#YOU KNOW WHO IT ISSSSS

[hella1975]

hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x

[panicsimss]

💌 Post 4 pictures from Pinterest that describe your OC. Send this to 3 other simmers to keep the chain going!

Well you're getting 8 because I was being indecisive 😭😭

[inkyquince]

yall lil lewd lads into a/b/o?

Cuz

I may be about to reach far out of my depth

I really wanna do this big a/b/o thing and its horny and an au and its gonna require a bunch of work and i wanna write it but i gottaaaaa know if yall down with the popping knots

[ashesofacheron]

lmao i thought about deleting that tag immediately after i made it so thank u 😭

Gotta give some credit where it’s due 🫡

Sometimes this website really has some of the best shit just wedged away in the tag(s) section.

[transmasccum]

Neeeeeeed him to get so drunk he can't control himself and finger me in the bathroom. Ok

[lunarelly]

people who think slapping things like “found on pinterest uwu” or “idk who the og artist is” are proper compensation for actual art credit i hope you get roaches in your car and i hope they’re the kind that fly

[lemonlovemeanslove]

being able to immediately tell when tiktoker or youtuber grew up rich is such a great skill to have lol. if u know their rich u know not to listen to any advice, bc it probs won't apply to u

[salford-blues]

Flowers follow

A/n: Think I might have to switch some things up. I only write smau's. Do you guys reckon I should write actual stories? I've never done it before, but I can certainly try. Pairing: F1 mystery driver x driver!reader Summary: Reader continues to soft launch her mystery man... through flowers?? (basic ass summary cause I'm bobbins at them) Warnings: like one swear word

@yourusername posted on their story

caption: I love you a lily more every day

Replies to story

liamlawson30 disgusting caption. You should be ashamed of yourself

alex_albon I know who it isssss

> yourusername who snitched?

>> alex_albon my lips are sealed

>>> yourusername count your days Albon

user.1 tell us your mystery man... please im begging

landonorris WHO IS YOUR MANNNN?? Why won't you tell me? Are we not besties?

> yourusername because you can't keep secrets to save your life

@yourusername

oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, georgerussell63 & others liked

''April showers may bring May flowers, but you bring me flowers year-round''

View All Comments

liamlawson30 whats with the corny captions lately

> yourusername you love them bc you love me

>> liamlawson30 no, I tolerate you

>> yourusername meanie :((

User.2 is mystery man Liam??

> User.3 I don't think so. They're just friends. Plus I don't think Liam rides a motorbike

User.4 Look at our girlie goooo!!

User.5 Lord... it's me again 🙏

@f1driverupdates

liamlawson30, mickschumacher & 240,000 others liked

Rumour has it that our golden girl is now off the market. But the question remains... who has taken her? Still in her soft launch era, @yourusername has not shared that much information about her partner.

View all comments

user.6 can't believe someones stole my girl

user.7 We can see you Mick... 👀

user.8 Is Mick our mystery man? I men it checks out... tall and rides a motorcycle. Also seems like a person that is very caring to her and her pets

> user.9 omg imagine little Angie added to that madhouse!! So cutteee 🥰

@yourusername

oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris & others liked

In the garden of love, you are my favourite sunflower!! 🌻

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User.8 Love how he gave you crocheted ones so that they last forever

> yourusername he's so sweet!! Especially since they're my favourite flower as well

User.9 Just tell us already... I'm done waiting

liamlawson30 cool story bro, didn't ask

> yourusername rude. I'll make sure to beat your arse in monopoly next games night

>> liamlawson30 😔 noted

@yourusername

mickschumacher, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc & others liked

Guess what I said??

View all comments

alex_albon what is this? when was this? Message me back Y/n

liamlawson30 Pick up the phone Y/n!!! I need answers

user.10 noooooooo... we've lost her

user.11 you said no, right?? pls don't join the dark side 🥲

oscarpiastri I hope that's fake

> yourusername maybe it is, maybe it isn't... but hey i still said yessss

>> logansargeant yeah well me and Oscar are gonna have a little word with him when we see him next

>>> liamlawson30 me three

>>>> danielricciardo me four

>>>>> yourusername oh leave him be. You all know he's nice and takes care of me.

landonorris ????

User.12 ignore the last slide... look at the kitty 🐈 😻

> yourusername main character moment for him. He's the only one that likes the rides 🫶

[mockerycrow]

Undercover I (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — next

Summary: You’re apart of an undercover joint task force between the CIA and MI6, meant to invade Makarov’s operations. Your entire mission goes up in flames once Task Force 141 takes you in for interrogation after finding you beaten and bloody in one of Makarov’s warehouses.

A/N: i hate the ending of this part but it issss what it isssss… This was originally a male reader so I might change it back to male!reader later on. the fake name is as gender neutral as possible. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS WTF??

[WARNINGS: Gore, descriptions of injuries, descriptions of torture, near death experience(s), mentions of drowning, near drowning/waterboarding, medical inaccuracies.]

The POV switches a couple of times!

The operation fell apart the second my boss did not bother to inform more than my task force of our mission. My death sentence was written into existence the moment I stepped into that conference room with several other high-end individuals—we all worked undercover operations before. We’ve all have had our deaths faked, our lives torn apart and restitched for the perfect narrative for any mission necessary. We have been called for a mission at the darkest of hours to do the dirtiest of work. If no one serves in the dark, then no one can live in the light, right?

We hold up this facade, this mask—for years. You go into an undercover operation with an estimate of a couple years as the duration, how quickly your team is capable, and by the time you’ve done a couple of these missions; you know you have to take the estimate and double it, at the very least. You learn to live with the mountain of bodies you collect over the years, a giant pool of thick blood slowly getting bigger at my feet. My shoes stain with the blood—we all bleed the same, no matter your creed, your race, your gender, your sexuality. If that’s the fact, then how do we tell guilty blood from innocent? Where do the lines blur together, everything looking the same?

