#lilo's bookshelf
Text
to taint your soul — choi san
in which apparently even the daughter of an exorcist is not safe from the corruption of an incubus.
incubus!choi san x exorcist’s daughter!fem!reader. genre. smut, angst, southern gothic vibes. warnings. barely any plot, religious themes, religious guilt, swearing, explicit sexual content mdni, corruption, loss of virginity, masturbation (f.), referenced dacryphilia, fingering, referenced oral (f.), manhandling?, multiple orgasms, rough and gentle, big dick!san, creampie, marking, nicknames (angel, pretty girl, sweet girl, sweetheart). wc. 7.3k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. i should do more mythological characters!ateez cuz i enjoyed writing this and the lamb and the wolf. the demonology book/text here is partially from The Encylopedia of Demons and Demonology by Rosemary Ellen Guiley, but i made up some parts for the sake of the story. THIS FIC DOES NOT REPRESENT ANY OF MY OPINIONS AND I DO NOT INTEND TO OFFEND ANYONE.
listening to. burning desire, lana del rey // gibson girl, ethel cain // lilies, ethel cain & mercy necromancy // ptolemaea, ethel cain // heaven, taemin
masterlist.
you were cursed from the moment you were born.
the idea of being cursed or haunted by anything isn’t one you think about often, considering yourself protected by your father’s profession. at least one dusty bible on every bookshelf in the colonial monstrosity that is your home and crucifixes hung all around, it seems to be common sense that an exorcist’s home would be the safest place to hide from the dark.
unaware of it all, you used to let yourself be tucked into your lace-trimmed bedsheets as he pulled you to sleep with stories. tales of fallen angels and possessed souls became the lullabies of your childhood. admittedly, you were quite terrified of it all, but as you grew older and wiser, you realised there was no way they could get to you. but really, it was wishful thinking.
you weren’t aware of who your father used to be, nor were you aware of the debt he owed to a particular demon.
the dreams started the night after your twentieth birthday, vivid and unsettling. a man haunted them, equally as terrifying as he was handsome. tall and clad in dark silks, his whispered words and hungry eyes intrigued you. his touch, though a figment of your imagination, sent shivers down your spine, foreign yet infinitely alluring. you’d wake up with a jolt, panting, flushed cheeks and tingling skin as the dream stuck to you like cobwebs. your father passed the repeated dreams off as nightmares and you failed to notice the flash of fear cross his features.
one night, however, you were changing in your room. dimly illuminated by multiple candles you set around since you didn’t like how bright the large chandelier was, you held a dress in each of your hands, standing in front of the mirror as you held the clothing to your body in an attempt to figure out what to wear. you didn’t notice at first, but a figure lurked in the shadows of the bedroom. you didn’t notice the shift in the atmosphere or the flicker of the candles.
but soon, a soft sigh sounded through the room, so soft it could’ve been mistake for a whistling breeze outside your window. goosebumps prickled at your skin as you tensed, refusing to move at the oddly human sound. staring at yourself in the mirror intently, you caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the reflection of your mirror. your breath hitched as you fixed your eyes on him, afraid that if you blinked, he’d disappear.
you watched him. watched him take slow steps towards you as he smirked at the sight of your wide, fearful yet infinitely pure and innocent eyes. you convinced yourself you were hallucinating, the disturbingly realistic sounds of his footsteps as much of a figment of imagination as his being. but as he stood right behind you, a coldness swept over your skin and you flinched as his breath fanned against your bare shoulder. whipping around in surprise, you yelped softly at the sensation. but he was gone, and you were alone. breath erratic and eyes stinging, you scrambled to move a wooden cross stand from the top of your dresser to your bedside table.
after that you grew paranoid, always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with at least two safe and reliable candles lit. each time you walked through the hallways of your own home, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at the portraits lining the dark walls as you thought they were watching you. the tiniest of sounds made you flinch and break a sweat, squeezing your eyes shut and muttering prayers, only to find out the sound came from either of your parents.
