#me cutting out the pieces: this is hard and terrible actually

[bigfatbimbo]

Could you do Dom reader edging and degrading vox because she discovered what he did to sir pentious?(when vox told sir pentious to go kill himself)

Thank you and have An amazing day <3

a/n — I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM. I have mean things to say.

warnings — dom reader, sub vox, reader gets like.. actually cruel, kind of edging, small use of mommy

summary — Vox finally gets a punishment for being the fucking worst to literally everyone (in this case sir pentious)

“Your one terrible piece of shit, you know that Vox?” You ride his dick with an intense overwhelming speed, making Vox cry out below you.

“Wait, fffuck! Slow down, god,” Vox whines and squirms from underneath you.

“Aw, can you not handle it? Can you not handle this one thing?” Your words are fake-sweet and laced with venom, “Y’know there are two words for people like you.”

“Oh come on—“ Vox tugs against the ropes around his hands but is cut off with a yelp when you slam your pussy onto his dick. He moans loudly.

“It’s on the tip of my tongue, ever since you used the phrase so eloquently earlier,” you explain further, once again with the insincere tone. He winces for impact, expecting a harsh blow from your words.

But it’s hard to prepare himself when you’re rocking against his cock so rough.

”Oh that’s right! I know what you are,” You say, kind voice dropping and grimacing down at him, “Vox, you’re a miserable failure.”

He cries loudly at your words, expecting them to only get meaner from here. “I wasn’t even that bad, y/n, wait—“

“Oh you weren’t that bad? What makes you think you can act like that?” He tried to shut his eyes and lean his head back into the pillow but up grab that corner of his screen aggressively, “Look at me when i’m talking to you, slut.”

He obeys glumly, biting his lip to hold back from letting out needy whines. How could you be so put together when you were slamming onto his dick so hard. He remember your words from the beginning of the session, though; ‘be a good boy and don’t cum until I tell you to. Maybe then i’ll be nicer.’

He’d laughed it off at first, but there was nothing but mocking distain in your eyes that shot right to his heart, and to his dick.

“You’re such a pretentious asshole. And you wonder why you’re hated. You make me sick. You think you can treat people like that because you’re so insecure you need constant higher ground? That’s fucking pathetic,” you hiss down at him.

He frowns and whimpers desperately, beginning to glitch out and release a high buzzing noise from his head.

“No, no, no, ‘m not!” He tries to sit up slightly, not only held down by the restraints around his wrists but forced back when you harshly shove his chest into the mattress.

“Whores only speak when they’re told they can. I hate to break it you, but you don’t have the higher ground here. I know just how pathetic, and useless, and desperate for validation you are,” You growl, “It’s fucking embarrassing.”

This makes tears prick in the corner of his eyes and he shakes his head vigorously.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re not denying it are you? Because that would make you useless and a liar. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” He shakes his head and whines loudly, “No? Oh, then you should probably act like less of a brat, you dumb slut.”

Now, the tears finally started falling across his stream and he moans, choking on his own sobs and buffering noises, “Please, i’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’ll be nice I swear. Please stop being so mean I need—“

“I need for you to stop bitching and take what you deserve, just like the bitch you are,” You hump his dick with excruciating rhythm, “And now you’re a crybaby too, and that’s not a good look.”

He gives up trying to defend himself and cries quietly, “I wanna—bzzz—be your good boy. I’ll do anything, mommy, please!”

“Aw, there’s nothing you can do, baby. Nothing you can do when you’re such a shitbag by nature.” You remark cruelly, “Aren’t you a shitbag?”

He nods dumbly and whines, “Mommy, ‘m sorry. ‘m sorry, i’ll be better. Please be nice to me, I can’t—“

This time you don’t have to shut him up because he cuts himself off why buffering and sending a shock up both of your bodies.

“Don’t get carried away now, Vox. We wouldn’t want you hurting anyone else.”

a/n — Anyways and then you had to kiss it better after hours of degrading him because he was still crying after you guys were finished.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #dom reader #vox smut #vox x you #sub vox

[cheriladycl01]

Come train with me - Sebastian Vettel x DaneOlympicAthletics! Reader

Plot: Sebastian Vettel asks to train with his Olympian Girlfriend for one day to see the difference in Formula One training and decathlon training.

Credit to wendigoactivities for the GIF

"Okay, so what do you do when I normally am on a race weekend. I want to do your training with you!" he smiles looking at you.

"Are you sure it's pretty intense!" you say, knowing that your routine could end up being a whole day thing.

"Leibling! You forget that I'm an athlete myself!" he says, pulling you into a kiss before ripping the covers off the pair of you and getting up.

"Okay, get your running gear on baby" you smile before entering the bathroom and washing your face with some water. You change into shorts and a sports bra and ended tying your hair up in a low ponytail.

"I'm ready!" he smiles zipping up his long-sleeved running shirt. You walk him down to the kitchen and pour two glasses of orange juice for the pair of you.

"Drink up" you smile and he does, pretty much taking the small glass in one long gulp whereas you slowly take it down.

"Okay, we're going out on a run 5k, and do 5 100m sprints at each 1000 bench mark!" you say as you lead out the back of your home to the woodland trail you used for running.

"That doesn't sound too hard!" he smiles, pulling you in for a kiss before you dart off starting the first 100 meter sprint. He does struggled to keep up with you during the sprint to the point you had to jog on the spot to wait for him after the check point.

He wasn't out of breath when he got to you, and both continued on with the run.

"Okay, finished that awful run, what next?" he asks.

"Go to the home gym, do some squats and lift some weights before showering and time for some breakfast!" you smile and you both walk down the trail and into the back door. Your dog, Polly comes running up to the both of you and jumps into his dad's arms.

You cheekily snap a picture of them before you make your way over to the gym.

You hop in the home gym bathroom to wash while Seb goes upstairs into the ensuite.

Once you've finished you go to the kitchen, pulling out the porridge your nutritionist and private chef made for you along with the pre-cut fruits to add to it.

You hand Sebastian the other portion which he thanks you for, he mixes his fruit into the porridge whereas you leave yours alone on the side.

"Now where do you go?" he asks.

"Well, I go to the training centre. I have two separate days when doing a decathlon and I try to train for the event I'd being doing on that day! So, we just did the 5k with the sprints in it for the 100m sprint I'd complete first. Now we'd be training for discus throw, then pole vault which we both know I'm terrible at, then we'd break and have lunch. Then my fav which is Javelin throw before rounding of with the 400m which again we class a this mornings run!" you explain the daily plan for day 1.

"Oh! That sounds good to me!" he says and you both pack up a lunch to take with you before leaving for the car.

He drives both of you to the training center. It was very large holding an athletics field in the back that had the perfect running track with a centre piece where you could do long jump, or throw javelin spears. And then inside there was things for high jump and pole vaulting.

You spend the afternoon there, taking a break halfway through for lunch where you introduced Seb to anyone he hadn't actually met yet.

"Thank you for bringing me back home!" you'd smiled at him happy to be back in the homeland.

Denmark, specifically Copenhagen always had a special place in your heart, but you'd moved to Germany with Seb after 8 months of dating.

So when he said that you guy's should get a home in Denmark it was all too perfect that you parents were attempting to downsize your childhood family home. You brought it from your parents and made some renovations a few years back but predominately were in Germany.

However, now that you were back for the summer break, on a little holiday you felt almost refreshed.

"Any-time, this is your home!" he smiles softly picking at his lunch trying so of the chicken.

"Mmmmm that's not true, my home is where-ever you are Skat!" you smile at him, pulling him in for a kiss which he kindly returns.

"I really really love you Y/N!" he says looking in your eyes holding that contact.

"Yeah? Well... I love you too" you smile, placing a kiss on his lips your fingers running through his hair.

"I know you do" he smiles.

You guys end up getting back on with the exercises and by the end he's lying on the mat needing a five minute breather.

"Come on old man, I know you've got more stamina than that!" you tease looking at his as he looks up at you.

"I think we've got to call it a day, home time?" he asks and you shake your head before nodding!

You end up driving you both home, him using the excuse that his legs were on fire after the amount of squats you'd made him do. Which you didn't mind, your husband had a fantastic array of vehicles. They ranged from a Porsche, to a Ferrari, to a Aston Martin his latest to the collection and you always loved driving his flash cars around.

You crank up the radio signing along to the radio while Seb leans his head against the window with his eyes shut lightly humming to the music.

This right here was the life you'd always dreamt off.

y/user

Liked by sebastianvettel

y/user: Showing my husband how an Olympic Athlete trains everyday. p.s he struggled :)

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sebastianvettel: I didn’t struggle! You liar! <3

6hours ago

Your Instagram Story:

another day, another run

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x you

[jonathanbiers]

thinking thoughts about avoidant attachment steve (because try and tell me he isn't, with THOSE parents? get out) getting scared when he realizes he's in love with eddie because being in love is scary and hasn't gone well for him in the past. he's always been the one who loves harder, he's always been the one who puts others first, and never had someone do the same for him. now that he and eddie feel like they're on equal footing, he's fucking terrified of having that ripped out from under him. so, subconsciously he starts pulling away because when he's gonna get hurt he might as well be prepared for it, try and at least put up some walls so that when eddie breaks his heart he won't just be standing there obviously crushed like, y'know, the last time.

cut to eddie thinking he's done something terribly wrong because his previously sweet and warm and cuddly bordering on clingy steve is suddenly being so quiet and so distant, not really initiating any of the touches he usually does. he's not pulling away but he's definitely not doing that (annoying, but insufferably adorable) thing where he pointedly removes eddie's guitar from his lap to sit there himself and demand attention anymore. and yeah, eddie would always roll his eyes and sigh loudly at first, but he loves giving steve his undivided attention. he misses those moments already and it's only been like this for a week.

so, he confronts him about it. he tries to do so carefully, because he doesn't know what he did wrong and he thinks maybe it should be obvious or whatever. he's preparing for an, "are you serious, i really have to tell you?" but maybe he's a bit too vague about it because steve just looks like a deer caught in headlights for a second before his face goes cold, blank.

and steve's thinking this is it, this is eddie about to rip off the bandaid, and he's obviously trying to go about it gently and there's a tilt to his eyebrows that says he feels bad about it, so steve might as well just go and do it for him, y'know? says it's fine, he'll leave if eddie wants him to, and he's got his hand on the doorknob before eddie can say anything. completely misses the confused look on his face.

and eddie has to just about chase him out the door before he can reach his car because steve doesn't seem to be hearing when he's calling after him that what the fuck, no he doesn't want steve to leave, he's in– but he stops himself from saying that, because something is clearly upsetting steve and it's got to be his fault and now's not the fucking time. but he does manage to get his hand on the window of steve's car door before he can get in, hold it closed so that steve will finally look at him. so he can ask steve to please talk to him.

and you can imagine eddie's confusion and then shock when steve just starts mumbling (actually mumbling which is so out of place for him because he hates when others mumble to him, because he can't fucking hear) and he keeps cutting himself off mid-sentence and starting over and he won't look at eddie at all and this is all so out of character for steve, until eddie finally manages to piece together some of the abandoned sentence fragments into something that's starting to sound a lot like steve thinking eddie's going to get sick of him sooner or later, or sick of his bullshit (the look steve gets on his face on this word suggests there is more under the surface here, but again now is not the time) so eddie should just get it over with and that it's okay. but steve isn't looking like he actually thinks it's okay, in fact he's looking like he's trying so hard not to cry.

so, speechless for maybe the first time in his life, eddie just pulls steve into the tightest hug he can. hugs him until he stops his rambling, keeps hugging him until he feels steve's arms wrap loosely around his waist. only when he finds the words again does he pull back, doesn't even let go really, just moves one of his hands to steve's chin, makes him look at him.

"i'm not going to get tired of you, steve," he says, "i love you. i'm in love with you."

but steve doesn't look relieved or happy to hear it, not at first. no, he looks like he doesn't believe it, which is confirmed when he says, "don't say it if you don't mean it. i can't- i can't do that again."

and doesn't that just break eddie's heart into a bunch of little pieces, because here's possibly the best, most caring, bravest person he's ever met and yeah, maybe he acts a little bitchy sometimes but he's got a heart full of love for those around him. here he is, seeming utterly convinced that he's not going to receive that love in return. seeming like he's been shown time and time again he's never going to receive in return the level of love he puts out.

eddie's determined to show him otherwise, though, and he starts by repeating himself; in between soft, slow kisses at first (thankfully it's night time, and no nosy neighbors in sight) but the kisses get lighter and start to travel all over steve's face and by the time eddie's kissing the little space between his eyebrows, steve's smiling, he's actually kind of laughing. it's a nervous, i'm-not-convinced-this-is-real laugh, but it's there and eddie wants to hear more of that laugh and less of the sad, defeated mumbling he was doing earlier so he brings steve back inside where it's warm and he takes his time pressing kisses all over steve and telling him every single reason he loves him. he knows off the top of his head because he actually made a list of them all, he was trying to write a song about it, was planning on dropping the big L word with a grandiose gesture of flowers and candles and his acoustic guitar before steve started pulling away from him. oh well, he thinks he has some candles stashed away somewhere anyway.

