#also the person that wrote heatwave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Post activity is at the highest at 4:00 pm EDT; notes peak at 10:00 pm EDT.

#also the person that wrote heatwave

cherievol6 · 2 years

Text

crying in the backseat

DAMNNN this one hurt kind of. inspired by one of my fave lana songs ever. i wrote this really fast, so it’s not edited, but enjoy. also my uk girlies how are we dealing with this heatwave, i for one cannot move x

PART TWO IS NOW UP!

warnings: swearing, loving someone unattainable

word count: around 1000

"Let me at least get you a jumper, you're shivering." He muttered, unlocking his sleek black car in the car park and grabbing it from the boot. You feel embarrassment try and edge its way in, but you’re not regretful for barging into the bar and confronting Harry.

“Don’t try and pretend like you care about me right now, Harry.”

He slams the boot shut and looks at you with a frown. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I care about you.”

“Oh I’m sorry, skipping your best friend’s birthday meal for your ex-girlfriend’s party-”

“PR girlfriend.” He seethes.

“-deserves a fucking Saint’s award, my mistake.” You roll your eyes, turning your head away when he wraps the jacket over your shoulders.

“She told me it was a work thing! Something about some legal shit we need to re-sign about the whole PR thing.”

“And that couldn’t have waited?” You snap. “I shouldn’t have to find you in some random bar in Soho, whilst I’m already upset that the one person I wanted to show up tonight didn’t.” Your voice goes higher and higher in octave as you reach the end of your sentence, your throat closing up and sinuses blocking to prepare an outpouring of tears. You were gutted, especially after seeing his tattooed arm in the corner of a video of his ex girlfriend cheering and pouring shots whilst you were holding back tears at your birthday dinner.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” Sarah mumbles, prying your phone from your fingertips and glaring down at the phone with a stoned face.

“I thought he was at a meeting-” you say quietly, looking around to see if anyone noticed the commotion.

“Oh Y/N. I’m so sorry.” She panders you as you feel tears springing to their ducts. You fan your eyes discreetly and Sarah ushers you off to the bathroom.

“I can’t keep doing this. I think he has feelings for her, Sar.”

“You don’t know that, Y/N. Their relationship was to boost her new book, remember? If he had feelings for her, they’d be dating right now.” She says pointedly with an eyebrows raised, patting away your running mascara.

“Why are feelings so shit?”

“I don’t know, but I think life’s to short to not tell someone you love them. You might just get a surprise.”

“I’m sorry. How many times do I need to say it?” He pleads. “I genuinely thought this was a business meeting, that’s why I told you. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You don’t reply, looking out at the bustling streets and wiping your eyes.

“And how am I supposed to believe you? You’re not giving me much convincing evidence that you’re a reliable person, Harry.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes taking in your body closed off in defence, completely opposite to how relaxed and close you usually are with him.

"I think we should call a taxi." His voice breaks as he says it, sighing and tapping away on his phone, trying to ignore the tears that were free falling from your eyes.

You hug his sweatshirt closer around your body as the cries silently rack your body, he doesn't even stand close to you. His perfectly tailored suit mocks your feeble state and you feel the most out place you've ever felt. Here you are, crying your pathetic eyes out whilst Harry's watch is ticking down the time that he's away from his celebrity life, a private bar bustling with big names that mean so much more than you.

“Trying to get rid of me now?”

"What? No! You’re worked up and need to go home. Please stop crying." He softens, trying to reach out his arm. You scoff at his audacity to tell you to stop, when he was the perpetrator for your emotional state.

"Fuck off." You mutter, stepping away and trying to pull his jumper off you. He looks more than hurt at your words, but you can’t bring yourself to be nice to him.

"Stop it, for God's sake, it's too cold for you to be out here without a jacket." He huffs as he tugs the black zip up back over your shoulders despite your protests.

Moments of silence pass as the noise from the surrounding streets fills your ears.

“You need to learn your priorities, Harry.”

“You are one of my priories! You’re literally one of the only people, who isn’t my blood, that I care about.” He’s frustrated now, hands raking through his hair.

“Don’t spew that bullshit at me, if I was, you would have been there.” And you would love me back, you wanted to add, but couldn’t muster up the courage.

The tears begin to dry and you pinch the side of your thigh to shake yourself back to earth, trying to get your thoughts straight. You suck in a shaky breath and let out the final point you had been wanting to make for months after a multitude of occasions when Harry decided to prioritise his work over your commitments.

“Y/N-”

“I think we should put some distance between us for a bit. I need to get my head straight.” You say firmly through the stuffiness of your throat. He gapes, unable to come up with something to say, his own eyes brimming with tears.

“No, please. I don’t want to put distance between us, Y/N. You’re my best friend- I can’t do this without you, y’know.” His speech is frantic now. The word best friend drives an imaginary stake through the centre of your chest.

“You have other friends, Harry. Lots of other friends, that apparently you have more time for than me.”

The taxi, or rather, Harry’s casual chauffeur, mounts the gravel, signalling the end of a conversation.

“Y/N, let me come with you, I have something important to talk to you about-”

“I don’t want you to come with me.” You say quietly. I do.

“Please.” He tries again, eyes bloodshot and teary. This strikes up the waterworks in your body as well, and you simply shake your head, climbing into the back and slamming the door.

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry’s driver greets you through the mirror, and you smile back, asking him politely to take you home.

As he’s pulling out from the parking spot, you glance out the window with bleary eyes and jot tears streaming down your face, seeing Harry stood there like a ghost. His posture makes him seem defeated, eyes looking at the back window sadly, unable to see you through the blackout of the glass.

In the rear view mirror you see Jeff stalk outside, and although they’re far, you don’t miss him embrace Harry tightly, prompting you to look away and grip his jumper between your fingers, thinking about the words Sarah said to you.

PART TWO IS NOW UP!

1K notes · View notes

doomsday-dj · 5 days

Note

smut recs tho? 🥺👉👈

Okay. I've put this off long enough. By popular demand (five entire people which does seem like a lot) here are some Rizzles smut recommendations. I'm not outright tagging any authors this time because I don't need to be showing up in their activity page like "hi I enjoyed the sex you made."

Anyway, this is weirdly vulnerable. Writing smut for you? Totally fine. A blast. Love to do it. Love to hear all about how you liked it. Telling you what smut I read? Mortifying. Torture. But I'm gonna do it anyway. For the people.

I also feel like people are waiting for this like I'm going to drop a bunch of recommendations that are real graphic fuckin but the truth of the matter most of the time what I enjoy most is suspense, tension, anticipation, other words that mean mostly the same thing, and also big feelings (good and bad ones).

I'm not going to dwell too much on highly kudosed fics, but I do want to point out how insane it is that the top kudosed fic in the fandom BY A LOT (and locked to users only no less!!) was written by someone who wrote Rizzles one (1) time. They just casually crushed it while writing for like 50 different fandoms. They are a mystery and an enigma. And the fic is super hot, I love it.

Of course, we all know DanteBeatrice77 is the master of the E rated long fic. Your milage may vary on the daddy kink stuff, but it's always tagged (plus like who hasn't called/been called daddy a time or two? No? Oh okay, uh, my mistake). The only thing I'll say is that if you, like me, don't give one single shit about vampires, don't make the mistake of skipping on Cafuddàri. I was 100% ready to have my blood sucked after.

Frankly, many of the authors that I mentioned in the previous post also wrote my favourite smutty stuff. I realized this while going through my bookmarks. Turns out good writers are often good smut writers, who knew. If I mentioned them already and they have E and M fics, then read them. I recommend them. I am not singling anything out except to say that coolbyrne has a lot of highly kudosed fics but this one is woefully underrated and so intimate and perfect.

Now! On to some throwbacks from that other website. There's a surprising amount of smut on FF.net even with their puritanical rules. Plenty of it is in the category of very good but two fics that live inside me are the following: Warm Milk by YoDrDeath I almost feel bad putting this one in the smut post because I think it's exceptional way beyond that, but there's also, like, a whole lot of sex in it, so it also isn't wrong to put it here. I thought I didn't like second person POV until this fic. It's just GORGEOUSLY written. And hot. And vulnerable. And hot. I am fully obsessed with this fic. The whole point of this post is honestly to recommend this fic.

Teasers by MSonya This is billed as a collection of one shots and the first three chapters are (and they're very good) but then after that, it's a "one shot" that turns into a ten chapter story and within those chapters is some of the best hate sex I've read. You want to read about some FRAUGHT fucking? Yeah you do, don't lie. On AO3, here's some buried deeper in the kudos rankings that I think are great:

She's So Pretty (When She Goes Down On Me) by hopelesswanderer17 Just a good ol' fashioned super hot one shot.

Use Me by crackinois Butt stuff one shot.

heatwave (the nearness of you) by iamthegeneralissimo This is more build up than it is sex but it's good! Honestly it probably should have been in the other fic post but oh well. I'm going to stop there! But hopefully you enjoy.

#rizzles fanfic #rizzoli and isles fanfiction #ask doomsday

23 notes · View notes

thatsthewrongwallcraig · 8 months

Note

i know theres so much talk about bunny kappa, or just general bunny rory... but please, can we talk about puppy rory characters? i need my fill!! puppy danny? puh-leeeease bro. or even puppy gabe? possum... he just Is Puppy. i need some headcanons or something!!

Can we all take a moment to talk about puppy!Gabe because…uhm, I need him…like now?

Also, dearest nonnie, can I point you towards my Masterlist? I have three full puppy!Kappa fics on there. Closer, Worship I and Worship II <3

Please excuse this being a bit short but the current heatwave is not for me and just yesterday I wrote 3.6k words about Gabriel losing his virginity…my brain is in “power saving” mode.

Smutty puppy!Gabriel HCs under the cut! 18+!

🐶 Okay, let’s start with what plopped into my head first thing while thinking about it: Gabe would be the most playful and bubbly puppy ever! Oh, he’d be so happy to be your good little puppy boy at any given chance.

Gabriel would go full-on service sub-puppy, for sure! Being very attentive to your needs but especially your mood, always looking out for you after a long and hard day at work, determined to cheer you up if your coworkers were too dense to get anything even barely productive going again.

🐶 At first, he might have been a bit shy around the idea of wearing a collar 24/7 but after you bought him a very pretty one, made out of smooth black leather that would caress his neck just right, not too tight or itchy, he fell for it even harder than you did. In addition to that, you bought a fitting, silver dog tag with his name engraved on it to attach to the O-ring of the collar, making sure to remind him to whom he belonged all around the clock…but really? Gabriel wouldn’t need any reminder of that at all because he’d be all about you all day every day.

🐶 Whenever you’d come home stressed from work, he’d personally sit you down on the couch, get you a fizzy beverage of your liking straight from the fridge and proceed to go down on you whilst you decompressed from the hectic shift. I’m a firm believer that Gabe would get himself in an eager frenzy, getting oh so desperately worked up by just eating you out, the lower half of his face wet with your arousal would have him lapping at your clit like a man parched. This fine puppy boy right here would make sure to get you off good and at least twice before he’d let you get up from the cushioned sofa again, looking up to you from between your thighs with wide and beaming blue eyes, asking if you felt satisfied with his services.

At that, you’d pet his head thoroughly, letting him know just how much of a perfectly obedient and well-behaved puppy he was for you and how much you appreciate owning him as your puppy. You’d make sure to never take him for granted!

🐶 Oh lawd, don’t get me started on how excited Gabriel would be when he gets to fuck you. At first, he’d be so sweet and gentle with you, kissing you all over, needily sucking at your tits while his fingers draw over your clit to make sure that you are all wet and aroused enough for him to thrust into you but as soon as he is inside of you, stretching you out just the right way, hitting all your favorite spots with the tip of his throbbing cock, he’d go feral over you. Just fucking into you until you’d have forgotten all about your boss being a dickhead that day or the traffic jam on the way back home. Gabe would unceremoniously rail you. Don’t mistake that sweet sweet boy for being innocent in the sheets just because he looks like only doing missionary with the lights off. Nuh-uh!

🐶 On days when you had the luxury of working from home, Gabriel would insist on sitting underneath your desk while your fingers typed away on the keyboard, pleasuring you with his tongue throughout your shift while his fingers would massage you from the inside. Oh, he’d love you working from home because it meant getting you all to himself all day long, thinking about pouring you a nice, hot bubbly bath whilst knuckles-deep in your warm cunt, his fingertips rubbing against that extra sensitive spot just long enough for you to lose your focus and taunt him a little, a teeny tiny bit.

