#Those stars? Drew em one by one ;;

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS THE ANTIDOTE

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: you didn’t like jake seresin. you tolerated him. if you hadn’t befriended bradley bradshaw, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. he was everything you weren’t. delta chi’s golden boy, popular, desirable, and a charmer. you did not like jake seresin. so why did it hurt when he didn’t want you?

wc: a monstrous 8.6k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), mentions of sex/hookups, alcohol and drinking, weed (briefly mentioned), self deprecating thoughts, jake is lowkey an asshole, and language

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Whoever said group projects got easier in college don’t know what they’re talking about. If anything, group projects were the bane of your existence—the reason why you considered dropping out every semester. Being in your third year, you were just barely surviving the group project epidemic. This semester, however, had you at your wits end. All because of a stupid assigned group project.

You had an affinity for being a perfectionist. You were all work and no play. While many of your peers thought it was infuriating, you saw it as your best feature. You got things done. You couldn’t say the same for everyone else. A stick in the mud, a hardass, whatever they chose to call you didn’t matter at the end of the day.

“I’m telling you Nat, they’re imbeciles. The entire time we were exchanging contact information, I thought my head was going to explode from the idiocy spewing from their mouths.” Sitting in the busy dining hall, you rant to your best friend Natasha Trace of the absolute horrors of group mates you’ve been given for this assignment.

You met Natasha at a student mixer in your first year of university. The two of you hit it off immediately from bonding over your tastes for cheesy romance novels and an overly concerning obsession for Dr. Pepper and Smarties. Since then, you two became thick as thieves and haven’t looked back since. 

“Maybe you’re being a little too quick to judge,” Nat counters, playing on the remaining peas on her plate with her fork. “You haven’t even given ‘em a chance yet.” That was Natasha for you, ever the voice of reason for your dislike of any person who wasn’t the three you were friends with. 

You roll your eyes and cross your arms across your chest with a pout. “If you met them, I bet you would be saying the exact same thing. Besides, they’re frat guys. Isn’t that reason to hate them enough?” 

“Why didn’t you lead with that? What’re their names? We can get Mickey to stalk them on Instagram or something.” Her eyes light up at the idea. She doesn’t even give you the chance to answer as she pulls out her phone, no doubt to text Mickey if he could do her a favor. 

Mickey Garcia was another one of those close friends of yours. You met him at a Halloween Party where he showed up dressed as Poe Dameron from the later Star Wars movies. Your affinity for Star Wars and a love for Oscar Isaac drew you to him, eventually earning him the affectionate nickname of Fanboy. You introduced him to Natasha and the rest was history. 

You swat at her hand, silently telling her to drop her phone. “No. We are not stalking them on Instagram.” 

The sound of her text tone going off makes you groan. “Too late. Mick already said he’d do it. So, what are their names?” 

You shovel another spoonful of mashed potatoes into your mouth before begrudgingly responding. “Bradley and Jake.” Their names taste like acid in your mouth. So what if you were being a little too quick to judge? You’ve done enough group projects to know this would end up being yet another you would be doing all by yourself. 

Natasha’s quiet as she types up their names and sends them back to Mickey. Barely five minutes passes when she receives a response back. “Is this them?” She shows you her screen and at this point, you’ve learned not to question how Mickey could have possibly found them in the sea of Jake and Bradleys that go to your university–let alone pick out the right ones. You nod and she laughs, scrolling through her phone before moving to the seat next to you. “What did I tell you? He found their Instagram, Twitter, and Tinder profiles! God bless, Mickey Garcia.” 

You push your head against hers, curiosity killing all resolve you had of not caring. The two of you go through their Instagrams and tagged posts like you were reading the morning paper. There wasn’t anything too surprising about them. It was everything you would expect from a twenty something year old guy in a college fraternity. You hated to admit, however, that they were attractive. You were probably too irritated in class to pay attention to how good looking they are. But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you were still dreading to work with the two. 

“See?” You tell Natasha, motioning to the photo she has pulled up of Bradley on one of his fishing trips. “They are grade-A assholes. Everything about them screams douchebag.” 

“You gotta admit, they’re hot,” she breathes and you smack her on the shoulder. 

“Natasha Monica Trace!” 

Nat shoves you back before shrugging. “What? Don’t you agree?” 

“Of course I do, but may I remind you that looks do not equal brains.” You snatch the phone from her grasp and exit out of Instagram. 

Nat places a gentle hand on the crook of your elbow, noticing the tension in your body. “Just give them a chance, babe. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

_______

You didn’t think it was possible to be friends, let alone acquaintances with Delta Chi’s favorite heartbreakers. Three months and two parties later, you found yourself tolerating your fellow project partners. Then the impossible happened. Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin proved your first impression of them wrong. Well, Bradley did. Jake was the preppy douchebag you suspected him to be. He sat back while Bradley and you pulled his weight. You hated him and his dimpled, Hollywood smile. You hated those lips that knew exactly what to say to get anyone in a three foot radius on their knees. Not to mention those annoyingly green eyes of his. 

Once the project was complete you thought you’d never have to interact with them ever again. Oh, how wrong you were. If only you hadn’t offered up your apartment to complete the assignment. Then they wouldn’t have met Nat, Mickey, and Bob. They wouldn’t have invited them to their stupid frat party. You wouldn’t have been forced to see them outside of scheduled study time and your friends wouldn’t have fallen perfectly in line with theirs. 

Though you will admit, they weren’t all bad. Surprisingly, you actually appreciated most of their company. Underneath Bradley’s frat boy personality, was a secretly brainy political science major and one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. His other friends, both from Delta Chi, also became fast additions to your little group. Javy Machado and Reuben Fitch were charmers and they knew it. But they were kind and didn’t have an obnoxiously large ego that most frat boys had. 

You loved them all, but you couldn’t stand Jake Seresin. No matter how badly he tried to get on your good side, you wouldn’t have it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being another person to fall victim to his charm. 

“Well Ace, you’ve somehow managed to ruin the fun. Again,” Jake deadpans from where he sits across from you at the coffee table. He bet that you couldn’t beat him at a round of chess. You took that challenge and beat him in three rounds. 

A smug smile overcomes your features as you get up from your criss-crossed position and do a little happy dance at Jake’s obvious disappointment. “Snooze, you lose, Hangman.” 

He groans at the appointed nickname you gave him two weeks into knowing him. Jake had been bragging about his latest sexual escapades and Bradley said something along the lines of him leaving his catch of the day hanging, disappearing before morning. The nickname stuck and became universally used within your friend group. 

You miss the slight upward tug of his lips when you turn around and head to the kitchen to grab another bottle of water. 

Bob, who had been observing each match and quietly serving as referee, broke Jake out of his reverie. “You went easy on her.” 

Jake avoids Bob’s inquisitive stare and focuses on the faded chessboard. “No I didn’t.” 

“Yes you did,” he quips, matter of factly. “I’ve seen you play against Bradley. You’re better than that.” 

“Well, maybe I didn’t want her to feel bad for losing,” He shrugs, nonchalantly. 

“Or maybe you just like seeing her win.” 

Jake chucks the pillow he was sitting on at Bob, quickly shutting him up with a squeak. You make your way back to the table, eyeing the two boys at their strange behavior. “You up for one more round, Seresin?” 

He checks his watch. “Can’t. Have a thing with Sarah tonight.” 

The information makes your heart drop just a little bit in your chest, but you regain your composure. You clear your throat and harden your features. “Oh. Have fun at your…thing.” He didn’t have to tell you it was a hookup for you to know it was a hookup. He had “things” every week, which is why you didn’t understand why this time hurt you just a little more. 

The room is silent after Jake leaves with you washing the dishes while Bob sits and reads on the couch. You anxiously looked to the clock that was incessantly ticking away on the wall, desperate for Natasha to get home. You loved Bob, but right now you needed to have some girl talk. 

You exasperatedly sigh, harshly wiping your palms on the dish rag on your shoulder. 

Bob hums, silently questioning what the matter was. 

“Did Nat say when she was coming home?” You throw the rag on the counter and plop yourself down beside him. “I tried texting her but she hasn’t responded.” 

Bob thinks for a minute, then responds, “Nope.” 

“Well how long is it gonna take her to run this damn errand?” 

One thing about Bob: he was a shit liar. The tips of his ears immediately got red and his blue eyes never had the guts to meet those he was lying to. 

“Bob…” You scoot closer to him, noticing the tell tale signs of his dishonesty. 

“What?” His voice cracks and so does his last bit of dignity. 

“When’s Natasha coming home?” 

One look into your narrowed eyes is all it takes to have Bob breaking his resolve. “Alright, fine. She said she was going to be out past dinner.” 

“Why?” 

The frown on your face almost breaks his heart. “She–well…” He hated lying to you, especially when you looked at him like that. Your little pout and wide eyes had him cursing silently. “She went on a date.” 

“Oh.” Your brows screw up in confusion. “Then why didn’t she just tell me?” 

Bob cringes. “Don’t tell her I told you, otherwise she will kill me.” 

You hold your pinky out to him with a small smile. He links his with yours and the two of you press a soft kiss to your fisted hands before pulling away. 

“Alright, fine. She didn’t tell you because she’s going on a date with Javy,” he rushes out. 

You blink, processing the information. You and Nat told each other everything. Why did she feel the need to hide this from you? You voice your thoughts out loud and Bob shakes his head. 

“She thought you were gonna blow up at her for going out with him. You know, because he’s Jake’s best friend and all.” Bob watches you cautiously. Your temper was unpredictable sometimes. One second you would be fine and the next you would be blowing your top off. He wasn’t sure which side of you he was going to get this time. 

A sniffle leaves you and you wipe at your nose with the back of your hand. “Why would I get mad at her for that?” 

“Because you haven’t had the kindest of opinions towards women who date frat guys, especially Delta Chi ones.” 

You vaguely recall that conversation. You had called those women “airheads who are addicted to sex.” But you didn’t mean it. You were drunk and bitter about the fact that you were in your third year of college and still single. Had you known Nat wanted to go out with Javy, you would’ve kept your big mouth shut. “But I like Javy,” is all you can say. 

Bob nods. “Yeah, but you hate Jake.” 

Your gaze snaps back to him. “So?” 

“So, she thought going out with him was like… I don’t know. Fraternizing with the enemy?” 

“But Javy’s my friend. I don’t care about how close he is to Hangman. He isn’t like him,” you huff. Pulling your knees to your chest, you take a deep breath. “If he makes her happy then…she should go out with him. I just wish she told me.” 

Bob wraps his arm around you, tugging you so your head could rest on his shoulder. He knew there was more to this than you let on. But he let it slide, choosing to comfort you in your conflicted feelings. “When Nat gets home, you should tell her that.” “I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Good.” 

It’s at that moment that the apartment door swings open, revealing Mickey with Jake in tow. Your head snaps up and you see Jake standing there with his mouth agape. 

Mickey nods at you and Bob in quick greeting before pointing a thumb at the man behind him. “Idiot forgot his jacket again. It’s a good thing he caught me in the parking lot.” 

You laugh awkwardly, stiffening in Bob’s hold. 

You feel his arm drop from around your shoulder as he clears his throat, looking away from Jake. 

“Sorry,” Jake’s voice is rough and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite place. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Bob waves him off. “It’s all good. You weren’t interrupting anything. Right, Ace?” 

You can only nod dumbly, still not taking your eyes off of Jake’s vibrant green. 

Jake clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Alright. Well, thanks again for letting me in, Mick. I’ll um, catch you guys later I guess.” He steals one last look of you snugly wrapped up in Bob before rushing out the door with a small shake of his head. 

Jake doesn’t speak to you for a week after that.

_______

The tune of Slow Ride hits your ears and you groan into your cup. Bradley looks at you in amusement from where you sit beside him on the stairs. The boys had decided to unwind from yet another stressful week with yet another Delta Chi party. You were pretty adamant on sitting this one out, mainly because you didn’t want to see Jake or his new conquest of the week. Things have been tense to say the least. The fact that you and Jake didn’t get along wasn’t new to the group, however as the days passed, your nonstop bickering eventually turned to tolerance for one another. Enough to almost say the two of you were even becoming friends. 

Jake still annoyed you to your core but his company somehow managed to grow on you. Which is why his sudden radio silence upset you. It got to the point that you couldn’t even look at him without seeing red. 

“This is stupid,” you grumble, taking another swig of the cheap beer in your cup. You hated these parties. Normally, your friends wouldn’t mind you opting out to stay home instead. However Nat had noticed how your sour mood progressed throughout the week and concluded that you needed to get out to places that weren’t the lecture halls. She begged you to come with her to the party Delta Chi was throwing this weekend. For me? she pleaded, knowing just how much you hated saying no to her. Now that you were here, you longed to be back in the confines of your apartment, snuggled under your covers with a cup of tea and Emily Henry to keep you company. 

Instead, you found yourself crammed in a two story frat house that was filled to the brim with sweaty and intoxicated bodies. The music was too loud and the smell of alcohol and weed was sure to be stuck on your clothes by the night’s end. The only thing keeping you sane was Bradley’s company and you knew that as the night progressed, even he would soon disappear. 

“You want me to take you home?” Bradley asks, leaning down to your ear so you can hear him. 

You shake your head, pushing at his shoulder. “It’s fine. Besides, I have a feeling you’re gonna get lucky tonight, Bachelor.” You nod towards the blonde in the corner of the room whose eyes haven’t left Bradley since the two of you migrated to the staircase. 

He was practically drooling under the dimmed lights as he followed your motions. Bradley sends the girl a smirk before looking at you wordlessly. 

“Go,” you urge him with a laugh. 

He lets out a breath, downing the rest of his drink and giving your knee a squeeze. “Thanks. I owe you!” 

You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Be safe!” 

Bradley winks at you over his shoulder. “Always am!” 

The small smile on your lips fades as you watch Bradley go and flirt with the pretty blonde. You were never the center of attention, never the type that anyone gave their time of day to. You were average. Plain boring. The constant reminder of that was there when you hung out with the boys. You loved them, but hearing the way they talked about other girls did take a stab at your self esteem. You used to make fun of them with Natasha but then she started dating Javy, and became one of those girls. And you don’t blame them, your best friend was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that. You convinced yourself that you liked the lack of attention and isolation. But every now and then, you wished someone saw you and thought, Wow. Now that’s someone I want to be with. 

You push yourself off the carpeted stairs, deciding to find Reuben or even Nat and Javy. The cup in your hand is empty anyways. Might as well get a refill while you’re at it. You can barely move through the sea of people that are packed into such a small space. People were grinding against each other left and right, making you want to hurl. You push your way through the kitchen, finally making it to the open patio where beer pong tournaments and sloppy make outs occurred. The cold, night air feels nice against your hot and sweaty skin. You close your eyes, leaning up against the wall and drown out the music and laughter around you. Peace. You just needed a moment of peace. 

You’re too caught up in your own little bubble to notice the presence that saunters up beside you. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?” 

The voice startles you from your moment and your eyes snap open. A hand reaches up to your racing heart and you turn to meet the source of your sudden adrenaline rush. The man beside you is familiar, you’ve seen him once or twice on campus and at other Fraternity events the boys had invited you to. Not to mention, incredibly good looking as well. 

He holds a hand up, almost like he was trying to calm a rattled horse and sheepishly smiles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You swallow, sharply exhaling and squeezing your plastic up in your hand to ground yourself. “It’s alright.” You avoid his gaze and nervously pick at the chapped skin of your lower lip. 