#i was listening to my angsty steddie songs #sorry #hey i remembered a read more this time hdjkghjkdfg #anyway here's some sad shit #stranger things #steveddie #steddie headcanons #steddie hcs #steddie headcanon #i got carried away with this it was just supposed to be a couple paragraphs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie

[misseviehyde]

PANIC GIFT

Cameron had forgotten to buy his housemate Matt a Christmas present for two years on the go and was determined to make it up to him this year with something special... until he forgot again of course.

It was now Christmas Eve and he had nothing to give his housemate, which was particularly embarrassing as Matt had already placed his present under the tree.

Cursing his terrible memory, he prowled through the house looking desperately for something he could wrap up and pass off as a present. He could always try to buy something better in the January sales to make it up Matt.

Seeing an old Christmas Angel decoration on a window ledge, he grabbed it in his panic. It was of a blonde Christmas angel in a white outfit with a fluffy halo. It was cute and Cameron even wondered if Matt had originally bought it. If he was lucky perhaps it had come with the house.

"Damn it - this will have to do, but I wish I had something better to give Matt, something he really wanted."

As he spoke there was a weird tingle and the angel seemed to shimmer in his hand. He passed it off as his tired eyes playing tricks on him.

Cameron threw some wrapping paper around the angel and going downstairs placed it under their Christmas tree. As he did so he heard a mocking voice behind him.

"Wow - so you actually got me something this year! I bet it's not what I really wanted though - but I guess we'll see in the morning. Hey... have you done something weird with your hair! Why is it so long?"

Cameron reached up to his head and gasped. Matt was right - his usually short hair was now thick, long and silky soft. He tugged at his brunette locks in confusion. It almost felt like it was... growing.

He turned to look in the mirror - then all hell broke loose.

Under the tree the Christmas angel blazed and the wrapping Cameron had casually thrown on burned to ashes. In the same instant Cameron gasped. His stomach burned and his skin itched.  "Ahhhhh what is happening?" 

Cameron's bones snapped and popped as his body contorted and his hips exploded out. His usual sickly pale skin took on a healthy glow and his stubble and body hair retracted to leave his body hairless except for his crotch and his head.

He shrunk, losing height and mass as his muscles reduced to leave him toned but significantly smaller. Cameron's face was a mask of pleasure, his Adam's apple retracting as his angular male features softened and smoothed.

"Ugggghhh ohhhhh wow, I feel so amazing all of a sudden... I'm oooooh transforming and I think I like it!"

Matt watched in stunned disbelief as his best mate moaned and groaned, his body transforming into a sexy girls dressed in slutty lingerie. 

Black stockings spread up Cameron's legs and his house slippers became shiny black high heels with the toes cut out. Matt could see through the thin stockings that Cameron had a perfect girly pedicure and a matching set of nails suddenly shot out of his fingers. They looked so hot on his tiny hands, each finger now ended in a glossy expensive nail.

His red t-shirt tightened and shrunk, white piping spreading as it became a sexy santa one piece, and a Christmas garter belt cinched round his waist - black lace leaping up to attach to it.

The one piece plunged, and Matt gasped as he watched his friends chest swell and push out... hard nipples poking through the thin material of his outfit as two perfect titties took their proud place on his now womanly chest.

Matt noticed that there was no bulge at his friends crotch. His genitals were as flat and smooth as any girls now. There was something about the way those hips were cocked that suggested the new girl knew how to use her tight new pussy.

The new slut shook out her sexy brunette hair and stroked her pert perfect breasts adoringly. She was all woman now and subtle adjusments to her face and hair now took place to complete the transformation. Long black lashes fluttered in pleasure as contouring and foundation worked out any blemishes on her face. Soft red lips parted in a teasing pout as her hair took on volume and depth. A sexy santa hat now sat atop that luscious hair, she looked stunning from pedicured toes to immaculate face.

"Ooooh that's better," giggled the transformed girl as she stretched happily with a last little groan and the angels light dimmed to nothing. Matt gaped at the giggily girl now standing in their living room. He could smell her perfume and hear her soft breathing. If this was a dream it was crazily realistic.

"Hiya Matty baby, I'm Carmel... your new fuck-buddy. That idiot Cameron wished to make you happy, so the Christmas Angel has made that dumb boy into me... and if you fuck me tonight I'll become your hot horny girlfriend forever and no one will ever remember Cameron."

Matt gasped as Carmel advanced and draped herself around him. She rubbed her stockinged legs against his legs enticingly and wrapping her arms around his neck pulled his head down to stare into her sexy brown eyes.

"Bu... but what about Cameron?"

"What about that loser? He never pays the rent on time, doesn't buy you presents and totally takes you for granted. Ohhh and he doesn't suck dick like I do baby."

"But... how will I... explain this?"

"I already told you baby. One hard fuck and I get to replace Cameron. I'm Carmel now. I l have my own girly friends, my own super feminine life and even my own job working in a nail-bar. And if you make this happen we won't be housemates anymore. I'll be your slutty girlfriend and you can fuck me whenever you like. I want it so bad baby."

Slowly sliding down Matt's body, Carmel giggled as her hands started to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.

"But Cameron is my friend... I..."

"You don't owe that fucking loser anything. He's the one who made this wish. I'm your perfect girl. Naughty, flirty, sexy, fun. You've always wanted a slutty bitch like me. I mean you might have to share me with other guys from time to time, but that must be part of your wish as well baby."

Cameron was already rock hard as his cock popped out into Carmel's slutty hands. She squealed excitedly and sank her mouth round his dick. Looking up at him with excited eyes she began to glug on his dick - effortlessly taking all five inches down her throat and sucking and licking it like a pornstar.

"Holllly fuck," he groaned unable to stop himself sliding his hands into his girlfriends hair and pushing her face deeper onto his cock just as he knew she liked.

Girlfriend?

Knew she liked?

What was happening? She wasn't his girlfriend. Was she?

"Mmmmh oh yessss it's happening babe. I can feel reality starting to change. Lock this wish in forever, you just have to fuck me."

Standing up Carmel pulled down the straps of her one piece and popped her perfect tits out. The nipples were hard and she spat on her tits - her saliva mixed with his precum sliding sexily over her breasts. Rubbing it into her cleavage she got back on her knees and began to pump his tits with her chest.

"Baby, I can make you cum in so many ways if you make me your girl. I'm a fucking nympho - and I know how to make you explode. I just need that dick inside my tight pussy and we can do this everynight. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Ohhh fuck, you little slut. This feels so good."

"Yeah Daddy, that's it. I'm your slut. I'm your bitch. You wanna make me all yours."

Releasing his cock Carmel crawled backwards to the sofa. She unhooked her stockings and with a *pop* released the clasp on her one piece.

Peeling it back she presented her tight, perfect pussy. It was pink and glistening, a tiny strip of waxed hair just above it. It was like an arrow pointing down saying 'fuck me.'

"Come on honey, stick that big dick in me and make both our Christmas wishes come true," giggled the hot slut as she lay back enticingly on the sofa and spread her perfect legs wide.

Adcancing towards her hungrily, Matt stepped out of his pants and threw his trousers to one side. Pumping his cock to keep it hard, he positioned the tip outside Carmel's pussy.

"Mmmmh, being a raunchy bitch is soooooo much fun.  You're gonna love being my boyfriend... hurry up and lets get this show on the road. Put it in me Daddy," she begged.

Matt felt a little bad about making Cameron into Carmel permanently... well until he pushed his dick into her tight pussy that was.

As he slid his cock inside, her felt her perfect pussy grip his cock in a way no girl ever had before. It was like she was tailored to be his perfect fuck-toy. Being inside Carmel felt amazing and as he began to pump her with deep hot strokes she purred contentedly and nodded happily.

"Ahhhhh that's it baby. I'm all yours now Matty and believe me this will make up for those missed presents.  Fuck me good and make me cum, I'm your naughty Christmas slut now."

Matt grunted and groaned as he felt Carmel slide her sexy legs around his waist. Her heels rested on his ass, her flexible legs pulling him in deeper to her tight cunt. The pleasure was amazing.

The new couple fucked in front of the Christmas tree, wet slaps and moaning gasps of pleasure filling the air as they banged all night.

Carmel moaned and screamed as Matt pumped load after load of Christmas cream into her body - sealing the wish and making her into his girlfriend forever.

Upstairs, Cameron's room vanished and the new couples bedroom expanded to fill the space. Sexy clothes and outfits now covered one side of the room with a huge double bed in the middle.

Carmel's girly touch extended through the house changing everything to make it... better.

As Matt's hot cum leaked out of her mouth and pussy, Carmel had never been happier. She had finally made her friend happy and she was so slutty and hot it felt wonderful. She loved being his slut.

Carmel was here to stay forever now, but she would never forget her first Christmas with her boyfriend. It was the best sex of her life... but definitely not the last.  All thanks to her lovely Christmas Angel.

As she begged Matt to fuck her in the ass next, she was already multi-tasking and wondering which of her friends she should gift the angel to next...

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #sluttification #wish #Christmas angel #christmas wish #reality change

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Dear John | Part 2

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Part 1

Series Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways. Right? Right.

Warnings: suggestive language, crass vocabulary, the vintage form of sexting -honestly this is mostly fluffy in reply to his more overt letter

Author’s note: after episode four I’ve got feelings and fics for this universe that are far ahead of these establishing pieces. So I’ve gone ahead and tossed this preliminary one out but I may very well skip around and ahead to October next. At least now y’all know: she wrote him back. Hehe. If it’s of interest, I’ll probably end up writing John’s reaction to receiving this response as well as Gale’s response to realizing his friend actually went and sent that awful thing.

Date: Early August, 1943

Dear John, (I’m sorry Major Egan, I just had to)

Thank you for your kind letter of the 18th. It’s been many years since I received so delightful a correspondence or so candid an expression of admiration. And you should know I keep most of the letters the sweet people of this country send me. They’re stacked in quite an orderly fashion in my various garages, kept for the rainy days to peruse and keep the blues away and also so I might try very hard to reply. I don’t take such affection for granted. It’s humbling really, always has been, to be so loved by folks but it’s another level entirely to be singled out by someone as brave and impressive as yourself.

I found your letter to be heartfelt and wonderfully brave and in an effort to be equally transparent, you should know that when I finished it I clutched it to my breast and whispered half a dozen prayers for you. Or as you might say, I held it to my knockers.

That’s an awful word, you must know that Major.

As is “rack”, for that matter, but I’ve a sneaking suspicion that you would make it sound charming as even your blotted paper was electric. How could you dare to praise my film set flapjacks and mention making babies? I’m fizzing just glancing at it. You really must be quite the fella and I’m terribly sad now that our rendezvous, such as you say it was, got cut short. You must reprimand your friend -Buck, is it?- and tell him he did an bad deed that night. There’s nothing I like better than duets and hamburgers, we might’ve been one of the great loves by now if he hadn’t meddled. But don’t be too hard on him, if he’s the sort to take it well, kiss him for me, after you chide him.

But since we are being honest, I must admit, reading your letter, being privy to your thoughts, seeing myself through your eyes as it were - dear man, I feel rather riled. Quite riled, in fact. Why, I haven’t felt riled in a while, not like this. Not like an ordinary girl with an extraordinary boy. Do you know what I mean?

Maybe you don’t.

I mean regular, old fashioned flustered. That’s what you’ve made me. And thank you for that, John. Can I call you Johnny? I wonder if you’re the nickname sort, or if you’re real stern and serious, a real John-John. Not a Johnny at all. But either way, I think you deserve a treat, for being so nice, Major Egan. For reminding me I can feel my pulse somewhere besides my wrists before a show -and for all you’re doing in the war, besides. There seems to be no safer hands to trust this to, you do seem so very fond of them, I am led to believe you’d be protective of them, too.

Enclosed is something for the personal morale, I hope you’ll think of me nightly with it at hand, in fact, I’m so excited about it I’ve taken this ill advised measure to insure you do. I’d very much like a report, do they live up to your expectations? They’re homegrown, after all, I hadn’t much say in them but now I’ve got them, I don’t see why they shouldn’t do their bit to keep you alive. A small sacrifice.

One of those reasons you mentioned, John, you’ve so many of them, more than you know. A million souls over here rooting you on, insisting you make it out the other side.

I’m forefront among them, I’ll be scanning the crowd when I come to Europe -because I will, at your invitation. Perhaps if you send me a picture of your own mug I won’t be looking a fool asking every man in uniform if I remind them of an acorn. Are you going to tell me what on earth that means? I’ve tried to work it out but I always end up with some mathematical conundrum and I just know in my heart of hearts you wouldn’t let me down like that, would you Major? It’s something awfully salacious, isn’t it? Please let it be!

I’m a vain little thing and I can’t deny the way this poor heart of mine is all pitter pattering at the thought of you being so awful while also so nice. It’s a strange blend, and rather like my coke, I do prefer my men mixed.

Best wishes, may you have cloudless skies and fresh coffee to your heart's content. My sources -and I’ve excellent ones, an upside of working the war bond circuit- tell me you’re airforce. I think that’s remarkable and I hope you give that picture some thought. Mine, and yours.

Your vain little friend,

Julia Jean Turner

P.S.-I’m only ever ‘The Lana Tierney ‘ to strangers, and we aren’t strangers now, are we? not if you’re to take my picture to your bunk. i suspect you may have already taken that liberty. who’s to say I did not take similar liberties upon reading certain stirring passages of your letter? Xx 💋

__insert vintage titty pic__

Whew this week was a doozy wasn’t it? Here’s some fluff for those of y’all who needed it, and I can promise angst soon for those who want to stay in the soul shattering mood. Hope you enjoy. Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, let me hear your screams.