the constant state of fear and anxiety left you tired, deciding if your father wasn’t going to do anything about it, you would. on quiet feet, you crept through the halls at noon (you were too scared to go to that room at night), a rosary wrapped around your hand with a dainty little cross hanging from your clenched palm.
you father really was a well-known exorcist, often to go on trips within and beyond the country to treat what doctors couldn’t; demonic possessions. as a symbol of his successes and a means to prevent others from coming in contact with whatever a demon may have attached itself to, he brought home trophies and locked them in a little storage room in the basement. of course, he took many precautions—crucifixes all over the inside and outside, sprinkles of holy water here and there, he’d have your local priest come over and bless the area himself. despite all this, you never once stepped in, partially because your father advised you not to, mostly because you were completely and utterly terrified.
as you descended the creaking wooden stairs, a chill ran through you, the hairs at your nape standing in alert. maybe you were scaring yourself more than the room scared you. the dust tickled your nostrils, making you force down a sneeze as you cleared your throat. the wooden floorboards extended into a narrow hallway, lined by cobblestone walls. you rarely came down, in fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you were there, the surroundings seeming so foreign. there were only two doors, one leading to a storage closet and the other to a slightly scarier storage closet.
you stared up at the ominous door, standing tall and intimidating, a golden cross embossed right in the centra, doorknob dark and rusted. with shaky hands, you fished a copper from the hidden pocket of your plaid gown. it half-hearted a few sloppy attempts until you got the key in, squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to finally turn it.
another chill ran through your body as you push the door open weakly, cracking an eye open to look inside. had you come at night, you wouldn’t have been able to see anything, the only source of light being an elongated shirt window lining the top of the right wall, an inch below the ceiling. three shelves. one on the right, one of the left, and one down the middle of the room. the middle and left one were lined with various objects. you walked between them, looking but not daring to touch. the objects were quite diverse, you realised. dolls, clocks, little statues.
you took your time to get to the shelf you needed. along with these objects, you father also locked away any books he had that were related to demons in any way. most of them were confiscated from cults, some of their were from his personal collection. he claimed they were to protect you, and you didn’t completely disbelieve him. taking a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, looking at all the titles. your fingertips ran over their leather bound spines, feeling the wrinkles and grooves. you knew there would be a lot, but as you looked upon the entire shelf, you estimated a good hundred-fifty books.
he organised them by categories. summoning, excommunication, identifying. identifying. that’s what you needed. you took a closer look at the section, nervousness fading briefly to be replaced by a faint taste of hope.
the encyclopaedia of demons and demonology.
deciding there had to be something in there, you pulled it out. the book itself was simple, bound in black leather. the cover was nothing special, just the title and author. by the looks of it, you’d be here for a while, seemingly at least three hundred pages long. you looked around the dark room, a small wooden desk was tucked into the corner though not a chair in sight. with a soft sigh, you walked over on weak knees, apprehensive about what you’d find in the book.
despite your father’s profession and all the bedtime stories, you never came in contact with demons or the spirit world. setting the book on the desk, you opened it to the index, having to squint to make out the text. but the next time you lifted your eyes off the page, a brass candle holder was tucked into the corner of the table.
you blinked. there was no way that was there before, but maybe you had just missed it. the pale yellow candle stood half melted, the hardened wax forming veins that ran down the sides and pooled in the brass bowl.
you held your breath momentarily before beginning to read through the a to z list of demons and other dark entities and their descriptions. you only skimmed, lingering on any that mentioned appearing in nightmares only to dismiss them when the rest of their descriptions didn’t match with your experience. surprised by just how much there was to read, you felt just a little curious, occasionally stopping to read extracts that had piqued your interest. it wasn’t until you got all the way to section i where something actually seemed to be helpful.
‘incubus—a lewd male demon who pursues women for sex. the incubus and his female counterpart, the succubus, visit women and men in their sleep, lie and press heavily upon them, and seduce them.’
you nearly missed it, continuing your skimming until the description registered, scrambling to turn back the page and reread it.