“Billy Avalone,” he introduces himself with a confident grin. “I think I’ve seen you ‘round with Seresin and Bradshaw.” 

You finally look up to meet his gaze and offer him a dry smile. You offer him an introduction of your own. “Nice to meet you.” 

Billy ever so smoothly scoops up your free hand in his and places a soft kiss to the upside of your hand. Your cheeks heat up at his delicate touch and your knees almost buckle at the glimmer in his eyes. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.” 

His manners make you chortle and you snort, pulling away from him to hide behind your smirk behind your palm. 

Rather than drawing away from you, he finds himself intrigued and raises a brow at your amusement. “What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” you say in between laughter. You grasp your cup with both hands before looking at him with a much more genuine smile on your face. “It’s just… You are not what I expected from a Delta Chi.” 

He nods knowingly, remembering your association with Jake and Bradley. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” 

There was that ego you were looking for. But it doesn’t deter you like it normally would, in fact you find yourself leaning into him. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You shut your mouth immediately after that, quite surprised by your sudden burst of confidence. 

Billy leans into you just as much, letting his hand brush against your forearm. It sends a shiver down your spine and goosebumps arise on your bare skin. “Nice try, but that’s to be revealed only if you agree to go on a date with me.” 

There was no malice in his tone, no laughing idiots around to signify that anything about this was a joke. The look in Billy’s eyes was full of genuine hope and for the first time that night, you find yourself forgetting all about Jake Seresin and immerse yourself in the idea of Billy Avalone. He was charming and attractive. Lean, but broad enough for you to tell that underneath the jacket he wore was all muscle. You found it hard to believe that Billy had any interest in you and yet, here he was, asking you out on a date. Any other day, you would’ve taken a hard pass.You would’ve told him to move along and put his energy into another person who would consider saying yes. But then you think of Nat and Javy and just how utterly lonely you feel, deciding that Billy was worth the chance and the risk. 

You open your mouth to respond, but stiffen at the feeling of warmth that encapsulates your back. You don’t need to turn to know exactly who it is. The familiar scent of laundry detergent and cinnamon washes over you and you resist the urge to fall into him. 

“Billy,” Jake greets, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer to you. His chest just barely brushes against your back sending a new wave of warmth to your neck and cheeks. 

“Hey, Jake.” Billy’s gaze flicks to Jake’s before he focuses his attention back on you, still eagerly waiting for your response. 

Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of Jake’s hand on your lower back and you turn to look at him with furrowed brows. His usually well kept hair was stuffed under his backwards baseball cap and despite the chill of the night air he was in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. 

The air between the three of you is heavy as Billy tries to dismiss Jake’s presence. “So, what do you say about that date?” He smiles at you sweetly, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

Before you can utter a response Jake steps in front of you and blocks you completely from Billy’s view. “Let’s get out of here, Ace.” 

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You scoff, balling your hand up in a fist to resist the urge to slap the back of Jake’s perfect head. “Excuse me? Seresin, will you knock it off?” 

He ignores you, taking a step closer to Billy. Jake straightens his spine. “She’s off limits. Got it, Avalone?” 

“Well, shit, Jake. If that’s your girl, why didn’t you just say so?” Billy gives you an apologetic look from over Jake’s shoulder. 

Jake huffs, almost like an angry bull. “Off. Limits.” 

You frown, adamantly shaking your head. “Wait, Billy. I am not his girl.” 

“No, it’s alright. I’m sorry I even asked. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He knew better than to pick a fight with Jake Seresin. His defeated gaze darts to the floor before he makes his way back into the house. 

Your chest is heaving as you watch Billy walk away. You don’t know whether you want to cry or scream more. You decide on the latter, not deeming Jake worthy of your tears. 

Jake turns to face you, still smiling proudly to himself. His face slightly falls when he meets your eye. He knows well enough that you were not happy. “Ace?” 

You push at his shoulders. “What the fuck, Hangman?” 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hang on–”

The palm of your hands make contact with his broad shoulders once more. “Are you kidding me?” You shove him again but Jake’s hardened features don’t falter. “Who gave you the right? Someone was finally interested in me and you just had to drive them away. Your ego really couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting attention. Is that it?” 

“Ace, wait.” He tries to reach for you but you slap his hand away. 

“No, fuck you, Seresin. You can’t…” Your resolve breaks and the tears that sat on your lash line spill over. “You can’t just ignore me for a week only to talk to me after chasing away the one chance of a boyfriend I’ve got. That’s not fair.” 

“You don’t understand. Billy isn’t good enough for you.” 

“Yeah?” You look at him with tear stained cheeks. “Then humor me. Who is?” 

Jake’s words get caught in his throat as he watches you wipe your tears away with the palm of your hand. He wanted to take your face in his hands and brush those tears away. But he knew you wouldn’t let him. 

“That’s what I thought.” You brush past him, knocking his shoulder with your own. “I’m not like the other girls you mess around with. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to feel wanted too.” 

He calls after you, realizing just how horribly he screwed up. But you continue on back inside, probably trying to find Nat or Reuben to take you home. He knew that you weren’t like the other girls. You were different, you were better. You were everything he wanted and more. From the moment he met you, he was hooked. It scared him at first. You were the complete opposite from the girls he usually set his sights on. You were hard headed, independent, unafraid to call him out on his bullshit. You challenged him and he liked that. You weren’t shallow like everyone else and you made him feel seen. 

He never thought a group project would lead him to you. You iced him out at first, and admittedly he knew he deserved that. Then he got to know you and he realized he never wanted to stop. Jake wanted to be the one on the receiving end of your jokes and the affection you gave to those close to you. He dropped his asshole attitude and made the effort to get you to see the real Jake Seresin. And it worked. He was doing so well to finally get you to let your guard down around him. Yet all that work, all that progress, went down the drain because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. 

By the time Jake caught up to you, you were dragging Natasha out the door with Javy on your tails. His heart dropped to his stomach and he wished he could turn back time to one week ago. Before he hurt you and made you cry. 

_______

Your goal was to forget Jake Seresin ever existed. You threw yourself into your work, locking yourself in your room and spending more time in the library than your own apartment. Now that Nat was officially with Javy, the boys were around more often and you just weren’t ready to face him yet. It wasn’t fair to everyone else, you knew that. But it was easier for you to push them away. You turned back into that academic machine you were before Bradley and Jake forced you out of your shell. You didn’t party, didn’t go out, didn’t join the gang for movie night. Your new friends were your coursework. And when that ran out, you turned to your favorite show reruns for comfort. 

You ignore the series of knocks on your door for the third time tonight. Natasha sighs in defeat, turning back to the group with a shake of her head. “I told you. She’s not coming.” 

Reuben frowns. “Did you tell her Jake wasn’t coming with us?” 

Everyone was aware of your complicated relationship with Jake. The small dance the two of you did was obvious to everyone but yourselves. It was only recently that Jake finally admitted why you’ve been hiding yourself away. If it weren’t for Javy holding her back, Natasha would’ve tore Jake to shreds. 

“I did.” Natasha knew you and she knew you were embarrassed for lashing out at Jake the way you did. Hiding was the safest way to avoid facing yet another humiliating confrontation about your behavior. 

You’ve never spoken to Nat directly about your insecurities, but she saw them in the little things you did. Not bothering to wear extravagant makeup or clothing, putting up a hard front, and pretending not to care. Deep down she knew you cared about how you were perceived. You did care whether or not people found you desirable. You wanted the cliche, movie romance. You wanted someone to sweep you off your feet, just like Westley in The Princess Bride. 

Never, have you let those insecurities break your spirit. Until now. She has never seen you so small. She didn’t understand how Jake Seresin managed to knock you down with just one hit. 

But it has been nearly two weeks since the party and Natasha was done with your groveling and self pity. You were going to get out of your room and you were going to have fun. 

“Just give her a second,” Reuben whispers, having just a little bit of faith left in you. 

It was as if you felt the little piece of hope Reuben had left for you because suddenly, the door of your room swings open and a breath of relief leaves both of your friends. You had decided to come out and join them after all. Nat had told you it was just a casual hangout amongst your friends, bar Bradley and Jake. You settled on changing into an oversized Naval Academy sweatshirt you had thrifted and an old pair of faded jeans. 

Nat hadn’t seen you in anything other than pajama tees and sweatpants so to her, this was a big win. 

Reuben smiles widely at your appearance before coming up to you and gathering you into his arms. “There you are.” His words and affection pulls an unexpected giggle out of you, soothing Reuben and Nat’s nerves. “How’ve you been, Ace?” 

You shrug, shifting in his hold as he keeps an arm around you. “I could be better. But I guess I could be worse too.” 

Natasha hooks your arm with hers, taking you from Reuben’s grasp. “You ready to go? Javy is waiting in the car with Bob and Mickey. I was thinking we could go to The Hard Deck using your car. You know, like old times.” 

That brings a ghost of a smile to your face. The Hard Deck was a place of refuge for you and your group of friends, despite it being a Navy bar. You and Mickey found it by accident, stopping over at the nearest institution because he had to use the bathroom really badly on a drive back to campus. The bartender, Penny Benjamin, was sweet and treated you all like her own children. You haven’t seen her in awhile and just knew a visit to your spot was long overdue. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

The drive to the bar brings a bit of your old spark back. Natasha had the windows rolled down while the two of you belted out your favorite songs at the top of your lungs. She filled you in on all the things you missed from the past couple of weeks, strategically leaving out any anecdotes involving Jake. Though, Nat hasn’t seen him much since the party. It seemed as if he was taken over by the spirit of an old Delta Chi member. He was slumming it with the sorority girls and stayed out late partying with the other guys of his Frat. Bradley had tried to snap him out of it, but he reverted to his old ways. Back to before they met you. 

Upon arriving at The Hard Deck you exchange a round of pleasantries with the rest of your friends who were glad to see you finally out of, as Mickey had called it, your “Bat Cave.” You volunteered to grab some drinks for the rest of the party while they settled in your usual booth in the back. 

You returned to the table with beers for the guys, a club soda for Bob, a Mai Tai for Nat, and a lemonade for yourself. The night was spent full of laughter and warmth as you found yourself slipping back into your natural groove of things. Soon, your once dampened mood started to dissipate. 

“I’m telling you, there’s something going on with Professor Mitchell and Penny,” Mickey slurs. 

The group erupts into chaos then, one talking over the other and you can’t help but laugh as you lean into Mickey’s side. You missed this. You were so hard headed that in the process of blocking one person out, you put it upon everyone else. But you were here now and he wasn’t. That’s all that mattered to you. 

Reuben is the one to calm the group down. “Alright, alright. You’re saying, P. Mitchell and Penny are… romantically involved. Where the hell did you get that idea?” 

“DnD club meets here on Tuesdays and coincidentally so does Professor Mitchell,” he shrugs. 

“Did you say DnD club?” Javy’s wheezing between breaths and Natasha has to slap him on the chest to get him to stop. 

Mickey rolls his eyes. “I have a life outside of you guys, you know.” 

“Yeah, but DnD club?” 

“What’s wrong with DnD?” Bob chimes in, slightly offended. 

Nat slaps him again. “Javy!”

“Right, sorry. Please, continue.” 

“Actually, I don’t think I want to,” Mickey narrows his eyes at the man. 

“Mick, he was joking. Please finish what you were saying.” You tap him affectionately on the shoulder with a gentle smile. 

He attempts to continue his story when a smack to the tabletop catches all of you off guard. You tear your gaze from Mickey to be met with Bradley Bradshaw clad in one of his signature Hawaiian shirts as he leans against the table. 

You give him a pained smile, knowing that where Bradley went, Jake wasn’t far behind. 

“Good to see ya, Ace,” Bradley nods. 

“You too, Brad,” you tell him softly. And you meant it. 

The group falls uncharacteristically quiet and you feel Natasha give your knee tight squeeze. 

“Didn’t know the gang was getting back together.” The familiar snark of the one person you didn’t want to see rings through your ears. Jake Seresin struts over with that stupidly cocky grin of his and unsurprisingly, another sorority girl on his arm. 

No longer caring for pleasantries with the man, you roll your eyes. You hate to admit that it stung to see him with yet another woman. A small part of you hoped that maybe he’d show up empty handed and acknowledge your presence. That didn’t happen and it felt like a knife to the chest. What did you expect? Of course, nothing has changed since the last time you saw him. While you were feeling worse than ever about yourself, Jake had absolutely zero cares in the world. He only cared about himself, he always would. 

Javy was the only one who had the stomach to greet him with a simple, “Hey.” 

He chuckles, almost mockingly, as the girl on his arm tries to gain his attention and pull him to the bar. “Why weren’t we invited to the party?” 

“Because no one wants you here, Bagman,” Natasha spits. 

Jake brings a hand to his chest, acting hurt at her insinuation. “You wound me, Natasha.” 

She gives him the finger in response. 

“Now does everyone not want me here? Or is there a certain someone who doesn’t want me here?” He raises a brow and his bright green eyes land on you. 

You avoid his gaze and you hear Bradley hiss Jake’s name. 

“What? I’m just saying. It’s pretty obvious someone didn’t want me here and we all know who.” Jake doesn’t care that the girl who had been hanging off of him moments ago found someone else to play with, abandoning her post to flirt with another guy over at the pool tables. He had your attention and to him that was enough. 

You feel a familiar sting behind your eyes, knowing damn well he was just toying with you at this point. 

“Stop.” This time it’s Javy who speaks up, surprising Jake. “If you only came over here to be a dick then I suggest you leave.” 

The light mood from earlier has completely died and you know that once he leaves, nothing can bring it back. 

“Ace.” 

He calls you out directly this time and you can’t hold it in any longer. All the hurt and anger he caused bubbles up to the surface. Part of you wants to talk to him, clear the air up a bit and give him a chance to apologize. The other part of you, the more rational part, decides to ignore him entirely. 

You quietly ask Natasha if you could pass and her and Javy get up to stand to the side to let you through. You purposely angle your body so your back is towards Jake, announcing that you were going to get another drink before heading in the direction of the bar. 

Jake moves to follow you, only to be stopped by his best friend. 

Javy grabs his wrist with a disapproving frown. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Let go, Javy,” he absent mindedly demands. His eyes never leave your figure as you make your way through the crowd. 

“No. You’re being an asshole, man. What happened to the guy who was repeatedly texting me to make sure she was okay? I told you where we were because I thought you were going to apologize. Not do… whatever that was.” Disappointment shines in Javy’s deep brown eyes. 

Bradley slides into the space where you once were, watching what was about to unfold with the rest of them. 

“Wait a minute, you told him we were going here? Javy!” Natasha looks at her boyfriend in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry! This idiot told me he wanted to make it up to her.” He gestures blindly to Jake who was running a hand through his already disheveled hair. 

Natasha snorts. “Unbelievable,” she swears under her breath. 

“Nat–” Jake starts, but she cuts him off in an instant. 

“No. You stay away from her, got it? She’s had enough of your games, Seresin, and quite frankly so have I.” 

“I messed up. I know I did. But please, please just give me a chance to explain.”

He takes Natasha’s silence as an unspoken truce. “I care about her. So much that it scares the shit out of me. I was gonna tell her, you know. Then I saw her with Bob and I realized that she could do so much better than me. So I did what I do best. I pushed her away.” 