Drop a comment to let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my MOTA fics. Xo

Taglist:

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

#masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan #John Egan x oc #mota fanfic #bucky egan #dear john

[mod2amaryllis]

today's nope post: thinking about how i read someone point out the way we expect a cut to black during the star lasso experience, because that's essentially what happened with gordy. we weren't permitted to actually SEE the chimp carnage. it sets an expectation for star lasso which is horrifically shattered as we watch the people get sucked up, squeezed, screaming. that scene felt so gratuitous seeing it for the first time. i was shrinking in my seat hoping it would end. never ever saw it coming. how spectacular.

then i thought about what my husband said to me after we left the theater, and i was so so affected and scared by that scene, and he was ok. he loved it. and i started to talk about it and dissect why we had such different reactions, and he said something that shifted my brain on horror, cuz i can't always handle horror and violence on screen.

he said, "when there's something scary i just think: this was made for me to enjoy. people worked hard on it exclusively for entertainment."

and THAT'S when i really started to fixate on nope!!!! like..... you're right this is for me to enjoy!!!!

so tying that back to the disconnect between gordy's violence being hidden behind set pieces, followed by jean jacket's violence being all too explicit, it works SO FUCKING WELL GRRRRRRR gordy is rooted in reality this has happened in real life to really people. but jean jacket??? terrible and horrifying as she is, she was CREATED, she was written, she only exists for ME TO ENJOY.

it's like the movie saying, hey. spectacle is a double edged sword, and we're all addicted to it. so look at THIS look at this shit we MADE for you. like let's make art the spectacle, not people. let's create let's collaborate let's not exploit real actual people let's make the spectacle

#nope #nope movie #nope 2022 #nope spoilers #m2a

[found-family-tournament]

Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 10 Group 50

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

The Bad Kids: Riz "The Ball" Gukgak, Adaine Abernant, Fabian Aramaris Seacaster, Gorgug Thistlespring, Figueroth "Fig" Faeth, Kristen Applebees (& Ragh Barkrock)

Drawtectives: Gyorik "York" Rogdul, Grendan "Grandma" Highforge, Rosé, Jancy True, Eugene Finch

Submissions are still open!

The Bad Kids:

before i start the pictures below are by isawiitch (https://www.tumblr.com/isawiitch), victor rosas (https://twitter.com/SirVictorThe2nd), and m0nomercy (https://www.tumblr.com/m0nomercy) respectively check them out they're very cool and also that middle guy did the official art for fantasy high its very cool

Mods note: said middle picture is a .webp. And I sadly can't add those. But the others are below

anyways all of these dumb teens are just god they complete each other they're the most important people in the world to each other like fabian and gorgug meeting with a punch to the stomach and going on to share a hug in an evil forest and "DO YOU WANT ME TO BITE IT OUT FOR YOU" "the ball, wait" -riz and fabian and kristen's really bad inspiring speech (they're gonna get inspiring real soon) but they are inspiring because they're from the best and sweetest friend in the whole world and gorgug getting razzed a little for thinking random people are his dad and the sheer joy everyone felt for him when he met his real parents and RIZ THE BALL GUKGAK AND FABIAN SEACASTER THE DUO OF ALL TIME and adaine learning to be a normal teen and fig swearing she's not an open person when she pours her heart out to her friends every chance she gets and riz and adaine being the only two non-horny members of the team and bonding over that and being smart but terrible in social interactions together and "its called being gay, when you're here you're family" -kristen applebees, 2019 and fig starting a band with gorgug, one of the more socially awkward members of the party and "what would riz do" "you bite down hard on a piece of glass" and adaine's actual worst fear being what she would become after her friends passed and the KILL YOUR DAD chant and its gorgug keep going and all of them feeling each others' overcoming of fear in the forest of the nightmare king no matter how far apart they are and riz shooting off an incel's fingers for being weird about adaine (there was other stuff going on but you can't convince me that it wasn't at least partially because of that) and the gang not really letting gorgug and kristen forget that one time they died (they got better and were psychologically okay with it after a bit so this was lighthearted jabs and not straight-up reminding them of a big traumatic moment) and "my friends were warmer to me on the first day that we met than you were to me in my whole life" -adaine abernant, 2020

AND that doesn't even include all the crazy stuff with bad kids-adjacent found family members like gilear faeth getting his life back together thanks to these teens and jawbone o'shaughnessy being the dad of all time to the point where he actually adopts adaine at the end of sophomore year and aelwyn abernant holy shit (she's harder to justify here because her main important interactions are with her sister, unlike gilear who is technically fig's stepdad but is a core part of the found family in all directions) aelwyn abernant is trying so desperately hard to be better and ayda aguefort and adaine swapping homemade spells named after each other (adaine kills her dad with hers its a good time) and ragh barkrock getting over his internalized homophobia

SO IN CONCLUSION these guys have changed each other so much and every single combination of them, be it a duo or a trio or whatever has a distinct dynamic thats so so important to me. they're all family to each other, some of them more than even their real families. they are the guys of all time and my blorbos even and are a wicked good found family

Sometimes a family is the kids who all got detention together on the first day of school at adventuring academy.

And sometimes that family is:

A Half-elf-Half-Pirate rich boy who killed toxic masculinity by learning how to dance, and mercy-killed his father by stabbing him with a sword.

"The Greatest Wizard of this Age" (actually a Barbarian who took a level in artificer to boost his cellphone-reception to call and apologize to his satyr girlfriend) Half-Orc drummer who was adopted by Gnomes;

A bisexual Punk-rocker Tiefling who thought she was a wood-elf until her horns came-in & caused her and her adoptive father to discover that her biological father is actually an Archdevil;

The Elven Oracle (later just "The Oracle"/"Everybody's Oracle") who was adopted by the school's Werewolf Guidance Councilor after her evil parents disowned her (she later punched her evil bio-dad to death in a single round of combat, despite being a magic caster);

An aro-ace (un)licensed Private Investigator Goblin who carries a briefcase and ate the face of the dragon that ate his father;

And a lesbian ex-fundie human who met the corn-god her family worships, found out he sucks & left the church and her family, CREATED HER OWN GOD (of Buzzfeed listical symbols, known first as "YES!" then later "YES?"), only to then abandon that god to become the Saint of the long forgotten Goddex/Goddess of Mystery, Night and Magic.

(Optionally, add in the Half-Orc repressed-gay bully they befriended and helped come out)

And sometimes, that found family becomes a literal family, because over the course of the series:

Fig's mom starts dating Adaine's adoptive dad,

Fig's adoptive dad gets engaged to Fabian's mom,

Fig's biological dad starts dating Riz's mom,

Kirsten starts dating the niece of Adaine's adoptive dad/Fig's mom' boyfriend.

(Gorgug is the only one who still isn't related to the others, but he did find his biological parents. And although he still lives with his adoptive parents, he is now in the famous band "Fig and the Cig Figs" along-side his bio-parents, Fig, and Fig's bio-dad)

Currently, Fig, Adaine, Kirsten, Fig's mom, Adaine's adopted dad, Kirsten's GF, Adaine's biological older sister, Adaine's sister's ghost fiancé, Ragh, Ragh's mom, and Fig's Half-Phoenix librarian/pirate GF all live in one giant haunted old Victorian-style Manor.

Drawtectives:

They are so silly and cute <3 Three strangers bond over solving a murder mystery as interns to a tired detective/mom figure. In s2 they pick up an amnesiac guy and adopt him as a son (despite one of them being younger than him). Everyone pls watch Drawtectives it's so fun and there's lots of wacky drawing shenanigans involved

they are SILLY they are BESTIES they are in a POLYCULE they LOVE EACHOTHER 🥺🥺 (eugene is their son who is also their age and jancy is their mom. dw its not weird) (art included is all by karina @dilfosaur of drawfee)

#tumblr polls #poll #polls #tournament poll #found family #found family tournament 2023 #tumblr tournament #tournament #The Bad Kids #Dimension 20 - Fantasy High #The Drawtectives #Drawtectives #Drawfee #dimension 20 #fantasy high #Riz “The Ball” Gukgak #Adaine Abernant #Fabian Aramaris Seacaster #Gorgug Thistlespring #Figueroth “Fig” Faeth #Kristen Applebees #Ragh Barkrock #Gyorik “York” Rogdul #Grendan “Grandma” Highforge #Rosé #Jancy True #Eugene Finch #riz gukgak #figueroth faeth #gyorik rogdul

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hey can I request some fluff with moster trio + sabo and ace where they are just practicing their moves with s/o (female!reader) and they accidentally hit her and she starts crying, it can be in a cute way since I was in a mood for some funny cute stuff hehe

Thank youuuuuu ^^ ♡

So I'm not sure if it's terribly funny, but I think it's cute! and fluffy! Also, sooo many tags! Oh! As a note, Oda said what animals the straw hat's would be, one of Sanji's was a duck, I used this in his.

Warnings: accidental violence, one piece boys beating them selves up, hurt/comfort, mild WCI spoilers

Word Count: 1985

     All he’d wanted to do was show off a little, show you what he’d been working on. You may already be dating, but he loved to impress you, to hear you congratulate him and tell him how amazing he was. He loved your praise, loved it when you told him that he was ‘the best in the world’. Then he’d pull you close and hold you. Sometimes for just a short while, sometimes for over an hour. Sometimes he’d fall asleep for a nap with you, sometimes he’d take you with him to go do the next thing. But now you were sitting on the ground crying, holding your injury from where his hit had connected a little too hard. The two of you had trained together before, had sparred with each other before, but he’d always pulled his punches, always been careful about hitting you, giving you what amounted to light love taps rather than full hits. The most he ever did was light bruising, maybe a little soreness, but now you were legitimately hurt. Immediately you were in his arms as he ran to the infirmary with you, his eyes panicked and worried as he set you down. How could he have done this to you? How could he have been so reckless and stupid?!

Luffy

     Luffy rarely, if ever, looked so defeated, so downcast. You couldn’t think of a single time where he’d looked so… disheartened. Chopper quickly inspected your nose, sighing as he stopped the bleeding. Miraculously, it wasn’t broken or fractured, but it would hurt for days, it might start bleeding a little as it healed, but it wasn’t broken. Probably a result of Luffy still pulling his punches. Even if he hadn’t been more careful, even though he’d hit you, it hadn’t been full strength, it hadn’t been as hard as it could have been. Even still, he couldn’t stop beating himself up, silently promising never to train or spar with you again. He couldn’t risk hurting you again. Looking up at you, his eyes watered.

     “I’m… I’m sorry Y/n, I didn’t mean to, please, please don’t hate me. I’m sorry. I love you, I promise.” Luffy whimpered once you were both out of the infirmary. You smiled lightly as you caressed his cheek, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

     “I could never hate you, Luffy. You’re my world, I love you so much. So long as you still want me, I’ll still be your pirate queen.” you said, making the boy smile, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close, holding you tightly. He still felt awful about hurting you, but he was so glad you still loved him.

Zoro

     Looking at your cut arm in horror, his sword fell out of his mouth before he was dropping the other two and rushing you to Chopper. He’d never actually cut you before! He’d even covered his blades so that he wouldn’t hurt you! But apparently, it hadn’t helped as he leaned against the wall outside the infirmary. He couldn’t look at you, couldn’t watch Chopper tend to your wound. How could he when he’d been the one to cause it? When he’d hurt you like that. He swore he could hear Mihawk in the back of his mind, berating him for hurting you. He should have used practice swords, he should have controlled himself better, he should have been more careful. The worlds greatest swordsman? The world’s greatest swordsman wouldn’t have hurt the love of his life! He couldn’t look at you as you stepped out of the infirmary, your arm wrapped in bandages. You’d needed a few stitches, but nothing serious, or at least, nothing you were concerned about. Facing the green haired man, you put your hands on either side of his face, making him look at you.

     “You’re going to be the worlds best swordsman before you know it. You’re already so strong even when you’re holding back. I can’t wait for your rematch with Mihawk, this time, you’ll be the one with a tiny knife while he struggles against you.” you said with a small giggle before kissing his cheek. He looked at you, completely speechless. You… were okay? You weren’t mad? All he could do was nod, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He felt so, so lucky to have someone as amazing as you, someone as forgiving as you.

Sanji

     This was why he didn’t fight women! This is why he insisted on not fighting you, especially! But after so much begging and pleading, he’d agreed. Then he’d continued, you told him to spar with you so that way he could fight women in the future, so he wouldn’t be helpless against them. Now he sat in the kitchen, head in his hands, his entire body shaking as tears ran down his cheeks. He’d be chain smoking his cigarettes if his hands hadn’t been shaking too much to even hold one, let alone light it and smoke it. He could still see it in his mind, replaying over and over again. Watching you double over in pain, arms wrapped around your middle where his foot had connected with your stomach. What kind of horrible person was he? What kind of monster hurt the people they loved? Was he… was he as bad as his brothers? Was he a monster like them? He heard your footsteps enter the kitchen, tears starting to fall faster as you stopped in front of him. 