“oh.” you breathed at the realisation. that seemed to be the most accurate thus far, your finger tracing over the name as you furrowed your eyebrows and continued reading. the next paragraphs detailed how they’re conjured and where the name came from. you read some more.
‘incubi are especially attracted to women with beautiful hair, young virgins, chaste widows, and all “devout” females. nuns are among the most vulnerable and could be molested in the confessional as well as in bed. while the majority of women are forced into sex by the incubi, some of them submit willingly and even enjoy the act. it once was a common belief that women were more likely than men to be the sexual victims of demons, because women were inferior to men and less able to resist temptation.
incubi have enormous phalluses that—’
slamming the book shut, your eyes widened and a deep blush settled over your features, just staring at the cover for a moment as you collected yourself from the sudden vulgarity of the writing. after a moment, you cleared your throat and reopened the page, strategically skipping over the next paragraphs that detailed accounts of intercourse with such a demon.
‘an incubus may form attachments to those whose minds are occupied with dark and inherently sexual desires, those that are impure. one also can be summoned for coital gratifications, or a deal in which one’s first born is ommonly offered to repay their sevices (see: dealing with the demons, page 218).’
but that couldn’t be right. you always made sure to be a good girl, always helped at home. you volunteered to read to children at a local orphanage, always helped with charities and donations, always assisted people where you knew you could, stayed soft spoken and always began your requests with please and ended them with thank you. you kept to yourself most of the time, would never dare to raise your voice at anyone, never had any romantic interest, let alone sexual ones.
admittedly, the dreams involving the man— the demon had you waking up with an uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs. but before that, you never indulged. after that, you never indulged either, instead jumping from your bed and taking an ice could bath to calm yourself from the strange feeling. the temptations were always there and were always strong, but your want to be immaculate was stronger. to be free of sin.
a deal in which one’s first born is offered.
it seemed impossible, almost. you knew your father was a righteous man and your mother a pure woman. but where your mother happily shared stories of her childhood as heart-warming anecdotes, your father only dropped tidbits of his memories despite considering you two to be extremely close. you always chalked it up to him being a little boring or generally not very open. but maybe there was more to it…
“there you go, sweetheart.”
you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, pushing the book away from you as you turned around a little too quickly, your knee knocking against the edge of the table.
there he stood, barely illuminated by the singular window as he took slow steps towards you much like the other day.
“so, you’ve finally figured it out, huh?”
each time he took a step, his muscles visible through the loose black silk, you inched away until the top of your thigh hit the wooden table, your hands bracing themselves on it to keep you from collapsing in fear. the closer he got, the more you realised just how attractive he was. broad-shouldered and radiating confidence, his feline eyes roamed over your figure. depite wearing a white gown that reached all the way down to your ankles, you felt so exposed.
tongue swiping along his bottom lip, drawing your attention to the action. he towered over you, making you feel weak and small as he trapped you against the table. your heart pounded against your ribcage and you feared it would break free and fall into his hands, unsure if the warmth on your cheeks and ump in your throat came from how utterly petrified you were or the way his breath fanned over your face like a whisper.
“your dearest father isn’t who he says he is,” he pouted mockingly, coming to a stop inches in front of you, letting his gaze settle on your quivering lips for a moment, “and me? well, you know what i am. and you also know we can have lots of fun if you allow it.”
your lips parted to speak but no words came out, instead opting to press them into a thin line and squeezing your eyes shut as you shook your head. you weren’t completely sure why you wer shaking your head, but if it would stop the incubus from tainting you, it was worth a try.
“don’t kid yourself, princess. i can smell how wet you are.” as if to emphasise his point, he inhaled deeply, leaning forward to ghost his nose over the slope of your neck without touching you.
it wasn’t until he said it that you notice you had been squeezing your thighs together, feeling warm all over and you stomach twisted in knots at the sound of his deep voice. something ached in your lower regions, but you tried your hardest to resist the thoughts.
but a little voice in the back of your head urged you to tilt your head back, to give him permission, to let his hands explore your untouched body. maybe just this once you could allow yourself to give in, to let your knees go weak and worry about begging for forgiveness later.