🐶 Thinking about it, I believe Gabe would not be into heavy degradation, no, he’d enjoy you praising him over and over much more. He’d take great pride in being your puppy, trying his best to avoid any shortcomings that would lead you to scold him. However, if that kind of situation was to arise, you’d correct him softly, gently pointing out what displeased you, and the hardest punishment (more of a funishment, really) he’d ever get from you would be going to the mall with you on the weekend while wearing a plug to fill him up all nice and snug as you occupy yourself with swatching eyeshadows, asking him which one’s he likes best. The green sparky one or the rather toned-down, chocolate brown one? Decisions, decisions…

Sweet Gabriel would try so hard to wrap his mind around the colorful swipes of makeup on the back of your hand but it would be to no avail. The way the plug pressed against his prostate just right, keeping his cock hard right out there, in public would have his face flushed with a wash of red for the entirety of the shopping trip, would have him begging and whining about needing to go to the restrooms to just quickly relieve himself of the pulsing hard-on in his pants. Oh, poor puppy, sucks to be you right now, no, Gabe? Tough luck but that sweet sweet release would have to wait until back at home.

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #gabriel 2014 #gabriel x fem!reader #gabriel x reader #gabriel smut #gabriel #puppy!gabriel

58 notes · View notes

cherryrogers · 1 year

Note

What about for cmb the group taking a weekend trip to the beach or something? Bucky sees her in her swimsuit and he’s shirtless and she’s 👀👀👀 and they’re very cute.

this ask is literally from over a year ago but here we are. cmb drabble time let’s go!!! (i wrote this literally months ago and forgot to post it but we ball 🫡)

Truthfully, you would’ve never guessed that the gang found enjoyment in a trip to the beach during summer. If the fact they were constantly in leather jackets and complaining when the temperature raised even slightly above 80 degrees told you anything, it’s that they’d much prefer to spend a warm summer’s day under the shade in the clubhouse garden, sipping on cold beers and actively trying not to catch any rays.

But one morning, you woke up in Bucky’s bed, as usual, except you also had Peggy standing over you like a sleep paralysis demon (a pretty one, obviously), and you forced yourself to squint open your eyes.

“Up and at ‘em, _____, come on!” She chirped, tossing a black bikini at your face. “We’re going to the beach.”

Groaning, you reached an arm out of the duvet, picking up the top garment and holding it up to inspect. “This could literally fit a build-a-bear.”

“Well it’s your size, and I told you you might need a swimsuit for the summer. Of course, I knew you wouldn’t bother buying one, so I got you one. You’re welcome,” Peggy said. She had a duffel bag over her shoulder, likely filled with enough sun cream to protect a whole group of bikers from the Friday heatwave. “Plus, I thought Bucky would appreciate it.”

You scoffed, flinging the top at your friend. “You’re so weird. Please focus on what your own boyfriend would appreciate, thanks.”

Peggy just chuckled, giving you a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

***

After setting down your beach towel and quickly rubbing some sun cream down your arms and legs, you plonked down on the towel and tugged off your tank top, about to apply some more to the rest of your skin.

The beach wasn’t so busy, since people were at work and kids were in school, so the gang set themselves up on a nice spot in the middle of long expanse of sand. Natasha was quick to put up a parasol and make sure she was completely in the shade. Sam and Clint had put down their towels and already started on the snacks that were meant to last them a good few hours. Steve was rubbing sun cream on Peggy’s shoulders while she leaned over a book, thick black sunglasses sitting on the bridge of her nose.

Next to you, Bucky already had his shirt off, laying idly under the sun with his eyes shut. Well, you thought they were shut, until your heard a wolf whistle from behind you.

You turned your head, and sure enough, Bucky was eyeing you. You snorted. “You literally see me naked, like, every day.”

“So? I can appreciate your divine beauty, with or without clothes.”

“Divine beauty. Thanks, Shakespeare, ” You snorted, passing him the bottle of sun cream. “Do my back?”

The biker took the bottle, popping it open and squeezing a fair amount into his hand. He sat up behind you, starting to rub the cream between your shoulder blades. Then down your spine, and lastly just above the waistband of your shorts. He finished with a pinch to your waist, to which you reacted by dodging the kiss he tried to plant on your neck after.

***

To iterate, you’re not the jealous type. Being jealous implies some insecurity on the jealous person’s part, and you weren’t insecure when it came to Bucky, because you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

But there’s a group of girls a few feet away, lounging under a parasol and giggling while looking directly at him, and frankly, you wanted to climb on top of him and show them who he belonged to.

He’s blissfully unaware, almost asleep under the sun. And it’s obvious why he has some ogling eyes; his tattoos are all on show, and the sun is casting light on his large arms and toned abdomen.

It’s Natasha who says what you’re thinking: “Looks like you have some admirers, Barnes.”

“And a guard dog.” Clint adds with a snort, looking directly at you.

You grab an empty plastic cup and chuck it at Clint’s head. “Call me a dog again, Barton. It’ll be a beer bottle next time.”

“The fuck are you guys talking about?” Bucky asks, still lying down with his eyes shut. The sun seems to make him tired; it’s rather endearing.

“Gaggle of giggling girls at three o’clock.” Peggy grins, pointing to the right of Bucky. He follows the woman’s hand, while you just want the ground to swallow you up. If Bucky even suspects you’re having a jealous moment, he won’t let you hear the end of it.

The girls don’t make an effort to be subtle, even when Bucky catches them looking. He turns his head to look at you, and the smirk that grows on his lips is telling enough of what he’s thinking.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Bucky.”

“You know, I really never thought I’d see the day—”

“No—”

“You’re jealous aren’t you, sweets?”

“I’m not jealous.” You insist, but Bucky only stares at you patiently, and you can’t help but crack under his gaze. You huff.

“They’re ogling you, Bucky. as if… as if you’re a piece of meat! It’s inappropriate.”

Bucky scoffs, though he sits up and moves to snake an arm around your waist, making goosebumps appear on your skin even under the hot sun.

“Then they can ogle at this instead.” He says quietly, before pulling you close and landing his lips on yours, and who are you to even think about pushing him away?

Your hand instinctively lifts to his jaw, caressing it with your thumb while he digs his fingers into the skin above the waist and of your shorts. You’ve never been one for PDA, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and making sure everyone on the beach knows that Bucky is all yours (for now, anyway) certainly calls for desperate measures.

“Jesus. There’s kids on this beach, you know.” You hear Natasha tease behind you, and you chuckle as you pull back, lips swollen and heart beating a bit faster than it was only seconds ago.

#sorry this is so short #i miss these idiots tho #also excuse the change in tense at the end i just cba to change it #bucky barnes x reader #cmbfanfic

89 notes · View notes

writing-for-life · 5 months

Text

We Are Made Of Star Matter

A couple of days ago, this post flitted across my screen, and it made me think about a piece I wrote three years ago. So I just thought I’d share some personal thoughts about autumn, aging, mortality and being connected. And I’m looking at it now and recognise that there are repeating themes in there that have always resonated with me, even when I was a lot younger. Plus, for my Sandfam: There's a lot in there that resonates in that way, too...

And don’t worry, it’s not depressing. At least I hope so…

Autumn

My daughter has started doing divisions at school. Recently, on our walk back home through a very autumnal park with fallen leaves everywhere, we talked about the seasons, and how many parts of a whole each of them are individually.

»You know, humans go through seasons in their lives, too. If you assumed someone would be 80 before they died, how long would every season of their life be?«

»20 years?« She does a quick calculation in her head. »Which means I’m still in spring!«

»Pretty much so. And where am I?«

She does the numbers again. »Autumn.«

Autumn

That season when nature moves from growth and abundance to going more inward and protecting its very essence. When the outer signs and displays of renewal and fertility begin to whither away…

It would be straightforward to feel a bit uneasy about that transition. And at times, I do. I look in the mirror and see those signs: The facial features that change. The body that transitions. The change of colours (more and more greys). The daily physical pain that’s been around for quite a few years, but that I rarely talk about.

A body that slowly but surely prepares for winter. Nothing can change that, no matter how much we wish for it. No matter how much the performing arts glorify youth. No matter how sexist, misogynistic and deeply rooted in patriarchy that is. No matter how much we might lament the visible transition, or even try to stop it outwardly. We can’t. The body will do its thing, just like nature does.

It’s not a binary one of two things: Embrace it or try to escape it. It’s both, and everything in between. There are days when I wonder where time went, and what the flip happened.

However, there are as many days when I can see and appreciate the beauty of autumn. The change of colours, the giving back to where I once was and came from. But also the turning inward, the concentrating on what really matters, the getting better at preserving energy instead of incessantly expending it, the shedding of what no longer serves me. And there is goodness and beauty in that. A sense of gratitude for not having to put on the often loud display of spring and summer that’s all about, you know, proving that you have something going for you. That you’re eligible, that you are good material for the survival of the species, whatever that means individually (because it can be interpreted in many ways that go far beyond reproduction)…

At the end of the day, mortality stares us in the face once we move from summer to autumn. But isn’t that strange — it’s always been there, not just when we transition into midlife and beyond. Just like the heatwave in summer that destroys life, or the floods, or the unexpected touch of frost in spring that ends what has just begun. If I were to share the fate of the last two generations of women in my family, none of whom lived much past 60 (or didn’t even reach it), I would not even be in autumn. I would have reached the winter of my life by now.

Pánta Rheî

And maybe that’s what’s truly important. Appreciating the beauty of movement, of ebb and flow, of impermanence. The fleeting moments, no matter how much we want to hold on to them — we have to let them go, just like the tree lets go of its leaves.

However, maybe we sometimes wish time stood still, if just for a moment. Time, that arbitrary human concept that is more about perception than anything else. And yet, it’s visible, graspable, and inescapable.

I recently watched Midnight Mass (»What a strange change of subject«, you might think, but bear with me). I was apprehensive about it because I usually don’t like horror, but this one surprised me because it had many very deeply philosophical moments I didn’t expect (NB: I am not religious in any shape or form, maybe what most people would call an agnostic atheist. I can see why religious people might not like it, or might even find it offensive).

There is a beautiful moment when Erin talks about dying I’d like to share with you (you might not want to read on if you feel it would be a spoiler).

We Are Made Of Star Matter

»Myself. My self. That’s the problem. That’s the whole problem with the whole thing. That word, self. That’s not the word. That’s not right, that isn’t…

How did I forget that? When did I forget that?

The body stops a cell at a time, but the brain keeps firing those neurons. Little lightning bolts, like fireworks inside, and I thought I’d despair or feel afraid, but I don’t feel any of that. None of it. Because I’m too busy. I’m too busy in the moment, remembering.

I remember that every atom in my body was forged in a star. This matter, this body is mostly empty space after all, and solid matter. It’s just energy vibrating very slowly while there is no me. There never was. The electrons of my body mingle and dance with the electrons of the ground below me and the air I’m no longer breathing. And I remember there is no point where any of that ends and I begin.

I remember I am energy. Not memory. Not self. My name, my personality, my choices, all came after me. I was before them and I will be after, and everything else is pictures, picked up along the way. Fleeting little dreamlets printed on the tissue of my dying brain. And I am the lightning that jumps between. I am the energy firing the neurons, and I’m returning. Just by remembering, I’m returning home. And it’s like a drop of water falling back into the ocean, of which it’s always been a part.

All things… a part. You, me and my little girl, and my mother and my father, everyone who’s ever been, every plant, every animal, every atom, every star, every galaxy, all of it. More galaxies in the universe than grains of sand on the beach. And that’s what we’re talking about when we say ‘God’. The cosmos and its infinite dreams. We are the cosmos dreaming of itself. It’s simply a dream that I think is my life, every time. But I’ll forget this. I always do. I always forget my dreams. But now, in this split-second, in the moment I remember, the instant I remember, I comprehend everything at once. There is no time. There is no death. Life is a dream. It’s a wish. Made again and again and again and again and again and again and on into eternity. And I am all of it. I am everything. I am all. I am that I am.«

Whether you are comfortable with this perspective or not, it is hard not to acknowledge some simple truths behind it. During every season of our lives, but especially during autumn and winter. Maybe it’s just not the truth we want to hear when we are focused on the self. We all are to a degree, and I think that’s also natural. We seek meaning. But isn’t that meaning there by default?

Maybe, just maybe, if we remembered the complicated simplicity behind it all, we would feel more at home. Within ourselves, but also in the world, and with each other.

Alas, “Life is a dream. It’s a wish.” …

#my writing #writing #writeblr #midnight mass #on aging #autumn #panta rhei #everything flows #Erin’s soliloquy

11 notes · View notes

jrob64 · 2 years

Text

Taking on Mrs. Jones - a Captain Swan Modern AU story

This one-shot was inspired by a prompt on the CSMM Discord which ended up lending itself to a request made by @cs-rylie after my ‘heatwave’ story A Pirate’s Guide to Surviving the Heat. She wanted to read more about Emma and Killian role playing with him wearing his red vest, so I wrote this as a birthday gift for her. It’s a little late, my friend, but I hope you still like it!