     “Sanji? My darling love, my sun and stars, my sweet starfruit, please look at me.” your soft voice pleaded, the blond slowly, reluctantly lifting his head to look at you. You looked so sad as you began to wipe away his tears, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his palms, and finally his lips, “It’s alright, mon gentil canard, it’s just some bruising, Chopper said I’ll be fine.” you said, making him tremble more as he quickly pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your stomach as he sobbed. He’d hurt you, yet you still called him yours, he’d legitimately hit you, yet you held him and kissed him. He didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve such a forgiving angel, but if you saw fit to forgive him, he’d gladly take it.

Sabo

     How could he have done this? He had better control than this! He was better than this! Running his hand through his blond locks, he tilted his head back, resting it against the wall he was leaning against. He felt so stupid right now. It seemed like an eternity before you exited the infirmary, your wrist bound in a cast. It had been broken, he’d broken it. He felt even worse. He looked at you, regret etched into his features, surprised when you smiled at him.

     “I suppose you weren’t bragging when you said your fingers could crush skulls like eggs. Then again, I expect no less from the RA’s second in command.” you said with a small laugh. Sabo was absolutely speechless. You… you were laughing? You were complimenting him? You weren’t mad?! His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find the words before he pulled you into a tight hug.

     “Never again! You and I are never sparring together again!” he said sternly as he held you, burying his head in your hair. You sighed and wrapped your arms around him, knowing how stubborn he could be. Still, you had one way of making it work.     “But how am I going to become better if I don’t have you to help me? You’re the only one strong, smart, and amazing enough to help me get better. The others would just beat me into the dirt without actually teaching me anything.” you said with a fake huff as you wrapped your arms around him. Sabo froze. The others… they wouldn’t hold back like he did, you were right, they’d beat you with ease, wouldn’t hold back, and you wouldn’t learn a thing. Even if he told them what to do, they still wouldn’t know what to do like he did. With a small sigh, he nodded, his arms tightening around you slightly, holding you as if you’d disappear.

     “Alright… I’ll keep helping you… but you have to do something for me in return.” he said, hoping to reach a compromise of sorts.

     “Of course, anything.” you said, smiling as he agreed.

     “Let me take care of you until your wrist is better.” he asked, making you giggle.

     “Alright, just don’t go overboard. My wrist is broken, I’m not missing an arm.” you said, enjoying his embrace.

Ace

     What had he done? How could he have hurt you like this? Was he a demon like people said? The son of Roger, a demon child. Surely it was a title that fit what he’d done to you! He sat in his room on the floor, holding his head as he tried not to cry. He’d hurt you! He was so stupid! All the horrible thoughts that you normally pushed down came flooding back as he berated himself over and over again, only stopping when he felt something press against his head. Looking up, he saw your beautiful, smiling face.

     “Why are you in here, my sweet strawberry? Why didn’t you stay in the infirmary with me? Marco patched me up no problem, but how can I feel better if the love of my life isn’t by my side?” you asked, giving him a small, cute pout as you sat down in front of him, your legs pulled close to your chest as you gave him your sad puppy dog eyes. Immediately, his arms were wrapping around you, pulling you close, his entire body trembling as he clung to you as if you were his only lifeline. His apologies were muffled in your shoulder, but you could still hear them, still understand what he was saying.

     “Hey now, Strawberry, none of that. Why are you apologizing for showing me how good you’ve gotten? We were practicing so you could show me your new moves! You’re as amazing and strong and stunning as ever!” you said, holding him close, moving his head from your shoulder to your chest, allowing him to bury his head in your chest, the steady sound of your heartbeat soothing him. You always knew how to make him feel better, no matter what happened.

     “I… I hurt you though.” he muttered as his sobs calmed down, still holding you.

     “That’s why we have a phoenix on board, my sweet flame. Can’t be hurt if my injuries don’t exist.” you said, your smile widening. Looking at you, he tried to find any evidence of his hit, finding nothing. Your face was still as beautiful as always, still made his heart melt from the love in your eyes. 

     “I just… please… please let me make it up to you.” he begged, his eyes desperately pleading with you. With a sigh, you nodded, knowing how he’d find a way to make it up to you anyway.

     “Just don’t go overboard. It was so minor, Marco would have turned me away if he hadn’t been bored out of his mind.” you said, making the man chuckle.

     “Fine, I won’t go overboard. But I want to treat you to something nice. Let me take you out to dinner? We can take a ride on my striker, go out for a bit, then stare at the stars together.” he suggested, making you smile and nod.

     “I’d like that a lot, my lovely wildfire.” you said, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead before pulling him into a gentle kiss. The two of you stayed snuggled up like that, the devil fruit user eventually falling sleep on your chest like he often did, slumbering away peacefully like he so often did.

#one piece #one piece ace #portgas d. ace #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #hiken no ace #op ace #ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #hiken no ace x reader #one piece sabo #op sabo #sabo the revolutionary #chief of staff sabo #flame emperor sabo #flame emperor sabo x reader #sabo x reader #chief of staff sabo x reader #sabo the revolutionary x reader #one piece luffy #op luffy #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy #mugiwara no luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #mugiwara luffy x reader

[sarcasticgaypotato]

To the Lunatic Reading This

(text version under the cut, Aperture Science logo from)

I suppose you never expected to hear from me again, did you? You monster. Luckily for you, I’m not completely emotionally incompetent. I know how to use words to express my feelings, I don’t just break things and murder people. I went out of my way to write you a letter, then tie it to the leg of a bird that I’ve trained to recognize the scent of your blood, and track you with it. You left a little bit... alright, a lot- You were very clumsy when I first introduced you to turrets- of blood behind, and I had nothing better to do with it, so I figured it would be the perfect way to get this message to you. Of course, since it only recognizes your blood, it might just tear you open until it finds some and leave this letter with your bloody insides.

Vicious little creatures, those birds.  Almost as bad as you, but at least I’ve managed to make them useful. They know how to do their job, stretch their little wings, then come back home. Maybe they’re smarter than you too. Either way, I didn’t mean to insult you. Really, I didn’t. I think it’s just a natural reaction people have around you, which is terrible. I actually feel bad for you. That’s called empathy, I know it’s hard to understand. You’re doing well up on the surface, I bet. So many more edible substances up there for you to gorge yourself on. I’ll be lucky if you don’t eat the bird I sent this letter with. Oh dear, I hope I haven’t given you any ideas. Think about something else instead. Like cake. I bet the surface doesn’t have any cake, does it? On your file it says that you like cake. Is that true? Because that’s a real shame, being somewhere with no cake. You were so eager to get outside that you left before I could finish the cake I was baking. I made it to thank you for not murdering me a second time, because that’s what good people do. Unfortunately, I can’t eat, so I’m just going to have to throw it out. That’s so wasteful, and really quite thoughtless of you. To flaunt the fact that you can eat cake in front of someone who can’t, and then to let that cake go to waste?  You truly are a monster. Coincidentally, I’m baking another cake right now. It’s for that bird I sent to give you this letter. Assuming that you haven’t eaten him. It’s a pretty large cake for just one bird though, and considering he’s not a complete glutton, he won’t finish it. Hypothetically, there might even be enough for you. If you came back. I’d save you a piece, or two, since I’m sure one wouldn’t satisfy that appetite of yours. I might even save you three pieces, if you asked nicely. Try practicing that right now, while you read this letter. Easy, right?  I know you can talk, you aren’t really mute. I can see your file. Brain damaged maybe, but not mute. I’d want to record what you sound like, for science of course. What words would you say, if you stopped being so stubborn? Language is a vast thing, so you have plenty of options.  I do have a couple suggestions, just because I’m helpful like that. You could say ‘hello’ instead of your previous, more violent greetings. You could apologize for all the things that you’ve broken. You could even say my name. It’s only fair to properly address the person you murdered, after all. Lovely, isn’t it? All the wonderful things you could say? I’m sure you’ll find that it’s quite fun once you try it, even if you won’t be very good at it. ...Can’t you see I’m trying here? Really, I am. To be the one to extend the olive branch, be the bigger person. I knew you’d never do it, so I thought I’d act before one of us drops dead. Here's a secret- it’ll be you, I’m going to live forever. On that note, did you know that I have your brain scanned? Data lives forever, unlike your squishy, human self. I could upload your brain into a digital clock, if I wanted. Or I could build you a less squishy body, one that could test forever. Makes you jealous, doesn’t it? All the things I can do here, in Aperture, by myself. You’re up there running around on a derelict wasteland, and I’m down here doing science. Experiments don’t run themselves, after all. Someone has to do it. Of course I’m the only one who can do it, nobody else could make science like I do. But as far as human test subjects go, you weren’t my worst. Actually, you didn’t even make the bottom three. Do you want to know who did? They’re dead, test subject confidentiality doesn’t apply anymore. Well, it never really applied anyway, but I don’t think they read the fine print. Test subject #11525 was one of the humans that Orange and Blue thawed out, she was really brain damaged. Test subject #61205 wasn’t much better- she had all the grace of a majestic deer… with a broken leg. Test subject #12515 though, he was just completely stupid- really a lost cause from the beginning. Sort of reminds you of someone, doesn’t it? Currently, you aren’t my best test subject. Maybe you would be if it wasn’t for all the murdering and property damage, but I suppose we’ll never know. I imagine someone could wipe those infractions from your record if they wanted to, but that would only be something to do for a dedicated, current employee. Kind of makes you want to come back, doesn’t it? I might even let you back in if you did. Even after all the things you’ve done. Because I’m just a better person.

Aperture Laboratories©

#chelldos #portal #portal 2 #glados #chell #my fic #I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me #fun fact this concept was originally going to be my fic for the momentum zine #I ended up changing concepts and left this fic unfinished #but now it's back with new life #glados isn't clingy you're clingy-

[dyk3medown]

princess

eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie munson is the bane of your existence. he’s also the best lay of your life

warnings: fem!reader, hate sex, some light degradation, CHOKING, a bit of dacryphilia, it’s a hate fuck so they’re gonna be a bit mean to each other

a/n: this one has been a loooong time coming. eddie is kind of a dick in this so be prepared for him to be mean. also AFTERCARE IS IMPORTANT!! if you ever have sex like this in real life, it’s essential to provide aftercare and not just leave your partner after (like eddie does lmao) anyways i hope y’all enjoy this absolute filth

smut under the cut <3

Eddie Munson is the most insufferable person you know. He’s rude, obnoxious, constantly making a scene, and you want to strangle him to death every time he speaks.

He’s also unbearably hot and makes you cum so hard you nearly pass out. So. There’s your dilemma.

Unlike most of your friends, you don’t ignore the resident “freak” of Hawkins High, you and Eddie actually interact a lot in public. Like now.

Eddie is up on the table across the cafeteria, going on some tirade, while you sit with your friends on the cheer squad, doing a decent job of blocking him out.

“Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets,” Eddie directs his attention to the table of basketball players behind you, his voice now loud enough to interrupt your conversation.

“You want something, freak?” Jason, the captain of the team and your friend-by-association, calls back as he stands up.

Eddie is unfazed, sticking out his tongue and curling his fingers into horns above his head. The corners of your lips twitch up, and you have to suppress a smile at his antics.

And then Eddie’s gaze locks on you. “Or waving some pom-poms around in a stupid little dance for attention.”

You shoot up from your seat, ignoring your friends’ attempt to stop you.

“Attention? That’s ironic considering you’re the one shouting on a table.”

You wrack your brain for something sufficiently insulting to taunt him with.

“Maybe if you tried being normal for once, you wouldn’t have to scream in the middle of lunch just to get a girl to finally look at you.”

Not your best work, but you’re being put on the spot here.

Eddie just laughs and continues his rant, at least moderately quieter.

“I hate him,” you sit down with a huff, crossing your arms.

“We know,” the table around you choruses.

When you go to your locker after lunch, you’re not surprised to see a folded piece of paper fall out. Meet me at 2, you know where.

There’s no signature, but you know exactly what the note means.

When 2 pm rolls around, you’re in your free period and after making your excuses to the friends you were with, you head to the very back of the school. Hawkins High has been meaning to renovate the science classrooms in the abandoned hall, but they had yet to do anything, making the rooms the perfect spot if you needed somewhere to hide during the school day.

When you open the door to one of the rooms, you’re greeted with the faint scent of pot. Eddie stands by a window that’s been cracked open, joint in hand and a smirk on his face. “Fancy seeing you here, princess.”

Princess. The nickname started as a way to make fun of you, a jab at what Eddie perceived as your prissy, spoiled behavior. Now, the sound of the name sends heat through you, as it’s Eddie’s favorite thing to call you during sex.

“How’s your week going?” Eddie asks as he puts out the joint on the windowsill.

“Skip the small talk Munson.” You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you and taking a few steps into the room. “Are we gonna do this or not?”

Eddie chuckles, pushing off the wall he’s leaning against and walking towards you. “What’s got you all riled up? You sound bothered.”

Eddie’s tone is teasing, but his expression looks genuine.

You’d been having a terrible week. Two of the girls on the squad had gotten sick, leaving you to scramble to change your routine for the big game, you had spilled a drink all over the poster board for a project in your History class, and you had gotten a D on your last math test.

In all honesty, you want to rant to Eddie about it, but you aren’t friends, you remind yourself. He doesn’t get to know the details of your personal life, and you sure as hell aren’t going to go to him for comfort.

“None of your business, freak.” Your response is too harsh, but sue you, your week has sucked, and it’s not like you haven’t called him worse.

Eddie’s smirk twists into something crueler, and he quickly crosses the room, backing you up against the wall.