It gets dangerous working undercover for so long, but we have to keep going.

Some people lose themselves to the faux identity they’re playing, the fake family, the head of the household—the fake childhood, fake friends.. Sometimes, the faked life is preferred to the real one.

Not me, though.

I remember exactly who I am.

With a combat knife in my hands, circling a table with a map on it, with several marked places—I am Zhenya Antonenko, surrounded by the very people I’m working against in secret.

When I’m alone, I’m myself. I’m me. One of the very few people burdened with the duty of collecting information and intelligence and surveying it back home—back to my Captain, Tyler Hudson. The one person I can trust through this entire operation.

I know I have to trust my other teammates to an extent, but when you’ve seen so many men and women fall to the other side? It gets rough.

Shooting someone who you previously trusted with your life is.. I cannot even begin to describe the feeling.

Melancholy, perhaps?

Even then, I have to be careful.

“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful who we pretend to be.”

“..status?” “alive…”

Throbbing pain. Searing. Rough hands on you—

“..one of his..” That accent—it’s not Russian. What?

Did the.. did the operation go tits up?-

No. This accent is Scottish. You didn’t work with any Scots.

…You’re in rough shape, to say the least.

Soap’s hands untie the harsh ropes digging to the skin of your wrists, ignoring how the rope is stained with your blood. You’re one of his—And you’re alive. You won’t be for long if he doesn’t act fast, though. Your skin is paler than usual, you’re soaked in freezing water and your own blood—Soap didn’t wince at your wounds, though. He had no empathy for anyone working with Makarov.

“Let’s get them on our truck, let’s move.” Price said, his tone rough and serious as always. He watches as the rope falls away from your hands and feet, and Price chooses to walk over to your unconscious from. His hand grabs your chin and lifts your head to take a look, and what he sees earns a hum from himself. You took quite a beating, which made Soap curious. “‘Wonder what th’bastard had to do to earn all o’that.” He comments, taking a good look at your face.

Your lips are slightly parted; cracked and stained with your own blood, probably from accidentally biting your tongue. Your lip is split open, definitely requiring a few stitches. Your nose absolutely has to be broken, dried blood all over your skin, your chin—mouth, lips, down the front of your shirt. No one would be surprised if your jaw wasn’t broken—or at least fractured in some way. Your eye is swollen shut and your eyebrow is split open—your hair is damp, both from blood and water.

Soap left you untied; even if you woke up, you wouldn’t be a threat. He puts the sling of his rifle over his shoulder and he hooks an arm under your knees, the other supporting the weight of your back. He grunts as he picks you up, leaning you into his chest. “Light,” Soap comments.

Ghost and Gaz come from a different part of a warehouse, documents and a laptop in hand. “He left in quite a hurry, sir.” Gaz murmurs, holding up a few pieces of paper. “These were scattered around, we nearly caught them by surprise.”

Before Price can ask his question, Ghost answers it, like he can read his Captain’s mind. “Makarov was here.”

The silence is deafening as the four men make their way out of the warehouse, documents, technology and an asset in their hands—you.

Soap ignores the way your blood is soaking into his clothing as they get back their truck and hauling into in the backseats.

For a moment, I thought I died. I really did; I thought Makarov and his goons truly beat me to death, sending me straight to the fiery pits of Hell with every wound they inflicted on me.. And I kind of wish they did, honestly.

But that scares me—I’ve never craved death before. Have I lost it already?

Or is it the burning pain that’s bubbling under my skin?

Nothing in particular wakes me up, but when I do, my tongue is heavy and dry; cotton like. I can’t taste anything besides maybe some blood acts dried around my lips. It takes all of my strength to lick my lips and—nevermind, blood and a weird sour taste. Like the kind you get after sleeping for longer than you should.

My head feels.. fuzzy, like there’s electricity bouncing inside of my skull. Or is that the distant ringing I hear? Or is it the insistent pressure behind my eyeballs?

My body feels so heavy. I feel like an anchor from a ship, being dragged through the bottom of the ocean. Both the weight, and the relatable feeling of like it’s crashed into everything in my path because hOlyfuckpainpainpain-

“They’re awake.” A low and rough voice drawls out; British. Can’t place the region when my fucking body is screaming for relief—

My eyes.. scratch that, eye opens because the other is swollen shut and I nearly regret waking up at all because of the fucking luminescent bulb in front of me, burning my corneas. A gloved hand grabs my jaw which make some cry out because something is wrong, terribly fucking wrong with my jaw—oh, shit, this guy is scary.

I’m forced to peer at the tall man with stocky shoulders and a wide chest, wearing a black balaclava with a skull painted on it. His eyes—they’re brown, but, but they’re so fucking empty, like they’re peering into my damn soul and ripping apart every action I’ve ever committed.

These guys aren’t Makarov’s. What?

I take a sharp inhale as I try to look over any more part of this guy’s uniform, but his grip isn’t letting me. Skull-face holds up a black leather booklet—my fucking I.D. “Zhenya Antonenko,” He spits out, almost mockingly, looking between the small photo of me and me, myself. I can’t bring myself to do anything like I usually would to stay in character; spit, slur out a curse or anything. My body aches.

“Zhenya Antonenko,” Skull-face repeats once more, letting go of my jaw, allowing the burning pain deep in the bone to sizzle down to a dull throb. My head nearly falls forward but I keep it up with the little strength that remains in my neck muscles. “You’ve worked for Makarov for a number of years, hm? Makes me wonder what’a little birdie on his shoulder has ta’do to make the big man leave ‘em for dead.”

I keep my mouth shut. That’s something I had to learn early on when I joined my team—no matter what, do not. let. them. break. you.

Makarov didn’t break me, and I certainly won’t let these guys break me when the entire population of countries are riding on my shoulders. I furrow my eyebrows and maintain eye contact with the big man, mustering the worst glare I can at the moment which probably isn’t very noticeable.