Thank you to @everything-person for sharing the prompt, @motherkatereloyshipper for working her magic to turn Killian into Silver Fox for this story, @kmomof4 for helping me plot out the story and @hookedmom for, you guessed it, being a rock star beta!

Story summary: Killian Jones loves his wife Emma and his job as a history professor. When Zelena Green joins the department, she makes Killian uncomfortable with her relentless flirting, but she’ll find out that it’s not wise to mess with Mrs. Jones’s man!

Rating: M (for smut)

Words: 9935

Also found on Ao3 and ffn

*********

“Hey, Babe. How was work?” Emma Jones asked her husband of seven months as soon as he walked in the door.

“It was, uh…it was okay,” Killian answered haltingly, crossing the room to kiss her.

She pulled back, studying him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “What have we planned for dinner?”

She knew a diversion when she heard one and could tell by his body language something was bothering him. “Uh-uh. Nice try, buddy. Did something happen at work today?”

He dropped his eyes and began rubbing at his jaw with his thumb under his chin. Seeing one of his telltale nervous habits, Emma began to get a little worried. She stepped closer to run her hands up his chest, looping her arms around his neck.

“Talk to me, Killian,” she crooned. “You know you can tell me anything.”

He gripped her hips and dragged his eyes up to meet hers. “You know how I told you there was a new professor starting in the history department this week?” At her nod, he continued, “Well, she’s…a bit…flirtatious.”

Emma wasn’t surprised in the least that another woman was attracted to her husband. When she met him as his grad assistant in college, she was so tongue-tied she could barely speak. With his strong, scruff-covered jawline, dark hair with streaks of silver, muscular body, and eyes the color of sapphires, he was the most exquisitely handsome man she had ever seen. Then, just when her brain reminded her she actually did know how to form words, he spoke to her and she was a goner. His smooth, British accent curled around every word and sent shivers racing down her spine.

As gorgeous as he was though, she never worried that he would ever want to be with another woman. He told her he had been completely smitten from the moment they met, and would always be unwaveringly faithful to her. She was the love of his life and he was hers, and when they eventually spoke their wedding vows, they both meant every word.

Her fingers feathered through the silver strands of hair at his temples. When they started dating after she finished her master’s degree four years ago, he planned to get the gray touched up. He reasoned that he was already twelve years her senior and didn’t want to appear even older, but she wouldn’t allow it. She adored the fact that he was turning into a ‘silver fox’ and paid special attention to those areas of his hair quite often.

“Did you hide from her in your office all day?” Emma teased, pleased to see it had the desired effect of making the tips of his ears turn red - another trait she found adorable.

“You could stroke a man’s ego by showing a little bit of jealousy, Swan,” he groused.

“There are a lot of things you have that I love to stroke,” she giggled. “Your ego does not happen to be one of them.”

He sighed dramatically, but couldn’t keep the corners of his lips from turning up. They had known each other for over five years, and dated for three before getting engaged. They knew each other in nearly every way possible, so he was completely aware she was secure in their relationship.

“Seriously,” she went on, “how exactly did she flirt with you and why did it bother you?”

“I’ll tell you as we prepare dinner,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

*********

Killian had just gotten to his office with his morning cup of coffee the first time Zelena approached him.

“Well, good morning neighbor,” she greeted loudly from his doorway. “My office appears to be right next to yours. I’m sure you remember seeing me when the department head’s assistant showed me around. In case you have forgotten, my name is Zelena Green. Yours is Dr. Killian Jones, is it not?”

He rose and walked around his desk to meet her. “Welcome, Professor Green,” he said, offering his hand. “And you are correct. Killian Jones, at your service.” He wasn’t impressed that she remembered his name, especially since it was on the plaque beside the door.

She shook his hand with both of hers, holding on for longer than necessary. “Please call me Zelena,” she simpered with a wicked smile on her bright red lips.

He refrained from wiping his hand on his trousers once she finally released it. “Well, Zelena, if you, um, if you have any questions, just let me know,” he said, resuming his seat behind his desk.

“Oh, I most definitely will,” she grinned, standing in the same spot several moments longer, before finally disappearing down the hall.

Killian was still checking his emails ten minutes later when Zelena’s face appeared around the doorframe once again. “Killian, would you be a dear and show me how to scan and email a document?” she asked in a sickly sweet voice.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, minimizing his mailbox and rolling his chair away from his desk. He followed her to the copier room, wondering if she always had that much sway to her hips as she walked.

As he pointed out how to enter her copier code, where to place the document, and how to type the email address into the little keyboard which pulled out from the front of the machine, she stood as close to him as possible, her shoulder brushing against his.

He finished his explanation and turned to go, but she reached out and wrapped her hand around his forearm. “Oh, please stay to make sure I do it right, Killian,” she purred.

Attempting to wiggle out of her grasp, he replied as politely as he could, “It’s really not that difficult, Ms. Green.”

“Now, Killian, I told you to call me Zelena. We are going to be working together very, VERY closely and it just won’t do for us to be so formal with each other.”

He swallowed down his agitation. “Very well, Zelena. I’ll stay to make sure you get the document sent correctly, but then I really must get back. I have to verify my class lists and begin preparing my lessons.”

“Oh, poo,” she scoffed. “Classes don’t start for another two days. You have plenty of time to get ready.”

“That’s not the way I operate,” he stated. “Now, if you would be so kind…” Gesturing toward the copier, he raised his brows at her, clearly indicating his wish for her to proceed.

Giving him another toothy smile before turning back to the machine, she took her time placing the document on the glass, adjusting it several times before finally closing the lid and hitting the scan button. Then she pulled out the keyboard and slowly entered the email, looking at the slip of paper on which it was written after every letter.

Anxious to return to his office, and get away from Zelena, Killian gritted his teeth every time she bumped her hip into his. Finally, with the document scanned and emailed, he said, “See? Nothing to it.”

Her hand fastened around his arm again. “I’m never any good at figuring out these machines. You must be a very good teacher, Dr. Jones.”

“Well, that’s why they pay me,” he replied blandly.

Her raucous laughter grated on his nerves as he exited the room.

*********

“Did she leave you alone after that?” Emma asked, cutting the tomatoes into wedges before adding them to the salad.

Killian reached around her to take a paring knife out of the block, leaving a kiss on her cheek as he did. “I would love to tell you she did, but I wasn’t that fortunate.”

*********

Killian was in the staff lunch room, chatting with his colleague Jasmine as they ate, when Zelena marched into the room.

“Oh, goody! I’m just in time! I hate eating by myself.” She pulled a gaudy green lunch bag out of the refrigerator and plopped down in the chair beside Killian, scooting it closer to him in the process.

He gave Jasmine an apologetic look. “Have you met the new addition to our staff?” he asked her.

Before she had a chance to answer, Zelena spouted, “Oh, yes. I met everyone this morning. You’re Josephine, right?”

“Actually, it’s Jas-” Jasmine attempted to correct.

“How are the lesson plans coming along, Killian?” Zelena interrupted, knocking her elbow against his as she removed a container of yogurt from her bag. “Oh, drat. I seem to have forgotten my napkin. May I borrow one of yours, Josephine?”

She stood from her seat and leaned across the table, positioning her ample cleavage mere inches in front of Killian’s face.

What followed was a very awkward lunch, with Zelena dominating the conversation, practically ignoring Jasmine, and touching Killian every chance she got. At one point, she dropped her hand to the inside of his thigh, giving it a squeeze. He nearly jumped out of his seat at the unexpected contact. Quickly, he pushed away from the table, and declared that he was finished eating, then left the room, his face burning with embarrassment and annoyance.

*********

Emma squeezed his wrist above his prosthesis as they sat down to eat at their dining room table. “My poor lover,” she sympathized. “Maybe once the newness of being around you wears off, she’ll stop flirting with you.”

Killian let out a deep sigh. “I hope so. I don’t want to have to fend off her advances every day.”

Emma wasn’t at all jealous of the brash woman, but hated that she was changing the pleasant atmosphere of her husband’s workplace into one he might begin to dread.

As she sprinkled sunflower seeds on her salad, she asked, “Did she bother you at all after lunch?”

He swallowed his bite of salmon before answering, “I had a meeting with my new grad assistant for most of the afternoon, so she didn’t have much of a chance.”

She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “What’s your new ‘grad ass’ like? Anyone I should be worried about?” she smirked.

“Only if you’re threatened by a twenty-six year old man with a wife and toddler. You know there will only ever be one grad whose ass I love,” he said, his dimples flashing.

“Yeah, I do,” she assured him. “It was just a one time thing that will last for the rest of our lives.”

Once dinner was finished and the kitchen set to rights, Emma asked to see Killian’s class schedule. The museum where she worked as curator was close to campus, so they always tried to find at least one day during the week to meet for lunch. She found a mutual time period on Tuesdays and they entered it as a recurring event in their phones.

When she noticed he had clicked from his schedule to his lesson plans, she reached over and shut his laptop. “All work and no play makes Dr. Jones a dull boy,” she sing-songed.

He set the computer on the end table and turned back toward her. “What kind of play did you have in mind, Mrs. Jones?” he asked with a knowing smirk. His wife had an almost insatiable libido and he was more than happy to satisfy it.

“Mmm, let me see,” she hummed, climbing into his lap to straddle him. Immediately, she felt his cock beginning to swell against her thinly covered core. “I was thinking maybe we could play the princess and the pirate.”

Killian’s grin stretched across his face. As a history buff, he had a small collection of period clothing, and one of Emma’s favorites was a red, double breasted, brocade vest which she insisted made him look like a pirate captain.

His hand and prosthesis moved to her hips. “Is the princess my captive, or has she boarded my ship on her own accord?”

She threw her head back and closed her eyes, the back of her hand resting against her forehead as if she felt faint. “Oh, I simply couldn’t take staying in that stuffy old castle another moment,” she sighed theatrically. “I just had to stow away on your ship, seeking adventure on the high seas.”

“Well, milady, if it’s adventure you seek, adventure you shall have.” Pulling her tightly against him, he stood to his feet and swiftly made his way to their bedroom, while her fingers tangled in his hair and her tongue traced the shell of his ear.

He deposited her on the bed, then unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. Moving to the closet, he emerged a few minutes later dressed in a black shirt with billowy sleeves, and the red vest.

“No leather pants?” she pouted.

“Removing my jeans and getting into my leathers seems like too much work,” he explained, “especially in my…condition.” He gestured toward the noticeable bulge beneath his zipper.

Shifting into character, Emma crawled across the bed to kneel on it in front of him. “I can help you with that problem, Captain,” she purred.

“You’re the cause of this problem, Princess,” he growled, reaching forward to twist a lock of her blonde hair around his finger.

Her hands stretched toward his chest, but he batted them away. “Ah, ah, ah, Princess,” he barked, his voice deeper than usual. “You might be royalty on your shores, but here, you are a mere stowaway, so let me tell you how it works on my ship. I make the demands, you follow them, and if you desire anything, you must ask with all due respect to your Captain.”

He watched her pupils dilate with desire. These were roles they had played several times over the years and it always turned her on immensely.

Acting on his instructions, she dropped her head and looked up at him through her lashes. “Please, Captain, may I have permission to touch you?”

He widened his stance and folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head and poking his tongue into his cheek as he considered her request. Finally, his left brow raised high on his forehead and his glower morphed into a sly grin. “You may touch me, but only with one hand,” he lifted his left forearm to show her that he had replaced his prosthesis with a metal hook, “for that is all I will use to touch you.”

“Yes, Captain, but if I may…” He nodded for her to continue. “I would not mind you touching me with your hook. In fact, I think it would be quite…enjoyable.”

Killian saw the flush of desire creeping up her chest and throat into her face. She was still dressed in a simple V-neck blouse and leggings, but he didn’t want to interrupt their role play to allow her to change.

Unfolding his arms and stepping closer, he replied, “As you wish,” then slid the hook up her bare arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Emma’s right hand slid up the front of his vest, toying with the brass buttons. When she reached his skin, her nails scratched into his dark chest hair, flecked with gray.

His hook found its way to her neck, pushing strands of hair over her shoulder. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to the newly exposed skin and sucked. Knowing he was leaving a mark gave him a thrill and he left two more just above her collarbone.

“Captain,” she moaned, “may I touch you with my mouth?”

“Not yet,” he mumbled against her throat.

She grumbled about his answer and he pulled back to look at her. “Is the Princess complaining?”