Bob flushes red at the mention of his name. 

“What is there to say about myself other than that I’m your typical, college fuckboy? The thing is, I was fine with that reputation. I was good at doing things on my own. Then I met Ace and I realized she’s my antidote. That girl gave me tunnel vision. Suddenly, I’m looking at my future and I want to do more with my life than be known as a college heartbreaker. The one thing I know to be true is that I want to be better with her by my side.”

“Why should I believe you after the way you treated her?” Natasha’s gaze narrows, still not fully convinced. 

He swallows harshly. “You have every right not to. I wouldn’t believe me either. But you’ve got to understand that I never realized just how much she really meant to me until I almost lost her.” There’s a look of defeat that crosses his features, and his head falls to his chest. 

Nat’s hardened stare falters ever so slightly. “To Billy. But wait, I don’t understand. What about that girl you came in here with?” 

“Oh, she’s here for free booze. I needed to get Ace’s attention somehow.” 

She rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.” 

Jake nods, regret shining in his eyes. “I know. Listen, I’m not good at relationships.” 

“Trust me, we know,” Bradley mutters under his breath. 

Jake shoots him a quick glare before continuing. “I don’t know how to do them. For Ace, I’ll learn. I would do anything for her. Look, I know I’ve made mistakes and I need to fix them before it’s too late.” 

Natasha was conflicted. She looks at Javy who meets her gaze with a soft smile. Then to Reuben and Bradley. Finally, her eyes land once more on Jake. She found herself in the same dilemma she was in before she started dating Javy. Their reputation precedes them. You were the one to warn her of Delta Chi’s womanizer ways. Yet she still gave Javy a chance and it was the best decision she ever made. She knew deep down that these guys had good hearts. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew Jake did too. He was kinder with you, softer. You always brushed him off but Nat saw the way he affected you. He made you happy and you deserved to be. If she could give Javy that chance, shouldn’t she extend it to Jake too?

She groans with her head in her hands. “Fine. Fine.” 

Jake’s eyes light up, clearly expecting another rejection. “Really?”

“Yes. But I swear if you hurt her again, if you break her heart, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” 

His stomach churns at the thought, knowing full well that she meant it. “Yes, ma’am,” he salutes. 

“Now go get her before it’s too late.” In other words, Natasha had finally given him her blessing. 

Jake’s dejected state is replaced with one of determination. He mouths an appreciative thank you, before setting his sights on you. 

“Forget DnD club, I need to hang out with you guys more often because that was better than a Netflix drama,” Mickey babbles, making Bob smack him lightly on the back of his head. 

With her arms crossed, Natasha stares out the window wistfully. “I just hope he can make things right.” 

Wrapping his arms around Nat, Javy gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, he’s got this.” 

_________

“Hey Pen, can you just tell Natasha to ride home with the boys? I think I’m going to head out.” You place a wad of cash on the bar top, signaling for her to close your tab. 

The woman frowns, noticing the bothersome frown on your face. “You sure, sweetheart?” 

Downing the last of your lemonade, you nod. “Thank you, for the advice and everything.” 

“Of course. Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?” 

A tight smile pulls at your lips in farewell. You push your way through the rowdy crowd, breathing deeply once you make it outside. 

You curse under your breath. You didn’t know it was supposed to rain tonight. You eye your car in the distance, deciding whether to make the trek or go back inside until it stops. The sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention and your heart leaps out of your chest. 

“Ace,” Jake Seresin calls out, desperately trying to reach you. 

You throw all caution to the wind and run out into the pouring rain, too exhausted to deal with him right now. 

His shoes squeak and splash through the puddles on the asphalt. Not caring that he was soaked to the bone, he runs after you. Jake calls out for you again but you continue on. For once, he doesn’t find himself admiring your stubborn attitude. 

You throw a quick glance behind you, hoping to see that you’ve lost him, but Jake’s strides are longer than yours and he has closed more of the distance between you two than you thought. A shiver racks your form and your clothes are sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You find yourself regretting your decision but there’s no way you can take it back now. You shove your hand into your pocket, frantically pulling out your car keys once you make it to your car. 

Jake sees you shiver as you try to unlock your car. You just barely get the driver’s side to open when he comes up behind you and presses the door shut. Your back is to his front and he pleads for you to turn around. 

You hear him before you see him. You don’t want to turn around. You can’t. You know the second you look into his opalescent green eyes, your resolve will shatter. “Get off, Jake,” you demand impatiently. 

“Please look at me, please.” The desperation of his voice startles you. Never, have you heard Jake Seresin say the word ‘please,’ and never have you heard him beg. 

You’re shaking as you wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You bite into your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. From the rain or from the tears that have started streaming down your cheeks, you are unsure. 

“Ace,” he breathes. 

His breath is hot against the skin of your neck soothing you from the cold. But still, you don’t budge. 

Jake finds himself getting frustrated and he runs his hand through his damp hair, moving it away from his eyes. He can barely see your reflection in your car window, his vision blurred from the raindrops that cloud his vision. But the pale moonlight and dim streetlamp shows him enough to see that you feel just as hurt as he does, if not more. “Fine. You don’t have to look at me. I just need you to listen.” 

You say nothing. 

He exhales through his mouth as he recalls what he wants to say. “Remember when we first met and you asked me if I actually had a brain or if I just thought with my dick? That was the moment I knew you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. Usually, I’d have girls swooning over me left and right, but not you. You weren’t fazed by me in the slightest and that intrigued me. Everything about you intrigues me. Which is why I was so eager to get more out of you. I poked fun. I made jokes. I made sure that your attention was almost always on me because when it was, it gave me the best view of each and every thing you had to offer. Like the way you bite your bottom lip when you’re trying not to cry.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat from his words, heart going faster than that goddamn roadrunner. 

“Come on, Ace.” 

How could you deny him when he spoke with so much conviction? You spin on your heel to face him. He’s soaked, just as you are, and yet you think he has never looked so beautiful. As you look at him, the ache in your chest doesn’t subside and you sniffle from the cold. “What do you want, Seresin?” 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. 

You look away from him. “I don’t need your pity.” 

“Hey, I’m serious. I know I hurt you and I will never forgive myself for it.” 

There’s a sincerity in his tone that throws you off. “Then why? If you feel so bad about it, why did you do it?” 

“Because… Because I…” He’s nervous. Of all the times he has ever spoken to you, this is the one time he has felt this way. 

Your patience is wearing thin so you shake your head and run a hand down your face. You were so tired of him holding out on you. “You know what? All I ever wanted was for you to look at me the same way you look at those other girls. Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” Once the floodgates opened, it was hard to get them locked up again. 

You might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest instead of saying that. The effect it had on him would’ve been all the same. “Oh, baby,” he cups your face gently between his calloused hands and strokes his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. The rain made it hard for him to tell which marks were tears and which were rainwater, but he treated them all the same. “Those girls have nothing on my Ace. You are more than enough. You are everything and I was too blind to see it until now.” 

“What?” You whimper. 

God, does he want to kiss that pout right off your face. “I don’t look at you the way I look at everyone else because I don’t want them the way I want you.” 

“And how is that, Jake?” 

That alone gives him a glimmer of hope. His heart skips a beat and his stomach erupts in butterflies.“You called me Jake,” he grins. “You never call me Jake.” 

You scoff, not realizing the name slipped. “Answer the question.” 

“I want every part of you. I want late nights and study sessions. I want to be the first one you call and the last one you text goodnight. The good, the bad, all of it. As long as it’s you.” 

The honesty in his gaze makes you want to believe him. Because that’s all you ever wanted from him. So bad. But he has hurt you one too many times. You don’t think you’d be able to take it if he did one more time. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?” 

Jake takes the leap, resting his forehead on yours. When you don’t pull away, he confesses, “You don’t. But I will spend every day proving to you that I’m never going to make that mistake again.” He brushes some of your damp hair away from your face and admires how ethereal you look in this light. “One date, Ace. Let me make it up to you.” 

You relish in his warmth, the aching hurt in your chest finally subsiding. The raging storm in your heart is finally calm. “One date. That’s all you’re getting.” 

The smile that spreads across his face is the brightest you’ve ever seen. He no longer feels lost now that he has you. “That’s all I need, darling.” 

For once, you believe him. 

add yourself to my taglist!

tgm taglist (does not include ‘seasons’ tags): @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl

a/n: this was supposed to be short, yet here we are. i hope you enjoy frat!jake as much as i do <3 as usual, huge thanks to @briseisgone love u hun.

[ghoulysaphomet]

had a flashback of when i misunderstood a prompt and drew dick in a bunny suit and i just had like the thought of bisexual disaster tim drake combusting.

like..

Dick & Jay are undercover. And wearing bunny suits. at like a queer place, possibly.

imagine hes been dragged to a gay club by his friends and didnt know previously and there is dick serving drinks and hes already like oh no.

turns around and there is jay, no binder tits filling out bunny suit nicely and tims like oh no.

tims like having a crisis meanwhile his friends are like dude its dick!! oh and the one who tried to kill you??

i imagine kon calling him n being like hey dude are u ok ur heart is going fkn crazy rn and tim cant say anything but "wheh"

"is he being hot or is he tryna kill you again?"

"bleh"

"uh-uh"

"bn."

"mhm.."

"bhn!!"

"i see."

"ther's tw' of em"

"..two of them?"

"dcik"

"ah."

"wegh"

"yeah"

meanwhile jason and dick are like

"oh, that's tim. what should we do?"

"he's trained, hopefully he'll act like he doesn't know us?"

"he's been staring at us"

"he does that sometimes, im sure it's fine. just ignore him"

"..okay"

'maybe hes starin cause hes not use to seeing us lookin like we just starred in a gay porno'

"that could be it, it must be.. weird for him, i hope hes not too uncomfortable::/."

meanwhile tims trying not to literally drool and not pop a boner (that ship sails when jay walks and his tits jiggle and dick shasays with his back to tim)

the only downside for tim is they are obviously wearing makeup to hide as many scars as they can.

(all tim can think about for the next few days is those outfits. he hacks the clubs security cameras to get footage of them)

next time he sees jay "oh hi its boob to see you- good! good to see you"

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x City Girl Reader

You and Ghost going off to have a quick smoke turns into something else entirely, after pushing one too many of his buttons tonight.

NSFW 18+ EXPLICIT Shameless Smut, Porn with little Plot, Graphic Description, Teasing, Fliritng, Light Build-Up, Dom Ghost, Brat Reader, Rough Sex, Car Sex, Oral (both), Choking, Spanking, Hair-Pulling, Doggy, Creampie, Reader smokes, Reader is also mean, but so is Ghost in this, but there's chemistry, I hope, you're just getting manhandled, but who doesn't like that ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ"

Word Count: 3.1k

Part One | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Not Required!

Masterlist

Here's the final part to this two parter! It can definitely be read as a one-shot if preferred. Part One is just more build-up for the smut if you prefer it. But yeah, now for the moment we were all waiting for. I hope you enjoy~

Ghost scrounged about the inside of his car, moving over spare jackets and bags, popping open the glove box, until he's found the cigarettes he'd stowed away.

He had parked his car a considerable distance from the club, having found some secluded lot that looked more like a tucked away alleyway than anything else.

Your only complaint had honestly been the walk itself, having spent the past hour or so drinking and dancing in heels. Of course, he wouldn't have cared whether or not you came along. He would have his smoke either way.

The night air is brisk this late into it; the only people on the streets now were those still looking to bar hop. With how far the club was, it was safe to say you would not be disturbed.

Ghost extends a large arm towards you, offering you a smoke.

You take it from him, placing it between your lips and leaning forward so that he could light it for you. Once lit, you lean back against his car, inhaling the nicotine and letting the headrush run through you as you exhaled. Finally, you thought.

"Took you long enough to find 'em," you say. "God damn."

Ghost groans, "Shut up."

Ghost reaches for the bottom of his mask and hooks his finger beneath it, before bringing the fabric up to the bridge of his nose, revealing the lower half of his face -- strong, scarred, and with a light stubble. His slightly tattered lips clasp over his cigarette, as he cups his large hands over his mouth to light it.

While you've never seen him fully unmasked before, there have been times you've caught half of him like this, which hadn't been nearly enough to paint the whole picture, as he knew. You imagined he looked pretty decent under there, given what you have seen. Or you liked to imagine.

The complete and utter tension you see leave him once he's finally able to take his drag is nearly cartoonish. His shoulders slack and he blows the smoke up towards the stars, and let's the city ambience take its place, before you've gone ahead and laughed to yourself.

The silence fell quickly and heavy between you two as the time drew on. Ghost felt content enough just finishing his one and then heading back to join the others. He also had been pretty content with the possibility of seeing what were to happen here, if he were to give you a chance to be around him like this.

He could tell the silences made you uncomfortable. You kept making jokes, some at his expense, some not. You asked him questions, though sparingly, regarding topics and things you haven't had the chance to ask prior. Ghost's replies were short and unmotivated, but he would answer you.

Before long, had his cigarette not gotten lower, he may have lost track of time out here with you. If he hadn't already known you, he may have actually found you a pleasant woman to be around tonight.

Yet even alongside your more magnetic traits, that bratty side of you never quite went away.

At some point you thought it would be entertaining to start blowing your smoke at him every time you took a drag. You'd do so deliberately, making sure your eyes were locked, before bringing your lips to a low pucker and blowing. You'd smile when Ghost would glare afterwards, as if to tell him nonverbally that even now, you didn't give a fuck what he thought.

"Blow that somewhere else," he tells you once.

You cock your head to the side mockingly, already prepared to do the exact opposite of what he was asking. "Or what?"

He doesn't respond.

You laugh to yourself now, debating on whether it would he worth to push his buttons right now. To you, there was always time to.

"What if I like blowing it there?" You ask playfully, and then, you blow more smoke at him.

Ghost turned his head, letting the cloud bubble roll over him as he took another drag himself. He knew that sooner or later something was gonna start, whether it had been from you or him. Usually it was you though.

"Here you go playing the bitch again," he comments. "Suppose old habits die hard."

"You still won't do shit, Manchester." You take another drag from your cigarette and blow it at the lieutenant, watching the white smoke veil around his mask and break apart like a thin sheet. Beneath the white, his dark eyes leer at you with magnitude.

"If you blow that smoke in my face one more time," he warns you. "I'll show you what I'll do about it."

You chuckle, and immediately take another drag, feeling his eyes watch you finish off the end of your cigarette in a single inhale. You always love when men try and tell you what you can and can't do, as if you'll actually listen to them. Helps you weed out the men who are really about it.

And you were seconds away from learning just how "about it" Ghost was.

You turn your head to him slyly, a bratty smile perking on your lips, and then, you pucker up your lips and blow, watching the smoke bubble over him and the course of your night change forever.

Ghost pushes himself off from leaning on his car, before flicking his cigarette to the side and taking two large steps in your direction. Before you knew it, this hulking, shadowy mass of man was standing right in front of you, ticked off, and still very much riled up about earlier.

He takes the cigarette from your hand and flicks it to the side, making you scoff.

"I wasn't finished with that yet." You move to shove him, only Ghost's large hands have already taken hold of both your wrists.

He takes your arms and brings them above your head, until you've felt the cold steel of the car against your bare arms, Ghost pinning your arms with a single hand to your wrist.