Fuck, I want to puke. My head is swimming, my entire body is just—I only feel pain, and by this point I can only guess where the sources are. It’s all blending together into the worst concoction.

I gasp as a stinging sensation blooms over my cheek—he smacked me.

“Pay attention.” Skull-face hissed, walking over to a tray nearby. I let out a shaky breath as I follow him and then when I see the other men present in the room. Skull-face’s friends.

The first man I see has dark skin, fairly young to be in squad like this. Capturing folk, I mean. He has a noticeable scar under one of his eyes—or I think..? It’s a scar? I can’t see that far, especially with that blinding light in my eye. He’s kind of bulky, but his shoulders are nowhere near as large as Skull-face’s. One of the other men are across the room, leaning against the wall, watching me closely with a hateful glare—like he wants to gut me, watch my intestines spill out and watch me die. He has a bucket hat on, military fatigue colored. He has mutton chops and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but whoever he is, is the only person I’ve seen whose been able to pull them off.

The fourth guy, aside from Skull-face and his friends Mutton Chops and Basic Boy, is staring me down. He’s fairly average height, stockier than Basic Boy, you can tell he’s strong by the way his forearms look. His hair is shaved into a mohawk—the sides need to be a bit more shaved as it looks more grown out. He has a little more than a stubble type beard, but I can vaguely make out a scar on his chin.

I grunt as Skull-faces hand connects with my cheek again and fuuuck, my jaw—

“I won’t fuckin’ say it again. Pay attention or I’ll do what Makarov did to you but tenfold.” Skull-face’s eyes are dark as I look back at his face, the throbbing pain in my face subsiding again after a few seconds. My shoulders slightly tense under his gaze; he’s not kidding. I can’t afford another beating, especially not after.. what he did.

Fuck.

Being stuck between a rock and a hard place, I force myself to nod, not once do my eyes leave his form. No matter what, I can’t break. “What was Makarov doin’ in that warehouse?” He gruffs out, grabbing a few documents off of a nearby metal table that I didn’t notice before. He sifts through the documents as I purse my lips together, muttering a weak, “я дал присягу.” I took an oath. Look, these guys clearly don’t work for Makarov, but I can’t fucking afford to give up any information.

“Stick to your story, no matter what. Unless I intervene, you have to keep going. Even if you’re on the verge of death.”

Hudson’s words flood my brain as Skull-face doesn’t respond to me. I feel a bead of sweat drip down my temple and face—sweating from the pain.

My body just.. fucking aches.

“An oath, huh?” Skull-face mutters, turning back to me with a document. “You took an oath for a terrorist?”

Oookay, this guy does not like Zhenya.

Me. He doesn’t like me.

My eyebrow twitches in response, but I keep my lips sealed shut. Skull-face holds up a document in front of me, and of course it’s all in Russian. “You know what this is?” He barks, his deep, Manchester accented voice bouncing off of the walls, echoing. “This is Makarov making arrangements to get his hands on biological weapon warfare.”

I keep silent—I know that it is, and my heart drops to my stomach from the thought of what could happen if Makarov manages to go through with it. Skull-face stares at me like he expects me to answer, and of course, I never give him one.

I gasp sharply as within seconds, my shirt is lifted and his knife rips through some stitches they’ve must’ve given meeeEE—holy fuck, shit shit oh fuck—

Blood gushes from my stomach, earning a choked noise from me. Pain blooms in my abdomen, and I can feel the warm liquid of my own blood dribbling down onto the spandex of my pants that hold them onto my hips. I immediately feel like my world is spinning again, Skull-face borderlines multiplies in front of me. He grabs my jaw which makes me cry out again—fucking let go—and he leans in real close to my face. “There’s obvious context missin’, yeah? Fill in the gaps and we’ll let the medics work on’ya.”

I force myself to breathe through my nose, with every heavy breath I force out, comes another wave of nausea.

“Мне нечего сказать.” I have nothing to say.

“I don’t think ya understand the’situation.” Mohawk seethes, approaching me from where he was standing. Scottish. He was there—he took me.

I blink sluggishly in an attempt to focus my eyes on the man who replaced Skull-face. I get a clearer view of his face. Tan skin for a Scot, probably spends a lot of his time in the sun—his eyes are so fucking bright blue—I can see every detail of his face from how close he is. Mohawk is angry and he’s one beautiful man. Maybe if I was tied up in this chair for a different reason, I’d be willing give up some of that information—

I keep quiet and stare him in the eyes. The burning flames of anger behind his eyes towards me; thank God I’m not Makarov. I hear a door open and I glance towards it for just a second—Mutton Chops is leaving. I quickly look back at Mohawk and shake my head, although speaking my refusal was probably a smarter idea because now my head is swimming again.

“Do’ye not understand that ya fell fer a trap?” He barks, grabbing the front of my shirt. I wince as I feel the fabric pulling away from my open wounds. “Makarov does not care aboot you!”

My breath hitches as the door slams open, my eyes tracking to who it is—Mutton Chops is back, wheeling in a… big bowl of water. Big enough to hold a head under.

Fuck.

Fuck, oh fuck!

They must’ve caught onto my reaction, which I didn’t really notice them doing as all I could focus on was my pounding heartbeat, but I heard a vague laugh. Mohawk grabs one of the legs of the cart, carelessly pulls it closer and his other hand grabs a chunk of hair on my head, pulling my head back. My lips part and a faint noise of pain leaving them. He says something, which I don’t register—and then he pushes my head under the water.

I immediately struggle as I instinctively took a gasp for air under the water, the water filtering into my lungs, my body screaming that it isn’t supposed to be there, that it’s wrong, that you’re drowning, you’re drowningdrowningdrowningdrowningdROWNING-

The water rushing in my ears doesn’t make this any better, the pure fucking panic in my gut worsens by the second as I can’t fucking breathe, lET ME GO, I ALREADY WENT THROUGH THIS ONCE—

I kick my feet, trying to find the cart, Mohawk, someone, anyone, shit, hElp-

Suddenly my head is ripped out of the water and my eye is closed and I’m sputtering water, my body desperate to cough the remaining in my lungs up, the water from my hair soaking the top of my shirt again, dripping into my mouth—

I still can’t breathe. I think I’m fucking dying.

