinated you, and I still have no remorse."

Kenshi Takahashi

Post losing his eyesight, he could only ever think about how he lost you. How he wasn't quick enough in getting you out of being involved with the Yakuza. How he was one step behind

You died a brutal death simply because you were his partner, and they couldn't risk leaving you alive to tell the story of them torturing you for information, so they took care of it themselves to send a message. And boy, did it send a message

So now, in dark Shang Tsung's timeline, you are resentful of him and want your revenge. However, it was very conflicting for Kenshi: Did he take this version of you out now because he knows you don't actually feel like this? Or...die by your clone's hands to be reunited with the love of his life?

Kenshi stood before you with Sento in hand, but frozen in place. The sound of your voice, the complete change in your demeanor, and even down to how you used to walk (he always knew when you were coming because of the way your footsteps sounded), he was utterly devastated. He only had himself to blame for this moment in time.

"I'm...I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. It's all my fault."

"No need to apologize, past love, I took you out in my timeline, now I've come to finish the job in yours."

Mileena

You died in Mileena's arms. How? Well, you were a little too late in grabbing the serum that calms her down and she went crazy on the closest person to her, literally

Upon barely clinging onto dear life you were able to inject her, but you had lost too much blood. So by the time she came to you were gone. She hadn't cried and wailed this much since her father

Now, as she pointed her Sai at your neck, she didn't know what to do. Even if she turned right now, she couldn't handle killing you in the same exact way two times in a row. Even if evil you was trying to kill her

Mileena breathed heavily as she could feel herself turning, desperately trying to stop herself from mauling you to death. But the way you taunted her made half of her want to turn even quicker, knowing full well this is the dark version of you spewing nonsense to piss her off.

"Come on, Empress, turn. Rip my face off like you did before."

"I don't want to...but if my hand is forced, so be it!"

Scorpion

You guessed it. The classic partner and son loss. You fought tirelessly to defend your home and the Shirai Ryu, but it just wasn't enough. Kuai was also just one step too late

Once he got to you, there lied your lifeless body clutching your son in your arms with a sword through your back. If he just hadn't gone on that mission that day when you said you were worried of being attacked...

Now, the dark version of you relished in the pain and sorrow in his eyes. In your timeline, he was the one that died and you trained your son to be a killing machine

Scorpion's head hung low upon hearing what you've done in your timeline. All this time he promised if he could just see you again, he would apologize profusely and even give his own life for you to come back. But looking at you now, seeing you again with an evil smile and empty eyes you've never worn before made him want to take it all back.

"Want to know something funny? You were the one that died in front of me, and I got our son to do it."

"Training Satoshi to be a killing machine is a sin that not even hellfire can take care of."

Li Mei

You died while on a mission in Li Mei's place to find and gather information that would be of use to the royal house and their next moves on taking down a clan that was after it

Li Mei hasn't properly recovered since. Even to the point where she'll go on solo missions just to avoid anybody else getting hurt. She took extra shifts and extended her personal training time just to keep her mind, but at the end of the day she still crumbled

Now the evil version of you isn't even in the Sun Do. In fact, you actively try to take them down every chance you get just to get to the Li Mei in your timeline--which worked

Li Mei took a fighting stance as soon as you showed up. A piece of her heart broke at the thought of intentionally having to hurt you, but she knew you were long gone now with no shot of saving grace. You dangled your weapon in front of her and showed not one sign of fear.

"You were an esteemed member of the Sun Do, and now you are proudly a disgrace."

"I'll do it again one thousand times over and you can't stop me."

Shang Tsung

Surprisingly, he didn't betray you or kill you himself. You captured the sorcerer's heart, and that was the problem. His followers didn't like how much attention you got, so they formed an organization and took you out when they followed you on a mission

Since then he was on a rampage. He wreaked as much havoc as he could, convinced it was some outside source that held something against him. He only got stronger with anger and deep rooted sadness he couldn't process

Now you blamed him for letting you die when he could've prevented it. Hell, sometimes you felt like it was his idea and his way of getting rid of you as if you were a hindrance to his plans

Shang Tsung couldn't believe his eyes. You, who started walking towards him after you linked arms with his own dark clone. Every emotion he had ever felt bubbled to the surface the second he saw your face. Hurt, anger, sorrow, but mostly confusion. However, knowing the kind of man Shang Tsung was, he wouldn't think twice to rid of your evil clone for good.

"Whoever took you from me will pay, but I will kill you myself before I die by your tainted hands."

"Aw, how the evil sorcerer calls the dark soul 'tainted'"

-

thank you for reading! man this was SOMETHING but it was fun i don't typically write angst