“all you have to do is drop the rosary.”
you gripped it tighter at the reminder of the protective object tangled between your fingers, fighting to keep your sanity intact. your breath hitched as you felt one of his fingers run along the beads, not daring to come close to the little silver cross or your skin.
“c’mon, pretty girl. drop it,” you heard the smirk in his voice, “let it go and i’ll take good care of you, i can make you feel things you’ve never thought of… i can make you feel alive, wouldn’t you love that? don’t you want to feel the desire? taste the lust?”
“n-no,” you gasped finally, finding your words, “it’s not right.“
he laughed, a low rumble from his chest, “i promise you’ll love being ruined by me,” he said, withdrawing his hand from yours, “i swear to all your precious little holy symbols, i know i can get you to want me.”
he moved closer and for a maddening moment you thought he was going to kiss you. faintly, you wanted him to. to feel the push of his lips against yours, to let his hands snake around your waist or grip your hips to pull you closer. there’s a ring on his index finger, you noticed, silvery and sharp, a symbol you didn’t recognise yet imagine him pressing it against your throat, branding your neck anew until it’s red and faithful. and maybe you crave for him to undo all the things in you that are holy.
“just drop it, pretty,” his breath teased your lips and you almost leaned forward in curiosity, wanting to see how just one kiss would feel, “i know you’re a good girl.”
those words. they’re almost enough for you to give in. how did he know those would strike a nerve, hit you where he knew it would work? not only did all your efforts ultimately lead to the same goal—purity, goodness—but you couldn’t deny the satisfaction you felt from reassurance. if you were an animal, you’d strive to be the priest’s favourite sacrificial lamb. to hold so very still and to bleed so prettily when the knife final comes down, to be reborn and be chosen all over again.
“don’t you get it?” he whispered, “i live inside you the same way you’re bound to live inside me. we’re a moebius strip, a never ending cycle of a snake eating it’s own tail. maybe it will end in destruction, but that’s your dear father’s doing. mutually assured destruction, maybe; you say yes, i’ll ruin you for everyone else, blacken the wool of your fur coat. you say no to me, i will suffer the consequences of not fulfilling a deal. you wouldn’t want someone to suffer because of you, hm?”
your grip on the rosary loosened and let your eyes finally flutter open. from this proximity, you could see every detail of his face and the image seared into your mind.
something in his eyes darkened as his lips curled, a playful smile, a predatory grin. the way he looked at you made you want to combust into flames, to fall to your knees, you skin rubbed raw on the ground as you beg him to make you feel.
“you don’t look so innocent anymore, you know? you’re docile and sweet, yes, but you’re not as pure as you think you are, there’s a little dirt in your pristine heart, a little lustful stain you can’t erase.”
“y-you’re wrong!” you protested, trying to convince yourself he was lying, “i’m good and i’ve always been good and i always will be good and i will not for the devil’s influence.”
“oh, but i’m not,” he pouted mockingly, moving his head back just an inch, looking down at you, “you’re practically shaking, so close to giving in… you’re the most pious girl here, yet you’re so close to sin, so close to me.”
you opened your mouth to continue your protests but flinched as you heard familiar heavy footsteps, looking up at the little window to see the familiar boots of your father about to enter the house after a long day of work. he was out, casting out malicious spirits and demons, and here you were, about to let one deflower you. the realisation seemingly made you come back to your senses, clenching the roary in your hand once more and looking for a way past him.
but… what would you even do afterwards? confront your father, the town’s devout exorcist, for making deals with the incubus in front of you? would he call you crazy, deny everything and treat you like just another one of his clients?
the footsteps were now above you, you could faintly hear him saying something to your mother though you couldn’t quite make out what it was. you’d never been as afraid of anything as you were of your own father, standing right above you, acting like he hadn’t damned you from the day you were conceived.
as if he could read your thoughts, could sense your panic that was completely unrelated to him, the incubus stepped back. his face was unreadable as his glazed over eyes fixated on you.