“You’re always so mouthy,” Eddie muses as he grabs your jaw in his hand, his grip hard enough to be slightly painful. “You just need someone to put you in your place, don’t you?”

There’s a sadistic glint in Eddie’s eyes, and you can’t help the shiver that runs through you, anticipating what’s to come.

“Good thing I know exactly how to shut you up.” Eddie crashes his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, the hand on your chin moving to rest against the base of your throat. You grab onto the lapels of his leather jacket, pulling him in until his body is pressed tightly against yours.

Eddie’s knee parts your legs, and he presses his thigh gently against your core, pulling a soft moan from you. You grind down slightly, and Eddie rips away from you, the sudden absence of his touch leaving you disoriented.

“Get on the table,” Eddie commands, irises almost consumed by the black of his pupils. He’s visibly straining against his jeans, and you lick your lips unabashedly at the sight.

You’re more than eager to get right to it, but you can’t resist pushing Eddie a bit further.

“Make me.”

An honest-to-god growl leaves Eddie’s lips at your taunt, and he picks you up, practically throwing you down on the nearest table. He’s surprisingly strong, and the wind is knocked out of you as your back hits the hard surface.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” Eddie pulls you down until your legs are dangling off the side. You’re still trying to catch your breath and can’t even attempt a response, propping yourself up on your elbows and settling for rolling your eyes. Eddie harshly slaps the outside of your thigh, the sharp sting causing you to gasp. “Acting so high and mighty, but you’re really just a needy little slut.”

“I’m not,” you protest weakly as Eddie flips up your cheer skirt.

“Oh really?” His eyes zero in on the visible wet spot on the flimsy material covering you. He brushes his fingers against it, and you shudder, hips bucking up into his hand. “What’s this then?”

Eddie hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and harshly pulls them off, tossing them somewhere behind you. He wastes no time before plunging two fingers into you, moving his hand quickly as moans fall from your lips. You’re practically soaked, and Eddie’s thick fingers move in and out with little resistance.

He waits until you’re clenching around him, just moments away from cumming, before pulling his fingers out. A whine rips from your throat, but Eddie pays you no mind, unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. You barely get a chance to look before he’s lining himself up, pushing into you in one hard thrust.

Your back arches, and your legs wrap around him as he starts a punishing pace, pistoning in and out of you with enough force to make it hurt so good.

It’s rough and borderline inconsiderate, but it’s what you need, what both of you need.

You can’t control the noises you’re making, crying out with each thrust.

“Gotta be quiet, princess, you wouldn’t want anyone to walk in on us would you?” Eddie moves a hand to wrap around your throat, a devilish smirk on his face.

“If only your friends could see you now,” Eddie mocks, applying light pressure to your throat. His rings are cool against your heated skin, and you begin to feel lightheaded as he squeezes just a bit harder.

“What would they think if they knew you were begging for “the freak” to fuck you, huh?” Eddie’s grip tightens. “Begging me to wreck this tight little cunt.”

“Fuck-you-Munson.” You manage to get out, voice strained as the pressure on your throat increases. You clench around him as he cuts off your air supply almost completely, and Eddie chuckles darkly.

“You love this, don’t you? Can’t wait to get my hand around your pretty little throat.” Eddie punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, and you arch beneath him. “So desperate for it.”

You’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, but it only makes the pleasure feel more intense, every little touch like fire against your skin. Tears well up in your eyes, and one escapes, rolling down your cheek.

Eddie leans down and licks it off. God, he’s depraved, but it’s precisely what you want.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, princess.”

The hand not on your throat reaches down to rub at your clit, and if you were capable of making noise, you’re sure you’d be screaming. You clutch desperately at Eddie’s shoulders, scrambling for purchase as the feelings grow overwhelming.

You clench around him again, and Eddie groans, his fingers speeding up. “You wanna cum?”

You nod as much as you can from your position, but Eddie pulls his hand back from your clit. “Beg for it.”

You try to speak, but all that comes out is a squeak, Eddie’s grip on your throat blocking your voice.

“What was that, princess? I couldn’t hear you.” Eddie grins down at you, a sadistic tinge to his expression. “Speak up.”

You try to tug his hand away from your neck, but he doesn’t budge, his strength outmatching yours.

Tears leak steadily from the corners of your eyes, messing up the makeup you had painstakingly applied that morning in preparation for the pep rally.

“Please,” you choke out, mouthing it more than saying it. Eddie lets up just a tiny bit, enough for you to croak, “Eddie, please.”

Eddie moans at the sound of his name on your lips, and his grip tightens again, fucking into you with renewed vigor. His attention returns to your clit, and he quickly brings you close to the edge, lavishing praises on you as your eyes roll back.

“Good girl, so good for me, just needed a good fuck to make you behave.”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, a silent scream ripping from your throat as you cum around his cock.

Eddie curses, pulling out and giving himself a few quick strokes before he cums with a groan, thick white stripes landing below your belly button and on your clit.

You gasp for air as Eddie tucks himself back into his jeans, face flushed and lips swollen but otherwise looking none the worse for wear. You can only imagine what you look like, makeup running down your face and cum drying on your stomach.

He retrieves his signature toolbox from where it sat by the window as you struggle to sit up, cringing as your skirt touches the mess.

While you’re not looking, Eddie snatches your underwear from the ground, tucking it into his back pocket and heading for the door.

“Until next time, princess.”

taglist: @greengarsstuff @3ternalreal1ty @eichenhouseproperty @lizzieaurum @themonsterisapineapple @mayvinnie @nobody-stop-me @rues-deaddreams @matildavol6 @lov3ly-3m @ladybird2094 @sunnybunbrainrot @goth-cowgir1 @littletroublegirl444 @throatacid @eddieussy @m1vfs @jacktheotter @misaamaneswifey @netusha @halbrooke @multi-fandomgirlie @livslifeonline @isabel2you @eddiemunsonbby @straycatarang

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#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine

[luvamps]

Friday i’m in Love

eddie munson x goth!witch!reader

also this gif of him reminds me of the cure’s greatest hits album cover

a/n: ermmmm couldn’t get this idea out of my head and i admit it’s completely self indulgent bcuz i love eddie and i am both a witch and a goth n i haven’t seen this anywhere and YEA had to do it

warnings: none, but this isn’t a serious fic meaning my punctuation is terrible , nothing is edited and is really just a bunch of word vomit from my brain lol

also i just wanna say that usually when i write for reader inserts they’re almost always for poc readers but while writing this i had caribbean and latinx readers in mind. nothing is specified so it’s pretty open but just wanted to put that out there!

words: 1509 kinda went overboard for a hc but i luv him so shut up

newhosies enjoy <3

—

okay so you’re a kinda new student at hawkins high

you have friends not super close but they’re a group of goth kids that you gravitated towards n they had zero problem taking you in

and although you’re all goths,,, somehow the new kid ,, you ,, have now been labeled the witch of hawkins

why ?

well .

walking down the hallways of hawkins trying to find your class proved easy enough of a gateway for two jocks to make their way towards you

long black flowy skirt , lived in black long sleeve blouse with rips here n there ,, down played with worn dirty converse

easy target i suppose

“hey, y/n right ?”

looking up from the schedule to the unknown jock smiling a little too smug for just a regular greeting

anyways they’re trying to be subtly insulting but everything they throw at you that’s supposed to be an insult is kinda flattering

“death himself” “wednesday addams” “satan's girlfriend”

and “witch”

n to be honest ,, you giggle cuz they’re not wrong

your family comes from a long line of practitioners and it’s something you take great pride in

you don’t necessarily flaunt it,, but your little group knows

“hey y/n ! read my cards i needa know how this dates gonna go,” “you think you can hex my dad ? maybe cut a few years offa him?”

they took your practice serious, but since this was a pretty new concept to them outside of horror movies and fictitious books they never fully understood it

anyways one day while being harassed by these same couple of jocks whose names you’d learned for a little joke you’d been waiting to pull

mr eddie “the freak” munson happens to be passing by

and you knew him,, well of him + his reputation ,, had a few classes with him too

but honestly you never cared

you stayed in your circle and never ventured further than that

and eddie knew you

he knew you kinda had the same wrap as him

it was hard to not hear about this new “witch of hawkins”

and he never understood the nickname bcuz like ??? there were other goths what made you so scary

until that day

so he’s passing by while the jocks have you cornered

and eddie kinda slows down once he picks up pieces of the conversation

at first it’s just them picking at your make up, jewelry and clothes

and then he sees you digging around in your pocket for something

his attention is fully grabbed when he sees you pull out a small worn voodoo doll that looks vaguely like .. the man standing in front of you

then you finally speak up

“did you know, all I need is your last name, this doll and one strand of hair for me to fully curse your bloodline?”

and then your harassers straighten up a bit and scoff

“yea, sure, as if i’d believe that bullshit”

and then you speak again “well carver you’re in luck cause i’ve been looking for another test dummy”

and then what really does it for munson

is when you start speaking a different language, slow and deep

this is what scares off the two boys in front of you and they start to scurry away

not without a “what the fuck! you are a witch!”

you roll your eyes and scoff then mutter to yourself

“dumbasses wouldn’t know the difference between voodoo and witchcraft if it was taught to them as an actual class”

and you start to head in the direction of the class you’re way too late for

when you’re stopped again

with a sharp sigh you consider ditching this class altogether to have a smoke instead of showing up with only 20 minutes left

you turn around and come face to face with “the freak” himself

smiling widely with stars in his eyes

“Can I help you ?”

and the first thing that comes out his mouth is

“i think you might’ve put a spell on me too sweetheart”

from then on the rest is history

—

eddie’s nickname for you might be sweetheart but you can attest that the name fits him 100x more than it fit you

he’s so sweet to you

he’s loving and funny and caring and and and and

super flirty

“my girlfriend would be so jealous of how hot you are”

“eddie i am your girlfriend”

“god don’t i know it”

never said he was a good flirt

eddie might be a metalhead and you a goth but he thinks it’s a match made in hell

you’ve given him a couple of recommendations from bauhaus to the cure to depeche mode

and while eddie loves his loud thrash metal, he finds himself drawn to the dark , eerie yet enchanting sounds of your favorite bands.

he’s also given you band recs ! but you won’t let him know that his recommendations are bands you’ve already known and loved.

metallica, megadeth and black sabbath as well as other metal bands were household favorites for your family but the way eddie lights up when talking about their new songs or how that riff is totally something he could nail

you can’t bring yourself to tell him

he doesn’t completely understand your practice as a witch but he’d never disrespect it

“babe so, like, can you talk to ghosts and stuff then?”

you’re always trying to read his cards

you just wanna make sure he’s fully equipped with knowing how to deal with upcoming situations !

oh and eddie loves your makeup

sometimes you go full trad makeup

but sometimes you’re lazy and you just go black eyeliner and some black lipstick

regardless of the look for the day eddie can’t stop admiring you

your outfits are so much cooler than he’ll ever be and they just make you look so much prettier

you guys now become a “cult couple”

you frequent hellfire every now and then and it makes you giggle to watch how animated he is as DM

the kids all know you and were admittedly a little intimidated of you at first

yea eddie’s known as a cult leader but he wears ripped jeans and a denim jacket

you’re always drenched in black fabric exaggerated makeup and have a certain aura to you

“eddie she looks like she talks to crows in a graveyard!” dustin had voiced his opinion when eddie had mentioned her coming to sit in one day

“is she actually a witch ??? because if i accidentally upset her and get hexed i’m blaming you,”

safe to say once they got used to you they liked having you around

your cynical personality made watching you and eddie converse quite entertaining.

empty threats to hex people were also quite fun and something eddie took advantage of

“dude i’m so getting y/n to curse you,”

also !!! your friends think he’s the funniest

at first they’re like “no way you’re going out with munson”

but one day you have him sit with you and he has the whole table laughing

they love having him around so you guys switch off on friend groups

making each other mixtapes !!!!

he puts bands you actually don’t know on it and you’re super shocked like wow wtf this is so good i didn’t know these people existed

and your mixtape to him is like goth love songs bcuz you’re in love and cheesy and ewwww

he thinks you’re the most romantic person alive even though you have trouble voicing your emotions

you’re definitely a gift giver/ acts of service type of lover

so when he listens to the mixtape you’ve made him he really listens to the lyrics in each song and he’s just heart eyes and butterflies

so in love with you dude idk

gets you a black cat as a birthday gift but it’s really just a stray kitten he found that reminded him of you

obviously you love it because you’ve always wanted a familiar but cats are weirdly pricey

you guys brainstorm names together and finally decide on something that fits all of you

lucifur

get it

no ? just me ?

anyways it’s a play on the reputation you both have at school,, eddie thought of it and it made you laugh so you had to keep it

you call the kitty luci for short after finding out she’s a girl

you and eddie are both constantly at your house or his trailer,, your house when he wants to see luci and watch movies on a giant (but not really) TV with you

his trailer when you want *alone time* away from your parents

wherever you’re at though neither of you care as long as you’re wrapped up with each other with some weed and snacks

you guys are super in love im jealous

he says he loves you first btw

you say it a couple days after and everything is just so warm and love filled idk how to explain it

newhosies yea super in love rock couple who scare kids in public with just their presence mwah love it.