My lungs are begging for air as I weakly gasp for it, my hands that are tied behind the chair grasp at the air, for anything to ground myself. I weakly kick at the air like that’ll help me, I don’t even know what’s going on anymore—fuck, I’m dying, my chest aches, my abdomen fucking hurts, I can’t hear anything, are they going to just stand there and watch me die?

Like Makarov did?

Are they going to fucking resuscitate me like he did?

Makarov held me under the water until all of the air in my lungs was replaced with ice cold water. I only remember waking up and spitting water out all over myself, laying on my back on the concrete floor of the warehouse, with a dark chuckle from him, murmuring, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

He did it twice. Maybe a third time? If he did, I don’t remember.

My head is ripped out of the water and I gasp for air so harshly I choke, and then I’m suddenly out like a light.

[dinanicolee88]

Cookierun self-aware headcanon 2

Warn : all of this entire work is only a headcanon/somehow not real, bad eng, bad writing

• Imagine that we, Bakers, are the only ones who understand how to use this (except for healing powder, the cookies use that to heal their own kind). Meanwhile, the cookies believe that to become strong, they have to train more.

"Baker, you have so many strange items in your storage ~"

"Right, i don't even know why you collect those"

• Imagine that we, Bakers, are the ones who are most stressed about collecting soulstones as material for summoning your cookies which cannot be summoned using a cookie cutter.

Pitaya : hn? Where isssss thissss ..? *summoned*

B : YOU! I CAN FINALLY SUMMON YOU, AFTER 5 MONTHS.

Pitaya : You..? Who are you? How could sssomeone like you bring me here?

B : I'm Baker, I brought you here with 20 SOULSTONES, DON'T YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO COLLECT THEM ALL???

Pitaya : .. what isss sssoulstones again..

• Imagine that we, Bakers, are the only ones who can raise the power status of our cookies (starjellies, potions, toppings)

B : *Just summoned crunchy chip cookie* Eat this.

Ccc : Huh? Sweets will soften my dough!

B : No no no, this will make you strong! Trust me 100%

Ccc : nghh.. alright, just watch out if this doesn't work. *eats star jellies* oh? This is pretty good.

B : Oh! Your power just increased by +100 points! if I raise your skill level.. —,

Ccc : POWER??? SKILL LEVEL??? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING AB— (he cannot see his own stats)

_______________________________________

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

@dinanicolee88 | please do not steal the idea without permission/credit

[doriana-gray-games]

Where did you learn to write? Your writing style and language is really beautiful!! Do you offer classes?

For a more general question, I was wondering if you have a favorite NPC so far? The carriage driver? The bartender? Mrs Hudson, or maybe the maid?

Beautiful story, thank you for writing it <3

Hi haha, I know who this isssss <3

I did not learn anywhere, tbh... I mean, I think I've told this story at least twice here, so I am sorry for repeating it, but it began as a Covid hobby to try and learn to write creatively. Just tried to be methodical about it. I read a lot, looked at text analytically, and did a lot of writing exercises, how-tos, etc. I imagine that might be the reason if my style is a bit unique; it's just homemade. (+ Not being an English native might add to any "uniqueness", too, haha.)

Hmmm. I mean, favourite is maybe a bit strong, but I like writing Mrs Hudson. She's... so much. Too much. And that can be fun to do. Although I always worry it exits comical and enters the absurd.

[saylorsaysstop]

Say Don't Go | Stephen Strange

a/n: i just wanted some angst and here it isssss

Everything had felt like it was crumbling around you for the last few weeks. The distance he put between you, the quiet which left you almost hollow. You would stare at the front door, beckoning him to walk through it, only for him to let you down. You didn’t know what to do or how to make it better. What was there to say to someone who wasn’t putting in the effort to love you as you deserved to be? 

The evenings he does come home, he won’t look at you. He won’t touch you. It’s as though a part of him that once adored you had died and all that remained was this silhouette of a man who used to belong to you. You knew his life was a strangled case of despair, that everything seemed to crumble around him after the accident. But you never expected Stephen to shut you out. You thought there was more to your relationship than this bitterness. 

Sitting on the barstool in front of the counter as you finish looking over a case for tomorrow at the hospital, that’s when your heart scatters in your chest at the unlocking of the front door. He stumbles inside, his complexion drained of all color. There is a heap of sorrow sitting in the middle of his back. The weight he carries looks detrimentally heavy and within time, you knew he’d fall to the ground and be crushed by his grief. 

“Stephen?” You call out to him. Your eyes trace the outline of his body, his bandaged hands, and the withering of his fingertips as he splays them on the door. You can see him taking in a couple of deep breaths before the sound of his forehead thumping against the wood has you closing your folder and crossing the distance before your brain can catch up. 

Standing before him with his back turned to you as it has been every time you see him, you swallow the thickness and blink back the tears. You will not cry in front of him. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let him see you fall apart. 

“Stephen,” you say his name with a little more force. 

“What?” He snaps harshly, his head craning to the side. “What?” he asks again when you don’t respond immediately. 

“Where were you?”

“I was–” he draws in a sharp breath and stops talking. “Nowhere.” 

“Nowhere? Please, Stephen. Spare me. I know you’re hunting like some madman for a cure, some sort of way to fix this situation. When will it stop? When will you let me in?” 

Stephen’s shoulders clench. You can see it through his clothes. The tension could be sliced with a knife as thick as it lays between you two. “You couldn’t possibly begin to understand what I’m going through.” 

His words stab like a sword, straight to the heart. 

And the next words out of your mouth make him flinch. 