“No, Captain, it’s just that you’re bringing me so much pleasure, I want to reciprocate.” He kept his intense gaze on her for several seconds, until she began to squirm. “C-Captain, please. I meant no disrespect,” she assured him, bowing her head.

“Remove your garments,” he ordered. As she quickly crossed her arms and reached for the hem of her shirt, he added, “Slowly! I want to savor seeing every inch of that creamy skin as you expose it.”

Swallowing hard at his seductive tone, she dragged her blouse up her body, feeling his hungry eyes on her the entire time. Once her shirt was tossed on the floor, she wasn’t sure whether to remove her bra or her leggings next.

Sensing her indecision, Killian stepped forward to trace his finger across the cup of her royal blue bra. “I would like to see the treasure hidden underneath this,” he murmured.

She reached behind her back to unhook the undergarment, her eyes never leaving his face. She adored how he still looked at her with a mixture of love and lust, even after being together for several years. When the bra was unfastened, she dipped her shoulders to shrug out of it, letting it drop to the bed.

Killian licked his lips, his eyes darting up to hers for a fraction of a second before returning to her breasts. He brushed his fingertips over her already hardening nipples, bringing them to sharp peaks. “Bloody glorious,” he whispered.

Emma stayed still, awaiting his next command while enjoying the sensations he was creating. His hand fondled her left breast, his hook lifting the right so he could dip his head and suck the nipple into his mouth.

Her head fell back, moans moving up her throat. They doubled in intensity when his gravelly voice vibrated against her sensitive skin, “Do you like that, Princess?”

“Y-yes, Captain,” she answered breathlessly.

His hook glided down her belly, the cool metal producing shivers throughout her body. He slid it under the waistband of her leggings and down to the apex of her thighs, rubbing it against her mound. “You have pleased your Captain, so I’m going to give you a choice. Shall I fuck you with my fingers and hook, or my cock?”

Emma’s hooded eyes found his and he nearly broke character seeing how black with wanton passion they were. “Can I choose…both?” she asked in a small, wary voice.

“No!” he barked. “One or the other, greedy lass!” He could see the desperate indecision in her expression and softened a bit. “However…you may earn that reward, if you make the right choice.”

She bit her lip in contemplation for several moments, before quietly saying, “Please fuck me with your fingers and hook, Captain.”

He grinned salaciously. “You have chosen wisely.”

A tingle of excitement zipped through her. “What must I do to earn the reward?” she inquired eagerly.

“You will have to wait and see. Now, bare yourself completely for your Captain.”

She clambered off the bed to hurriedly shed her leggings and underwear, standing naked before him on legs trembling with anticipation when she finished.

He sauntered over and stood before her, his thumb hooked over his belt buckle as he looked her up and down. “Lovely,” he breathed. “Now, if you can undress me, you will get what you are craving.”

Emma grinned, happy the reward was going to be easily earned. Her hands reached toward his belt, only to be knocked away once again.

“If you cannot follow the rules, you will get nothing!” he spat.

Her lust hazed brain tried to remember what rule she was breaking. As it finally dawned on her, she tucked her left arm behind her back and gave him a questioning look.

“That’s better,” he confirmed. “You may only use one hand, but…” she looked at him expectantly, “you may use your mouth, if you wish.”

Licking her lips, she grasped the end of his belt and tugged, pulling it loose before tucking it through the buckle. Glancing up at him, she bent to take the leather between her teeth and moved backwards to pull it free of the belt loops. It took her a frustratingly long time to pop the button of his jeans using only one hand, but she made quick work of lowering the zipper over his hardened cock.

Instead of pushing his pants down his legs, she straightened up and began unbuttoning his vest. The brass buttons were easier to push through the soft material and she soon had all of them undone. The small shirt buttons were next and she huffed in annoyance before starting on them.

He was growing impatient, anxious to touch her again, the scent of her arousal hitting his nose and making him ache with need. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, he stepped away from her, shrugging out of the vest and stripping off the shirt, then shoving his jeans down, leaving him in only his boxers.

“Now, finish the job, Princess,” he ordered.

Her hand darted out toward the elastic of his underwear, but she pulled it back at the last second. After throwing him a sultry look, she took the waistband in her teeth and lifted it over his swollen erection, dropping to her knees to drag the boxers down his legs. Her hand pushed them over his ass, which she then squeezed.

He used his fingers to tilt her chin up, making her look at him. “Ha-have I earned my reward, Captain?” she asked, her eyes pleading with him.

“Aye, Princess, you have,” he said hoarsely. “Get on the bed. Hands and knees.”

Her eyes widened, understanding his meaning. A slow smile spread across her face and he answered with one of his own. He was quite aware it was one of her favorite positions.

She climbed onto the bed and positioned herself in the middle of it, looking back at him over her shoulder as she swayed her ass back and forth.

He knelt behind her on the mattress, running his hand and hook over the perfect globes in front of him. As his hook slid through the cleft, he bent forward to hold his index finger to her mouth. “Open,” he demanded. She obeyed immediately, sucking and licking his finger when he inserted it, knowing he wanted it to be nice and wet.

Once he was satisfied, he brought his hand back, briefly rimmed her puckered hole, drawing a moan from her, then slid his finger through her folds. She was already slick and ready for him, but he decided to tease her a bit first. He could hear her draw in a breath every time the tip of his finger brushed her opening, but he stopped short of pushing inside. Instead, he bumped it against her clit before drawing it back slowly, over and over. He heard the wet sounds and smelled the strong scent of her arousal.

Deciding to add his hook to the foreplay, he brought it between her legs and began rubbing it against her clit. The effect he was having on her was apparent in the way her thighs were shaking and by the quick gasps coming out of her mouth.

“Killian…” she panted.

He jerked both his hand and hook away immediately.

“Fuck!” she cursed in exasperation, her need for him clouding her brain.

Wanting to bring her attention back to their game, he slapped her lightly on the ass. “Princess,” he growled menacingly, “am I going to have to gag you?”

Suddenly, she realized her mistake. “No, Captain! I’m sorry! I…it won’t happen again!”

He slapped her again, making her jump. “See that it doesn’t, or as punishment, you will have to watch me pleasure myself as you remain bereft of my touch.”

She groaned at the thought. Even though it turned her on to see him stroking himself, to be deprived of his promised rewards would be torture. “Yes, Captain. I understand.”

Satisfied, he resumed his actions, slipping his fingers and hook through her slick folds a few more times until he finally pushed two fingers inside her. She whimpered and thrust her pelvis backwards, seeking even more friction.

He rested his left arm across her lower back and began plunging his fingers in and out of her in earnest. Her hands gripped the sheets until her knuckles were white, her mouth emitting a string of pleading moans. “Pleeeeease, Captain! Oh, pleeease!”

Adding a third finger, he leaned forward and whispered hotly into her ear, “Tell me what you’re begging for, Princess. I want to hear those filthy words falling from that pretty, little mouth.”

She drew in a ragged breath before gasping, “Please, use your hook…make me come. Make me fucking come!”

He grinned and did as she asked, lightly grinding the curve of the hook against her clit as his fingers continued bringing her pleasure. Her arms could no longer hold her and she dropped her head to the mattress. Seeing how close she was, he increased the pressure on her bundle of nerves and she fell apart with a scream of “Yes, yes!”

A wave of frantic need rushed through his body as her walls clamped tightly around his fingers. Pulling them free, he wrapped them around his engorged shaft and lubricated it as he stroked. Grabbing her hips, he plunged inside her.

She widened her stance and turned her head to the side, her searching hands finding a pillow to grip. The sight of her tightly closed eyes and open mouth, puffing out guttural sounds with every thrust he made, had his orgasm slamming into him much sooner than expected. His hot seed shot deep into her as he jerked and rutted against her.

Completely spent, he pulled the brace and hook off of his arm and tossed it on the floor, then withdrew and gently eased her to the mattress. Laying down beside her, he tenderly brushed sweaty, tangled strands of hair out of her face, waiting for her eyes to open. When they did, his breath caught at the depth of love and bliss he saw there.

“You alright, Love?” he asked.

“Mmm, yeah, I’m good,” she murmured. “Really good.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he worried.

She brought her hand up to cup his cheek, her thumb softly caressing his bottom lip. “You could never hurt me, my love. I trust you completely. I always feel very comfortable asking you to role play with me.”

His dimpled smile was one of relief and admiration. “I’m glad you do because it’s extremely enjoyable for me.”

She gave him a sleepy smile, and he kissed her briefly, then rolled to the side of the bed. “I’ll get a warm cloth for you, Sweetheart.”

Once he cleaned her and himself, he got their pajamas out of the dresser. They donned them, then cuddled together under the covers, sharing kisses and murmuring endearments into each other’s skin.

Killian was nearly asleep when he heard Emma mumble, “You’re mine, Killian. No one and nothing will ever take you away from me.”

“Aye, that’s right, Love. I’m yours forever. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she yawned, then fell asleep in his arms.

*********

It seemed working with Killian daily did not cause Zelena to back off. Nearly every evening when he came home, he shared another story of her flirtatious behavior.

“I don’t know what else to do,” he complained to Emma one evening as they relaxed on the sofa together after dinner. “I blatantly twist my wedding band around my finger when talking to her, I put our wedding photo in a prominent spot on my desk where she’s sure to see it when she stops in, and I talk about you all the time. She has to know that I’m very happily married, but it doesn’t phase her.”

“Maybe she’s just that way to every man,” Emma suggested.

“No, I’ve seen her interactions with other men in our department and she acts nothing like that around them. She’s usually very snarky and keeps her distance. Some of the other staff members have even started making remarks about how flirty she is with me.”

She sat up and looked at him. “Do you think you should report her for sexual harrassment?”

He sighed. “I’ve thought of that, but honestly, she hasn’t done anything truly inappropriate; it’s just innuendos and brushing up against me, but never in areas that are strictly off-limits. I don’t want to be downright rude, but I’m not sure how to navigate this short of filing a formal complaint.”

Emma brushed his wayward hair off his forehead then bent to press her lips to it. “If I know my husband, and I do, you don’t want to hurt her feelings by saying anything, but I think it’s time you do. You shouldn’t have to put up with unwanted comments and being touched.”

Heaving another deep sigh, he agreed, “I guess you’re right. I’ll do that next time.”

“Good,” she said, laying her head back down on his chest. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

*********

Two days later he came home and reported that it hadn’t gone well.

“Why? How did she respond?” his wife asked, brows furrowed. The woman was beginning to really get under Emma’s skin. As Killian related the story, her anger started to build. She didn’t see Zelena as a threat to their marriage, but she could see how much it bothered Killian and she wanted it to stop.

*********

“Killian, would you be an absolute dear and help me with my computer?” Zelena said, striding into his office five minutes after his final class of the day ended. “It keeps kicking me off of the Wifi.”

“That sounds like a job for the tech team,” he replied, not looking up from his computer screen, where he was answering an email from one of his students.

She clicked her tongue. “You know how they are - you put in a request and it takes them forever to get back to you.”

“Ask for Jeff. He always shows up as soon as I make a request,” Killian informed her, his fingers still pecking away at the keyboard.

He hadn’t even realized she was behind him until her hand came down on top of his to stop his movements. He sucked in a breath and bit back a sharp retort.

“But I just know you can fix the problem in a heartbeat,” she simpered. “Won’t you please try for little old me?”

Withdrawing his hand from underneath hers, he rolled his chair to the side and spun it around to face her. “Look, Zelena, fixing computers really isn’t my area and I find it very uncomfortable how you’re invading my personal space right now.”

She brought a hand up to her chest as she gave a surprised gasp. “Oh, Dr. Jones, I never meant to make you uncomfortable! How very thoughtless of me!” Instead of moving away from him, she leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up and making her ample cleavage more apparent. Her eyes bore into his until he swallowed and looked away. When he did, she barked out a short laugh and quipped, “There’s no reason to be afraid of me, you know. I’m just being…friendly.” Pushing herself away from his desk, she walked her fingers up his bicep to his shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, he reached up and used his index finger and thumb to lift her hand away. “I would very much appreciate it if you would keep your hands to yourself. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a happily married man.”

Laughing again, she walked around his desk, turning to him in the doorway to say, “I really don’t see that as a problem, Dr. Jones.”

*********

Emma’s blood boiled. Was that woman really saying she had no regard for the sanctity of their marriage? It certainly sounded like she meant to continue making the moves on Killian, in spite of him telling her to stay away from him.

“What are you going to do?” she asked her husband.

He shrugged. “I guess I’ll just keep rebuffing her and hope she finally gives up. She’s rather like a gnat - annoying, but not any kind of threat. You know my heart belongs to you.”