For the first time in years, you address him by a name other than 'Manchester', as you instead gasp out, "Ghost?" somewhere within the exchange. Hearing it damn near brings chills down his spine, knowing now what upper hand he's now gotten over you.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you," he says, his voice so low and gravelly you almost forget yourself. "Always pushin' limits you'd best leave alone." Ghost tells you commandingly, "Listen the first time."

Now, being a Task Force member yourself, you were in better shape than the average woman. Some regular Joe ever grabs you like this and they'd be down on the ground in less than 10 seconds. Ghost was not some regular Joe. His one hand alone could hold both your wrist comfortably. He squeezes tightly when you struggle and pull.

If Ghost wanted to, he could kill you right here, and you both knew that.

So you stop trying to resist him, your expression growing coy. This is a power play, a game of dominance now. You've been playing for years, and you've had the lead. You weren't about to give him that now.

You lick your lips, smiling as you see his eyes dip down to take a quick look. You then lean your head forward somewhat, looking up at the lieutenant daringly, as you see the fire burning in his rageful eyes.

"Make me."

In a flash, Ghost uses his other hand to open the car door behind you, before practically throwing you onto the backseat. His car was rather spacious, all things considered, having just enough wiggle room to move around without having to awkwardly crane yourself. Or it was like that for you at least.

The second Ghost enters the vehicle after you, the space couldn't feel any smaller. You hear the car door click shut behind you and the interior lights shut. Shut off from the outside world. Away from the club, parked somewhere far off a ways in the dead of night. The only reality that existed before you now was whatever ideas Ghost had buzzing in his twisted mind.

Ghost hovers over you on the backseat, his arms boxing you in as he just takes his time to really look at you.

"If you wanna act like a slag, then I'll treat you like the slag you are."

Ghost starts to unbuckle his jeans, and immediately you know where this is going. You bite your lip with anticipation, having spent years wondering what he was slinging. Seeing that excited glint in your eyes only makes him harder, ready to give you what you've always fantasized about, deep down.

He unsheathes himself from his jeans, your eyes pausing on the sheer largeness of his cock. He could barely fit it in his hand, it was so big, its girth already looking a slight size too big for you. You almost make an awestruck comment.

"On your knees," he beckons. "Now."

As brats do, you ignore his order, continuing to sit back and await a pleasurable punishment. And punish he does.

Ghost gives you about three seconds before he's reached over and taken a handful of your hair, pulling you up from the seat and roughly forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"Now," Ghost uses your hair to crane your neck back, that way so you could look at him. Your doe-like eyes flutter with lustful yearning, merely waiting to taste him, your lips already wet from licking them. He could just lean down and kiss you, your mouth never looked so inviting. It brings a short pause, before he could deny you no longer. "How 'bout you put that bratty little mouth of yours to some good use, princess."

Before you can make a remark, Ghost takes your opening mouth and brings himself to your lips, before pretruding inside. Your warm lips wrap around him, your hands resting on the sides of his thighs to have a better grip, as you go to town.

He barely had to guide you to start, your head bobbing back and forth as you sucked his cock like a popsicle, letting your tongue blanket around him each time he's let out a gruff moan of appraisal and driven himself deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes looked up at him, watching him cock his head back pleasurably when you've gagged, your saliva coating his cock with sweet lubricant. His grip on your hair tightens, his hips thrusting deeper until he's felt the back of your throat, taking the oxygen from you at each thrust.

His pumping grew more relentless, as did his tight grip on your hair. Your light gags and delicate fingers digging into his sides did little to slow his movements, merely serenading this animal-like lust you've brought out of him. And you didn't want him to stop, either. This aggression excites you. There hadn't been a man able to meet such highs as this.

Ghost could go all night like this, having you choking on his cock after driving him to his wits end for so long. He's dreamed of nights like this. Of finally shutting you up. And those dreams didn't stop here.

Ghost pulls you away from him, throwing you onto your back. You gasp out, still trying to catch your breath. "Finished so soon?" You tease.

"I'm just gettin' started."

He pries your legs open, pushing your dress up and revealing the black little thong you had on underneath your fishnet stocking. His fingers, which dig roughly into your thigh, only make the arousal you felt in your core erupt more.

"Is it my turn?" You ask cutely.

"Not sure you deserve it," he teases.

You pout now. "Wasn't that just the best head you had a second ago-"

Ghost interrupts you by smacking your ass roughly, the sheer force making your thigh ripple and the sound bounce within the entire vehicle, as the sting of his touch lingers. You moan lightly.

"Say please," he tells you.

"Or what?"

Ghost answers your childish question with another smack to your ass. You see the rules now. Laughing to yourself, you cross your arms and smile at the lieutenant. It's been a long time since you've had a good spanking.

His hand has made a print on both your ass cheeks by the time you've caved, feeling as the moans you released and the tears that pooled in your eyes fuel each smack he brought down. The more stubborn you were now, the more he intended to make up for it later.

He smacks your ass another time, your skin a new shade of dark pink. A moan leaves your lips and you finally whimper out, "...Please."

In a flash the man takes your fishnet stockings and tears them open, until its discarded remnants have fallen to the floor, soon joined by your panties. Your cunt is bare open to him, already dripping onto his seats like a fresh beverage.

Ghost dives down to your pussy as though he'd been starved of it his whole life, letting his mouth engulf your clit. You feel his tongue massage over the sensitive bud, his hot breath complimenting his sucking and flicking that was at such a fast pace it'd grown overwhelming.

The moans you cry out you can't even help, your body wanting to wiggle and writhe to the stimulation. However, Ghost keeps you pinned down, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly that it could leave bruises.

His tongue work is savage and relentless and perfect, his tongue dipping down from your clit and to your core, where he laps up every bit that cries out of you.

"Ghost," you pant out. "I'm gonna-"

He pulls himself away, leaving your cunt throbbing for relief. Your eyes look up to him, nearly in tears that he's stopped. Now that his mask was up, however, you see the cocky smile painted on his lips.

"Beg."

Deep in your stubborn heart, you wanted to not beg. Make him work for it like you've been making him work since you met him. But frankly, your cunt hurt, you needed him bad.

"I need you," you beg. "I want you so fucking bad right now."

"Say my name."

Now you knew he was on a power trip. And damn right he was, because he always knew he'd have you at his mercy like this if this were to happen. He couldn't wait for this.

His name's not Manchester. He figures it's about time you knew that.

You swallow your pride, and say quietly, "Simon."

"I want to hear you say it when I fuck you."

"Then fuck me already, Simon."

With little warning, Ghost takes hold of you and flips you around onto your stomach. Instinctively, you get on your knees and prop your ass up in the low doggy position, looking around for what immediate things you could hold on to as you listened to Ghost bring down his pants.

You feel him bring his cock to you, the heat of your pussy bouncing off your skin and making the man's member tremble with precum. He lets it rub against you, letting your juices make a mess over his tip and your knees shake, waiting.

"Ugh," you whine. "Give it to me already-"

Ghost shoots himself roughly into you, the base of his cock slapping hard against your pussy and immediately hitting your sweet spot. The sheer length and girth of it on its way in is so large and prominent you've felt the sensation of it travel from the pit of your gut to your lungs. It's immediately followed by another hard thrust, as they start to come in quick succession soon after.

Ghost pounds you silly, his cock forcibly stretching the walls of your cunt until he's shaped himself inside you, the smacking of his base to your pussy beating in the car like a drum. To keep your back arched he's grabbed your hair again, keeping your head cocked back so that his other hand can stay wrapped around your throat, squeezing each time he's felt your pussy tighten over him.

You were drooling he fucked you so hard, tears running down your face and moans feeling like gurgle chaos spilling out your mouth each time he squeezed another orgasm out of you. You had Ghost just as riled too.

The man pumped into you as though he had just been enlightened, low growls and heavy breaths spilling from his lips like you've never heard before. When his hands weren't busy choking you or smacking your ass, they were exploring you, massaging your breast and gripping your sides to pound even harder, as if he could go any deeper, his chest pressing into your back just wanting to stay in you.

The moans all but hiccup out of you now, your tongue laced with his name as you cry it out for him to hear, each time you've felt him pulsate back inside you.

"That's it, love," he all but whispers into your ear, teeth searing faintly into the soft cartilage. "You can take it."

Ghost grits his teeth now, holding in shaky grunts as you feel his cock throb in you. You knew what was coming at this point, no pun intended.

You moan, "Give me everything you've got, Simon."

The blend of emotions between the arousal he felt below and the sweetness of your tone erupt the man past his point. You feel his body shake on top of you, the veins of his cock throbbing, as he pumped your pussy full of himself, watching it drip from you after he's pulled out.

You both sit in his car, hot and out of breath, now unsure of the time or what you planned on doing after. As you watch Ghost clean himself up and bring his mask back down, not having said a word to you since that brief escapade, you sit in his backseat thinking.

He pulls out another cigarette and seats himself beside you with a heavy sigh, before passing you a smoke for yourself. After that performance, you both could use one. You lean over and let him light the end, before taking a long-needed drag and blowing it out the window. You watch him do the same.

"Hey Manchester," you say. You see Ghost roll his eyes and sigh at the nickname, however, it's not as cold as it once was before. "Maybe I shoulda been callin' you Big Ben instead, yeah?"

Ghost groans, "Please, don't."

Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoy! I honestly really do enjoying posting and interacting with all of you. I've always been so awkward (still am), but this has really been fun. So, Thank you for engaging with my stuff, it really means a lot.

ヾ(*´ ∇ `) Part Three

Taglist (thought you might be interested ʅ(́ ◡◝)ʃ): @cabreezer0117 @13thprogenitor @deadbranch

[helluvapurf]

*deep breathes* Sooo, those last couple mins from the latest "Full Moon" ep... lets talk about that🍵🍵

Welp, here it is folks... the ep that finally gave us that hyped up "Asmodeon crystal" exchange teased at in the S2 Pt. 2 trailer. And... hooooo boi, I have formed so. many. thoughts. upon rewatching that scene a few times. Some that are... kiiiinda on the rant-y spectrum the more I lingered on 'em, so how bout I share them here lmao

Fair warning in advance, this maaaaay not be particularly "nice" to Stolas in these rambling thoughts, so if anyone out there's a big Stolas(+itz) fan... yall might wanna skip reading ahead- lol .w.;;

*claps*

Okay, so to start things off on a (semi?) positive note, the animation & lighting here is quite beautiful to look at. The glittery curtains, the shine in Blitz's eyes throughout his shifting emotions, even the shots of that one broken chandelier (which I thiiink might've been the same one him & Stolas played under as kids?) was a neat bit of symbolism ngl.

Props to Brandon Rogers as well for his voice-performance on Blitz here cause... gawd did it hit me in the heart how much hurt you feel from his yelling ;-;💔

Curious to see more of the use of Blitz's new Asmodeon crystal in future adventures (esp from that one shot in the trailer w/ him using the portal effects against the DHORK crew), it looks cool~ ✨👍

....ummmm, ok I think that about covers my positives atm. Onto the problems I have with this exchange:

Stolas... okay, you were this close to actually doing a good job ending the Full Moon deal. Admitting to how "wrong" the transaction part of their dynamic was, allowing Blitz more "freedom" via-the crystal (that could also help avoid any legal issues that the Grimoire gave), even wishing him good luck with his I.M.P. business as the night drew to a close... ...buuuuut then Stolas just had to muddle everything up by his whole "even tho you don't have to be with me, I want you with me if you want it~🥺" ...which honestly came off selfish to me than anything else?? Like, dude... if you really ARE regretful of how long you let this deal go for, and truly DO want to let Blitz go... you CAN'T throw in such sappy, lovey-dovey words on top of that?? Otherwise, how can one blame Blitz for getting as confused & flustered as he was throughout that convo... you've basically just sent even more mixed-messages in the grand scheme of things, my dude-🤦‍♀️

"I have wanted you for SO long, the fact that you couldn't believe that I might have these feelings about you, that your first instinct is that its always about sex..." ...Ummmmm Stolas... did you seriously forget HOW this whole deal of yall's started?? 🤨 Waaaay back in the initial-series pilot, to the first official ep, and pretty much the majority of Season 1:

As far as I checked, Blitz wasn't the one who kept making everything about sex... that. was all. YOU. 😒Heck, literally one of the first things you told Blitz upon reuniting as adults in "The Circus", was that you expected he wanted to "ravish" you-

-so like, get outta here with the whole pushing-the-perv-responsibility-bs onto Blitz... you ain't helping your case >>

Finally... like, it was already getting bad enough by the point of Blitz begging & pleading out of fear he'd lose his livelihood without the book, AND not being allowed space to breathe after getting further pushed away (and thus, more pissed off-)... but THEN on top of all this, Stolas just haaaaad to throw in this lil gem: "Blitz... I think so very highly of you. I didn't realize you think so low of me..." ...Stolas, with all due respect... stfu with that lousy, last-minute uwu-ing self-pity party crap😑Just because you TRIED to show more attentive care & concern post-"Ozzie's", outside of the typical bedroom stuff... that ain't gonna prove shit if you're not gonna be consistent with it. Where was that "high opinion" of Blitz during the two of you getting stuck in the sitcom set during "Seeing Stars", when Blitz was having that panic attack performing live, where all you ended up doing was... just hitting on him/praising his bedroom skills again?? 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Like... couldn't you have just, I dunno... TRY to actually cheer him up/comfort him like an actual friend, would? Encourage him on his jokes, "just be yourself", promising another way out of there on his own merit... literally, anything could've worked fine and it wouldn't have come off so skeezy imho >>;;

...*sighs* so, yeah... thats basically what I had to get off my chest regarding the ending of "Full Moon". Honestly, had the writers actually committed to Stolas cutting off Blitz (even if harsh), giving the crystal with no strings, then going about their separate ways afterwards, I would've been totally fine with the scene tbh. But all this... odd lowkey-blaming of Blitz thrown in, the sappy words, and Stolas not once actually-apologizing during all this (Like, literally I checked and the only utterance of "sorry" seemed to come from Blitz's end before he got kicked out... for what, I dunno- 🤷‍♀️). Sorry for the length btw, but hopefully that about covers my thoughts on the matter-

[ciozio]

i wanted to say that I really love your happy au and I was wondering, how do Stupid Rotten Adults or Who Was Phone go in your happy au?

Thank you!!!!! <3 I'm glad so many people like my au!! Awghhh!!!!

As for those two in particular, I'm still figuring em out !! :)

Especially Stupid Rotten Adults...

Tho I might write about the Change God meeting sooner or later actually! It's been on my mind

So keep a look out on my Happiness AU AO3 fics :)

If I ever write one, it'll be there! I'm more likely to write a fanfic on the achievement quests than make a comic

But since u mentioned Change God here's a lil comic I drew related to beliefs a while ago

Maybe it'll give u a guess on how his interaction with Change God will be

Forgetful amnesia dummy!!!!!! Stop questioning things!!! Sprays him with waterbottle!!!!!!!

[xxcherrydevilxx]

“For Her” 1/3 

— Karlach x Fem!reader

— Warning: Angst, so much angst, some spoilers? Idk not really but just in case

— Summary: You would do anything for your beloved Karlach not to die from her infernal engine. She deserved the world, to be free, and gods you would give it to her. Selling your soul to a devil in exchange for her is nothing, you would do it every time for her, always for her. — Author's Note: This was supposed to be a one-shot, I have decided while writing that there is no way in hell that I could do all I want to do in one story. I am splitting it up into three parts! This is the first, the second being fluffy smut, and the third is the crescendo with you getting taken to the hells! I don’t know when those other two will be out, it could take a few weeks or more to get em just right! But fear not, they will happen.