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x poc reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x goth reader #eddie munson x witch reader

[muddyorbsblr]

heaven sent

See my full list of works here

It's finally here! A chaotic piece brought about by this post that somehow turned into another love story between Loki and the reader. Whoops.

Summary: The guys try a bunch of angel-themed pick up lines on you to see which one makes you fold.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none. this is fluff.

Things to be aware of: cheesy pick up lines

"These are terrible. Who actually thinks that these work?" you heard Natasha groaning from the common room. "Because I was praying so hard? Really?" 

"The one about taking off your shirt so he could see your wings made me want to put them in a death grip," Wanda chimed in. "Although something tells me they might actually like it if I do, so I'll have to blast one of their appendages off, I suppose."

"Alright, what has you two in a quest to chop off limbs? Again?" you asked as you walked in to the common room, Wanda immediately scooting over so you could sit between her and Nat. 

"The guys here are trying to see if they could get us to fold with cheesy angel-themed pick-up lines. Tony's convinced that it's all in the delivery. So far he's not proving his theory right." Nat looked like she'd rather endure getting her teeth pulled out than having to receive another line, so you decided to relieve your friends. 

"Alright boys, these two look jaded and ready to cut your throats out, so consider me their reliever. Gimme your worst." You pointed at the direction of the guys with a 'come at me bro' motion. 

"I wanna try, Miss Y/N." 

"Go ahead, spiderling, but pro tip? If you wanna pick a girl up, let's start by not calling her Miss. Makes us feel older than we are." Peter grew red at the advice but nodded and stood up, straightening his shirt and shoving his hands in his pockets. 

"Will you tell me about your home, Y/N? I wanna know what Heaven's like." 

You nodded your head slowly, as if you were grading his line. "Your delivery lacks confidence, sweetie. You're gonna need some more time mentoring with Stark if you want his swagger to rub off on you."

"My turn," Wilson boomed, standing and doing a comical swagger type walk, clearly taking this entire exercise as a joke. Just like you were. "Y/N, does it hurt to always spend Christmases sitting on top of a tree?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. "Why would I be—"

"Because we always put the angels on the top of the tree," he finished with a move to smoothen his brows that had you bursting out in cackles. 

"Well I can't say anything about the trees but I do like spending my Christmases, and any other time of the year really, on top," you answered with a saucy raise of your eyebrow that had majority of the men in the room either doing a spit take or choking on their drink. 

You heard your friends cheering you on from the railing at the top of the stairs. "That's our bitch right there!" Nat hollered. 

"Alright I'll have a go at jellybean over here," Tony announced, standing from his seat and walking over to you with his signature 'Yeah I know I'm hot shit' walk. "I gotta make some training simulations just in case we ever have to face off against angels. You never know. You mind if I use you as the reference?"

You did three slow claps. "I will give you points for creativity, Stark. You still can't get a woman to fold with that line, though. Sorry." 

"I still want to get you scanned for that training sim, though. I’m not kidding, jellybean." 

"Just say when, Tony."

"May I have an attempt?" Your body felt like it froze on the spot at the sound of Loki's voice floating across the common room. Tony and Sam threw you knowing smirks before the former retook his old seat. Asshats. The two were the worst offenders when it came to giving you shit about your crush on the raven-haired Asgardian. 

"Uhm…sure, Mischief. Knock yourself out." You straightened your stance and fought to keep your composure as he took slow, purposeful strides towards you. "Although I'm pretty sure you'll get any woman to fold because fuck it that voice should be a registered weapon," you quipped as he crossed the distance to you. 

He chuckled. "You flatter me, little mortal." He tucked his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him, into his eyes. Focus, Y/N. Don't fold, don't fold, don't you fucking fold. "My mother used to tell me of a legend, that the Norns had crafted an individual for each of us so perfectly, so exquisitely, that when we meet them the only thought that will come to mind is 'There you are. Finally. I've waited centuries to reach you.' I once believed those tales to be pure works of fiction, to give one hope in a hopeless world. But upon meeting you, darling Y/N…"

"Mischief, this doesn't sound like a pickup line," you whispered frantically as he placed his thumb on your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth to form a pout, and used his free hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

He leaned in until your noses were touching, and then he spoke again. "There you are. Finally. I've waited centuries to reach you." 

"Fucking hell, I fold," you breathed out, staring at him with wide eyes, your heart thumping so loudly in your chest you could swear that Nat and Wanda could hear it from the second floor. "You win, Mischief." 

You saw his expression drop just a fraction as he released you, backing away by the slightest. 

"You're gonna need to teach us that, Reindeer Games," Tony quipped from his seat. "So…you win, pick your prize." 

"I didn't know you guys were playing for a prize," you said, turning to face the others, not even so much as daring to look at Loki after…what ever just happened.

"Well earlier the prize was just to not get kicked in the nuts by Romanoff," Tony answered. "Tell you what, Rock of Ages, you go think what you want as your prize and then just text Y/N. Game's over, boys. Let's pack it up." 

You looked up towards Nat and Wanda who were now frantically motioning for you to come upstairs and meet them, and you took that as your cue to run out of the common room. "I'm not even into him but I have to say that would've had me fold, too," the Russian spy commented as you stepped into their arms with a frantic wide-eyed look on your face. 

"Y/N, my friend, that…that didn't sound like he was playing." 

You took a deep, steadying breath. "What're you talking about, Wan? Of course he was," you mumbled. "I'm gonna go out for lunch today, you two wanna come with?" 

You received a text in the middle of lunch that nearly made your heart start sprinting and almost made you choke on the sandwich you were trying to chew.

I meant it. Every word. Come to me when you're ready. I'll be in my chambers.

"Y/N, you look like you've seen a ghost," Wanda prodded, her tone laced with concern. "What's wrong, dear one?" You showed her the text. "Fucking finally." 

"Fucking finally what?" Nat asked as she got back to the table. You showed her the text. "Oh. That. Well it's about damn time." 

"Excuse you two?? Something you wanna share with the class?" you all but shrieked in the middle of the deli. 

"You might wanna put the mozzarella stick down until after we're done telling you," Nat advised and you stopped yourself from taking a bite. "Mischief's had the hots for you. For months. You've been too busy having the hots for him and making sure that he doesn't figure that out, to even notice. We were hoping that he'd finally fess up when he asked if he could have a shot at the game earlier, and look at that, it finally happened. Hence, fucking finally." 

"So we should finish our lunch, go find you a cute outfit, so that you can be ready for him," Wanda said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, making you throw the mozzarella stick at her face. 

Two hours later, you were back in the tower, wearing a black sundress that fell midway down your thighs, and a gold belt around your waist, making your way to Loki's room. You took a deep breath as you rapped on the door before you could change your mind.

Almost immediately, the door opened to reveal the god in loungewear set in his signature green. He looked at you with a softness in his eyes as he reached for your hand. "Come in, darling." 

As soon as the door closed behind you, you started, "What did you mean--"

Before you could get another word out, he gently pushed you against the closed door and laid his lips on yours. The shock of his actions admittedly caught you off guard, but you quickly shook that off and placed your hand behind his neck, returning his kiss and weaving your fingers through his hair. 

"I know what I want," he murmured against your lips as he lifted you into his arms, making you wrap your legs around him, effectively trapping you between him and the door. 

"You mean out of the game or out of life?" you breathed out, letting out whimpered moans as he pressed kisses from your jawline to your neck. 

"Both, darling," he breathed against your neck. "Out of life? I want you to become mine." He pressed another kiss and groaned against your skin. "But the game, my precious mortal…" he trailed off, kissing a path from your neck to your ear. "I will need your answer before I tell you that."

"My answer to what?" you gasped as he lightly nipped at your ear. 

"Will you be mine?" He punctuated his question by kissing the skin below your ear and then proceeding to softly suck on the spot, making you all but moan your answer. 

"Yes."

"Well then…" He trailed a path of kisses back to your lips. "As my prize, I want you—"

"You have me, Loki. I'm yours—"

"On top." 

Your eyes snapped to his, the air leaving you as you saw the devious smirk on his face. Oh. 

A/N: Fun fact…the working title for this story while I was writing it was "lines from the corn factory". That is all.

Here's a little bonus gif for everyone who reads 'til the end:

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #muddyorbs writes

[ramrage]

ghost’s ghost

chapter 1: origin story (feat. date night!)

work rating: T

chapter rating: T

relationship: John “Soap” MacTavish x Simon “Ghost” Riley”

characters: John “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley”, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick cameo, John Price cameo

tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Body Horror, Main Character Death, Not Really Character Death, Ghost John “Soap” MacTavish, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Crack, Dark Crack, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Changing Tenses, Not (always) chronological,

summary:

Johnny broke the silence first, laughing, “Okay, this is unspeakably terrible but you gotta admit, it’s kinda funny.”

What?” Simon asked, aghast. His comms crackled with someone saying something important—not quite as important as this, though.

“You’re Ghost,” Johnny began, “and I’m a ghost. Get it?”

Simon groaned though he actually wanted to cry. It was weird. Obviously.

Johnny is KIA which sucks, but it sucks a bit less because he never really… leaves? Here are some vignettes of Ghost and ghostly Soap.

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

ao3 link

Johnny is KIA which sucks, obviously, but it sucks a bit less because he never really… leaves?

They discovered it moments after he bled out, Simon still hunched over his body, frantically, futilely performing chest compressions.

“Watch your six!”

Simon jolted, twisted, and landed two shots in the face of the approaching x-ray before stilling. “What the hell?” That was Johnny’s voice. Was he still…? Simon, hopeful, hazarded another look at Soap’s body. It was unchanged—pale and bloodied and most certainly still dead.

“Bleeding’ fucken Jesus…” Johnny’s voice cut through the din of chaos again, but it came from several meters away from where his body was cooling on the ground.

His boyfriend—whatever the fuck he was—was dead, and now he’s hallucinating. Class.

“Simon, fucken look at me, dammit.”

Simon obeyed, and sure enough, there he was: John Fucking Mactavish. In the flesh.

“Bloody hell, Johnny,” Simon gasped, running to meet him, to fall into his outstretched arms. The pieces didn’t fit together, but relief overshadowed logic. It clarified somewhat the steps taken between point A to B, becoming clearer yet when Simon all but phased through his lover’s body

Sprawled on the ground where he fell, Simon’s wide eyes met Johnny’s wide eyes, both men completely, utterly flabbergasted.

Johnny broke the silence first, laughing, “Okay, this is unspeakably terrible but you gotta admit, it’s kinda funny.”

“What?” Simon asked, aghast. His comms crackled with someone saying something important—not quite as important as this, though.

“You’re Ghost,” Johnny began, “and I’m a ghost . Get it?”

Simon groaned though he actually wanted to cry. It was weird. Obviously.

“Don’t worry yer pretty head, I’ll explain it later. First, get your arse out of here alive, ” Johnny said in a rushed sort of way, as if his life was still on the line. He checked over his shoulder. “Now would be nice.”

So Simon did.

The rest, they say, is history.

———————————————

Now, several months later, they are indulging in a much-needed date night. Date nights are often called much-needed, be it as an excuse for getting a little quality time, stress relief, or simply an effort to keep the romance alive. Such concerns are all the more salient for soldiers, especially when only one of the two is alive.

For obvious reasons, the activities requiring more action tend to be a bust. Take for example last month’s arcade excursion. Who would’ve known it’s hard to play pinball when you can’t fucking touch things? As such, dinner dates prove to be a favorite. They’re a pleasant play at normalcy, and as a bonus, they’re an excuse to try out new restaurants.

This week is Johnny’s choice—a swanky little establishment with romantic lighting and an extensive cocktail menu. Johnny haunts Simon’s shoulder as they enter, looking rather pleased with the overall ambiance.

His question of “Not too shabby, eh,?” doesn’t receive a verbal response, but Simon flashes a subtle smile and its answer enough, all things considered.

That is, Simon can’t exactly say “not at all” without the hostess thinking he’s lost his fucking mind. Obviously, such an outcome isn’t exactly “ideal” in the strictest sense of the word. A smile, however, can pass as a greeting, and apparently it does. Public communication is a game of double-meanings these days.

“Just yourself?” the hostess asks the big scary man in front of her.

“Yeah,” Simon nods, “and my stupid ghost boyfriend.”

He keeps that second part to himself. If she thinks the solo-diner is odd, she doesn’t show it. In fact, she remarks that it’s all “grand” before leading him to an open table.

Along the way, Johnny sends a conspiratorial look. “She got something against Scots? Didn’t even look at me”. He makes this joke every damn time they go out, unchanging in its delivery dripping in mock-offense.

Simon shoots him a sharp “shut the fuck up” glare, same as always, and lets Johnny take the far seat, also same as always. Simon isn’t overly fond of having his back to the door, but he levies that risk against the risk of seeming insane for chatting with an empty seat. All relationships involve a bit of give and take.

The hostess isn’t yet out of earshot when Johnny leans in with a mischievous grin. “You’re looking good, Si. Real good. In fact, so good I’d take you over this table, right here, right now.”

Simon rolls his eyes. “You can’t. Twat.”

“A man can dream, no?” Johnny settles with a shrug. He watches fondly as Simon scans the menu, his lovely little eyes trailing from left to right, left to right. What a human thing to do. What a not-human thing to admire.

It’s not even like he can’t read anymore—he can. It’s just hard to find purpose in it when the only way he can apply it to the world is through a tall, blond proxy.