“I would be able to understand if you’d drop this grieving facade and let me in!” 

You wince after the term grieving, knowing that struck a chord in him. He slowly turns to face you and you see nothing but wariness on his features. His eyebrows pinch together as he glances up at the ceiling, forcing himself not to look you in the eye. 

“Grieving facade?” 

“Stephen, that’s not what–” 

“No, no. You don’t get to say that to me! I don’t expect you to understand what I’ve lost because of this damn accident! These hands,” he lifts his scarred hands, deep blooms of red and purple and blue splotching his skin from the surgery. His eyes are glassy but he won’t let them fall, just like he knows you won’t cry in front of him. “Are my life. My livelihood is centered on what I can do with them. I’m a neurosurgeon! The best there is! And now I can’t do what I do best! You wouldn’t understand. You’ll never understand.” 

You stare up at him and your body trembles with the desperate need to sob. “You shouldn’t even be here.” he finally pushes past you and leads himself into the kitchen. 

“What?” your voice cracks. 

“I don’t need you.” He whips around, his face reddening as the anger surges and boils to the surface. “I don’t need you coddling me! I don’t need you waiting here every night for me! I don’t need YOU!” 

The words are out of his mouth when the first tear slips free followed by another. And another. And another until his image is completely blurry from crying. That was the final thread, the string that held you two him. He just severed it in two. Your head falls into your hands as you sob uncontrollably, listening as the man that you loved just screamed that he didn’t need you. 

You’re not sure what’s going on in the rapidly spinning world but the moment you feel his touch on your shoulder, you find your bearings and flinch away from him. 

“I-” 

“NO!” You scream. “You don’t get to say that to me, Stephen! You don’t get to hurt me because YOU’RE hurt! That’s why I’m here– to help you! I know how much this accident has affected your life. I know there’s nothing more you love than to be in that operating room, saving lives, and making a name for yourself! I KNOW THAT! But you… You don’t get to say that to me. I can’t believe you said that!” 

Stephen’s face morphs into so many emotions but the one that sets in stone is remorse. Shaking your head, you walk over to the counter and grab your folder and purse. “Where are you going?” he asks. 

“Someplace where I’m needed since you don’t anymore.” 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Stephen’s voice is tight. “I’m just angry. I-”

Holding up your hand, he stops talking. “Figure it out.” 

His eyebrows lift. “What?” 

You point a finger at him. “Figure out what it is that will make you happy. Figure out what you need.” 

“I need you.” he hisses. “I need you!”

“You should’ve thought of that before you said you didn’t.”

“Am I not allowed to be angry?!” Stephen’s voice roars. 

You angrily wipe away your tears as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Of course you do, Stephen. You’re allowed to fight, kick, punch, and scream. But never will you take that anger out on me, the only person who has stuck by your side since the accident happened! Who’s taken off work to be with you, to help you recover? Who’s cooked for you? Who has ensured you met every appointment, drove you to those appointments, who has loved you through this entire freaking mess?! ME, STEPHEN! ME! I’VE LOVED YOU THROUGH IT ALL!” 

Stephen flinches the higher your voice grows. Your chest heaves, a quick rise and fall as your nerves pulse with the need to throw something. You bite hard on your cheek until you taste blood, knowing that if you say anything else, you’ll bury the casket that was once your love for Stephen. You adore him. You love him. But you’ve officially reached your breaking point. 

“I need some time to regroup.” You exhale. 

“How long will that be?” Stephen dares to ask.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know.” 

“I love you,” Stephen says.

His heart squeezes in his chest, waiting for you to say it back. But when you inhale and grab the doorknob, he feels you slip through his fingertips.

“Bye, Stephen,” you say before leaving.

It’s when the door shut behind you and you made it to the safety of your car that you sobbed your heart out.

[crazystargirl]

instagram posts ft. @jackchampion & @y/n_l/n pt. 5 ♥︎

pairing ♥︎ - jack champion x fem!reader, jack champion x actress!reader

a/n ♥︎ - hahahahah lmao i only made this bc i was bored at school and someone commented to be tagged in this "series" alsp i was so unmotivated to finish this but i finished on monday night bc i couldnt sleep (i'll probably post the next few chapters of the smau today) ALSO ILL ADD PHOTOS ON THE TOP LATER I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL NOW 😭

liked by y/n_l/n, baileybass, and 738,324 others

jackchampion back from vacation and ready to start filming!!

view all 72,294 comments

y/n_l/n luckyyyyy im stuck at school 😭

| jackchampion aw you'll be fine school isn't that bad

| y/n_l/n YOU CANT BE TALKING YOU NEVER WENT TO PUBLIC SCHOOL

masonthegooding have fun im still on vaca 🤭

user821 I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THIS MOVIE ISSSSS

user494 can i get a hi from jack?

| jackchampion hi :)

| user494 UKWHDKDNRJDUW TYYYY

liked by jackchampion, devynnekoda, and 829,336 others

y/n_l/n i actually live my school life in constant fear that someone will recognize me 😭

view all 67,282 comments

user628 DUDE I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL WITH HERRRRR

user143 hold up i think i go to school with her 🤭

| y/n_l/n wait rlly??? 😭

misstrinitybliss awww it'll be fine at least we're both still in school

jennaortega ONE MORE YEAR AND THEN UR FREEEE

| y/n_l/n WHOOHOOOOOOO

liked by jackchampion, jennaortega, and 933,724 others

y/n_l/n i actually love him sm he came to hang out with me during lunch

view all 729,291 comments

jennaortega hes taking my job i miss u 😒

| y/n_l/n i miss u too 😭

user518 I NEED TO KNOW WHO THAT IS

user149 im betting it was jack fs

user947 couple goals fr 🫶🏻

liked by y/n_l/n, jasminsavoy, and 2,394,027 others

jackchampion so like idk if i should've bought these since she stole mine even tho i bought her own one 😒

view all 843,257 comments 

y/n_l/n why buy them if ur not gonna let me have them 💀

| jackchampion …that's not the point of me buying them

| user719 my parents are having a little argument 🤭

jennaortega y/n better share those

| y/n_l/n no way in hell am i sharing them

user927 awww they look cute

liked by devynnekoda, masonthegooding, and 936,294 others

y/n_l/n he told me we could play monopoly last night since school sucks and this is the convo i had with him this morning

view all 5 comments

jackchampion cant help it if im better 🤷🏼‍♂️

| y/n_l/n LITERALLY STOP 😭

masonthegooding damn he kicked your ass, never thought you'd be bad at monopoly

| jackchampion i told you i was better and you didnt believe me

| y/n_l/n blocked.