“Yeah, and your body, too,” she replied, sliding her hand up inside his shirt and along his ribcage.

“Every. Single. Part. Of. Me,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss.

*********

Killian was scheduled to attend a three-day conference in Denver during Fall break and Emma cleared her work calendar to go along with him. They planned to stay two more days after the conference was over to spend more time alone together and do some sightseeing.

Then he came home and told her Zelena Green also planned to attend the same conference.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma lamented. “Can you not get away from that witch?”

“The good news is she’s on a different flight with the other staff members who are going,” he informed her. “However, she did send me an email asking for my cell phone number so she can contact me while we’re there.”

“She doesn’t already have it? I thought there was a staff directory with all that information.”

“There is, but apparently she hasn’t discovered that yet. It really won’t do her much good anyway because the number in there isn’t correct. Remember how we switched numbers when we added your phone to my plan? I never changed it in the directory.”

Inspiration struck Emma. “Does she know I’m going with you?”

“Nobody does. I didn’t think it was any of their business.”

“Good. Don’t change the number in the directory and tell Zelena she can find your number there,” she grinned. “I have a plan.”

He tilted his head and raised a brow. “Just what are you plotting, my devious wife?”

Giggling, she said, “Let me have some fun with her and maybe when this trip is over, she’ll finally leave you alone.”

*********

After Killian sent the email telling Zelena his number was in the directory, she wasted no time sending a text, which went through to Emma’s phone while she was still at work.

Z: I’m trying to contact Dr. Jones. Please let me know if I have the correct number.

E: You do.

Z: I’m looking forward to going to this conference. It will be nice spending time with you away from campus.

E: Please use this number for professional purposes only.

Z: LOL! Whatever you say, Dr. Jones!

Emma forwarded the conversation to Killian, who replied by sending an eye-rolling emoji.

*********

Killian and Emma arrived in Denver early Monday afternoon a day before the conference. He knew the other three members of the history department, including Zelena, wouldn’t check into the hotel until that evening, having taken a later flight.

The couple had discussed Emma’s ideas for showing the bothersome woman how much they loved each other, hopefully convincing her to stop her flirtatious behavior. To make it happen, they had to use the element of surprise, which meant none of his colleagues could know Emma was with Killian. He wasn’t keen on the idea, not wanting her to have to stay in the hotel room while he spent time with the others, but she assured him she had plenty to do for work and didn’t mind having time to herself to watch movies and catch up on sleep.

In the meantime, they decided to take advantage of their hours alone in the city. They walked hand-in-hand through the streets, enjoying the crisp Autumn air as they window shopped, enjoyed a steak dinner and found a bakery that offered them a variety of sweet treats.

Once they were back in their hotel room, relaxing as they watched Monday Night Football, Emma’s phone dinged with a text. Reading it, a grin slowly spread across her face. “And so it begins,” she said, showing it to her husband.

Z: Just got to the hotel, safe and sound. I’m so happy I have a room to myself. How is your room?

E: It’s a typical hotel room. I’m glad all of you arrived safely.

Z: I might unwind by watching a movie. You’re welcome to join me.

E: No, thank you. Please remember that I’ve asked you to use this number only for professional reasons. I’m expecting to talk to my wife very soon.

Z: Gotta stay in touch with the old ball and chain, huh? LOL!

Emma read the message and scoffed. “I’m not even going to send a response to that.”

“Grand idea, Love,” Killian said, taking her phone and tossing it into the chair across the room. “Now, I’d really like to do what she said and stay in touch with my ball and chain.”

Her giggles at his words soon turned to moans when he used his mouth much more pleasurably.

*********

Killian hated leaving Emma alone when he left the hotel room early the next morning. He wanted to at least eat with her, but the conference was providing breakfast and lunch and he knew his colleagues would wonder why he was eating in his room if he didn’t join them. They settled on having a cup of terrible coffee together from the two-cup coffee maker in the room.

She assured him she had plenty of work to do on her laptop preparing for an upcoming event at the museum, kissed him goodbye, and sent him on his way. As soon as he entered the great hall where the first session would be held, Zelena spotted him and drew his attention by standing, waving madly and shouting, “Over here, Killian!”

Making his way across the room, he felt his face heating as many heads turned his way to see the target of the outburst. He sat in the seat beside Archie, not missing the pout Zelena sent his way because he chose not to sit beside her.

After the opening session, they broke into groups to attend workshops and Killian was relieved to find he was in a different room than Zelena. It was short-lived however, as fifteen minutes after the presentation started, Zelena slid into the vacant chair to his left, loudly whispering that her workshop was ‘as dry as the Mojave Desert’.

Killian tried to stay focused, purposely ignoring her when she kept asking him to explain what the speaker was talking about. He suffered through lunch with her, enduring smirks from Jasmine and Archie, then excused himself to go to the restroom before the afternoon session.

Instead, he went back to his room, breathing a sigh of relief when he was on the other side of the door. He found Emma sitting cross-legged on the bed, her laptop in front of her. She looked up and gave him a beaming smile.

“If I sat like that to work on my computer, I’d have to go to the chiropractor for two weeks,” he laughed.

Hopping up off the bed, she hurried around it to envelop him in a hug. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you until late this afternoon.”

He kissed her temple and muttered against her hair, “I needed a break.”

“From Witchy-poo?” she asked cheekily.

Sighing, he nodded his head and told her about Zelena’s antics that morning, adding, “I really wish Tom hadn’t backed out of this conference. That’s the only reason she was able to come.”

She squeezed him tighter, then pressed her lips to his, murmuring her apologies against them once the kiss ended. When her phone vibrated on the bedside table, she kissed him again, then turned to pick it up.

After glancing at the screen, she bit her lip, trying to hide her mirth.

“What now?” he asked.

“She wants to know what’s taking you so long.”

“Oh, for the love of fuck,” he groaned.

“Do you want me to answer?”

He checked the time on her phone. “No, I’ve got to get back anyway. The next session starts in ten minutes. I’m going to go straight to the room so she won’t know where I am. I feel like I’m playing hide-and-seek.”

She laughed and kissed him one more time before turning him toward the door. “Well, I hope you win, Babe.”

“I already won when I married you,” he quipped.

She giggled. “You’re such a nerd.”

“And you love me for it.”

“Mmhmm, and I’ll be waiting right here to show you how much when you get back,” she said, pinching his ass.

“Bad form, Swan. Now that’s all I’m going to think about for the rest of the afternoon,” he growled.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I said it,” she smirked.

He spun around and pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly and leaving her breathless. Then he went out the door, throwing her a shit-eating grin before closing it behind him.

*********

He got through the afternoon workshop without Zelena joining him, but when it was almost over, he got a text from Emma.

E: Thought I would send you this conversation I just had with the witch.

Z: This day has been so dreadfully boring and long. Why don’t we meet this evening for a drink?

E: No, thank you. Jet lag is setting in and I want to get my notes organized from today. Please remember that I’ve asked you to send only professional texts to my phone.

Z: How could I forget? You really need to loosen up a bit, Dr. Jones.

Killian glanced around the room, then tapped out a quick response.

K: Did you end it there?

E: Yeah, I didn’t dignify that with a response.

K: You did well, Love.

The session ended a few minutes later. He sent a text to his colleagues telling them he was ordering in for dinner, then headed straight up to his room, where he and Emma spent a very enjoyable evening together.

*********

The second day of the conference was fairly uneventful and Killian thought he had gotten by without being propositioned by Zelena, but when the group of colleagues met after the last session, they decided to go out to eat together. He knew if he declined again, they might start to feel offended, so he texted Emma.

K: They want to go out to eat this evening. I don’t want to go, but I don’t really have a good excuse to give them.

E: Just go with them, Babe. I’m sure you have a lot to discuss about everything you’ve heard over the last two days. It’s not a big deal. I’ll just call DoorDash. I’ll miss you, but I’ll see you soon.

K: If you insist, but you know I would rather be with you. I love you.

E: I do know and I love you, too.

*********

Killian did end up enjoying dinner and the conversation with his fellow professors. Towards the end of the meal, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and surreptitiously checked it under the table.

E: Z just sent you an invitation to have a drink with her by yourselves after the others have gone to their rooms.

He excused himself to go to the restroom, knowing it would be difficult to answer her at the table. Once he had some privacy, he called his wife. “Did you answer her?” he asked.

“Not yet. Do you want me to mess with her or just make up an excuse?”

“How would you mess with her?”

“Tell her you’ll have a drink, lead her on a little to set her up for meeting me?”

Killian considered for a few seconds. “No, I think I would rather do that tomorrow before she leaves the next day. Besides, I’ve been away from you far too long already, Love.”

“I won’t argue with that,” she agreed. “I’ll fire off a text to her, then. She’s probably wondering why you haven’t responded to her yet.”

“I’m sure she is. I’ll wait in here until you send it. See you in a few, Sweetheart.”

A minute later, he got another text.

E: Okay, told her you want to watch the hockey game and get a good night’s sleep. She sent a frowny face emoji. BTW, I didn’t mention she should only use your phone for professional reasons again. Make her think you’re letting your defenses down a little.

K: You’re bloody brilliant, Swan.

When he returned to the table, Zelena had a distinct pout on her face and he faked a cough to hide his laugh.

*********

“Are you really okay with this plan, Love?” Killian asked the next morning before heading down to the conference.

The evening before, they discussed again how they were going to handle Zelena and hopefully stop her advances once and for all. It depended on her once again asking him to get a drink with her, and they were sure she would play right into their hands.

“Yeah, I have a really good feeling this is going to work,” she replied, then sent him off with a kiss.

*********

After three days of workshops and speakers, the group of colleagues agreed they were ready to relax in their rooms before getting up early to go to the airport. Killian still hadn’t revealed that he was planning to stay two more days and went along with their decision.

He went back to his room, where he and Emma waited for Zelena to send a text.

“Maybe she finally gave up,” Emma said, after waiting almost an hour.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” Killian said. “I would wager she’s packing or taking a shower first.”

Sure enough, ten minutes later, a message came through Emma’s phone.

Z: It’s our last night here and your last chance to have a drink with me, Killian. What’s the harm in having just one little drink?

Emma shared a smirk with her husband. “Let the fun begin.”

E: Oh, what the hell? Sure, I’ll have a drink with you, but I’d rather not take the risk of our colleagues seeing us. Would you be comfortable coming to my room? I happen to have a bottle of rum.

It took less all of three seconds for the three response bubbles to pop up.

Z: Perfect! What is your room number?

E: 511

Z: I’ll be up in a minute!

E: I’ll be waiting.

Emma grinned at her husband as she went to the closet to grab one of his button-down shirts. “I wasn’t lying. I will be waiting,” she said. “Tap on the door when you’re ready for me to come out. Just don’t let her go too far.”

“You don’t need to worry about that, Love,” he assured her. “The sooner we have this showdown, the better.”

She kissed his cheek, wiping away the telltale lipstick before going into the bathroom and closing the door.

Less than a minute later, there was a knock at the room door. Killian drew in a deep breath, blew it out slowly, then opened it to reveal Zelena standing there, dressed in a short, black dress with a low, scooped neckline and black heels at least four inches high.

Without waiting for an invitation, she glided past him into the room. “I was afraid you were going to let this golden opportunity pass by,” she grinned wickedly.

“Golden opportunity?” he questioned.

“You know,” she purred, stepping close to him and walking the fingers of both hands up his chest, “being here without your wife. As the saying goes, when the cat’s away, the mice will play. Or in this case, it’s the cat who is doing the playing. Me-ow!”

“So,” he said, stealthily moving in front of the bathroom door, “I guess that makes you a mouse?” His fingers lightly rapped against the door.

“It does if you intend to play with…” Zelena began, cutting off when the bathroom door opened and Emma stepped out, dressed in nothing but Killian’s shirt and her underwear.

Killian would have given anything to have a picture of Zelena’s face the moment she spotted Emma. Her jaw dropped and her eyes went as wide as saucers.

“Zelena, I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Emma Jones,” he said, trying to keep the mirth out of his voice.

“Your w-wife?” she squeaked.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Emma said, interlacing her fingers over her husband’s shoulder, thoroughly enjoying the stunned look on the other woman’s face. “And just to clear things up, he might want to play, but it will be with me, not a rat like you.”

“But…you…we…how…?” Zelena stammered.

“You see,” Emma began, “Killian has been telling me about how uncomfortable you’re making him at work, and how he’s tried to rebuff your advances. Since you’ve chosen to ignore his wishes, we thought we would stage this little intervention. What you need to understand is, he’s MY husband and you WILL stop making innuendos and touching him. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

When Zelena didn’t answer, but just stood there gaping like a fish out of water, Killian spoke up, “I think you stated that quite succinctly, Mrs. Jones.”