— Word Count: 2.7k 

The blood from Grotash’s corpse soaked into your robes, the sticky confirmation of the man’s death gave you a somber sense of accomplishment. However, for Karlach, it seemed only to ignite more rage and fear in her. Her ragged breathing drew you out of your dead stare at the mutilated body at your feet. 

“My love?” you hesitantly called, noting the lashing of her tail and your companions moving a step back. You had never seen her so… angry before. 

“So Gortash is nothing more than a pile of flesh?” she asked no one in particular. The toe of her boot kicked his head, as if willing for him to get back up, to make this mean something more.

You moved to lay a hand on her shoulder, to offer her some form of consolement, but she lurched from your grasp. The fire underneath her skin began to light and cast cruel shadows across her face, the temperature rising a degree.

“There's nothing, is there? I killed the bastard who ruined my life, and now my prize is to crawl into a corner and die.” her breathing hitched and the engine inside her flared with power as she let out a loud cry, her hands balling into fists. 

“Am I fucking missing something?” she called, her lips pulling into a snarl to bare her fangs at you. 

You. 

Your heart, the warmth to your cold, the being who smiled at you with such adoration. The one you would do anything for, the one who was dealt a cruel fate. 

“-I'm dying, I’m going to die,” her voice echoed off the palace walls. The flames curled and licked up her form, growing more intense as the seconds passed with tense stillness from everyone but Karlach.

“It’s- you won't, I refuse to allow it,” You immediately answered. Your voice caught and broke as you watched her feral eyes turn to you. The anger, the pain...

The eyes you stared into when you desired her compassion and love. 

All of that was gone now, she was fully engrossed in her rage and suffering, and you couldn’t hate her for it. 

“You can deny it all you want, soldier, but I'm dying, and you get to live.” Her lips turned up into a cruel smile, “And you- you get to watch the stars, warming your hands on the fire, dancing, eating, making fucking love- all of it, all of it,” she threw her hands up as if in defeat. The fire roared and her screams of anguish echoed off the walls. You gave her a helpless look, what could you do? What can you do to save her- to give her more time? Gods anything and you would do it, anything-

A deal. Karlach had finished her long, well deserved, tirade and told you that you could find her in camp later, once she had time to process. Your companions gave the both of you pitiful sad looks, some clasping their hand on your back as if a sign of moral support.

Your throat felt dry and scratchy, your eyes hot as if tears were about to overspill them. Your hands, still sticky with blood, clutched and let go of your robes as your mind worked frantically. Wyll was still by your side, waiting for you to speak, to ask for anything. That was always like him, caring for you and Karlach. 

Your voice sounded pathetic in your ears. “Can you- can you keep an eye on her for me, I have to… I just-” You cut yourself off, taking in a ragged breath as you felt the tears slip down your face that must have been covered in gore. 

“Of course, anything for you,” Wyll responded softly. Rubbing his calloused hand across your back. You felt more tears roll down your face and a guttural sound slip past your lips. It sounded so broken, you half thought it couldn’t have been your voice making such a sound. But when you felt Wyll pull you into a hug, a tight desperate hug, the sound which could only be described as heartbreak incarnate wretched itself from you yet again. You clung to Wyll, wailing like that until you could no longer produce tears, your fingers digging into his armor as if you could ground yourself with just action. 

You didn’t tell Wyll where you were going, you knew he and the rest of your party would try to stop you... But they couldn’t stop you from doing this. No god, tadpole, or what-have-you could stop your feet from moving towards the only cure for your beloved you knew of. If she knew what you would do for her, the lengths you were willing to go to for her, she would yell at your idiocy, say it wasn’t worth it. To you she was all you had, were you not supposed to try everything in your power to save her? If only for her to live longer, even if it meant without you.

The door that you stood in front of seemed to whisper your deepest desires. Was it because you were at Sharess' Caress? Or because a devil who probably knew of your arrival was waiting ever so patiently for you to knock. 

You rubbed your arm over your face, trying in a desperate attempt to seem more presentable. However, with the blood you tracked up the stairs and your puffy red eyes, all it did was further make you look desperate. Just what Raphael was hoping for. 

You brought your hand up to knock, the door opening after one tentative hit on the oak wood. He waited there, a devilish smile as he leaned languidly on the door.

“Well, pet, this is a welcome surprise.” he purred, opening the door more to allow you inside. The luxury of the room still astounds you, the plush bedding, and the intricate rugs that soften your step. 

“I see you are in dire need of counsel.” His eyes watched, and a brow quirked as he saw no one else follow you inside. “And you've come alone, my pet.” he smiled, flicking a wrist and making the door shut snugly behind you. 

You stood in the middle of the extravagant room numbly, the blood on your shoes soaking the carpet. You watched the blood expand across the floors as prayers flashed through your mind, gods knew this was the only way, and yet… 

“Even without that fiery tiefling of Zariel’s… How interesting,” He hummed, his voice almost beckoning you to spill your desires. You found your eyes looking at him, he had found himself a plush chair to lounge in while he waited for you to do what he had been wishing for. His long nails tapped on the arm of the chair, a knowing look in his eyes. The mention of Karlach made your heart constrict. 

“Tell me, small pup, what you need to ask of me without your companion's knowledge..”

You bit the inside of your mouth, your eyes skirting away from the man who sat in front of you like a king waiting for a peasant to speak, to beg. 

“I think you know,” Your voice, rough from sobbing, still held traces of venom. A click of the tongue from Raphael made you hunch your shoulders. 

“I am here to make a deal, my soul- whatever you desire- for Karlach’s freedom,” you willed your stern glare to find its way back up to Raphael. He stared at you with a knowing gaze, the hint of a smirk curling his lips. His eyes found their way to his nails, examining them as if bored. 

“Ah, love, how precious,” He cooed mockingly, his nails reflecting their sharp edge in the light. “Kneel,” he ordered, one long claw-like nail pointing to the ground for you to follow suit. Your knees buckled and you hit the blood-stained rugs, half aware of the small tendrils of pain shooting up your knees, you would have bruises come next sunrise.

If you saw the next sunrise.

But, if all things go well, Karlach would. She would see the next sunrise and the next for years to come. Warming herself in the rays. Safe, from Zariel… from her infernal engine… never alone again. If this is what it takes, kneeling in front of a devil and selling your soul to him, you would. You would do it a thousand times over. 

“Zariel wouldn’t be happy with me, you know, I would be taking away her prized fighting dog.” Raphael talked, his tone dripping with the same condescending attitude you would expect of him. You had to press your palms into the ground to steady yourself. You wished you could jump him, dig your nails into his eyes, and hear the pop, to bite his neck out. Using you this way, using your love this way. But you were too tired, so tired…

So, so tired.

You wanted to sink into a bed, soft and filled with feathers. To hear the hum of your beloved, happy and content and safe, gods you wanted her to be safe. To be cherished, if not by you then someone else… But who were you fooling anyway? you didn’t deserve her… Not for a second. She was good, kind, beautiful - despite her years in literal hell. The only good thing to come from this cursed tadpole and doomed savior mission was meeting her, rescuing her, and getting to love her for all you were worth.

So you painted a smile on your face, your eyes as big as moons as you looked up at Raphael with what you expected would make him stutter in his condescension. There, you saw it, a flicker across his eyes, the stilling of the tapping. 

“Why would Zariel mind if you brought her the crown?” You asked, a coyness edging itself into your voice. A lie, ruse, whatever you would call it. Yet Raphael didn’t know that if you played this right, and you would, gods you would. 

A darkness shuddered past his eyes, and with it the candlelight flickered all around you, causing you to flinch. 

“The crown is mine,” He hissed. Standing from his chair and stalking over to you, looking down at you with disdain. Your eyes widened, this time not in pleading but in panic. You brought up your hands, swaying on your knees as you bowed your head. 

“Of course, I was foolish. my soul then?” you begged, cowering. He let out a sharp laugh pressing the toe of his boot underneath your chin, bringing your face harshly up to look at him where he stood above you.

“Not enough, pet, try again,” he commanded, his eyes boring into yours. You swore you could see the licks of flames in them, the hells itself reflecting. Perhaps even all the souls he stole before, screaming at you to flee. 

But you couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. 

“Use me as a dog, and I will do your bidding, bring you the crown, Zariel couldn’t lay a finger on you then,” you babbled, your voice high-pitched and wobbly. Were you losing in this battle of wits? How could you gain the upper hand? His foot had left your chin and was now digging itself into your upper thigh, making you hiss in pain as you looked down. Not a soul, not a crown…

“Gift me to her once I slay the absolute, a better fighter to trade,” You blurted, and the pain from his heel digging into you let up, ever so slightly. 

“Think of it, she wouldn’t need Karlach if she had me,” you continued, sweat dripping down the side of your face. An idea flashed through your mind, so sick it wanted to make you gag. Horrible. Something you would regret ever speaking aloud. 

Yet, if it promised her freedom…

“Gift her lover to Zariel, think of the everlasting pain it would put onto her, her cost of freedom being her first love at the mercy of Zariel,” It felt like bile on your tongue. The only saving grace was that you hoped she would find another, forget your love, and be happy again. Nevertheless, you hated the words that spewed from your mouth. You hated more the look of delight that washed over Raphael as he sauntered away from you to sit back down. 

“Promising, very promising, my little pup,” you hung your head in shame, your vision cloudy as you pressed your hands hard into the floor to stop yourself from falling over in defeat. 

Gods, what have you done? 

“A deal, my pet, sign here.” fiery paper appeared in front of you, a quill dipped in blood-red ink- you hoped- alongside it. You shuddered, shaking your head ever so slightly. 

“Do you not have to converse with Zariel?” you whimpered. Wishing to stall for time, if only to have a few more seconds of freedom. You wanted to run back to your camp, your home. To cling to Karlach, to cover her in kisses, thread your fingers through her hair, touch every bit of her. Sear it into your memory. 

“Ah, no, I think this will suffice her…” he paused, licking his lips as he gave you another devilish smile “Only, and only if you do kill the absolute, the contract will then be activated. Her engine fixed, you whisked away to the hells.” he ran a hand through his hair, you could tell he felt smug about his idea, which was just your idea with extra padding. 

But this gave you time, sweet precious time with Karlach. Before your lives were both broken by your decision… yet, the benefits far outweighed the cons. With a cringe, as you picked up the quill, you signed the dotted line. Your soul and body now belonged to Raphael, you just hoped you could keep your promise.

“Wonderful little mouse!” he clapped, whisking the contract through the air to bring it to him. He licked his lips as if this was the most tasty meal he had ever devoured, and you wanted to rip the contract to shreds, quick and fast. 

“You can run along to your sweet if you would like,” he continued, bored of you already. He snapped his fingers and the contract and quill both disappeared. You were free to go now, yet as you left the far too beautiful devil’s den you swore you felt two axes hover over your neck. One, the ability to actually do the deal you signed on for… if you couldn’t make good on your promise, what then? There had to be loopholes, the contract wouldn’t be voided, and he would never allow that.

And the second, far more scarier, was if you made good on the promise. You could already feel the swift breeze of the proverbial ax as it loomed overhead. You ran a hand along your neck, feeling the sweat and grime build up. Your body was so tired, your mind had been pushed to its limit during the tense negotiation with Raphael, having to use every advantage you could think of. Now, you were signed off to one of the most notorious demons that lurked in the hell…

 Zariel. 

You shook slightly as you continued to stumble back to camp, holding yourself up by leaning into walls when you could. You felt sick, every part of you ached and you had hot flashes and chills a-plenty as you stumbled into camp. You wanted to curl up and wait for your freedom to slip. 

“Ah, soldier, where have you- gods are you alright?” her voice…it sounded like church bells, a lover calling you inside, a harp being played in the heavens. Her arms encircled you, worry etching itself across her face the longer she gazes down at you. She smelt of brimstone, sweat, and a hint of sweetness.

She smelt like home.

Her arms, her lips, her beautiful eyes. Gods, you never would stare into those eyes again. You would never feel her strong assured arms- 

“H-hey Karlach!” you let out a startled gasp. She had lifted you up, princess style, to carry your tired frame to her tent. 

“Let me take care of you for tonight, you look like you've seen the hells,” she mumbled into your ear, brushing her lips across your temple before dipping the both of you into her closed-off tent. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell her, you would see the hells soon enough. Because you traded yourself for her, groveled at the feet of a devil. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lovingly-dedicated]

Hey, gang!

There's just three weeks until Marxolor Week '24! A celebration of our favorite trickster duo in whatever form you love them best!

Have you seen our [Prompt] list? (You can find [Rules] here!)

Have you read it but you're still struggling to come up with something? If so, then read below as I go over the prompts and throw some ideas out to help stoke the fires of your imagination!!

Day 1: "Conflict" or "Meeting." 

We love 'em because they've got so much in common, but these two can't be in perfect sync all the time. For those times when they aren't, there's "Conflict." (Or maybe, it's someone else they're in conflict with? Do these two make a good team in a fight?)

"Meeting" could be anything from how they met the first time to the duo meeting up to plan for their next scheme! Or maybe, they're meeting up for something more private and personal...? /SFW

Day 2: "Curiosity" or "Mirrored"

What was it that initially drew the two of them to each other? What catches their interest? Have they learned something new about themselves? Or their world? ...Maybe the reason why they stick together is the "Curiosity" to everyone around them!

With all those similarities, Marx and Magolor's stories are mirror images in many ways. Even their bodies feel like they're "Mirrored" Or you could use this prompt to jump into the Mirror World and see how they are there, or how they'd react to meeting each other! (Or even draw them making silly faces at a funhouse mirror!)

Day 3: "Cunning" or "Magic"

Marx and Magolor each specialize in their own brand of "Cunning." Outright lies for Magolor; deceptive withholding of the truth for Marx. Will they use these against each other...or team up? Cunning can be about deceptively innocent and cute looks too. Perhaps you'll want to explore these borb-shaped wolves in sheep's clothing?

A wizard and a magician! You could use them to talk about "Magic" theory. Or explore what each one can do that the other can't? (Are they jealous?) Or...is it like magic when they look into each other's eyes? Maybe Magolor helps Marx with a magic show?

Day 4: "Clockwork" or "Majesty"

There's that darn clockwork star again! Has Marx told Magolor the story of Galactic Nova? What if he takes him there on a trip? Has wishing on a Nova affected Marx in a way Magolor can tell? ...Or maybe, something in their daily routine happens like "Clockwork."

"Majesty" brings to mind kings and their crowns and Magolor surely has something to say about that messy business! Does Marx have something to say too? Speaking of Marx, if Magolor was going to be a king, you can't forget the existence of the court's jester!

Day 5: "Control" and "Mischief"

The song is no longer known as "Under My Control" but this word's relevant! Do they have full "Control" over their powers? Can they control their feelings for each other? Can Magolor control his evil laughter? Can Marx control himself in general? (They could be holding a pair of game controllers or fighting for a remote control!)

Let's face it! When do these two NOT get up to "Mischief"? Now, do they have different views on what's fair play in the prank game? Maybe you'll want to explore what their best victory against their chosen target was? ...What was their most humiliating defeat?