the comments on this post have been limited

liked by melissabarreram, y/nchampion, and 1,947,248 others

y/n_l/n i actually love him sm 🥹

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taglist ♥︎ - @xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @kaeswor@urmomcomsiimiamour, @abodyhasbeenfound, @phsychobanana @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz

lmk if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

©crazystargirl || do NOT copy or repost without my permission

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 16/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20

It's time we get back to the angel duo.

To those re-reading the fic on ao3, you'll notice some dialogues or descriptions have either been added or changed so it's not an exact replica of the chapters here. It's like little easter eggs of what I didn't get to put back then.

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

Gabriel: How dare you, Michael!

In an obscure corner of Heaven, sat the six remaining Archangels, engaged in a heated debate over what had just transpired between Michael and Lucifer and the Fates. The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. It's as awkward as you think being Emily and Sir Pentious in the room who seemed to fade into the background amidst the chaos.

The moment the others arrived, any semblance of order was thrown out the metaphorical window as questions upon questions were asked all at once. Sir Pentious stood rigidly at attention, though his efforts went unnoticed by the bickering Archangels. He's stiffer than Emily and she...

Emily has never been in a situation as tense like this before; even counting the disastrous court hearing with Charlie.

Since her creation, she had always been told that these are the most fearsome angels in Heaven; that they are both merciful and merciless, especially when it comes to protecting Heaven.

Sera: We strive to be like them, Emily. Our actions must all lead to one goal: safeguarding Heaven.

Emily: But Lucifer was their brother!

Sera: Those in power are always faced with harsh choices. And they stay in power because they can make those choices.

Emily: I still don't understand.

Sera: As Head Seraphim, I am also faced with constant challenges. But I do it all to protect our home. But you, you are still learning. And for now.. this shall be my burden to carry.

Emily: But.... What if I mess up?

Sera: That is why I will teach you, Emily. You still have so-

Emily: No! I mean.. The stories said that Lucifer was their most precious brother but he was still cast down. So what I mess up, Sera?

Sera: What?

Emily: Will you cast me down too?

Sera never did give her answer.

Uriel: How could you keep this from us, Michael? Do we not deserve to know such vital information? Especially when it's about our dear Samael?

Michael: I understand you're all angry. But I only found out mere days ago. I kept coming back just to check if my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I wanted to be sure-

A resounding bang echoed through the room as the Archangel of Healing forcefully slammed his palms onto the table, causing a collective flinch amongst everyone.

Rapahel: Bullshit! You were going to keep this all to yourself again; just like everything concerning Samael!

Jophiel, who is next to him, is rubbing circles in her brother's back in an attempt to calm Raphael down.

Jophiel: Given your track record concerning our little brother, we have every right to doubt you right now.

Camael: I think what they're trying to say is that you should've told us the second you found out. It doesn't matter if you're not sure, we can be there to help you figure it out. Something as concerning as Samael's death... that is not something you keep for as long as you should have.

Sir Pentious: Lucifer.

A sudden quiet fell over the assembled angels as their attention shifted towards the unexpected source of the interruption.

Emily stares at Sir Pentious is slight horror because her new friend just interrupted the Archangels' conversation.

Camael: I'm sorry?

Emily: Sir Pentious! You can't speak to them like-

But the snake only repeats himself.

Sir Pentious: Hisssssss Majesty's name isssss Lucifer.

For an agonizing minute, no one spoke. Whether it's because of Sir Pentious' correction or their presence, Emily isn't sure.

It was Michael who broke free from the collective stupor. With a weary sigh, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the weight of responsibility present upon his face. Emily braced herself, anticipating a reprimand for their intrusion, but to her surprise, the Sword of Heaven merely nodded in acknowledgment.

Michael: He's right. We can't keep disrespecting Sa- Lucifer's wishes even if he isn't here with us.

That broke whatever freezing spell the others had, confusion now paints their features.

Gabriel: I'm sorry who are these people?

While that question was directed at Michael, the Archangel of Wisdom directed theirs on the two of them.

Uriel: Who are you?

Emily: I'm uhm Emily, Your Heavenly Grace. I'm the Seraphim in training under Sera.. and this is Sir P-Pentious. Our uh newly redeemed soul from Hell.

She said the last part almost in a whisper but it seems like they all heard it nonetheless because they are now looking at them with pure disbelief.

Camael: Redeemed?!

Jophiel: From Hell?!

Raphael: Are you saying that this was once a sinner soul?!

Sir Pentious took a bit of an offense to that.

Sir Pentious: This has a name. I am the great Sir Pentiousssss, inventor and former resssssident of the hellish realm!

Uriel: H-How is that possible? Were you planning on keeping this from us too, Michael?

Michael and Emily both stood up so fast at that accusation.

Michael: No! I only knew of this today!

Emily: He didn't know!

The Messenger of God only raised an eyebrow at this and crossed his arms, a silent gesture to explain further.

Michael falls to his chair looking more tired than ever before.

Michael: Apparently, this soul arrived here months ago but the Head Seraphim chose not to mention anything to me or any of you.

Emily: Sera just wanted to know how it happened before telling anyone but with what happened that last... extermination, I think she was afraid.