“Why, thank you very much, Mr. Jones. I don’t want to leave any doubt in her mind that she is to leave you alone. Unless, of course, she wants you to file sexual harassment charges against her. We do have all of her texts as proof.”

They both turned their eyes back to Zelena, who flushed a deep shade of red, her face morphing from shock to fury. “How dare you…” she sputtered.

Emma dropped her hands and took a determined step forward into the other woman’s space, pointing her finger at her. “No, how dare YOU! Killian has told you time and time again that he’s married, but you’ve ignored him!” Emma’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “This isn’t a game you want to play with me, Ms. Green, because I will win! My husband and I have vowed to love, honor, and cherish each other until death do us part, and we meant every word with all our hearts. You have no idea what I’m capable of when it comes to protecting our marriage! There’s not a chance in hell I’ll let a two-bit hussy like you come between us!”

Zelena audibly gulped, her eyes darting back and forth from Emma to Killian, who was now standing beside his wife. Still, she gave no response confirming her understanding.

Killian cleared his throat. “If you continue to disregard our wishes, I’ll have no choice but to take my concerns to the head of the department, and the Dean, if necessary. Is it really worth your career to continue this futile pursuit?”

Zelena finally seemed to overcome her shock. Crossing her arms over her chest, she spat, “You would never do that.”

“If you refuse to stop, I won’t hesitate,” he assured her. “I love my job and have always enjoyed working with the people in the department, but I’ve been on edge ever since you started there. This comes to an end right now, Zelena.”

His wife noticed the challenge the other woman still had in her eyes. Grabbing Killian’s tie, Emma pulled him to her and kissed him passionately. His arms wrapped around her, his hand tangling in her hair.

Both of them were breathless when the kiss finally ended several seconds later. Momentarily forgetting about their company, they rested their foreheads together and licked their lips, humming their satisfaction.

“I suppose you’re trying to prove a point with that display?” Zelena sneered.

Emma’s brows knit together as she glared at her. “You seem like an intelligent person - figure it out.”

Zelena widened her stance and placed her fisted hands on her hips. “What kind of answer do you expect me to give you?”

“Maybe I don’t need answers,” Emma ground out. “Maybe I just need to punch you in the face!”

Taking a step forward, Zelena gritted her teeth and snarled, “Bring. It. On.”

Killian stepped between them. “That’s enough!” he declared. “Zelena, trust me, you do not want to challenge my wife. You have exactly zero chance of being with me. Zero. Get that through your head. I’m completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with Emma. Nothing you, or anyone else, says or does is ever going to change that.”

He felt Emma’s arms wrap around his waist and he tugged her closer, before continuing to address Zelena, “Now, you have two choices - we have a completely professional relationship from now on, or you prepare to answer for your actions. Which is it going to be?”

Zelena’s eyes shifted between the two people in front of her, both of them staring back at her while they embraced each other. After a few moments, her countenance changed from defiance to surly submission. “Oh, fine. I choose the professional relationship, Dr. Jones. I don’t know why you both got so up-in-arms about this anyway. I was just trying to have a little fun.”

“It might have started out that way, but you carried it way too far, sister,” Emma said firmly.

Zelena shot her one last glare before striding past the couple towards the door.

“Zelena?” Killian called out.

“What?” she asked, not turning to face him.

“I hope you have a safe flight back. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

She glanced back over her shoulder, an angry but defeated look on her face, then she exited, the door clicking shut behind her.

Killian looked down at the woman in his arms. “You are a force to be reckoned with, Mrs. Jones,” he said fondly.

“You should have let me hit her,” Emma commented.

He chuckled. “As enjoyable as that would have been for me to watch, I’m sure Zelena is just the type of person to press assault charges. It was enough seeing you threaten her.”

“Nobody messes with my man and gets away with it,” she smirked.

“I rather like this possessive side of you, Love.”

“Yeah? Does it turn you on?”

“Very much. And you know how much I love seeing you wearing one of my shirts,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

She pulled his face down to kiss him, long and hard, whispering against his lips when it ended, “Lock the door.”

“As you wish,” he said, hurrying to do as he was told.

By the time he turned back, she had already crawled into the middle of the bed, where she sat with her legs folded beneath her. She beckoned him forward with a crooked finger and he obliged, climbing onto the mattress and kneeling in front of her.

She undid his tie and pulled it from under his collar, then got to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“What, uh, what are your plans for me, Mrs. Jones?” he wondered, his breath catching as her fingers found his skin.

“I want you to make love to me to show just how completely, utterly and hopelessly in love with me you are, Mr. Jones.”

“Now, that’s an assignment I don’t mind getting one bit,” he growled, nosing behind her ear, his tongue teasing the lobe.

She removed his shirt, then ran her hands over the strong muscles of his shoulders and back. “God, I love your body, Killian. I can never get enough of you.”

“I hope you never do,” he answered. His fingers managed to unbutton the shirt she was wearing and pushed it aside, finding her breasts and beginning to caress them.

“I…I won’t,” she mumbled, eyes closing as his thumb brushed over her left nipple. No matter how many times they had been intimate in their years together, his touch never failed to leave fire in its wake.

He bent his head to pull the hardened nipple into his mouth. “Say you’re mine, Emma. I love it when you say that.”

Pushing her chest more firmly into his touch, she moaned, “I am yours, Killian. My heart, body and soul are yours and always will be.”

Easing her back onto the mattress, he made quick work of removing her panties, then scooted backwards, hooking his arms under her knees and dragging her with him. Once he was kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed, his gaze moved up her body. Her eyes were still closed, her fingers plucking at her breasts, a sight which hardened his cock immediately.

He lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, spread her folds with his fingers and licked her from core to clit. Hearing her moan his name in long, drawn-out syllables, he licked her again, then flicked his tongue against her bundle of nerves.

She was so wet, two of his fingers easily entered her, his thumb rubbing circles over her clit. Her warm walls clenched around his digits, pulling them in further. “Killiannnn,” she sighed, “please…faster, deeper…more…”

He grinned, knowing exactly what she wanted. After pumping his fingers into her a few more times in quick succession, he added a third, eliciting a keening wail from her, then bent to suck her clit between his lips.

Emma’s body bucked against him, her orgasm causing her to shudder and shake as she shouted his name. He kept his fingers inside her, enjoying the feeling of her slick walls throbbing around them. When she finally stilled, he pulled them out and made quick work of removing his trousers, underwear and prosthesis.

She watched him through hooded eyes, slowly sliding herself back up the bed. As soon as he laid down beside her, she reached for his erection, sliding her hand up and down, feeling the velvety skin slide over his steel shaft.

He could easily get lost in the sensations her hand was producing, but he focused on pleasing his lady. His tongue blazed a path from her ear lobe, down her throat and across her collarbone, stopping every so often to suck a mark into her skin. He knew she loved seeing them in the mirror the next day, marking her as his.

When he stopped to take a breath, she put her hand on his shoulder, pushing him onto his back. Locking eyes with him, she climbed over him, sliding her hand around his cock as she positioned herself over him. “This,” she growled, giving it a squeeze, “belongs to me.”

“It’s yours,” he agreed. “Only yours, my love.”

Lifting her hips, she lined herself up and sank down around him. Both of them groaned in unison at the nearly overwhelming pleasure of being exactly where they wanted to be.

“Ride me, Love,” he gasped.

She did, slowly at first, undulating her hips, but picking up speed as their skin slapped together. His hand and wrist found her breasts, squeezing, rubbing and fondling them as they bounced above him.

As their lovemaking intensified, he gripped her hips and thrust up into her. Their shouted words of bliss filled the room and they found their climax together. The aftershocks rippled through their bodies as she collapsed on top of him, boneless and sated.

He drew the sheet over their cooling bodies once he was able to move and they lay motionless for several minutes, their ragged breathing returning to normal.

Finally, she raised up and crossed her arms over his chest, looking into his beloved face. His bright smile brought one of her own to her lips. “What?” she asked, wondering what was going through his mind.

“I’m just thinking how much I love it when you’re possessive.”

“Some men wouldn’t,” she conceded.

“Well, I’m not one of those men.”

“I’m very happy to hear that, because I imagine this won’t be the last time I’ll have to remind other women that this silver fox is all mine.”

He grinned. “They’ll learn not to take on the incomparable Mrs. Jones.”

*********

Thank you for reading, liking, leaving comments and reblogging, if you’re so inclined. Happy belated birthday, @cs-rylie. I’m so happy to have you as my friend!

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere@fallingforthecaptain @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelousmorgan @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potato-but-likes-tomato @anothersworld @deckerstarblanche @purplehawkcaptain @superchocovian @k-leemac @citygirlscowboy @laughterandbooks @sotangledupinit @apiratewhopines @huntressandlioness1 @cosette141 @gingerpolyglot @motherkatereloyshipper @cs-rylie

#csff #taking on Mrs. Jones #jrob64 #captain swan fan fiction #a birthday story for Rylie #cs-rylie #ouat captain swan fanfic #captain swan smut #role play #the red vest of sex #silver fox killian #professor killian #possessive Emma #unwanted flirtation #cs fanfiction

68 notes · View notes

loulines · 11 months

Text

I got my anniversaries mixed up.

Fuck.

Not that it matters. The thing on June 21st was something I confessed to someone which started a series of things that made me end up in therapy. Still ironic.

My fandom anniversary is about a week later. Can't really remember when exactly anymore.

Again, it doesn't matter.

I survived my first ever therapy session, that's what matters.

Normally I wouldn't write about it, in fact I haven't really felt like talking about the details for the couple of days, not even to my friends. My family doesn't even know I went there.

The only reason why I want to publicly speak about it is because I know there are many people like me who are struggling and on the verge of breaking apart, but they're too afraid to start therapy, or procrastination and executive dysfunction are kicking their ass. I can only hope to inspire at least one person.

I'd rather not talk about how I even got to that point aside from the thing I mentioned earlier because this should stay private. But it was that and also years of other unfortunate events that shaped me into the miserable wreck I am today.

I've been considering starting therapy when things were still somewhat "not great not terrible", but since I was terrified of talking to anyone, I did everything I could to not find a specialist.

Then, when I actually seriously considered getting the appointment, I have already done things I was even more scared to talk about with a stranger because therapist or not, the last thing I needed was to have someone confirm that I did morally wrong and unforgivable things...

And of course living in a hell of a homophobic country doesn't help either.

Hundreds of mental breakdowns later, and buckets of tears I've cried, my irl friend told me that I should really look for someone to help me. My first reaction was of course, "no way I will do it," but then she told me that she's looking for a therapist herself too. And she told me about her ways to look for someone.

So eventually I spent some time on research, wrote down some names and then left it like that without making an appointment.

It was fine. I did the first step anyway and that was what mattered. A few days later I was getting out of another meltdown and then I just... I grabbed my ipad, went back to the list and made an appointment with the therapist that "seemed" to be the best for me.

And that was it.

I almost started crying while I was signing up because it felt like I was making a life changing decision. And idk... Maybe because I finally agreed with myself to get the professional help I've been avoiding so much in the past.

On the day of the appointment I was stressed AF but it hit the catalyst 15 minutes before. I thought I would pass out and I don't know if it was my nerves or the heatwave or both.

And then it happened. Again, I don't want to share any details. Some things got clearer right away and made me feel calm now, the rest is still confusing. I definitely need more sessions. I might attend them feeling less stressed though. Hopefully.

I don't want to draw any conclusions now. I don't want to examine myself in search of finding immediate changes in me and my POV... That's gonna take a while and just because I've been feeling slightly better for a few days and not s**c*d*l (as usual) doesn't mean I'm already fixed. I'm not. I'm still beyond broken and more than confused.

Tbh I know absolutely nothing about mental health. All the attempts at trying to understand what is happening to me or others were only making things worse. I used to think I can DIY my own therapy without stepping out of my comfort zone. I cannot.

Had I started therapy earlier, say 8 months earlier, maybe I would be in a very different situation right now. And the people that were affected by my mental fuck up would be as well. Maybe things would be so much better now. I will never know. Time can't go in reverse, what's done is done. The only thing I can do now is to trust a specialist and hope I chose the right one.

And wait.

For days, weeks, months, maybe years...

Until life is good again.

#sorry for rambling again #I usually have this phases that I ramble a lot then stop and then go again #I honestly don't know what it's like to be happy anymore #all the good things that happened seem to be nothing but a fading dream now #also I slept very badly last night so I'm just exhausted and feel extremely bad #I wish I was a robot so I could juat switch myself off #I wish I could go back to drawing again I remember how I loved to do it #why am I still rambling in the fags ffs #I need sleep

8 notes · View notes

kiebs-creative-corner · 10 months

Text

Tattoos

Story: Six of Powers

Genre: General

Characters: Mari, Jun, Trisha

A short I wrote to get a feel for Mari, Jun, and Trisha's personalities. Also because tattoos are cool.

