Emily: “I’m really sorry Vaggie didn’t feel comfortable coming back here. If there’s anything I can do to change that-”
Charlie: “Probably not! It was kinda a sign of her endless love for me that she visited haven again at all!”
Emily: “Oh! Oh that’s nice!!”
Charlie: “Which I NEVER would have asked her to do anyway, if I’d KNOWN the truth about her history up here!”
Emily: “Right. I’m so sorry about that too, by the-”
Charlie: “I mean, I’m not the kind of girl who askes her girlfriend to go spend an afternoon sitting across from the people who ripped off her wings! And her eye! And left her slumped against a dumpster looking half dead!”
Emily: “A… dumpster?”
Charlie: “Making the woman you love relive all that without even rEALIZING it would be pretty fucked up, wouldn’t it??”
Emily: “V- very.”
Charlie: “IT HYPOTHETICALLY COULD MAKE SOMEONE FEEL KINDA TERRIBLE AFTERWARDS, DON’T YOU THINK?”
Emily: “I’m sure it did!”
Charlie: “H Y P O T H E T I C A L L Y”
Emily: “Could! I could see that, yes, if it HAD happened, that would’ve been…”
Emily: “…”
Emily: “Are you- um, is she, errr.. doing better now?”
Charlie: “SO much better she’s doing SO great these days!!!!”
IN HELL
Vaggie: (lying face down on the hotel lobby floor) “I promise I won’t stop helping you morons when she dumps me. I won’t let her dream die just because I was dumb enough to think I could be part of it.”
Angel Dust: “That’s nice toots.”
Vaggie: “Thanks.”
Angel Dust: “Not sad or stupidly gay or anythin’.”
Vaggie: “Thanks.”
Cherri Bomb: “Sad? Angie, it’s perfect!” (takes picture) “I’ve been thinking this place could use a new rug…”
Niffty: (stepping on vaggie) “Squishy!”
Husk: “Get the fuck off her.” (at vaggie) “You, get the fuck UP.”
Vaggie: “Why.”
Alastor: “Hmmm, because this is PAINFULLY pathetic to watch, even for me?”
Vaggie: “Guess I’ll be here forever then.”
Angel Dust: “Vag-GAY c’mon, ya girlfirend’s not gonna dump ya. What’s the competition even!?”
Vaggie: “There’s an angel up in heaven who's helping Charlie work towards her life long dreams as we speak, and she's taller than me, got more wings than me, not as stabby as me, and also not a mass murderer or a liar or missing an eye.”
Cherri Bomb: "Hey!"
Vaggie: "No offence to the other one-eyed ladies here, but it's different when you've got a fucked up empty eye socket."
Niffty: (sighs dreamily) "I bet losing it hurt soooo baaaaad..."
Vaggie: "Never telling my girlfriend why I'd actually lost it or how it made me look like the deranged murder angel I was, even while she tried kissing it better for me, ended up hurting way worse."
Angel Dust: “That's a point….”
Angel Dust: “...alright, so Charlie’s PROBABLY not gonna dump ya-”
Niffty: “Oh that’s a weird sound!” (giggling) (bounces on vaggie) “I think she’s dying~”
Husk: “If you fucks kill her, I’m telling her demon princess girlfriend and pouring myself a drink to go with your fucking tormented howls.”
Vaggie: (muffled) “what if she’s my ex-girlfriend”
Husk: “…I’ll pour you a fucking drink and listen to your tormented howls.”
Niffty: “ME TOO I’LL LISTEN TOO!”
Alastor: “Dear one, perhaps if you were NOT standing on her skull and compressing her WRETCHED cries into the floor, we could be hearing them already.”
Niffty: “Whoops~ Heheheeh~”
Cherri Bomb: (recording it) “Damn, that groan’s been going on for ages… Bitch has some lung capacity on her.”
Angel Dust: “Point one for Vag-gay! Probs as good eating out as ya are at HOLDING out on ya girl!!!”
Vaggie: “uuuughhh…uaauuugghhaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaahhhhrrrgh..” (whimpers)
Niffty: “Okay.” (GIGGLES) “NOW she’s dying~” (bounces)
IN HEAVEN
Charlie: “Everything’s totally fine I have NO idea why you’d even ASK!”