Day 6: "Chaos" and "Melancholy"

"Chaos" is a step up from mischief and tends to cause more problems for everyone involved; it has greater lasting effects too... Has their bond ever brought TOO much chaos? ...Or maybe Magolor lets Marx stay on the Lor and it turns into complete chaos?

Both have suffered game-ending defeats and with those come deep scars. What are they like when "Melancholy" strikes? Maybe their relationship has taken a melancholic turn? Could they be going through a rough patch or realizing for the first time there might be more to their relationship and don't want things to change?

Day 7: "Comfort" or "Merry"

When are they most comfortable together? Do the two have a favorite comfort spot to go to? Do they maybe hug (or punch!) a plushie of each other when in a bad mood? Maybe one has a surefire recipe to "Comfort" the other in sad times?

The major key compliment to comfort's minor key is "Merry!" What gets them laughing so hard they can't stop? What's a favorite event or landmark in their life they'll never forget? Or you could throw Marx into Merry Magoland with Magolor and see what happens!

[random-gamer1942]

This morning I randomly remembered my first ever fanfic thingy that I made a few months ago, an sbg wild west au. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I got some sudden inspiration, so I'm reposting it here and continuing it

Trainwreck Graveyard

(1/7) The train that was

The sun sat high in the sky, broiling the dry land below. Standing on this scorched earth was a silent figure. Twin flame-colored braids going down until her waist, just barely resting on the twin six-shooters holstered to her belt - like sticks of dynamite ready to blow after the wick's flames caught up to them. It'd be hard to tell just what she might do with those things if it wasn't for the star-shaped golden badge on her uniform

Though many others awaited the locomotive, none dared approuch her. Few ever did, and of those few, even fewer didn't end up regretting it. If her cold gaze didn't scare them away, the cold steel of a barrel between their eyebrows would. Sure, some would call it harsh, but if it scares away outlaws that's simply what must be done

Choo chooo, the approuching train broke the quiet atmosphere that usually seemed to follow her. As it came to a halt and it's doors opened, the crowd started pouring into the different cabins, with many taking the spots they had grown accustomed to

But when the woman with hair red as the morning sun found her usually mostly empty cabin, two strange faces sat there, almost waiting for her

One was a large man with dark hair, who attempted to avoid eye contact. The other however, adorned with hair light as the sands of the desert, looked straight at the figure approuching him. And when met with her cold gaze, he returned a warm smile

They're clearly travelers, she thought to herself. She decided to just sit down and hope that they wouldn't start a conversation. I mean, they surely wouldn't be foolish enough to-

"Howdy there Miss, pleased to meet ya. The name's Aiden, and this here's my cousin Benjamin. He don't speak much, but don't mind 'em. Say, what might I call you?"

He didn't seem like a bad guy per se, but that smile of his unsettled her

"Ashlyn, sheriff 'round these parts. I'd prefer if you didn't-"

"Sheriff? That could be interestin', oh I bet ya. Doncha think so, Ben?"

"..."

"Well, could be excitin', right? Wild chases, held at gunpoint. Might even get arrested!"

How casually he said these things, with that same smile on his face, were concerning. She had to get him to settle down before he did anything he'd regret

"You. I don't take kindly to strangers taking my seat, starting all sorts of chatter, 'n speaking over me. I suggest stayin' silent for the rest of the ride, if you value getting to see another mornin'."

"Ooh, curious indeed. Well, how're ya gon' make me?" He squinted his eyes and smiles just a bit more

"Well, lemme put it like this...", she drew the pistol out of her right holster, letting it spin around her finger once before placing the barrel in front of his forehead, "...whether you shut that trap of yours or not, you'll end up silent somehow."

He leaned forward slightly, his forehead now touching the suprisingly cool metal of the revolver. "Oh, will I now? In that case, please show me Miss, cuz I clearly ain't picking up what yer puttin' down."

She flinched when he moved closer. She'd seen many cowardly back off, and some stubbornly stand their ground, but get closer? Did he have a death wish or something? It didn't make any se-

BOOM

A loud explosion rang through the cart. The sheriff dropped her gun and clutched her ears, barely able to stand upright

"Oh, seems like our cue to go", the man said, with his red eyes glinting in the midday sun. "I did truly enjoy our little chat, sheriff. Hopefully I'll cya soon!"

He grabbed his cousin by the wrist and dashed to the back of the cart, which now had a giant hole in it.

The sheriff grasped for her other shooter, but by the time she was looking past the barrel, they had already jumped onto a set of horses and rode off

And it was then that our sheriff realized her quiet life just might get a bit more interesting...

(2/7) Ready to go

[s1llydr3amscape]

Happy 10th anniversary fnaf wahhh <333333 I can't believe I've been drawing for this accursed franchise for a decade goddamn!!!

I'm gonna be all sappy but ohhhh this franchise is my blood and soul and I love and breathe cuz off it <333333

To start this national holiday for me atleast I wanted to show off my plethora of old fnaf art I made over the years so be warned!!!! Not in order which is something I regret for not putting dates on my stuff.

Very long and I mean it :

Starting off fnaf x mlp 😭😭😭 I loved mlp and then I saw so much of those fnaf mlp speed paints and had an epiphany and made my own because I hated how everyone made them bald </3

Now for the apple of my eye back in the day.... Foxy!!!! I loved him so much it made me violent. My self insert was this brown cat with blue eyes and yellow and blue hair. She was also half bat and had bat wings!!!! She and Foxy were my everything and I drew them so much that Foxy was the fnaf character I had the most art off (then came vanny...) Since I was a Foxy fangirl I got jealous seeing ppl shipping him with Mangle because I loved Fnaf 1 Foxy so much but ppl kept shipping him with Mangle and not Fnaf 2 Withered Foxy so I ended up hating them 💀 I am not uploading the full comic to this over my dead body, reading it made my skeleton run away. I was so mean to Mangle bro they did not deserve any of that!!!

Whats worse is Foxy wasn't the only person that had feelings for Blueberry. Incoming Springtrap 😭😭😭😭 As a kid I hated him so much and then my irl showed me cute fanart for him one day because she had a crush on him and I was instantly hooked. He ended up becoming the character i fixated on till this day like me and her have been through a lot literally in everything (Springtrap made me question my gender lmao)

What I mean is like she's bigender like me teehee!!! I was obsessed with giving all the fnaf characters hair and god :[ need me a big bald headed rabbit... he's so ugly here I can't 😭😭 Goofy ass Alastor ass smile fake ass wig

I think this one is more recent when I first started highschool. but like Springtrap the gender breaker fr fr!!!! Why is bro goopy well you see I didn't like William Afton because I loved the Bunny way more and so what happened was William somehow got ejected from Springtrap leaving the suit hollow unable to move. Yet it did and Springtrap was born using the blood William left behind she was goopy and always bleeding and limping and he hated being alive and was emo 😭 What gucci bro is butt booty naked!!!!!

IM SORRY MANGLE I LOVE YOU!!! YOU DONT DESERVE ALL THE HATE I GAVE!!! I'm pretty sure the one where their holding Blueberry is traced off a speed paint because that does not look like something I'd draw!!!!! I don't blame her for cutting up Blueberry they deserved to after the shit i put em through 😭😭😭😭

More Foxberry art. OMG they had so much art it was insane!!!! if it weren't for the fact I had to move a bit in one part of my life we'd have seen more off my art of the other fnaf characters but we keep moving foward!!!! I know for a fact one of these is traced!!!! They had so much comics together but I'm not going to torture anyone with reading that slop 😭😭😭 they got married and had 2 kids </333333

I can't take this blue eyed freak seriously!!! I hate and love her so much it's unreal </3 She had her own gang off ocs that was a rival company to Fazbears!!! But the main star off her rival company was actually secretly the love child and was the younger brother of Freddy Fazbear!!!!

And after a furry cat serial killer killed the children and stuffed them in the suits he burned the place down after 5 years?! Making the animatronics run to safety to Fazbears...

Blueberry is just your average Y/N protagonist so dainty and UwU smol bean can do no wrong!!!! She has a sister who was my friends self insert that was just there to be my sister... I still have all their refsheets and my god the others ocs designs feel like I pressed randomised on a gacha game!!!!! Not to mention how I just stole fnaf characters and turned them into cats!?!? One of them was named Spacey The Cat for crying out loud!!!! And I even had an oc named Miss Smile The Cat who I know was just an artist I got inspired by and made an oc off of 💀

What even is that thing freaking maple syrup looking ghost ass this isn't even the worse oc 😭😭😭 say hello to Eely and Steve who I made based off of Mangle because I thought I could make a better Mangle (You can't fix peak) I hate this thing and it shouldn't exist 😭😭😭 Why tf would a candy parlor shop have a fucking eel?!?!?! What even how what?!?!?

OK, so plot for this Foxy x Blueberry story is a real doozy!!! I remembered getting hate by youtubers bigger than me as a kid for self shipping with Foxy because erm actually he's a dead child!!!! Which doesn't make sense because the friends of said youtubers self shipped with Foxy too, and they were older than me (I was 12). Like back then I was just attracted to this red fox pirate I didnt need to get dogpilled by sans fangirls and adults omg cringe culture was so rampant back then!!!! I vowed on that day to never hate on anyone for self shipping no matter what!!!!

Blueberry was also just changed due to this. I hated how I got hate and how people were making smear campaigns with ny ocs by older people!!! So in her story with Foxy at the end of it she dies. Like point blank she dies straight up with her and Foxys kids 😭😭😭😭 And he has to live with the guilt and memories of their love and what he lost. Like what?!?!!?

But to summarise all her comics. Blueberry and friends get killed similarly to how Foxy and his friends did. Get stuffed in suits at this candy palace and forced to play pretend as these animatronics. Until the furry cat killer came back set the place on fire and they fled to Fazbears. Where it was apparently just a huge establishment with all the fnaf animatronics from fnaf 1 to 4. Mangle has crush on Foxy but he doesn't reciprocate because he's sigma alpha and then these new guys show up and Foxy goes awoooga to the new girl!!!!

Like they were literally the bad boy x good girl trope 😭😭😭 But Foxy was just bad at everything and she was just way to nice and refused to kill people!!! Mangle hated Blueberry for getting Foxys attention and hurted her really really badly and ran away. They didn't know why they did that and Springtrap (scroll up) freaking put Mangle in a coma. Cuz in this story he had the ability to freaking control people with souls and used an evil spirit soul to make Mangle hurt Blueberry.

Anyways Springtrap did that souk thing to make Mangle get with Foxy so she can get with Blueberry but it backfired because off bloodlust. Yeah idk literally that's just the explanation bloodlust. So yeah Foxy and Blueberry dated and were silly and Springtrap and or Mangle would capture her and torture either her or Foxy and yeah.

They ended up finally stopping Springtrap by crushing him in a trash compactor and Mangle fell in love with Eely instead 💀 Then Foxy and Blueberry settled down and had kids. Yet it didn't end there as Springtrap ALWAYS COMES BACK (this was pre ffps and was based on the fnaf sl theory that springtrap showed up cuz he was in Circus Baby's nose relfection) And he had enough of losing to Foxy...

If I can't have her then no one can and killed her and her kids with a freaking evil spirit that set their souls free leaving them empty husks unmoving. And they stayed deactivated until the company threw them away for collecting dust and left them in the storage room to rot 4ever. Like wtf 😭😭😭

Ok enough yapping!!! Later on I changed my ways and I love Mangle now so much and Glithctrap showed up. I ended up getting fixated on them too!!! Sorry for TwinkTrap... but he always has that middle stitch in the centre of its head because well the first ever fanart I drew of em had it and I'm a huge sap... I was in a very specific fnaf circle who furryfied the animatronics and you can tell very much!!!!

I have more off these designs but they're soo catered to me and are practically just ocs at this point so idk yet if I'm brave enough to show em!!! The 180 on my Glitchtrap though my god!!!!! That twinktrap design is so silly to me but I'm keeping it as like Glitchtrap’s cool persona that they use to seem more friendly because Idk I like the swirlies in its design <333

Also shout out to Mangle with 3 tails and floppy ears!!!!! My lil bro loves them so so much he gave me the idea love that guy idk how he can stand me yapping abt the franchise. Atleast I know I made it because his friends come to me to ask abt the lore :]

I need to make a part 2 off this post because phew it's getting pretty long and I maxed out the image limit Oops!!!!

[bromcommie]

free verse poem for @catws-anniversary, day 4 | theme: natasha romanoff | prompt: favourite natasha quote, disguise, trust issues

The truth is a matter of circumstance -

this, you know. Or at least this is what you have been taught, your skin made to learn it over and over and over raw repetition, the mother of all knowledge:

The truth is not all things to all people, and you know this because you've seen men make a living of the truth - shaping and moulding it, a convenient tool to build up myths and nations and gods, break down empires, paint history a dull, inconspicuous color with it. (Blood is never red when it dries, but it does leave stains: dark maroon for the loving glide of Soviet slugs through the organs, overripe date for the shadows of American bombs in bright desert sand. You've collected more conflicting shades than any artist.)

The truth is not all things to all people, and you know this because you have been the clay in their hands and you have been the hatchet chopping away and you have been a footnote in the histories, but your name is not in any of the books. (You have never been any of the men pointing the stick.) Does that matter? What difference does that make? None, except for how sometimes you miss the paper trail you were taught not to leave, how you catch yourself missing the belonging inherent in Alianovna no matter how fabricated, catch yourself wanting evidence that you were ever Natalia before you were Natasha before you were Natalie - Nat - - Tasha - - Widow, with your face plastered all over glittering billboards and your Mona Lisa smile like an autopsy cut. There's really nothing the stars and stripes love more than a good, old-fashioned dissection. So go on. Spread 'em, belly up, label maker in hand ready to agonize over a name for each part, make it neat and palatable for public consumption. Murder Natalia Romanova in cold blood so that Natasha Romanoff can walk away with clean hands; drag the body around because, what - can't you take the silent weight? You weren't planning on living in it, were you? This vicious little animal thing, with sunken eyes and deformed feet? (common side effect of strained movement: hallux valgus. Common side effect of being stepped on one too many times: shrinking.) You wanted that to remain your truth? Forget it - it's too much work, anyway, explaining, and you've been wearing the face of English too long and still don't have all the words you need. (The ones in your head don't count. The truth is for handing out to the people out there, not for ruminating on inside the confines of your own brain.) So chop chop. Hack yourself down to a convenient size, an easily describable shape, a prime cut all juicy and tender. Fit it in the soft pink parts of your mouth where it's the least threatening, the most deadly, just another name to play at your ruby lips. (Most people usually miss the knife at their throat if they're looking at your smile. Most people don't know that all other animals only smile as a threat.)

You are not most people, but you'll pretend anyway because this is what you wanted, isn't it, here is what you ran to: something starkly redacted, something more black and white. A kinder guiding hand. A way to wash the blood off your hands with different, simpler blood, except that - Except that you got sloppy, didn't you. You got complacent and forgetful; all of it, the playing nice and playing parts in games that always somehow end logically, storybook and wrapped up in softened movement and all those eyecatching, carefully controlled curves, every Disney executive's wet dream. And all that carving, my God - it made you tired instead of hungry, didn't it, and you forgot. Forgot that there's value in being many things all at once, forgot that you were still holding the knife until you got carried away and drew real blood, let yourself bleed slow along with the familiar face on the other side of the glass of the OR room. You forgot what it's like to lose, is the thing, and so you let the many-eyed, many-headed sweet-tongued cancer grow and spread right under your nose, and you didn't even notice until it was too late.