---

"Huh?" Mari was staring, but she honestly couldn't be blamed for it. Because, with what she knew, what she was seeing didn't make sense.

The day was warm, a late season heatwave that was just warm enough for t-shirts and jeans and no jackets. Seeing as Mari had moved to City in September, right when it was starting to cool off, she hadn't really seen Jun in t-shirts. At least, not ones as tight as the v-neck he had on, whose sleeves reached just barely to the middle of his bicep. The middle of his bicep where half of a black scaly tail peeked out.

Now, Mari didn't have much if any memories of their time at the Facility, but she had learned fairly quickly that Jun was virtually invulnerable. He had purposely ruined a steak knife to show her how only her claws and teeth could break his skin. So she was aware that things like needles should shatter if pressed too strongly.

And yet, that could only be a tattoo on his bicep, unless it was one of those fancy temporary tattoos that lasted like a week.

"Stare any harder and he might just combust," Trisha drawled, examining her freshly done manicure.

Mari whipped her head around. She opened her mouth, unsure what she was going to say, when a lower voice cut her off.

"Trisha," Jun scolded, but there was a slight twitch to his lips when Mari looked back at him. It made her stomach flutter.

"I'm only worried that maybe our dear Mari developed heat ray vision or something," Trisha huffed, but it poorly disguised her own little smirk. "Not that I don't think you don't mind the attention, Junie."

"Shut up." Jun rolled his eyes, but he no longer met Mari's gaze.

Something in her chest didn't like that. Which Mari refused to examine at this very moment because she would then get distracted and upset that she couldn't remember whatever it was that made her hate when Jun wasn't paying attention to her. She also refused to acknowledge there might just be a simpler reason for that. There were more important matters at hand.

Mari cleared her throat.

"If I may ask," she began, ignoring Trisha's "No" and Jun's "Anything", "do you have a tattoo?"

Jun blinked before he turned to show his left shoulder. Rolling up his sleeve revealed the rest of said tattoo: a black snake that wrapped twice around his bicep with its head resting just under the ball of his joint.

Her wild was dismayed that it wasn't a dragon.

"I got it back when I was twenty-three," he explained and left the sleeve rolled up. Like an invitation to touch it. Which Mari resisted despite her desires.

"We got them together," Trisha added.

"You have one too?"

"Mm, on my back." She sipped her drink. "And I'm not wearing the right top to show you."

"It's a spider web, between her shoulder blades," Jun explained when Trisha made no move to say more.

"Ah, I see," Mari murmured, not fully understanding the meaning behind either tattoo. It wasn't like Jun was born in the Year of the Snake or Trisha was a black widow or anything. But that wasn't actually her question. "...how, though?"

"With a needle." Trisha's tone alone said the unspoken "duh".

Mari gave her her most unimpressed look. "I'm an amnesiac, not dumb, Patricia. I mean, how did Jun get a tattoo?"

Trisha immediately looked a little guilty. Her mouth twisted.

"Ah, it was...a special needle," Jun reluctantly said. He was staring at Mari with a mildly grim look on his face. "...back in the Facility when the scientists found out your claws could cut me, they took a sample of the chemical makeup to replicate for tools that could work on me. They really only managed to make needles, but the data was still in the hard drives."

"Since my father's company scavenged all the data they could, Company got those files so we could fabricate more," Trisha continued. "Once I took over, we did it to make, well, a tattooing needle and a piercing gun tip."

Mari had covered her mouth and gave them a long look.

On one hand, she hated that the Facility had had files on something that could bring Jun harm. More than just needles, if he had ever rebelled before the six of them had, the Facility could have made weapons to kill him. And Trisha kept those files instead of deleting them. On the other hand, she hadn't done anything besides make essentially nonlethal equipment, which allowed Jun experiences that someone without his invulnerability could have. It was honestly very sweet of her.

"Your ears are pierced? I thought they were clip-ons," Mari remarked with a growing smile. "I will admit, that wasn't exactly what I expected."

"You're not...upset?" Jun asked as he ventured closer.

"Well, there's not much I can do about it," she said. "Besides, if it helped you feel normal, I can't really fault either of you."

He blew out a deep sigh. "I thought you'd be angry."

"Like I said, there isn't anything I can do about it," she insisted. "As long as there hasn't been anything made that can hurt you."

"No, any blueprints other than needles i got rid of," Trisha declared. Her eyes flashed. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt us again."

"Then there isn't any reason for me to be angry," Mari said. She smiled up at Jun and privately marveled at the surprise on his face. "I'm a little disappointed it's not a dragon, though."

He huffed a laugh.

"I thought that might be a bit on the nose," he remarked, leaning closer to her. "Y'know, being second gen and all."

"Mm, yes. You have a point," she agreed. "And the snake is...?"

A shadow fell over his smile, the warm amusement turned cold. He didn't move, but the spark had gone from his eyes.

"Thought it was cool," he answered finally.

Mari thought it sounded like a lie.

#six of powers #my writing #drabble #short #mari muñiz #jun liu #trisha ramone #said I would post gen bios about the characters next #i lied #2023

5 notes · View notes

goodfish-bowl · 2 years

Text

Fevour

Ectoberhaunt Day 6: Burn

AO3 Link

Summary: Fevour, an intense and passionate feeling; an intense heat. It took Vlad three years to find something worth coming back to life for.

Warnings: Long-term hospitalization, major depression.

Words: 1069

Notes: We see a lot of Danny coming into being a halfa, but what about Vlad? I always enjoyed the headcanon that Vlad has a fire core.

@ectoberhaunt

It had been three years since Vlad Masters had seen the face of another person. Three years since he was admitted into a specialized, medical research facility, though it felt closer to a prison. Three entire years since anyone had reached out to him at all. He had only seen the distorted sheen of his own reflection in the hazmat the doctors wore when entering his room, and the horrific, pock-marked reflection he now sported in the mirror, growing thinner and sicklier with each passing month. The only people he had spoken to were the doctors and himself. They’d address him through the intercom system, or send him paperwork through the fax machine, which he would have to fax back. He was also allowed to be sent or request items from the outside world, but he rarely did. No one had thought to contact him in three years, and he had no reason to contact anyone in return.

Since his admittance, Vlad had maintained a fairly consistent schedule. He’d spend most of his time asleep, either completely unconscious, in operation, or under the intense painkillers fed to him through an IV permanently taped to his arm. Most of his time awake was spent in an uncomfortable stupor, trying to escape back into his dreams. His dreams were chaotic and mishappened things, often closer to the plague on his skin than anything pleasant, but they were better than the pain and the sickness. He knew, almost intrinsically, something was happening to him, and Vlad decided he’d rather not be awake for it. He didn’t want to be awake as he knew he inched closer and closer to the edge of something for his first year, then somewhere over it during his second. He didn’t want to be anywhere near conscious as that warm, sickly feeling, like an oppressive, tropical heatwave, spread through him, limb to limb, swimming through his veins, and finally infecting his mind.

There was something wrong with him, the doctors always said, when they thought he was completely under, but not quite (he’d been much more resistant to their drugs after the first few months). Vlad was intimately aware of his vitals, and how they’d fallen, leveling out by his second year here, but only at about half of what they were supposed to be, and his temperature always ran dangerously high, only a degree or two away from a deadly fever. He found new sensations pulling at his fingertips and the tips of his toes, like being submerged into too warm water. Sometimes the face staring back at him in the mirror wasn’t his own, but sporting pale blue skin, and the dark hair he thought he’d lost during his stay here. The eyes staring back at him were a bright red he’d rather forget.

Vlad noticed it halfway through his second year, when he was starting to spend more time awake than asleep. He found his hands and limbs, sometimes his entire body, able to slip through things and vanish from sight. It was difficult, and he had little control over it, and he quickly wrote if off as delusions due to his isolation. But something else begun to build in his chest, making his anxious and fidgety, eager to do something, but he had no idea what. He knew he needed to do something, but he could never find a direction for his energy. Nothing seemed to satisfy that itch in the back of his mind and the irritation in his chest. This sent him spiraling into a depressive state, desperate to return to the sweet unconsciousness that graced his first few months here. His twisted dreamscape was better than the discomfort and flickering of his own limbs.

It was on the verge of his third year that Vlad received a piece of mail for the first time that pulled Vlad out from this state. It was a card, an invitation of all things, to an event he couldn’t possibly attend. A wedding between the woman he had once loved, and the man declared as his best friend. It was written in Jack’s horrific yet perfectly characteristic handwriting Vlad had long since grown accustomed to during their college days.

Something sparked in Vlad then, that simmering heat finally decided to burn. It tore at his throat, and his monitors started to shriek at the sudden skyrocket of his temperature and spasm of his vitals. Steam billowed from his form and hissed out between his breathes.

How dare he? Jack, marrying the woman Vlad had loved? Jack knew he had feelings for Madeline, as well. This was the ultimate betrayal, wrapped up into a sick insult. It blazed through him, powered by his righteous fury. It grew and billowed out, filling his veins with liquid fire. He wanted to see Jack suffer for this. He wanted him dead.

The invitation in his hands burst into flames, bright fuchsia and more intense than anything Vlad had experienced in years. His eyes widened, and the paper was reduced to less than ash before it even reached his lap. It startled him, leaving crisp burns on his fingertip from where he had held the paper.

Vlad’s mind suddenly clouded, overcome with exhaustion and spiraling from the heat. He could hear the doctors rushing in, along with something trying to cool him down. His heat had surpassed what his body could possibly manage, effectively giving himself heatstroke in the process.

In his dreams, Vlad dreamt of everything he could possibly do to enact vengeance upon the man who had once been his best friend, and then possibly reclaim Madeline’s heart for himself, having the life he had always wanted. Money and power were the key to all of that, weren’t they? That was what his parent’s had always told him, how he’d go nowhere without it. So, he outlined ways to seek it, and from there he could have whatever else he desired until fulfilled. With his new set of skills, he could easily obtain all the money he needed, but it was how to apply it that took the planning. And so, he schemed within the confines of his mind.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the irritation and itch faded, burnt away by the flames of his rages, replaced by a burning fervor that brought him back to life as a spirit of wrath and vengeance.

#danny phantom #Ectoberhaunt22 #EH Chaos #Day 6 #Burn #goodfish writes #Vlad Masters #Vlad POV #Vlad loosing his shit to become the fruitloop he is today #actually did some research for this one #i should traumatize Vlad more often

22 notes · View notes

karlyanalora · 10 months

Note

Hi, I recently found the post you made awhile ago talking about Burns family ships while looking for Graham/Amy stuff, and you mentioned writing a fic set ten years after the show ends. I don't know how long ago that was, but would you mind sharing more about that fic, I'm personally very intrigued.

Ah yes! It might not be happening anymore, but here were some of my plans.

It would have been part of a crossover involving both Star Wars, Marvel, and DC. A lot of work had gone into setting up how DC, Marvel, and Star Wars coexist earlier in the series (that part I am still planning to write) before Transformers entered the picture (which probably won't happen anymore.)

The year is 2025. The Batmobile is a Decepticon OC of mine named LS. IDW based Drift is partnered with Nightwing. IDW based Red Alert is also partnered with Red Robin. TFP Soundwave is partners with Black Bat. Whirl Sr. and Harley Quinn are partners too.

The Coruscant Guard (who are alive after Order 66 due to some Marvel based shenanigans) have moved to Gotham and work with the GPD. Also, Mandalore has an embassy in Gotham because they think the city is neat. (It's trying to kill them, just like home!)

Chief Burns had grown up in Gotham. His mom had run away from home (Griffin Rock) for love, but her husband turned out to be a jerk and left her and the kids. She died from an illness, and Charlie joined a gang to put bread on the table. Charlie killed a man from a rival gang in self-defense at the young age of 16. Woodrow was worried for his bro, and in an age before Batman, reached out to my oc hero Foxglove. Foxglove in turn reached out to Jim Gordon's dad, who took in the two Burns boys.

After reconnecting with his grandfather and losing his wife to Crime Alley, Chief moved to Griffin Rock. But Dani, Kade, and Graham are old enough to remember and consider Gotham home.

Kade is also Babara Gordon's favorite cousin.

The year is 2025, and Babs is getting married to Dick Grayson. Kade thinks his cousin can do much better than that bimbo and is very vocal about it. Babs invites Kade to come and see why she's not settling.