“don’t worry, sweet girl, i can wait. the longer you resist, the better it’ll feel when you finally surrender,” he gave you a small smile, different from the previous grins and smirks, as he nodded towards the window, “go.”
you could’ve run away the moment he stepped back, yet you didn’t move until he gave you the permission. you didn’t dwell on that fact as you slipped past him and reached up, shaky hands undoing the latch and opening outwards. you attempted to climb up, your arms burning as you tried lifting yourself, only to give up, panting softly from the effort.
“let me help you.” his voice offered, prompting you to look back at him. the seductive glint in his eyes was no longer there, taking a small step forward. “just… put it down, i promise i’ll help you and leave.”
you stared at him for a long moment. there was something so different in the way he looked at you now, suddenly soft and with good intentions. the voice of your father calling your name snapped you out of your stupor, nodding hurridely as you placed the rosary on the grass outside carefully before turning to look at him.
he gestured for you to turn away, your hands finding your hips as you did. the contact made you breath hitched, despite your layers of clothing between your curves and his hands, your stomach tickled with swarming butterflies as he lifted you up. the heat of his body behind yours distracted you for a moment, taken aback at how real he felt, how human he felt, even as he lifted you with ease.
you braced your forearms on the ground, pulling yourself up the rest of the way as he spoke.
“whisper my name three times, and i’ll be summoned wherever you are, ready to fulfill your needs.”
you stayed quiet for a moment, just sitting on the ground as you looked down at him, now able to see his full face clearning from his proximity to the window. “what’s your name?”
“san,” he smiled, “choi san.”
you loked away, up at your house as your father’s concerned voice called out your name again. “i should get going, but–,” you looked down to thank him, only to find an empty room and a sealed window. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, voiced trailing off, “thank you…”
the first time you touched yourself, it was san you were thinking about.
late at night, your parents fast asleep, a storm ragin outside, but all you could do was think about him. you tried, you really did. you tried to go back in the house and pretend everything was fine, that you had just been on a walk and your flushed face was from the excercise. secretely, all you could think about was him. how you wanted him to show up again—wanted him to make your breath hitch and your heart jump. wanted him to soothe whatever it was that ached inside you; the burn in the pit of your stomach, the spot where your waist met your hips, but most of all between your legs, were it had never ached like this before.
you excused yourself from dinner earlier, went to bed, and tried so desperately to fall asleep. whether it was to forget about it all, or to meet him in your dreams again, you couldn’t tell. you really tried, but haunting thoughts of how his hands held onto you rolled into your mind with images of all the things he could do to you. the raspy lilt of his voice, sometimes soft, sometimes commanding in a way that made your limbs feel like jello at the mere thought of it. his sharp eyes and sharp jaw and such tempting lips. he could have a kind face if he wanted to, yet his toned body, visible and obvious despite trying to hide behind his clothing, screamed sex appeal.
flashes from your previous dreams raced through your mind too. fragments of images where you could feel his hands all over you, his dark hair sticking to his sweat forehead, eyes rolled back from the pleasure he gave himself while you were forced to watch. you never quite gave in in the dreams either.
you tossed and turned in your bed, thighs pressed together so tight you worried you’d have long bruises down your inner thighs the next morning. the new feeling felt much too large for your fragile mind, overwhelming you, making your loose clothes feel suffocating. it wouldn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t let you sleep. mostly because you didn’t want to give the feeling a name, you refused to speak its name, even in your mind, even if it could identify this feeling.
pent-up and strained, coiled into yourself in a foetal position, you could only roll onto your back and let your hand trail down your body, hiking up the long skirt of your nightgown before letting your fingers dip between your thighs, spread at the knees. you let out a shaky gasp as you felt the wetness pooled beneath your undergarments, clamping your other hand over your lips. after feeling around experimentally, your fingers found a quick pace, rubbing over your clit, more desperate than they had ever been. your hand muffled your gasped out moans and whimpers, tears pricking at your eyes—partly from the guilt, mostly from the pleasure. you felt your heart beat all over your body, most of all right below your moistened fingertips.