It's a straight hit to where you live, isn't it. Second bullet with your ego's name on it, fool me once and all that nonsense, but forget about the anger for a second. Let's focus on the bleeding, on the sharp thing lodged in your throat, the aching pain in your shoulder: here is a reminder from your dead and buried. Here are all your ghosts coming back to haunt you in the shape of many deadly little hands, many false little platitudes, the burn of blinding sunlight off of unyielding metal; primal terror that used to be a kindness. Here is what you are, here is what every one of you has in common, the birthplace of the common denominator of all your truths: survival.

You forgot because it really was too much work, anyway, finding the right words to say, I didn't orchestrate the pain of the Department's stick over my spine or the War that burnt down all our apple orchards or the Long Cold One that came right after, I didn't set my finger to the trigger, but: I still pulled it. I still believed in the bullet, the future it was supposed to bring - no more children with concave stomachs, no more shrinking from being stepped on. I believed and wanted to impress and belong and be untouchable, maybe. Make my spine immune to the stick. So it was not me, you see, apologies for the confusion. It was not this me in front of you, except in all the ways that it was, will be, is still. I am my survival, I was that which I had to survive, and I will be that which will make its way out of the dark in the end. (You are not afraid of the dark. Like all children of war, you know that real fear is born of fire.)

There's the truth you know. You've seen its glowing eyes and its snarling snout in the soft golden strands of a girl grown from the foam of the Black Sea but grown hard in the oblivion white of the tundra, in the artillery midnight sun over Volgograd - Stalingrad - Volgograd, you keep forgetting, in the face of a deprived stray with its ribs sticking out in broad daylight, lips pulled back. Your own face in the mirror through fogged glass. Don't you recognize it? Don't you know this thing with too many teeth, hungry and frightened, like the times that birthed it? Don't you rememeber? (Which times? Does it matter? Any, some, all at once. The truth is not beholden to time, and it's not supposed to be.) Smile, krasotka. Don't we get a smile? Let me see that pretty face, baby, come on. Let me see those teeth bared, inspected like a show animal's, let me see if there's any blood on them. Turns out you're still a commodity, just for a different market. So: break yourself all over again, make yourself unmarketable, undesirable, ungovernable. Because the truth is white-hot, sometimes, the truth gets angry, the truth claws its way out under history's shadows and leaves marks of its own.

The truth is not all - The truth is that which -

The truth - well. The truth is just one of many, is that which you've been running from, is a shapeshifting beast, a useful weapon, a sign of the times. What does that make you? What's it matter? It doesn't. But sometimes you look at the blond man with too many obvious bruises and the soft eyes and the string-calloused hands that spell your name all chopped up T-A-S-H-A before they shorten it to a single sign just a fond blur and you don't even mind the boldness of that familiarity, and you think: maybe it should. Maybe it should matter.

You look at another blond man with the invisible bruises and the lonely guarded eyes and the slow but overwhelming trust in the human parts of you, asking the wrong questions that aren't questions and expecting plain answers, and you think: I should know better than to keep falling for this. You could scoop it out, you think. All the soft compromised parts of him, all that big emotion written all over the sky, expansive and wide: too obvious, too exhausting, too American, all that painful picturebook blue.

It's embarrassing, really. Undignified. You could tear it out of him and twist it into any shape you wanted to, and you wouldn't even have to try all that hard. (But you don't. You don't. The part of you that hasn't shut up in 70 or maybe 17 years sees his trust and says leverage, meaning opportunity. The quieter, braver part sees it and says badge of honour, meaning: something to hold onto. Something else to remember.)

So instead you look at the man with the invisible angry hurt and too much trust in all that is supposed to be human and you think: maybe you can stop believing in the bullet long enough to let yourself believe in something else. So run it through one more time, until it sticks like broken bones did, like knives stuck in moving targets, repetitio est mater studiorum - The truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time, and neither are you.

Meaning, go on: Chuck all of your faces onto a funeral pyre, burn them at the altar of something unfamiliar, something you don't yet have a neat name for. Peeled back, cleaned out like this you still have all your hungers, but maybe you've earned the right to them now. Maybe you can get angry and get even and let the most rabid of all your truths out to stretch their legs, let them snap their jaws but to protect rather than to kill; to exist in all of their conflicting shades and still have a place to lay their head at night. Maybe that can be a cornerstone for something - Not permanent, certainly. Not real, either, because that's just another Americanism that snuck into your vocabulary when you weren't paying attention. Honest, maybe. Maybe you can let the vicious little animal that is you believe in a tomorrow that isn't promised by a myth or the legend of a moulded truth, but that you can still eventually, painstakingly slow put your trust in, and trust it not to break. Maybe.

Maybe seems like enough, for a first second third fresh start.

[carnivorousyandeere]

Every oc with big tits legally need to have their nipples pierced, if they're scared they can hold my hand and I'll pierce it for them 😈

HELLO??? 😂😭😭😭

As a nip piercing enthusiast I love you for this lmfao /p

I like titties big or small, but for you, here is a list of all my current big titty OCs (including big boobs and big pecs/combo of the two), and whether or not they’ve got em pierced already or would get them pierced.

Brucie: no, but you might be able to convince him… the chance of it is slim though

Marcus: not yet, but might go for one nipple piercing for his own aesthetic reasons

Byte: absolutely, they’ve got different chest plates to swap in and out so they only have big boobs some of the time, but they’d certainly pierce any of them

Jordi: not yet, but definitely would— especially if you’d be willing to do it~

Thorn (college group one): yes

Amory (pop star reader): he might have them, might not— as a minor deity who can change appearance at will, it’s not a big deal to him. He usually has them but sometimes forgets to have them in human form, lol.

Sarina (pop star reader): like Amory, she could choose to have or not have them at will, but she doesn’t really like how they look on her.

Spirit of the Roads (misc spirits and monsters): oh, definitely already has them, and loves it.

Lighthouse Spirit (misc spirits and monsters): no, and good luck piercing a ghost

Felicity (misc spirits and monsters): no, she’s scared 🥺. She only has a lobe piercing in each ear and almost passed out from those alone. If you really really want her to have them she’ll try for you but you have to do it yourself or hold her hand while a piercer does it.

Kyra (misc spirits and monsters): no, but definitely would if she thought about it

Drew (crime family): no, and she wouldn’t be willing to

Mason (werewolf pack): already has one pierced, and that’s all he wants

Hunter (werewolf pack): no, even in the best circumstances Hunter doesn’t like acknowledging his chest, much less for something as invasive as getting pierced. The binder or sports bra stays on at all times except showering, no ifs, ands, or buts. He’ll get genuinely angry with you if you push for it.

Genesis (ghost hunters): no, but would, if there’s a jewelry substance that can withstand the boiling acidity of his blood/body

Tasha (werecat pride): no, and probably won’t

Kurtis (Cliffside inn): probably, but definitely would if you suggested it

Cecilia (Cliffside inn): no, and no

Airna (Cliffside inn): no; she would only go for it if you were the one to do it

Emerson (student council): no, and probably wouldn’t ever do it

Lottie (bikers): yes

Aspen (bikers): would do it if pressured into it by you and/or Lottie, if Lottie hasn’t already pressured her into it

Cael (the empyrean): yes

Malak (the empyrean): maybe, wouldn’t take too much convincing

Lyla (the empyrean): yes

Sammy (the empyrean): probably doesn’t have them already, but might get them if reader holds his hand/does it themself

Selene (the empyrean): yes

Kosuke (zodiac): no and no

Olive (zodiac): no and maybe, if you tell them that nipple piercings can make your nipples more sensitive to touch~

Jules (zodiac): no, and probably wouldn’t— or if they tried they’d end up taking the piercings out anyway.

Jett (zodiac): yes

Blake (zodiac): yes

Minnow (zodiac): no, and they probably wouldn’t without a lot of coaxing and comforting from their darling

Countess Lenore (vamp couple): no, and wouldn’t. She’s much more interested in piercing you :]

Maisie (MILF): maybe? I could see her having them, but only once she’s done having kids (as nipple piercings can become infected from breastfeeding).

Noe (DnD): no, and probably wouldn’t! Scared to.

Sensei Munroe (martial arts): no, but might get them if she feels like it. It’s not a big deal to her either way, really. The pain doesn’t frighten her.

Adémidé (martial arts): no, and probably wouldn’t unless coaxed into it by their Darling or their Darling asks them to get it done together.

[bethesammytomydean]

Moon

"Here you go."

Sam took the beer Dean handed him, reclining on the hood of the Impala. It didn't take too long before Dean settled next to him, leaning back just like Sam was doing. It wasn't something they did often: relax and watch the stars. Dean would even deny that this was what they were doing because 'it was too gay'.

Apparently that was where he drew the line, not at gay incest.

"There are a damn lot of 'em, huh?"

Sam shrugged. "Approximately 200 sextillion."

"First of all, sextillion?" Dean asked, looking at his little brother. "And second of all, how do you know that?"

"Another word for billion trillion," Sam explained, like that would make more sense. He too couldn't fathom just how many stars that meant. But he could see that there were a lot in the sky right above them, and since they were far away from any lights from houses the night sky was very beautiful. Sam felt like he could see all of the stars, somehow. It was stunning, just staring up at the sky could take his breath away sometimes. "Didn't you call me a walking encyclopaedia of weirdness?"

"Just one more time to prove me right."

Silence filled the air then. Sam was too busy staring up at the sky, taking in the beauty, to argue with his brother. And it made sense that Dean would call him that anyways. Besides, it wasn't like it was a bad thing. Sam did know a lot of things, and he knew a lot of things that no one really needed to know anything about. But what did that matter? It was fun to know millions of random facts.

"They really ain't that beautiful, y'know?"

Sam frowned, glancing at Dean before looking back at the sky. Was Dean talking about the same thing Sam was looking at? "What are you talking about? These are stars, Dean. Massive self-luminous celestial bodies of gas that shine by radiation derived from its internal energy sources. How is that not beautiful or impressive?"

"I'm not sayin' they're not beautiful, just saying that you're more beautiful."

And that stunned Sam into silence. He stared at his brother who was drinking from his bottle of beer, stubbornly staring up at the sky. Sam could swear that his brother's cheeks were flushed pink, but the barely-there lighting of the moon wasn't enough for Sam to make sure if his brother was blushing or not.

Instead of making Dean more uncomfortable, Sam eventually reached over, moving his body so it was pressed up against Dean's. Side to side, warm against one another. Better than words, because those would just make Dean feel embarrassed.

"Did you know that black holes don't suck?" Sam piped up, making Dean hum a little, shaking his head. Sam couldn't supress the smirk that formed on his lips as he looked at his brother. "But I do."

[wordgirlexploration]

i finally got the whole blog set up and fancified to my liking :3

now that that’s out of the way, hi, i’m ale, and design is my passion. i drew all of our refs for Exploration, and now i’d like to divulge some details about why we designed characters the way we did!

i’ll be going in lineup order, so feel free to pull those bad boys up and follow along :]

Cpt. Huggyface

at Raven’s request, we have made him look more like a creature. we really wanted him to look like no Earthling monkey, so that it was less obvious compared to Bob, the other monkey in Fair City.

we’ve removed his shirt. Huggy can change color at will, and blue is his most iconic color, so we decided to just. make him blue. 

his lightning bolt insignia is also blue. this is because it isn’t actually an insignia, it’s a scar. it’s grown over with fur now, but the color changing is still a little off in that area.

we gave him an aviator's helmet because he is one. it was a lot more interesting than his original.

his antenna curves slightly because i thought it looked stupid sticking straight up.

another note on his antenna: it's not part of his helmet, it's his actual antenna.

WordGirl

we have her a ponytail for her ease of flying and fighting people. keeps it from getting in her face.

one little flyaway on her ponytail is star-shaped - because stars are WordGirl’s shape :]

we also gave her a star-shaped mask to make it easier for her to conceal her identity.

the neck of her cape is now a little turtleneck, it keeps her warm in those high altitudes.

her gloves and boots are based off how they look in the comics. also i like drawing defined shoes :]

WordGirl has blue eyeshines because she has a nictitating membrane, like a cat. also, her eyes are star-shaped because those are her shape.

her sclera are slightly yellowish, due to her powers. her eyes are also more of a dark red for the same reason.

you can't see them, but she has little fangs. adds to her alienness.

Becky

Becky has two upward flyaways on her head. this is because she has a bee motif (spelling bee), and those are the antenna

her headband has a small gold thing at the end, because it doubles as the headband for her helmet.

also has star-shaped eyes, but hers are slightly smaller, and less obviously noticeable.

has a bee necklace, because of her bee motif.

the pleated skirt was an accident i drew before looking at a reference. but i drew those pleats, so i had to keep them.

we gave her skirt pockets, because pockets are a nice thing for skirts to have!

we kinked her and Wordgirl's hair. she deserves curly hair with volume <3

Tobey

he has stupid hair. one of his cowlicks looked very awkward, so i decided to make it reminiscent of his robits antennae.

he has sectoral heterochromia - we agree that Tobey has heterochromia, but we agree slightly stronger that his eyes are blue.

his knees are a little scuffed up. i picture he's fallen off the robits a few times and scraped em.

his socks are lowered slightly. he's older now, so we thought his socks should be more reasonable.

Steven Boxleitner + Two-Brains + Squeaky

Steven's ref is chocked full of references to his fate as Two-Brains.

first is the tail-like flyaway on the back of his head. it's inspired by a comic character, and is meant to be reminiscent of a mouse tail.

the same goes for Two-Brains's two brain, it's shaped like a mouse to resemble Squeaky, and the flyaway of the hair tuft under it is meant to be her tail.

i noticed that Squeaky actually has a little bit of a snaggletooth, so i gave that, along with the normal mouse chompers, to Two-Brains.

his bowtie resembles mouse ears

on Steven, his lab coat sleeves are actually tucked into his long gloves. on Two-Brains, they are cut off.

Steven wears a button-up shirt tucked into his pants. Two-Brains wears a t-shirt.

Two-Brains belt is falling out, because Squeaky does not care for clothes and TB must put them on as fast as possible.

inspired by the same comic character as before, the tail of his labcoat is also meant to resemble the tail of a mouse.

Steven has dressy shoes, with spat-like coloring that matches with Becky's. Two-Brains has sneakers that are inspired by a lot of furry art i see where their toes are out - TB does not have his toes out, but the lines are meant to resemble paws.

Squeaky does not let TB tie his laces.

Squeaky herself resembles a dumbo rat, despite being a mouse. Her not looking like the ideal mouse is what lead to her being on sale.

Two-Brains has little chin whiskers, because mice have So Darn many. that's also what his little zigzag flyaway is meant to resemble.

Chuck

Chuck's lettuce is a bit more leafy and his eyes are dots to add to his innocent, cuteness factor.

Raven told me he has pickles, so i drew a little pickle on him.

Chuck has freckles that resemble the crumb of white bread. or he has a crumb that resembles freckles.

he has a turtleneck, we didn't think his ma would want him to go out without a sweater.

we couldn't figure out his shoes - so we decided to make them rainboots that look like green olives.