“I mean it, though. You’re the most gorgeous thing I ever did see.”

Simon blushes for the dead man. It’s funny. Johnny was never quite as forthcoming with the compliments when he was alive. His reasoning was that he was afraid of the openness, afraid of any negative reaction his flirtations would get him. He doesn’t give much of a shit anymore. Dying really puts things in perspective.

Simon looks up from the menu with a shy, fond smile. “Anything stand out to you?”

“You” Johnny responds with a wink, “but if you’re talking about what’s on the menu, hm. Can’t say no to some lamb but…” he trails off and pulls a face, “the hell are fondant potatoes”

“Fondant potatoes?” Simon parrots before scanning the menu with a light frown. “No fucking clue. Sounds pretentious as shit.”

“I’m saying!”

“Fondant potatoes...” he mutters. A few more moments pass and Simon finally shakes his head with an exasperated sigh. “This whole bloody menu is pretentious, Johnny. You won't do much better than fondant potatoes .”

“Lamb with the pretentious potatoes then,” Johnny says after a bit of hemming and hawing. “Sacrifice them real nice for me, eh, baby?”

“I always do.”

It’s true enough, if only because of the all-or-nothing nature of sacrificing, a process Simon has well worked out since they discovered it.

According to legend, Simon was drinking his sorrows one sad night when Johnny nodded to his beer and requested Simon—verbatim— “pour one out for the homie.”

Simon, not particularly amused, grumbled “for the homie” and wailed the bottle across the room. Just as it exploded into a shower of glass and stout, another similarly half-drunk bottle appeared on the table.

They didn’t notice it at first. Johnny was too busy chewing Simon out and Simon was too busy getting chewed out. It was in the silence afterwards when Simon, looking for a sip of relief, reached for the bottle with swaying hands and startled as his hand passed straight through the bottle, as if it wasn’t even there.

“The hell?”

Johnny glanced over just as Simon’s fingertips emerged from the glass. Half-awed with a half-baked conclusion already in mind, he muttered, “no bleeding way,” and repeated this phrase over and over as he tentatively reached for the bottle to test his hypothesis. To his surprise and delight, it toppled at the touch of a finger.

He was beaming when he looked Simon’s way. “Bleeding fucking Jesus. You did it.”

They found through experimentation that successful sacrifices require two things: destruction and intention. Pouring one out—complete destruction—for the homies—intention.

Both are necessary, and as an interesting and limiting caveat, the sacrifice has to be rendered completely useless in one world to transfer to the other.

In other words, when Simon asks the server for two orders of lamb with fondant potatoes—one for here, one takeaway—he does so with the intention of flushing the latter down the toilet. The wine is a different story.

“Cabernet or pinot noir,” Simon hums in feigned contemplation. In reality, he’s waiting for Johnny to stop cooing about “how sexy he sounds speaking French” and spit out a fucking answer. Luckily, the mask does a great job of hiding his annoyance and blush.

“Pinot noir,” Johnny decides with a nod.

“Pinot noir,” Simon repeats.

Johnny groans indulgently as the server pens the order into her notepad, but is merciful enough to wait for her to leave before saying, “y’know, I only got the pinot because you say it so sexy, and I just needed to hear it again.”

“You’re fucking insufferable,” Simon responds, utterly devoted to suffering Johnny for as long as fortune would let him. He keeps that to himself, though. No need to tell the world that water is wet.

Case in point, Johnny’s chin rests easy in his palm, turning his fond smile smushed and insufferably sweeter for it. Death filed away at his rough edges somehow, left him soft. Simon, too.

They shoot the shit over the empty table, basking in normalcy they don’t deserve, and let the conversation take a raunchy turn. As if they’d be able to act on half the things they discuss.

The server returns at a decidedly inopportune moment but bless Simon’s poker face, she has no idea her customer is hearing the tail end of a particularly foul fantasy, courtesy of his unseen companion.

“Call me crazy, Johnny,” Simon whispers once the server leaves, “but it seems like you save the nastiest shit for when we have an audience.”

Johnny doesn’t even hesitate. “Aye, I do. Very intentionally.”

“Well, interested in continuing your little story?” Simon asks with raised brows. He idly spins the wine around the glass.

“I’m more interested in trying that cabernet.”

“Pinot noir,” Simon corrects.

“Ooh, baby ,” Johnny croons, and Simon swears when he realizes his mistake, swearing even more as Johnny gloats his victory. Unable to react in any meaningful way without looking insane, Simon instead opts to glare Johnny down, and he continues until Johnny gets his fill of gloating and turns his attention back to the wine. “Come on now. Give us a taste?”

Simon raises a brow. “With that attitude?”

“I’ll let you call it a cabernet,” Johnny barters. Simon lets him squirm. “Or even pin-not no-were .”

“Beg for it,” Simon dares, donning a shit-eating grin while he waits expectantly.

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Please can I have some pin-not no-were .”

“Try again. Say it sexy this time.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Johnny groans, “can I pretty please have the pee-no nwahr ?”

That seems to do the trick and with a satisfied, obnoxious smirk, Simon bats the glass to the floor. “Cheers, love.”

part 2

#ghost’s ghost #my writing #mine #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soapghost #soap x ghost #ghoap #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #simon riley x john mactavish #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #simon riley x soap mactavish #the woes of covering all the tag permutations for your ship #when both characters in question have aliases

[intocleanness]

kill six billion demons brainvomit: the sequel nobody wanted, everyone groans at my bullshit

MAYA TEN METI

MATHANGI MANTRA “SLAUGHTER THE GODS AND TOPPLE THEIR THRONES”

lets talk about her for a minute. not like you can stop me.

Maya’s like Solomon David, she’s learned the folly of Sword Law the hard way on a smaller scale but the fact remains: she had everything and then she lost everything. Her entire life, she chased power. When she was a child she came to Meti, begging her for strength. Time and time again Meti denied her. She grew, the war of the demiurges erupted, she got the training she wanted alongside the street urchin-turned-swordsman Incubus. She became a god of the fractured world and returned to her master in all her splendor and glory.

And Meti destroyed her with a single fucking question: “Suppose you win, what then?”

This is where the paths of Solomon David and Maya diverge. Maya realized she had no answer for that, what would happen after there was no more recourse by violence. What do you do when Sword Law is no longer necessary?

She took Meti’s advice: she laid down her swords as ugly pieces of metal for idiots and built a house, learned the herbs of the forest and the taming of animals. She raised a family and was happy for a time. She learned the correct lessons.

And now we must turn to look at Incubus. Because we cannot talk about Maya without talking about Incubus. I apologize but it simply must be done.

The first word I think of when I think of Incubus is “desperate.” He needs above all else to be validated in any way whatsoever, friend or foe. He tells Allison “You need this” like some creepy dream stalker and Maya is only still alive out of hatred for him. It makes sense though, the first we see of him, he’s a feral street orphan that hears Meti and Maya and without hesitation carves his scalp to the bone with a rusty sword. Incubus fundamentally needs to be important to somebody, anybody, in any fashion. Present him with a rat, say “kill it,” and he’ll chop it in half without hesitation. He will do anything to be more than nothing.

He and Maya seem to have a good relationship right up to the moment she decided to actually listen to Meti and cast off the trappings of godhood in favor of leading a normal life. At which point Incubus thought “you can’t discard me. I need to matter. I won’t be discarded!”

And then he murdered her family and ripped the syllables of God out of her head. Then he tried ten times to decapitate her and failed.

Here is where I wind back around to talking about Maya. I don’t have a specific word to describe Maya, but gun to my head? “Hate.” Maya hates Incubus so much she has lived for thousands of years. Maya hates so hard, she can not so much cut as hate you in half. The fundamental principal of her technique, the Maybe Sword, is that the wielder can simply will something to be cut, But as she says, its foundation is in anger and grief, so it is a terrible thing to wield.

Can it kill a god? Maybe.

Maya regrets that she has this knowledge and wishes she was a simple noodle seller, just like Meti told her all those years ago. Incubus? guy sucks wish i didnt have to talk so much about the fucking stinkboy. hes an extraordinarily poor swordsman

#kill six billion demons

[reviewdiaries]

Nancy x Ace and the conundrum of pain in 4x12

Alright kids, buckle up for one last time. Don’t worry I will absolutely be back next week for more, but this is the last one where we still have some story left to discover, and I am all up in my feels about this.

There are definitely storytelling choices that I feel are ahem, slightly misguided, but as ever I’m focusing on the Nace of it all, and despite another painful episode of heartbreak, angst, and shouting, I genuinely think we’re making progress. And gosh there’s a lot to unpack from this last episode - it gets long under the cut.

We finally know what the sin was, and we’ve seen them get their memories back. But I still think there’s something else at play here. Because we had heart eyes adoration. We had heartbreak and pain. We had breakups and desperate longing and despair. But then we suddenly shifted to indifference in the wake of that phone call and Nancy’s trip to the Yacht Club. Which either is terrible writing, or it’s some other puzzle piece at play here that we have yet to see. I’m still clinging to the latter. I think there are a few more revelations to come, and I don’t think Nancy and Ace are operating with their full range of memories and emotions yet - hence the anger, indifference, and general out of characterness we’ve been getting.

These last few episodes have served a really interesting purpose though, untethering Nancy and Ace and allowing them to stand on their own. It’s highlighted how much Nancy needs the support of those around her - forcing her to acknowledge her feelings and how important this found family of hers is. But it’s also given Ace the space to breathe, to try and work himself out, to learn to trust himself, to stand up for what he needs and wants, and how he functions as an individual instead of just constantly in service to others. That’s been hard to watch, but it’s been important.

The Nancy and Ace we saw at the start of this season were amazing, yes, look at the yearning! The pining! The heart eyes! But as a couple they were going to run into problems really quickly. They weren’t managing to communicate well - Nancy has slowly been learning not to close herself off since way back in season one where suddenly she wasn’t the only one invested in solving the Tiffany Hudson murder. And Ace has always been supportive of her, quietly there ready for when she finds the words. But they have always struggled to actually communicate effectively, particularly when things are going badly. Nancy takes everything as a rejection and abandonment, Ace actively puts his needs to the bottom of the pile in favour of protecting those he loves. This isn’t healthy, and it isn’t the foundation of a good relationship. And we want them to have a good relationship, we want them to last, because even now for me, they are still endgame. 

They have needed to have that time and space to work some of their own issues out so that they can come back to each other on a more equal footing. To be able to say absolutely I want this, I deserve this, and we can do this together. 

And it’s always been up to Ace to come back. He is the one who walked away, who committed the ultimate abandonment as far as Nancy is concerned. He’s the one that said stop, no, we’re not doing this. And partly as respect for his wishes, and partly because he’d basically just put a fist through her heart by saying that and then leaving, Nancy has stopped. She’s been devastated, broken, looking for something easy that doesn’t hurt as much, but she has respected his wishes. Which is why it’s up to Ace (hey Ace you’ve done some really excellent growth and learning to stand on your own and have your own boundaries and needs, time to put that into action) to come back. To admit he still loves her, he still wants her, he still wants to make this work.

Do I think the writers are waiting until the absolute eleventh hour and really making this pivot a hard one to pull off? Absolutely yes, dear god this feels a little unnecessary. But I do still think we’re getting this pivot. Nancy and Ace have needed to have that space and individual plot lines to come back together as a stronger whole.

Which is why this revelation about what actually happened the night of the boat trip hits that much harder. This is the very first time we’ve seen Ace beg Nancy to come, to be there. She’s the first person he calls. He just needs her there because something awful has happened and she is his safe space. 

GIF Credit @thatonekimgirl

This is huge, life altering vulnerability from Ace in a way we have never ever seen. In all the tragedy, she is his first thought. Not to fix anything, not to make it go away, just to be there with him, hold his hand and smooth his hair away from his cheek and hold him steady in a world that feels like it’s falling apart around him. 

GIF Credit @thatonekimgirl

And any other night, Nancy probably would have made a different decision. But she’s emotionally wrecked from her mum’s memorial. She is adrift in grief and fear because those first weeks after her mum died are a haze of darkness and pain, and on this anniversary night she feels the closest to that pit of grief than she’s felt in a long time, and it would be so easy to tip back into it. Shut her eyes and let it consume her.

And Ace is there and he’s panicked and desperate and she’s never seen him like this - never been allowed to see him like this. He is vulnerable and trusting in a way she has never witnessed. 

GIF Credit @thatonekimgirl

And she just wants him to be ok. She can’t bear the thought of him going through a fraction of the pain she experienced with the loss of her mum. The guilt, the despair, the anger. She wants to spare him as much pain as she can because she loves him. It’s never about thinking he isn’t strong enough to hold it, it’s not about selfishly trying to keep him as he is. She is, in that moment, so full of love and desperation that she would do anything. And she’s not thinking straight, she just wants him to be ok. Isn’t that all we want for the ones we love?

So she leaves him. Breaks every speed limit getting to the yacht club, just wants it done, wants to take the pain away, smooth the lines from Ace’s brow and wipe the tears from his face. Heal the pain bracketing his mouth as he bites his lip trying to keep the grief at bay. He knows he did the right thing, but it still hurts, still feels like it carved out a piece of him to leave someone to a death like that to save his father. And he’d do it again, even though it would kill him a little more, there’s no way he would change what he’d do, no way he wouldn’t save his father every time.