Emily: “You’ve spent the entire time up here staring at pictures of Vaggie on your phone?”
Charlie: “I’m allowed to look at my girlfriend!”
Emily: “While crying and sniffling into your sleeve?”
Charlie: (sobbing) (desperately patting down her jacket) “SHE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS WHICH OF MY POCKETS HAS THE HANDKERCHIEF IN IT, OKAY??”
Emily: (smiling) “I think you two are going to be just fine.”
Charlie: (BLOWS NOSE LOUDLY INTO JACKET SLEEVE, which catches on FIRE)
Emily: “…..not your clothes, though. You might need a new set of those.”
213 notes
·
View notes
PLEASE tell me you have a snippet or something for Horatio and co zip lining on ley lines. I need it like BURNING
I laughed so hard I coughed you were so quick to send me this
Anyway please enjoy this 10-year vintage excerpt from the original Horatio & co Old Canon, from Horatio's perspective:
There's no real magic in him, just an affinity for mixing potions and using herbs…and the ability to see ley lines. For a split second he lets his eyes scan the sky for one of the tiny golden laser-streaks, and then tries to hide it by pretending he was rolling his eyes. Just a few feet over and up is his lifeline. But first...
[the part where we skip egregious James nonsense]
There. From the left side of his belt, opposite the omniblade, comes a half-baguette-shaped piece of metal. With a flick of the wrist its other half pops out, turning it into a zip line handle with a tiny open claw on the top where the pulley should have been. He holds it above his head with both hands, and it pulls him, painfully slowly, toward the ley line hovering several yards above him. He hears James running up behind him, glances over his shoulder, and upon seeing the bloody murder face again, this time dripping the bluish blood of an elfin body, he wills his ascent to go faster. Once he's on the line, speed is no problem. But he has too far to go before the line's negative charge will really take hold. This is going to be the end. When the panting bull of an Englishman behind him catches him he'll be dead within minutes, or maybe dragged back to the Gluronts to have his spirit trapped in one of their special jars forever. In any case, he can say goodbye to this body…
Horatio closes his eyes as he feels his old body's fingers slam into his back, and starts apologizing to everyone inside his head, one by one…
Then suddenly something clanks onto his ley latcher, and he looks up to find a big black feathery body towing him into the air. He looks down and sees his old self several yards below him, trying to catch hold of the foot flying away from him.
Thank you, he thinks, as he feels the latcher's tiny metal claw close on the ley line.
You're welcome, silly beast, says the bird in his head.
Zipping the last thirty feet to the ley line crossing over the dimension gate, he smashes the release button with his thumbs and drops square in the portal, right in front of James's bleeding face.
2 notes
·
View notes
ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER
Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru
wc — 600
tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance
Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower.
If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along.
“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room.
He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point.
Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees.
“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs.
“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.”
“I deserve it.”
“Gojo.”
You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much.
He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course.
He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve.
He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time.
“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“
“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow.
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down.
“Go get the hairdryer.”
Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it.
“Are you still mad?”
“Want to take a guess?”
He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand.
“I’ll never do it again, I swear.”
“You swear?” You’re teasing.
Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.”
“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?”
“Now you’re just being mean,” he says.
“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly.
You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying.
But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention.
“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?”
“And go through this again? You kidding?”
You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away.
“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.”
He knows you too well for you to disagree.
12K notes
·
View notes
ohmygod i have no idea how you manage to write about those characters so well fehjebhjeb i guess i'm riding the finale wave of excitement about lucifer so i wanted to ask if you're willing to write some nsfw headcanons about him? I absolutely agree he's way more submissive than he lets on and i loved your view on him being really vocal (curse u for opening my mind to the possibilities). How open do you think he would be about being pegged or having a general very praising dom loving his whimpering sounds of pleasure and just wanting to hear even more of them and what would get him to completely lose it
a/n — oh my gosh it’s funny you ask because i’ve actually already done smut headcanons
this request made me heavily consider just doing a fic where the reader pegs him but the people have decided on more nsfw hcs
i’ll still do that pegging fic tho..