Butcher

we gave him blue eyes because it's good contrast.

i gave him a little face bandage because i thought it would be funny if he cut himself shaving.

i gave him a little chest hair. you can probably guess why :,]

gave him generic loafers based on a line where he mentioned his shoes not having laces.

Lil' Mittens

gave him mittens <3

he now has a little red collar with a bell, because i think once Butcher lost him once, he had to make sure he never lost him again. his collar is red because it's the meatiest color.

The Whammer

we once came across a furry wordgirl au, and started to think about what the other characters would be. obviously, we decided that Whammer was a bull. we decided to take that idea and run with it, and make him a cute little cowboy.

he has cow ears. Raven pitched the idea, and initially i put them on his helmet, and then where human ears would go. Raven eventually had to kick me and tell me to put them were cow ears would go. Raven was right.

i think cow eartags are really cute, so i had to give him one.

initially, i gave Whammer an anti-nursing tag on his nose. Raven thought it was too much and told me to make it a nose ring. you know, like a BULL.

i get nervous when a character design uses too many colors, and everyone agreed that Whammer's outfit was really ugly. so we decided to make it purple and orange, like his mask, to make those "his" colors.

Invisi-Bill

Invisi-Bill is a neat little creature, and ever since i started drawing him, i decided to give him elf ears for no real reason than to make him more creaturelike.

in A Questionable Pair, it's shown Invisi-Bill has his ears pierced. i look advantage of his long ears and gave him an earring with a chain.

he has I cufflinks because he's Invisi-Bill! yay!

he has a tooth gap because he is my favorite and i have a tooth gap :]

he has 2-tone wingtip shoes because he is my favorite i like 2-tone wingtip shoes :]

Big Left Hand Guy

blhg has slightly darker skin, because i think he's related to the stout, tan-skinned bank guard.

i gave him a cane based on a mention in the fanfic BLHG's Big Dilemma by DandyMaximilian. helps him not stand knocked over slightly.

he has one gay earring, based on the designs of rootbeertime. i just put it on the right ear. i think it's funny he would do that.

Ms Question

has yellow sclera, because that's the color her eyes were when she first got her powers.

i've seen at least two fanarts of her with question mark earrings, and i think it's really, really cute.

we thought that her little black wrist braces were silly. we decided to full-on give her black gloves.

Raven really loved the little gold trim of WordGirl's boots in the comics, and wanted to give this lady also with red boots the same touch.

The Coach

none of us really care for The Coach, so he is basically the same as canon. except for his cuffs!!! i had to fix his cuffs!! they were the wrong color!!!

Kid Math

when we decided to give Becky a bee motif, we also decided that Kid Math should also have a bug. we decided on making him a termite, because Hexagon is a math-based society, and architecture is pretty mathy.

we replaced his cape with wings. it adds to his alien nature. additionally, winged termites are young creatures who are sent out to scout for new territory. Kid Math is young, and it relates slightly to our arc for him.

he has hexagon-shaped eyes to contrast WordGirl's star-shaped ones. 

he has compound eyes like a fly, and orangey sclera, to add to his buginess and alienness.

he has little fangs.

Mr. Big

mostly the same as canon, but i upped his bunnyness and fancied his shoes.

his tie is now striped to resemble his mind control beams.

i thought the little kerchief in his pocket looked ugly, so i replaced it with a itty bitty squishy bunny.

he also has bunny cufflinks :]

The Squishy Bunnies, i guess

i just made them cute. i couldn't bring myself to draw their canon designs

Leslie

basically the same as canon, but bunnyed her up a little. we thought it would be funny if Mr. Big had no dress code, aside from "one bunny item", so we gave her a bunny hairclip and bunny earrings.

her choker is black now because we didn't think the purple really needed to be there

Granny May

made her hair more curly, because she is a black woman.

made her pearls slightly more yellow, because they're old.

her pearl necklace has a little diamond shape on it as a button to turn into her metal suit.

made the band on her dress green and a bow, because we thought it was cute and old ladyish :]

gave her a cane, because she's a little older than she used to be. also, it's a new weapon against WordGirl

Colonel Mustard

gave him some hair back. mostly because i thought his exposed cheek was ugly, and figured i'd give him the paws back while i was at it.

Victoria Best

we thought it would be fun if she wasn't really blonde.

i lowered her pigtails and made her ties bows, because she's a little older now, and the bows were cuter.

at the request of Robin, she now has freckles to resemble her brother.

we gave her slightly pinkish nudey eyeshadow, because we felt like she would be the type to wear it.

her eyes are inspired by ocular albinism, her eyes are blue, but in certain lights, become red, like when her eyes glow.

her skirt is pleats now, like Becky.

we gave her mary janes, because they're kinda like Becky's silly shoes, but Better.

Lady Redundant Woman

we made her slightly paler, to resemble a blank piece of printer paper.

made her eyes CMY, like a printer.

her downward-facing eyelashes are meant to resemble ink dripping from her eyes.

canonically she has lips, but none of us thought the pink suited her. so we gave her a cute black upper lip, like ink.

we pinked her suit slightly to moreso resemble the magenta of a printer.

i made her belt a floppy disk. i just thought it'd be funny.

we gave her boots a white trim, because Raven thought her boots were white.

Maria, Charlie, Meatball

basically unchanged from canon

[triscribeaucollection]

@foxstronaut: #YEAH SO I DID IN FACT WANT TO SEE IT#this is so good……this au just keeps getting better……….tysm for the link to this post!!#the wider context of the time travel……the fallout of bens betrayal…..#positively eating this up#also if i can ask- what is the ‘shereshoy’ mentioned in ur tag? :0

Shereshoy is the capstone of my Vod'e An Star Wars series, which is ALL about time travel, but I keep copy-pasting the intro scene into different AUs because it is. Definitely one of my favorite bits of writing to date.

Here's the series summary:

Have you ever seen a time traveler dropped into the middle of someone else's butterfly effect? How about several dozen someones? AKA I nabbed all my fave clone troopers and sprinkled them into a much happier galaxy, with a touch of violence on top. As a treat.

Aaand just for laughs, here's the intro scene in question:

---

The Force screamed in the middle of the night, and Ahsoka lurched awake with one overriding thought: not again.

Both lightsabers immediately flew to her hands as she rolled out of bed - boots and outer robes left behind in her sprint for the door. For the first time since constructing her own hab at Luke’s school, Ahsoka regretted putting herself on a neighboring ridge instead of down in the valley among the students.

Even as she ran, the Force flickered with another youngling’s death.

Beams of red light in the darkness, matched to knots of Dark power, drew her forward at even greater speed. Bounding off rocks and trees, the togruta remained nearly silent with every leap; she instinctively shielded herself with the Force to mask her approach, until the moment she burst out over the heads of three Sith acolytes, and let her own power flare.

Their helmeted heads snapped upwards. In the span of two heartbeats, her white sabers slashed, and those same heads fell to the ground, their bodies following after a brief pause.

Ahsoka landed in a battle-ready crouch, positioned defensively over a boy collapsed on the ground. When no further Sith revealed themselves, she deactivated and tucked away one lightsaber, freed hand reaching for the teenager at her feet. “Jacen?”

“I’m okay,” he rasped, heart pounding hard enough her lekku could feel the vibrations. “What- what’s happening?”

“Another Purge,” Ahsoka said, fighting hard to keep her voice level. “Can you feel Ezra?” After a moment’s pause, his face scrunched with desperate concentration, Jacen nodded. “Then let’s go. I’ll watch your back.”

The boy staggered upright, and led her around to the far side of the school buildings: student sleeping huts, a kitchen and meal hall, storage and laundry and library. Most of them bore scorch marks and other damage, while further up the valley, the actual temple where Luke handled meditation and combat training burned.

Storm clouds rumbled overhead, an echo of the fury roaring in Ahsoka’s mind. Twice, cracks of lightning revealed fallen bodies as she and Jacen ran past.

Another set of Sith attempted an ambush, only to falter when they registered her white lightsabers. Ahsoka didn’t hesitate to leap forward and deal with them swiftly, before any attention could be turned to the padawan beside her. Jacen, thankfully, didn’t attempt to join her, nor did he comment afterward - but his Force-presence shivered and pulled in even tighter on itself.

The next enemies they came across were a squad of stormtroopers, concentrating fire on a solitary figure, who deflected incoming plasma bolts and shot back his own with the same weapon. Ahsoka could sense two more younglings hidden behind Ezra’s billowed cloak, and increased her speed.

One trooper spotted her mid-charge. He and his neighbor turned to shoot at the new target, but their bolts went wild, too far off the mark to even require deflection. Ridiculous, Ahsoka could hear in her mind, as she spun and slashed, No brother would have gotten off Kamino with aim like that; do they even bother training these shinies, or just hand ‘em armor and a blaster and a new set of orders?

Faster than droids, but not nearly as fast or coordinated as clones, which meant Ahsoka carved through the stormtroopers within moments. As the last blaster fell in pieces to the ground, she saw Jacen dash past to crash against his favorite teacher with a desperate hug. Ezra wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, the other still holding his lightsaber. “Ahsoka?”

“Get to my ship,” she ordered, as another peal of thunder rang above their heads, and the first few raindrops began to fall. “Don’t wait for anyone else, just take off and get to safety.”

Expression grim, Ezra nodded, and turned to drop into a crouch. He helped Alora get to her feet, the girl holding Grogu against her chest. “Pypey?”

The teenager shook her head, headscarf gone, face covered in tears. Ezra didn’t waste any more time before hustling her and Jacen off, towards the hidden landing pad where they kept hyper-capable craft. Ahsoka barely waited before hurrying onward again.

She passed more bodies; some students, some stormtroopers, the occasional Sith in black and red armor. The rain began coming down harder, turning the ground slick with mud, dragging visibility down to mere feet and severely impacting how much Ahsoka could sense with her hollow montrals.

But the Force didn’t falter. Every leap took her from one mostly-stable spot to another, following further death knells and surges of power, all the way up to the front steps of the old Jedi temple set into the mountainside. All the way to Luke.

Despite his much smaller stature, he moved like Anakin, and she could feel the intense emotions racing through him. One trooper after another fell, Luke refusing to let any of them put so much as a single foot on the steps into his school, his Academy. More bodies sprawled across the stones behind him; only one still flickered faintly with life.

Ahsoka took over the fight.

She landed ahead and just to one side of Luke, better positioned to defend the one student still gasping for breath. “Go! Take her and go!” Her fellow Jedi hesitated, clearly torn between multiple directions. “She’s dying, Luke, take Jaina and go, NOW!”

His Force-presence flared, then settled, decision made. Ahsoka felt the man lunge, scoop up his wounded student, and bolt into the Temple. She knew he’d follow a secret route out to the far side of the mountain, where an overhang sheltered his old X-Wing. With any luck, Artoo would be waiting, engines already fired up and ready to take off.

Even without luck, Ahsoka would buy them enough time to escape. Raindrops sizzled off her lightsabers as she swept them through the air, evaporating into steam that trailed after her every movement.

And Ahsoka moved.

[richardsletters]

"Greetings. Got your 1-5-01 letter. Great pics. You have a (?) collection of SK stuff I see. And you do look like Ted Bundy in that one picture. thanx for the 10 you sent. Much appreciated! Do you have any show's on me on tape? What did your tarantula eat? I can't get a subscription to an porn mag. So don't bother getting  Asian Fever for me. Thanx anyway. You buy porn mags? Get a few Hustler's and send me pages from them. Your house kix ass. You own or rent? What are the japanese horror movies about? Can you get me any still pictures from those movies? Yeah, say hello to Kevin for me. He married your sister? Why don't you play the lottery? Who's the chick in the picture? You been with her for awhile? Do you ever go online? What music you been listening to these days? What's the best horror movie you've seen? I see you have a poster of Zeke. Have you heard their music? I signed a poster for them. I see you have some drawings on the wall. Who drew em? Whatcha think of the Texas 7 and how they gave up? For 10 minutes of media time. ha Well 2 of em anyway. There's a guy in here who gave up for a hambuger and pepsi. :) Yeah your 59 Chevy would look cool if you fixed it up. How long have you lived at your current pad? Look up the Feb issue of "stuff" magazin. Good "Crazy Rock star" articles in it. Yeah I'd liked your xmas tree decorations. ha ha I'll end it here. Take it E/Z. 

Your friend 

Richard"

[titanicfreija]

Showing off

"Hey."

Freija turned to her ghost, lowering her gun and tilting her head. "Yeah?"

This shell was new. Or was one of Freija's favorites and had been on a shelf since they got Sunny's discs. A classic angular one with pretty curls on it.

Sunny bounced along to the solid beat underlying the music she played, getting her time right for the first couple of bars before the bouncing melody started. The unknown instruments and language didn't hide the mirth from Freija, and it set the mood for Sunny's dance successfully.

~

The graceful motions following could only be dancing-- the bobbing got bigger, on a four count around nine points, and the shell petal flaps flew in measured distances away from her core body and spun around one another, whirling on different axes at varying speed.

The eight shell flaps turned into whole other shapes as she manipulated them individually and together- wheeling in countering directions, pulling all to the front and twisting them in their field, sending them flying out singly in time with the music, resulting in a twinkling star; she paired top and side sets to wheel two linked points together, spinning each on their own axes as she spun her core body.

For the two minutes of song, Sunny whirled around her dance field and put forth a dazzling display, finally showing Freija what Rex meant by 'good dancer'. The Titan tried to learn what she could, but she would need the petals to slow down a lot to follow those.

The song drew to a close and Sunny pulled her shell close and hovered still in the air, watching her Titan silently.

Freija struggled for several long moments. Sunny slowly sank in the air, and Freija knew she took it as a bad thing but she still didn't know what to say. Her helmet hid her face so Sunny couldn't see the slack-jawed awe.

"Hang on, I liked it, I'm just speechless," the Titan stammered weakly. "I can't even swear."

Sunny shot six feet over Freija's head with a shrill electronic noise, spiraling back down. "You can't even swear?"

"None of 'em are good enough. Not enough magnitude. Gonna have to look up new ones or something, I can only swear about how much I can't say anything, like. Uh. I can't do that and not even because I'm not a ghost. I couldn't do that if I was a ghost. Most ghosts can't do that, can they?"

Sunny's eye fuzzed around the edge and she swayed as if on a pendulum. "Ah. No. The ways I can manipulate my shell are pretty special. I practiced a lot. I got lucky and found music early on during my search, being... Nosy, like you call me, I would look through old databases and the like. And dancing itself came natural. You'll never relate, but it's like music makes me want to move, so in suitably empty places, I'd play the music and dance."

Freija nodded slowly, knowing her helmet only barely reflected the motion. "Okay, well, nine hundred years of practice pays off. Good to know."

Sunny bounced merrily. "You can be speechless, I don't want you to force it."

The ghost hovered past Freija and tried to lead her on, but the Titan stumbled over her feet as she turned. "Can you do that again? Is that a whole routine? Freestyle?"

"Steps are prearranged, arrangement of steps are, too, for this song, but I have other arrangements and I have other music I don't do that with." The ghost kept hovering ahead without looking back at her guardian, deliberately playing it cool.

"... Good job." The Titan shambled after her. "That was great. Did you change shells in my backpack?"

"Yep!" Sunny sent the shell into storage and 'matted her Hareball shell on. "You got me the disc shaped ones, I'll need to practice with those. They won't link in the same ways."

"Maybe get you a special Dancing Shell?"

@annieruok94