shaky breaths and muffled needy cries were covered by both your hand and the storm outside your window. if hurts a little, your clit swelling as more and more slick coats it and the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. but you don’t mind the pain, you think you deserve it, because after all, it’s forbidden and it’s not supposed to feel good. san is not supposed to make you feel so good. a demon was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to be on your mind, especially not in this way.
the thought of him made your hand move faster and suddenly your breath was stuttering and your core pulse as you finish quickly, biting down on your lip, hard enough to cut through the skin, to muffle your cries. when you came down from your high, you lay there for a few moments longer, heart racing as you glance at the door to make sure it was still closed. and when you realised what you had just done, shame clouded your lungs as you slipped your fingers out of your panties and raised them to your face.
your hands came away sticky. transparents webs of your pleasure linking your index and middle fingers together as you stared in horror before finally collecting yourself and jumping from your bed to scrub the sin from your hands in your bathroom.
you scrubbed until your fingers turned red and your palms raw, losing sensation from the ice cold water, the guilt sinking deeper and deeper the longer you took to cleanse your body. you hadn’t noticed the tears running down your cheeks until you stared at yourself in the mirror, sniffling and glossy-eyed. your body might be clean, but were you? if you wanted to be immaculate, how could you let yourself do such a thing?
it was his fault, really. him and his midnight eyes and electric touches and words that would drive you to madness, damnation.
you changed your panties and nightgown, burying them in your laundry basket as if you were burying the evidence of a crime. once done, you wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed and fall asleep. but as you stared at what you once thought was comforting, you could only think about your soft whimpers and shaking thighs. so you stripped your bed naked to decorate it anew with clean sheets and blankets and pillows, shoving the previous ones under your bed before finally falling into a deep sleep.
shame followed you like a pest for the next days, unable to properly smile because all you could think about was what you had done. and what you wanted to do. a heavy melancholy washed over you in these days, confining yourself to your room when ou didn’t have to come down for meals. if your parents picked up on it, they didn’t say anything. maybe they knew. what if they know?
maybe they didn’t say anything because they knew about san. perhaps they thought it was fate, that you would give in sooner or later. despite cracking a bit, you stood by your conviction that you wouldn’t, no matter what, summon him.
but… was he really so bad? had you not seen a moment of softness when he helped you? demons were, after all, fallen angels. could it really be so impossible he still had a sprinkle of previous angeilc qualities? silently, you were thankful he hadn’t showed up on his own again. if he did, you were afraid you’d throw away all sense of faith and throw yourself into his arms, let him kiss you and lick you and suck you and bite you and everything in between.
despite all this, despite not wanting to summon him, you couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling weighing you down with each step. it had been there before—before whatever happened in the basement—dragging your seemingly heavy limbs through vacant hallways. but when he touched you, when his fingertips brushed against yours as he touched the shiny black beads of your rosary even though he didn’t mean to, when his hands lifted you into the air and helped you escape, the way he talked to you, his words and tone, that unsettling feeling had been lifted off your shoulders.
you noticed, for a brief moment, when you spent that short amount of time with him, you had no desire to think of god or rules or expectations. even if it was for a split second, it happened, and perhaps that what terrified you the most. just wanted to be, something you hadn’t been allowed for so long.
so when your parents said they’d be out late for some dinner you had no interest in attending, you paced around your room, deep in thought as your typical long nightgown tickled your ankles. millions of thoughts raced through your kind but, at the core, they were all the same. san, san, san. you felt like he had attached himself to your very soul, and you’re not quite sure how it happened.
without thinking, you stopped your pacing, glancing at the crucifix on your bedside table, a reminder. you couldn’t take it anymore, reaching out to take the wooden symbol and hide it in your closet. was it really wrong if it was still there, only trapped behind the wooden double doors, nestled between your skirts and shirts and gowns and gowns? out of sight, you felt less bad about what you were going to do.
your eyes squeezed shut and you did as he told you to, lips parting to whisper his name thrice. almost instantly, a gust of wind blew through your room and you knew there was someone else there with you. your eyes remained shut until you heard footsteps stalking towards you, his familiar voice filling the eerie silence of the room.