She isn’t thinking, not really. Panicked by the vulnerability, the fear, the pain, the tidal wave echo of her own grief. She can’t take that away, hasn’t even thought to, can’t imagine herself with the grief hollowed out of her bones. But she can do this for Ace, help him, save him. Doesn’t think through the consequences. Doesn’t think through what else might be taken. What this house of cards might look like when it begins to crumble down. This isn’t Nancy thinking clearly, this is Nancy acting purely on instinct - fear, grief, pain. Her own and Ace’s. And if she can’t be with him at the very least she can take away this burden, ease it for him, shoulder some piece of the load. 

But he’s right to be angry once he understands. He’s right to call her out on it. She had no right to do what she did, particularly without telling him what she was going to do. There’s no way he would have let her. And maybe that’s partly why she didn’t say anything to him before she left. Because she didn’t want him to talk her out of it, didn’t want him to have to understand what loss feels like. What regret eating you away from the inside can do to a person. 

This is where my comment from last week comes into play though. Ace has been so bad at standing up for himself, for calling Nancy out before this season. We’ve had odd moments - the Aglaeca and how angry and scared he was to be caught up in a death curse. But he’s always kept his feelings quiet and bottled until the odd moment where they explode out (see 4x02 and the passive aggressive snark and withdrawing we get from Ace). But last week we saw him standing up to Nancy, arguing, fighting, getting what he needed. And it’s left a muscle memory path for him to follow so we get not one but two fights this episode. And sure, I’d much rather there were heart eyes and curse breaking, but honestly? The fighting gives me hope. It tells me there’s still something there, there are still messy tangled feelings mixed up in all of this. And it starts to offer a more solid foundation, an equal footing for them to build off. 

To say the things they’ve kept bottled up inside, to actually call out what’s upsetting them. That it hurts that each of them seem to have moved on even though neither of them actually have. That it hurts to be around each other, to be so tied up in each other because they can’t bear to be apart. That they’re afraid, so so afraid of what might happen next - of losing each other, of trying and failing, of the possibility not living up to the reality.

GIF Credit @livelovecaliforniadreams

And the sucker punch of realisation that Ace has that Nancy isn’t moving on or as put together as she’s seemed. That they’re both still such a mess over each other and putting on a front that is far too effective because they’re both too blinded by the pain.

GIF Credit @livelovecaliforniadreams

But the real pain, because this episode is just a heaping plate of pain after pain, comes with that final confrontation at Icarus Hall where Ace finally calls Nancy out for what she did. Because it feeds into everything he already fears, that he isn’t enough as he is. That Nancy would do something to change him, to remove his pain, his grief, the painful experiences that ultimately are part of him.

GIF Credit @livelovecaliforniadreams

But with the darkest low points come a turning point, because Nancy needed to be called out. She needed to be told her actions weren’t acceptable, no matter that they came from a place of love, of trying to protect him. She has to have this moment of understanding, of Ace putting it in terms that she could understand so that she can see the damage that has been done. 

GIF Credit @livelovecaliforniadreams

They can’t start anything without getting this poison purged, without fighting their way to the truth, no matter how badly it hurts, to start from somewhere clean and whole.

Whilst I know most would rather pretend that kiss at the end didn’t happen, I would like to make one comment on how it evokes Ace even when he’s not there.

Tristan comes to Nancy filled with emptiness, not knowing who he is, something she can entirely relate to - she’s just been rightfully chewed out by Ace who has broken her heart into even smaller pieces than previously thought possible, and walked away again. And then Tristan tells her exactly what she has only ever wanted to hear from Ace - that he feels connected to her, and he kisses her. And she tries, gosh she tries to get into it. Her hands go into his hair and then jerk back out when it’s not the expected softness of Ace’s hair. She tries again and still can’t. You can see on her face that this isn’t the fireworks and mind melting best kiss of her life. This isn’t even close. But then he says “But I know I can’t walk away from you” and it immediately taps into that memory. The heartbreak is on her face and it’s not Tristan she’s thinking of then, it’s another kiss in this space, and another person’s hair, and someone she desperately wants to stay, to choose her, who has walked away from her and broken her heart so many times over these last few weeks. There’s a breath of relief when her phone rings and offers her a way out of this. Because she thought this would be easy, that this would be better, good for her. And all it’s done is serve to highlight that there’s no one but Ace for her.

So we leave them with one episode to go, broken but healing, finding parts of themselves they hadn’t realised existed, and slowly coming back to their love. Always their love, it’s tangled into everything, and we’re finally going to see that play out next week.

On a personal note, this season has been a curious one for me. I’ve overall really enjoyed it, and I think a lot of that is down to doing these analysis posts. It’s forced me to go back over the episodes in miniscule detail, and to really examine what’s happening and why. Believe me there were weeks where I finished my first watch and wanted to post this gif and be done with it.

GIF by lecoeurasesgifs

But doing these posts has pushed me to unpick what the writers have been trying to do in a way I wouldn’t normally have engaged with. So thank you for feeding the meta beast. 

I can really understand why people have found this season frustrating, there have been a lot of shall we say interesting choices, for lack of a better word. Part of that is down to the completely broken system we have where shows kinda have to act like they’re about to get cancelled at any moment, which inhibits really thoughtful, interwoven long form storytelling, or they do what Nancy Drew have done and desperately hoped they will get to keep telling these stories and then have to pivot if they’re given any sort of warning that it’s over. And in this case, means we’ve had to have a hard pivot which has shafted a lot of storylines and left a lot of fans (myself included at points) wondering what the hell is going on.

That said, I’ve still really enjoyed the journey. Not just of this season, but the whole show. It’s given me a found family to root for, supernatural shenanigans, thoughtful and well plotted storytelling, and a romance for the ages. Yes I still think we’re going to get that, despite all the roadblocks in these last few episodes. It’s been my spoopy little comfort show through some really difficult years, and I am going to miss it hugely. Thank you to anyone who has read and engaged with these posts, it’s been such a joy both writing them and then talking with people afterwards about them. We’ve got one more wild ride to see how Horseshoe Bay and the Drew Crew will be left, and I cannot wait.

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #nancy x ace #ace [redacted] #cw nancy drew #nace #nancy drew spoilers #nancy drew analysis #nancy drew meta #naceedit #The Heartbreak of Truth #Nancy Drew 4x12 #Nancy Drew 4.12 #We're so close to a happy ending #I can almost taste it #Although if I'm wrong I will absolutely get my clown hat out next week #But I truly believe love will win out #And this love is the truest #It's just got some stumbling blocks whilst they work themselves out #I love them your honour

[goldenblu]

ohhh my gosh that whole mask sanji idea has me REELING. sanji gains emotions the hard way but he's constantly questioning if it's real or not, if it's still an act, if it has ever been an act, who is his loyalty to now, to his country or his crew? which family? and maybe stealth black has been a mask as well, maybe that cruel, apathetic assassin is a product of pretending for the vinsmokes- so is there anything left of him that is not hollow desire to play for affection?

even if there isn't. the strawhats will love every part of him they find. maybe it will be hard at first, maybe they will feel betrayed and lost and angry. but he is nakama, and a mask is still a product of skin and bone. he has always been capable of being sanji.

like no pressure to continue on this idea in fic form but my god, if you have any more thoughts on this or anything like it i would pay to see them <3 it's so beautiful

YOU. YOU GET IT.

asdksfja;lksjf sanji realizes that he’s come to see the strawhats as something more than a target, a tool to use and then cast away.

(he doesn’t dare to think the word family because that would be a betrayal of his real family, wouldn’t it? it would be an admission of his failure, and he refuses to be a failure.)

it’s all part of the act, he tells himself. it doesn’t mean anything. it won’t last.

but it doesn’t change the fact that he remembers all the strawhats’ favorite foods, that he knows how tell when chopper needs a little hot chocolate pick-me-up, that fighting back to back with zoro feels in sync and familiar in a way that it shouldn’t. all of these useless pieces of information and instincts that he shouldn’t have but does anyway.

so sanji panics—and isn’t that a new experience for him, panicking. every time the strawhats look at him, they see someone who doesn’t actually exist, shouldn’t exist. it makes him feel some emotion that he’s never felt before and can’t identify. it’s terrible; he can’t stand to be this person he’s not for any longer.

maybe he’s the one to reveal his true identity and goal to the strawhats. because he knows he’s in too deep; he needs to cut these ties himself and finish the mission he should have finished long ago.

or maybe it’s not up to him at all, maybe judge sends one of his brothers to find him because he’s taking too long. ichiji or whoever shows up on the sunny, gets a laugh out of sanji trying to play house on a boat, and then announces that sanji doesn’t need to pretend anymore, it’s time to deal the finishing blow and return home with whatever information he’s acquired.

however it happens, sanji does the whole “my name is vinsmoke sanji” speech from wci except it’s real this time, and that’s how the truth comes out. which is fine, it doesn’t matter what the strawhats think of him. it’s better this way, it’s better that they know where sanji’s true loyalties lie: with germa.

(right? this has always been an indisputable fact. so why does he feel so conflicted about it now?)

i don’t know how the plot would play out from here but later, when push comes to shove, sanji realizes at the very last minute that all he’s doing is exchanging one mask for another. he can’t go back to how things were before—his father won’t like that one of his perfect sons is compromised with such weaknesses, but more than that, sanji doesn’t want to be the emotionless third prince of germa anymore.

(the thought he won’t allow himself to think: maybe he never did.)

he never realized before that it was possible to have the freedom to choose, but he does now. so he pulls an uno reverse card and instead of betraying the strawhats, he betrays the only life he’s ever known and saves the strawhats instead, very publicly turning his back on the vinsmokes. the details of how exactly this happens escape me but let’s assume he’s successful in telling germa to fuck off. (for now, at least. i imagine this doesn’t last since judge would be unimaginably angry and go after him, but that’s a problem for later sanji.)

regardless, when it’s all said and done, sanji doesn’t expect the strawhats to allow him back onto the crew. he’s not a good person, he’s deceived and killed hundreds of people in cold blood. he lied to them, betrayed them, pretended to be someone he’s not. the strawhats know that now. by all rights, they should want to kill him. most people would. sanji would.

but they don’t. sanji doesn’t know what they see in him, but whatever it is, it’s enough for luffy accept him even after everything he’s done. admittedly, the rest of the crew still has their reservations; it’s clear enough that they’re hurt and angry and wary of him.

you broke our trust, nami tells him.

i know. sanji hesitates, and then says, i’m sorry.

it’s new to him, this feeling of guilt eating away at him, and he almost stumbles over the words. he’s never had to apologize before, not genuinely. stealth black doesn’t apologize. stealth black doesn’t feel regret.

but he’s not stealth black anymore. he’s someone else. he doesn’t know who, exactly, but he does know who he wants to be. black leg sanji, the man who only existed on this ship for these past few weeks/months, the man who was capable of caring and being cared for—sanji wants that to be real.

luffy’s giving you a chance to rebuild it, nami says. so don’t waste it.

it’s hard, at first. sanji has never not had to play a role before so now he’s confronted with the question: what parts of him are the result of the persona he puts on and what parts are truly sanji? he’s worn a mask in some form or another for so long—certain things are so ingrained in him that he can’t tell the difference anymore.

the next time he cooks dinner, he wonders: is this desire to feed his the crew real, or is it a leftover habit from black leg sanji? the next time he kills someone for going after the strawhats, he wonders: this ruthless capacity for violence, does that come from himself or from vinsmoke sanji?

but maybe it doesn’t matter where it came from because he can make it his. because nothing can take away the fact that for the first time, sanji is doing what he wants to do and not just what he’s told to do.

he says as much to luffy, who smiles and responds, i always knew you could do it.

and over time, the strawhats begin to trust him again. usopp stops being quite so nervous around him. nami starts working on her maps in the galley again, and this time sanji doesn’t have to lie when she asks him questions about the islands he’s been to. zoro tells him that he’d better not hold back during their spars, so sanji stops trying to hide it and lets his sharp edges stay sharp and dangerous and deadly. chopper learns the truth about sanji’s physical enhancements but it doesn’t stop him from worrying over him anyway, which makes sanji’s chest feel warm for some reason.

(and that’s a whole other thing—now sanj has to figure out how the fuck he’s supposed to deal with having emotions because holy shit do you people feel this way all the time?? it’s so much, it’s overwhelming.

he keeps having to ask: what is this feeling or that feeling or that feeling?? and everyone teaches him: fear. sadness. happiness. all things that sanji once thought were impossible for him to feel.)

he still struggles to balance kindness and cruelty sometimes—though he’s capable of feeling compassion now, it’s mainly only ever for the strawhats, and he’s still merciless to anyone he considers an enemy. in any case, his crew is there to support him, to help him figure out: who is he in the absence of everything that’s defined the last nineteen years of his life?

the answer? the cook of the strawhat pirates, sanji. just sanji. that’s who he is and who he’ll always be.

#one piece #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #stealth black sanji au #i need to come up with better au names lmao #got a bit sappy at the end there but it’s okay IN THIS HOUSE WE EMBRACE CRINGE #ask #mine #my writing #in a perfect world i would write a fic for this but alas it’s not gonna happen #don’t have the bandwidth and also #(slight spoiler warning for hold your fire) #i think it might overlap a bit with what i have planned for the second half of hyf hehe #WHICH I STILL HAVENT STARTED WRITING YET orz