Gabriel: She had the right to. What was she thinking?! First approving of this yearly genocide behind our backs and now this redeemed soul?! Tell me, young Seraph, are there any other secrets you're keeping from us?

Emily: I-

As multiple eyes manifested across the Archangel's form, a tangible sense of unease swept through the room. Michael then made a decisive move, positioning himself firmly between his brother and Emily, a silent but unmistakable gesture of protection.

Michael: There's no more, Gabe. Aside from this soul's-

Sir Pentious: ehem

Michael: -sorry, Sir Pentious' current redeemed status, Sera knows as much as us. Isn't that correct, young Emily?

Emily: Uh- Yes! We have no idea how, he just showed up in a beam of light suddenly. Please believe us.

As Uriel also positioned himself in front of Gabriel, his gaze a silent warning, Gabriel relented, reverting to his usual form and taking a seat, the tension visibly vanishing from his posture.

Michael gives him a silent thank you and controls himself.

Michael: Young Seraph, as much as we are delighted to know that redemption is possible, with the threat of a war hanging upon us, it is too dangerous right now to grant new souls in. We cannot do anything about the current human souls that is entering our gates but we can control those coming from Hell. So we can't let it be known for now- in Heaven or in Hell.

Emily understands but she still felt anger bubbling inside her. This is supposed to be good news! They finally told the top angels and they still need to keep it a secret? Charlie would be so hurt not knowing that her dream is becoming a reality.

Raphael: Damn the war, Michael! Our baby brother is going to die! I am not gonna make the same mistake twice by choosing Heaven over my own sibling. Never again.

Gabriel: What he said.

Emily can't count anymore how many times the Head Archangel had sighed throughout their encounter.

Michael: I know. I would like nothing more that to prevent that. But.. this is the Fates.

Uriel: ...He's right. We all know that even Father can't change what has already been woven.

Jophiel: So what? We just sit here and let Lucifer die?

Michael: Lucifer does not want our help. And we cannot stop Fate. This war will happen and Lucifer will perish in it.

Camael: Then what can we do?

.

.

.

Michael: We delay it.

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

Forgive me if it's a bit messy.

If you can't tell this is kind of in Emily's POV.

I love Sera okay but if I kept a secret as messed up as a genocide, I would probably refrain from telling my bosses that we there was probably no need for it anyway after finding out that redemption is real.

I'd also like to think that the Archangels are just as emotion-driven as Lucifer but only in front of their family. Anyone outside of them sees them as stoic and cold (that's why that is how Emily sees them).

[mischievouslittlewriter]

Just like with the other one, I'm so so sorry it took so long. Rough few months. Wasn't sure how you wanted it, so i gave the format of headcanons a shot.

------

Emma

🧡

🧡 She was just vibing

🧡 Hey, losing most rounds of tag, nearly snatching the first place, can be difficult.

🧡 Who better to brighten her day than you, of course?

🧡 "Hi, y/n!" She smiled, her chirpy voice resonating around the grounds.

🧡 You had a slightly different smile today though.

🧡 Almost like a smirk

🧡 "You look happy to see me."

🧡 uHm

🧡 "Well, yeah!" She focused on looking at the trees instead of you. Not that she DIDN'T want to look at you, of course.

🧡 "I knew it!"

🧡 wAiT

🧡 "Knew uh.. what?"

🧡 "I know who your little crush is!"

🧡 oh no

🧡 no you don't, right???

🧡 "It's me!"

🧡 SHOOT YOU DO-

🧡 "Wh-what!" She exclaimed.

🧡 kinda hard to miss the blush tho.

-----

Norman

💙

💙 Ah, the library.

💙 A place of complete silence.

💙 "Normannnnn."

💙 Well, normally.

💙 He didn't particularly mind this interruption though.

💙 "Afternoon, y/n!" He said, smiling.

💙 "Hiya." You said simply, sitting opposite him.

💙 Man had to fight hard to concentrate on his book tbh.

💙 "You know, Ray told me something interesting earlier." You quipped, propping your cheek on your hand, elbow on the table. 

💙 omygod.

💙 of course he did..

💙 Norman raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

💙 not doing a very successful job at hiding his blush.

💙 You simply smiled

💙 "I know who your crush isssss."

💙  tomato activated.

💙 You burst into laughter seeing this.

💙 Day spent well.

-----------

Ray 

🖤

🖤 Man is just reading at the tree.

🖤 Screaming kids all around him.

🖤 And then someone sits next to him.

🖤 Normally little dude would be displeased.

🖤 Butttttt he can excuse it if it's you.

🖤 "Hi, Ray."

🖤 "Hey, Y/N."

🖤 "Sooo.. Emma told me something very interesting earlier."

🖤 ...

🖤 no way - she didn't..

🖤 You smirked slightly.

🖤 "I know who your crush issss!"

🖤 SHOOOOOOOOOTTT-

🖤 Ray somehow had the composure to just raise his eyebrows. 

🖤 "Oh, really?"

🖤 He didn't take his eyes off his book.

🖤 But he definitely wasn't reading it.

[kthecutest]

Hi I have seen that your request are open. Can I please request K as a boyfriend headcanon. I love K so much and I'm happy that you also write for &team. 🥰🥰🤩

Ps: I love your writings😘

ケイ Kei as your bf (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

A/N ೃ⁀➷ I'm so happy you requested it!! I've wanted to write boyfriend K headcanons for agessss! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) Mwah Mwah - kisses for my gratefulness ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ pls if you ever have any other ideas for K 🦘content, you can count me as your num1 wish granter (◡̀_◡́)ᕤ Anw! Hope you'll enjoy this one! (⁎⁍̴̛ ₃ ⁍̴̛⁎)!!

⇆༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶↻

The unexpectedly clingy one. Kei is probably the one person that you’ve expected least to be a clingy little puppy. His constant determination in his work really gave you that impression – but you only noticed it was the total opposite when you’d receive sweet ‘I miss you’s from him every second he’s away at work; and the ‘good morning’s paired with sweet motivational quotes; although you must admit how old-styled the quotes can be sometimes – but they didn’t fail to motivate and humor you.