Dani has also been dating a guy online named Thire, who works for the GPD. He's let her know he's got some "interesting life facts" he'd like to share in person, and she knows she'll have to tell him about Blades if things are going to get serious. But her Uncle Jim says Thire is a real good guy so she's not too worried.

The We Are Robin has also started and is not going away. They are joined by the Blanks, a group of anonymous young clones going behind their older brothers' backs to protect their new home in Gotham. Commissioner Gordon calls in Chief Burns to negotiate with the teens to find an agreement the adults can live with.

So this gets Chief, Dani, Kade, and Heatwave in Gotham for a visits.

Dani has a very fun date with Thire, who is a clone. Fox, Chief, and Gordon have way to much fun running into the couple and Fox gives Thire a hard time about it in a teasing way.

It is revealed Blades is like a dad to Drift, and Drift was like a dad to Wedge back when he was Deadlock. There is much angst as Drift frets about his past. It's a whole thing to convince him Blades will still love him. Blades and Wedge are both thrilled to be reunited with Drift.

Whirl Sr. and Whirl Jr. also have a wonderful reunion.

Kade learns he saved Ketsu Onyo once years ago and she finds that hot. He gets a date out of it. He can't help it her kid is adorable! (She was at the Embassy when Kade came to visit.)

Also, somehow, the Burns somehow get included in the "We know who Batman is" club.

As for more normal stuff? Cody and Frankie are married. So are Graham and Amy. Might be a few grandkids. Chief still hasn't managed to retire yet. Cody is a paramedic, but he feels his calling might not be in rescue work.

Yeah. So that's a bunch of thoughts I had. Here's a fic I wrote to lay the groundwork for some of it.

#thanks for asking!#this is more daydreams than anything now #but I'm happy to share #ts3

4 notes · View notes

trisofthewild · 2 years

Note

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic? 🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write? 🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants? 🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success? ⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

SORRY IT IS TAKING ME A WEEK TO GET THROUGH THIS GAME

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

Yeahhh, I think most of my irl friends do. When friendships and fandom overlap! It happens. I'm also 99.9% sure my sister knows (and I am 100% sure that she has) but by unspoken agreement this is never acknowledged between us.

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Afternoon and evenings for sure. I definitely wrote a lot of my past fic in the unholiest hours of the night, but now that I am old I don't even like bringing my laptop in my bedroom, much less writing porn past my bedtime.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

This is another way I've changed as a writer. Writing late into the night was part of my process when I was younger because I did not plan, I just surfed on waves of inspiration, which frequently meant writing entire short fics in one sitting--if it needed more time, I might not be able to catch another wave. I got a little better at writing stories across multiple sessions as I went along, but without real planning it was always really difficult and I think it ultimately contributed to whatever made me stop writing fic for almost a decade.

When I started writing fic again, I found that without meaning to, I had become a planner. (I always think this has something to do with all the papers and the thesis I had to write for school in those missing years.) I no longer like to even start writing anything down before I have the full story fleshed out in my head, and if I do, it's because I have some really strong ideas that I'll put down in bullet point form, knowing I need more bullet points to make an entire outline with. Sometimes my outlines ARE very vague, more like a list of scenes/beats, and sometimes they're very detailed (I like to choreograph every move of a sex scene, for example), but again, even the outlines usually aren't committed to paper/screen until I've thought the whole story through.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

I try not to sweat kudos and comments too much, although that's a lot easier said than done. Focusing on the individual reactions--if any one person, especially a friend or writer I really respect, loves it--I'll probably feel good about it. It's also about whether or not I really like it. If I want to reread my own story and still like it after it's been posted, that's an important form of success.

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

TOO LONG. Here's what I'll say in favor of the inspiration surfing method from my 20s: I worked a lot faster than I do now. Nowadays I can maybe turn out 500 words per day. This doesn't count the planning/outlining stage, or rewriting (I rewrite a lot; most of what I post is at minimum a second or third draft), or editing. So... depending on length: weeks to months.

My current WIP (started about three weeks ago, though I lost about a week to heatwave) has about 4k words, almost all first draft, hundreds of which will doubtless be deleted. It also has several key scenes missing and a deadline less than a week away. Your thoughts and prayers, please.

THANK U FOR THE ASK MARINA ILU I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY!!!!!!

#ask game #also please send help

5 notes · View notes

residentevildash-moved · 2 years

Note

best/most interesting baroque character?

THE HORNED GIRL I like her so much because she doesnt speak her own thoughts, but instead will say whatever the person closest to her is thinking. this pairs with the protagonist, who is mute, and it's interesting when you consider that people's post-heatwave forms are, like i said last post, influenced by the psyche (hard to explain but its not just the protags influence, its like...humans complex thought 'corrupting' 'god') (which then corrupts 'reality' in the shape of the complex thoughts) --- so, like, her having horns sticking out from her head and the ability to broadcast other peoples thoughts through her own speech says something about who she was before, since this is sort of an externalization of her inner self, which is.... self-less? a mirror for others?

i also really enjoy doctor angelica, who was a researcher in the nerve tower, and is the 'guardian angel' who tries to warn the protagonist that he shouldnt destroy 'god,' and that the guy who told him to do it is lying. she has an interesting arc (shown in the manga) of first admiring the archangel (guy who SUCKS!!!!)(not a real archangel. hes just an asshole with fake wings) and wanting to work on the project to alter 'god' (complicated; they want to remove human corruption from 'god' but its secretly causing further harm to the world) to finding out whats really happening and trying to stop the archangel before its too late. does that make sense. she's also got a really cool design with one black 'bird' on one side of her body, and a white 'bird' on the other, so something about balance and so on. i wrote a lot oops

#asks

3 notes · View notes

percervall · 2 years

Text

Thanks @theflyingfeeling for the tag 🧡

rules: list your top 5 favorites of your fics, what they're about, and why you're proud of them, then tag some fic authors to do the same!

I'm tagging @thebluesideofmyworld, @footballffbarbiex, @kostasstsimikass and @penguintransporter

(putting my choices in the read more 👇)

I Got You Technically it's a series of oneshots, so I'm not sure if it counts, but I absolutely loved writing these. It's a collection of oneshots/drabbles about Fernando Torres and Sergio Ramos realising during the 2012 EUROs that they are in love with each other and everything that happens after. (I also kinda managed to predict Nando's move from Chelsea to Atletico before it even happened which was hella weird)

Heatwave This one is my most recent fic. It's about Thiago and his wife missing each other terribly while he's away for pre-season in Thailand and them finding a way to still ✨connect✨ I'd never written about him before so I am quite pleased with how this turned out

it's only half past the point of no return I wrote this one for a football prompts monthly prompt. It's about all the times Sergio wishes he'd had the courage to tell Fernando how he feels about him but never did because something always came up. I just love the amount of pain it caused me while writing it, and I still come back to it to read it.

but we were history (with the slamming of the door) This was the second oneshot I ever wrote in second person, which I normally don't do (or enjoy, because I find the y/n thing frustrating to read at times), but I am quite please with how this turned out. It's based on Celine Dion's It's All Coming Back To Me Now, and it's basically about the OFC bumping into her ex at a charity event after not having seen him for at least 10 years and them discussing their break up. The ending was a little heart breaking to write though.

la gente que es mi hogar Again, I just enjoy being hurt by footballers. This one is about what I'd like to imagine happened when Xabi first came to Anfield. It's a wide eyed Xabi, and a cynic Stevie, and I love them so much 😭

#tagged #about me #football fanfic #I like how these span from like 2012 to 2022 #My god has it really been that long already since I started writing football fanfics?

0 notes

jackassbroadcast · 3 years

Text

Thcscus aka the writer of passerine just ended a space on twt! I joined a bit late but here are some points i loved i think is worth to share for people that missed that!

one of Tommy's reincarnations described in chapter 7 is theseus!

Techno catching dream by the heel is a reference to Achilles heel!

Ranboo was supposed to be in passerine and was supposed to be in the green army and face off tubbo but Thcscus didnt know how to reference him without being too obvious

Possible continuation of passerine story about passerine! Dream team

Fun fact: the wife of niki's neighbor that took care of her flower shop died because she fought in the blue vally

Phil's wife in passerine is actually supposed to be the Samsung smart fridge and not trixtin

The weird smell that tommy mentioned smelling in the camp before the war in chapter 4 was the sulfur!!

The ending is up to interpretation!! People that thought wilbur came into techno's room in the end to tell him phil is back are as valid as people thinking phil wasnt back until they were all dead

Fun fact! If u go through the lyrics in the chapter titles (that are from "Passerine" by Oh Hellos) you'll see the lyrics in the last chapters comes before the first one to showcase the loop!

Thcscus listened to megalomania, pigstep and trap music while writing the fight scenes

Not a fact about the fic but Thcscus just found out george and sapnap has a ao3 account, she is currently losing it

Also not a fic fact but Thcscus and her friends narrowed it down to 3 ccs that will probably read the fics and those are: Sapnap, Jack manifold and Ranboo

Bee duo enthusiasts expect a fic in about a month!!

Thcscus killed tommy because she couldn't bring herself to kill Wilbur because hes her favorite in sbi

Thcscus has been exposed as a Passerine!dream kin

'Did phil ever think about techno after leaving him in the arctic?' "Yeah ofc he did" EMERALD DUO STAY WINNING

The things techno did with phil in the arctic are the same things he and Wilbur did in the end ( making tea, playing chess, ex.)

"Passerine niki my beloved, you deserved better"

Update: they are singing the filipino anthem and are hating over the filipino government (they are filipino)

Sapnap has been with his lover's corpse at least up until the corpse became bones

Thcscus is currently re writing parts of passerine after learning some aspects of it can be harmful and is going to dm people from the effected communitys right after ending the space to help her with it!!

The person that burries sapnap in the end is Passerine!George !!

Passerine!Purpled is one of the mercenaries passerine!Wilbur hired!

Thcscus's cousin is her inspiration for how she wrote techno's sister

Same cousin was the same one that got Thcscus into the dsmp so yall owe passerine to a 6 y/o

Passerine!Tommy canonically wears crocs

All fanfics are canon in passerine bc of the multiverse, therefore heatwaves is canon in it as well

Expanding upon the last point made: Passerine!Dream, the all powerful god just makes himself be a minecraft youtuber bc hes bored

Thcscus is freaking out and losing her shit live bc sapnap tweeted this on his priv:

Apparently Thcscus is old and drinking water is an old people thing now

Space ended bc Thcscus needs to get some sleep before quackity lore L

#mcyt #dreamsmp #passerine #passerine fic #dsmp

2K notes · View notes

hallwaycrush · 2 years

Note

hii, can u do a part 2 of your hcs of reader giving the madrigals a letter with cute draws? like dolores and the triplets >3< if u don’t that’s cool too! (☆▽☆)

I tried answering this request before but Tumblr deleted everything I wrote so this is my second attempt! Also I love your emotions!!

Dolores

She never really gets letters

I mean she can hear everything, people can just say stuff to her out loud from across town

So when you ran off after giving her a letter she was super curious

She ran off to read the letter too

And she turned super red when she read it all

The little drawing at the bottom was adorable to her

She kept the letter after she got it

She found you really fast afterwards using her gift

And she told you that she likes you back and asked you out

——————

Pepa

After you gave her the letter and ran off Pepa was worried she would get it wet

So she didn’t read it for a while

But when she finally got the chance to she got super flustered

A giant rainbow appeared over her head

It was super obvious

And the drawing of a cloud at the bottom made it sunny for a good week

She of course got Dolores to help find you

And she told you she liked you back and wanted to date

It caused a heatwave in Encanto for a while tbh

—————————-

Julieta

She’s a super busy person so she left the letter by some food in her kitchen

But she was in a rush to read it

She ended up reading it while cooking and spilled food all over herself

And some on the note sadly

She saw the drawing at the bottom too and thought it was adorable

She finished what she was cooking as fast possible

Then somehow found you

She told you how cute the letter was and asked you if you wanted to cook with her

————————

Bruno

When you gave him the letter he thought the worst

He had to work up the courage to open it for a good minute

After he opened it he had to sit down

He sat there re-reading it multiple times

He just couldn’t believe it

And the drawing of an hourglass at the bottom murdered him

He ended up just writing a letter back telling you he liked you too

And asking if you wanted to go on a date

Which of course you accepted

———————

This is kinda sappy but honestly thank you all so much for all the support on my page <3 it means the world to me truly

Requests are open!

#encanto #requests are open #dolores madrigal x reader #julieta madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x reader #pepa madrigal x reader #dolores madrigal #julieta madrigal #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal

256 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

crepeercool

meauw

wahidboctor-blog

Untitled

hyunseungjangs

roll deep

itsanawang

OFFTHECUFF

queerforster

imperative happy ending