˚ ʚ♡ɞ˚ This has been said before but it doesn’t take much to get him worked up.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ So coaxing those pretty noises out of him would be easy.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Especially if you bring up how noisy he is. He would be all flustered and embarrassed about it but then proof your point more by whining.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ About having a very praising dom— he absolutely loves it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He hasn’t been loved in so long that even if you guys aren’t fucking and you praise him he’d probably get really needy.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ If you degrade him too much I genuinely think he would cry because he literally tries so hard to please you it’s sad.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He will be so pathetic about it too and beg you to be nice again.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Edging would literally end him. Like I said he hasn’t gotten laid in a while so he definitely cums super fast.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I had an anon once say that he probably would before his clothes were even off and that’s so true because he is desperate.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He would be so embarrassed after that and probably ask you if you wanted to leave because he’s literally so ashamed oh my god.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ But of course you don’t leave and you give him all the love and praise he deserves in bed.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I don’t know if this is just a me thing but he needs love so bad I feel the need to give him 100% princess treatment in bed.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He really would want to please you and give back to you but maybe you just tie his hands together and tell him tonight was all about his needs.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Fuck him and praise him so that he wouldn’t even have to lift a finger— he would literally die under all the attention.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He whimpers A LOT like that’s probably the main noise he makes.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I think it would take a second for him to say anything but he is really into being pegged by you.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He would like to be on his back with his legs wrapped around your torso so he could see you while you fuck him.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He’s a little guy so it would be so easy to manhandle him. Which is good because that literally turns him on so much.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Like you could probably hoist him up by his thighs and fuck him against the wall as he clings to your neck.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Oh. My. God. He’s done for. He’s so incredibly touch starved that being held like that while being treated by your strap or dick would literally send him reeling.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ After really hard days with his depression I think it would also be really comforting for him to be treated like that.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ But make sure it’s gentle and loving because if it’s too rough he’ll worry you’re mad at him.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I wonder sometimes if he’d even sit on your lap while you fuck up into him. I mean I hope so because I highkey wanna breed this guy on my plastic dick.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He also loves when you sit on your face. He could literally just die between your legs it’s so crazy.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He could eat you out for literally hours especially if you’re moaning out praises while he does it because he really cares about making you feel good.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I think he’s the type of guy to moan while he eats you out because just the idea of pleasuring you is enough to make him cum untouched.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He’s a pussy eater, what can I say? You saw that one shot of him in the finale… with the two fingers? Yeah, you know what i’m talking about.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Also he moans like a bitch when you suck his dick. Loves the feeling of your warm, wet mouth on him.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He’ll start praising you while you do it but can literally only speak for like two minutes before he’s completely incoherent.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Mark him up well and noticeably because he loves silently letting people know that he’s lucky enough to get fucked by you.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He also can be incredibly smug. This guys KNOWS he’s adorable and he uses it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Maybe you’re telling him off for not taking care of himself one day and he’s just gazing up at you with big innocent ‘fuck me’ eyes.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Oh, but he knows what he’s doing and he knows it gets under your skin.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ You get fed up with it and end up pushing him down on whatever surface is nearest and fucking the life out of him.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Definitely edge him too for being such a fucking tease.
a/n — The lucifor brainrot is killing me. Anyways expect the pegging fic later today because I need him so bad <3
1K notes
·
View notes
warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol
"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"
You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.
"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.
You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.
Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.
You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.
Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.
"If not now, never, right?"
After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.
"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"
"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.
Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.
"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"
The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.
"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."
"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.
***
"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"
You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.
"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.
"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."
"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.
"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"
"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says:
"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."
"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.
You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.
The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.
12:00. Carpe diem.
"It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n."
***
"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"
"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client."
And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."
"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."
You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him.
"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.
"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.
"Angel's wings."
He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.
"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."
"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."
"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"
"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.
"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"
"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."
"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice.
"Thanks," you hang your head.
"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.
"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.
"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"
"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.
"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him.
"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.
You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.
The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.
***
You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.
He hums to himself. "Those are nice."
You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.
He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.
There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.
You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.
He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"
And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"
"A safeword. It's big."
W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.
"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"
1K notes
·
View notes