A puppy who’s a big fan of physical affection. Every corner of your house, he will be stuck to you like gum, sharing body heat every single second of the day. “Keiiii, just give me one second I need to get that pan up there”, you’d whine. Instantly you felt your feet off the ground as he carried your feather-light body – “There baby~ better?” You couldn’t help but pout and proceeds with your work. There’s no way you can push this puppy off of you.

Loves being super intimate with you. Of course he knows you have a boundary and he totally respects that but that doesn’t stop him from being so touchy and clingy with you – basically goes hand in hand with the point above. You’d often find yourself in the bathtub or shower together with him and you’d just stand there, questioning yourself in the head like; ‘howwww did it escalated to here-‘

It’s easy to make him flustered and the entire process is so evident too especially on his expressive little cute face. “Wow! Hehe you look so cute in that scarf love!” – “hmm but I prefer your hands around my neck~” – ba’am he’s spinning and turning and rolling, practically blushing and dying from your smutty comment. His brain going complete short circuit while you stood there with an innocent little smile.

But the flustered state won’t last long because he’ll always have a better comeback to throw you off even more than you could to him. In the blink of an eye, his huge hands are wrapped around your petite neck, his warm breath hitched close to your ear, and he spoke with a low tone – “you’re right love~ they really do look better around your neck than that scarf.” Oh fuck, you know you’re in great trouble now.

He’s the one boy who tries his best to always do the best for you but the occasion always gotta go wrong one way or another; guess luck just wasn’t on his side – probably because Kei himself was the embodiment of luck. Your puppy boyfriend had fully planned out a picnic date on the beach for the evening – a view of the tangerine blob of light fading in a daze in the sky. Suddenly, it started pouring, both of you were drenched as you two booked it back to the car. The bright smile on his face has now faded into a dazed saddened frown – but you reassured him you had the best date ever which brought back his warm glittering smile that you’ve always adored.

Literally hates his baby photos and tries to hide every piece and bit of his childhood photos from you because those are what you’d use most to tease him with – “Awww look at who this cute little boy isssss~ this cute little boy who’s munching on snacks~ loookkkk, awwww I just wanna give him a huggg~!” – earning a pout and a frown from your cute boyfriend. “Hey! But this boy in front of you is cuter!” his whiny tone followed by a clingy hug; had you chuckling and giggling. Only he’s allowed to tease you; not the other way around!

Takes thousands of selfies of you two together but then hesitates which ones to post every single time – because he’s too indecisive – and just like that the photos weren’t post on theme because the special occasion was eventually over. Kei’s had this trouble even before you two got together but it did helped a bit now that you’re here since you’re more of a decisive person; you could guide and help out your troubled little boyfriend.

Pretends like he don’t wanna share you his food. Kei holds up the chopsticks, a piece of porkchop in between, practically taunting your hungry figure; swaying it in front of your eyes. Yet when you try to take a bite, the piece of meat goes flying straight to his mouth. Kei smiled and giggled at your shocked and pouty expression yet when he sees the saddened expression on your face, he can’t help but apologize and pile up snacks and meals right around you like a puppy building a nest.

Flirty and romantic – sometimes you even think he is the epitome of cupid but instead the kind who kept shooting heart arrows at YOU and apparently, it’s working because you just kept falling into a spiral of love around him. Blows hearts and kisses at you even through the air whenever he sees you pass by at work – and he does it really obviously too just to flaunt it. Matching outfits are a must, at home or outside. The type who could come up with a more heart-attack-like comebacks to your flirty and smutty comments. The type who would feed you with a kiss instead of a spoon – he loves to be unique okayyy.

Your personal dance teacher. He isn’t the type to convert you into his hobbies but you yourself originally was into dancing – and just knowing that your own boyfriend is a professional at it, got you requesting him to teach you. Very focused and determined when he does so; might be a bit strict with you though, but that’s just how he is when it’s work hours, so you aren’t complaining. Might get a little bit too touchy in some moves; ahem and then it leads to something else – heated sex in the practice room

Lovessss to flaunt his strength and size to you very often. Would pick you up out of nowhere with his single arm – “showing off your muscles again Kei?” – “hehe don’t pretend you don’t love them baby” (I mean he ain’t wrong-) Would also hug you from whatever position and you would just feel like being sunk into a huge giant teddy bear – perfect for the snowy winters.

Gets strict with you when it comes to your health. You’re the kind of restless person who loves to bury yourself in work and stress, and it might barely affect you but Kei is definitely phased. He’ll drag you out every morning to the park for morning jogs, take away your piles of fast food – and make you some fresh veggie salads and when the clock dings midnight – “alright enough work baby, time to sleep~!” – “naur but I need to finish this” – “absolutely not~” – drags you straight to bed and hugs you like a teddy. You can’t even escape with his size and weight. He makes sure you get enough sleep except those nights when you guys must attend to your sexual desires – he could definitely make an exception for that.

Needy, mushy, wet kisses that often escalate to needier events. Sometimes you would earn little pecks from your huge boyfriend as a sign of affection and you absolutely adored them. But whenever this puppy comes home from work, omg no more pecks, literally draws you into him and makes out with you to the point you felt like he was gonna eat your face. Your puppy’s just missed you too much, could you blame him?

When he sees you drowning in his oversized hoodies or shirts, omg it’s like his soul got thrown to a whole ‘nother dimension. Literally melts at the sight of it all, and doesn’t miss even a second to pull out his phone and spam the camera shots. At the same time, the tent in his sweatpants is seriously visible as well – got your eyes widening and everything. Welp, might as well get on with it now that the tent won’t go down~ and for the photos he took earlier? – well that can wait for when he gets to work – might need a release or two on his breaks.