“hello, angel,” he grinned, borderline menacing, as he backed you up against your dresser. much like before, you were trapped, the back of your thighs pressed against the wood. only this time, you weren’t afraid, “i knew you’d give in sooner rather than later.”
you didn’t reply, didn’t know how to reply, only breathing shallowly, fingers curling into the edge of your dresser as you glanced from his eyes to his lips repeatedly.
“you need to give me permission, you know,” he chuckled, tilting his head to the side, “there are rules for deals such as these.”
“please.” you breathed, somewhere between a whisper and a needy whine as your round eyes looked up at him so desperately.
as soon as the word left you, his lips were on yours. hungry, devouring you, sucking on your bottom lip like it’s a candy as you can’t help but melt and whimper against him. his hand found your cheek, the touch surprisingly soft compared to the madness of his kisses. your heart rattled against your ribcage like a bird wanting to escape its confines. his saccharine saliva seeped into your mouth as his tongue broke past your lips, running over your teeth and the roof of your mouth as you let him do whatever he wanted.
his hands are all over you and yours are all over him, grabbing at each other because there was no way to get any closer like this. your thoughts, unlike before, are completely quiet, head empty and drunk on the sloppy kisses, mouthfuls of teeth clashing against each other. he was supposed to be gentle, he wanted to be gentle, yet now you’re pressed against the dresser and he’s kissing you hard.
it was wrong, but it felt too good. that was clear from the moment your kisses turn open-mouthed, lips clinging and tongues dancing. you shivered as both his hands held you by your hips once more, lifting you to sit on the edge of the oak furniture, caressing your hips bones through the thin fabric of your dress.
your hands rug at his shirt lightly, a silent plea for him to remove it, wanting to see and feel every inch of his divine body. he complies, separating his lips from your to reach over his shoulder and grip the silky shirt from the back, pulling it over his head, tossing it aside. your hands explore his naked torso, fingernails scratching along his skin as he loses himself in the taste of your kisses.
his hands dragged the long skirt of your gown up your legs, fingers ghosting over the supple skin of your calves and thighs before letting the cloth bunch up at your hips, winding your legs around his waist before lifting you off the dresser. you cling to him the way the thought of him cling to you for so long before this as he carries you. he lays you down gently, your head spinning as he kneeled on the edge of your bed and leaned over you, moving his lips from yours to mouth at your neck.
his hot breaths dance along your skin, across your collarbone, neck, pressing wet kisses down to the fabric covering your chest. you gasped softly as he brushed his teeth against your skin, a reminded that he could really break you if he wanted, but the feel of his lips against the curve of your neck, testing out the waters of your shoulder, made the intimidating thought vanish.
he teases the skin just above your neckline with nibbles that have you throwing your head back with soft whimpers, only encouraging him as his left hand kept one of your legs hitched up against his hips and his right undid the ribbons at the back of your dress. the fabric loosens and slips around, one sleeve falling over your shoulder slightly as he sat you up a little and pulled the dress over your head, discarding it and leaving you in your white ruffled bra and panties.
you’re dizzy, delirious with thirst—for his touch, his kisses, for everything his sharp lips could give you, for him to relieve the ache between your legs. you shiver as you’re left bare, nipples peaking through your bra, undergarments barely hiding your most precious parts. you try covering yourself with shaking arms, despite the little fabric still be there, but his hands move them aside, pulling them to rest on his bare chest. his eyelids flutter for a moment at the contact, your hands so much colder than his.
he leans back to look at your, hand at your back winding around to massage a handful of one breast, watching your breath hitch. “such a pretty girl, and all for me.”
“san…” you whimper aimlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“such an angel,” he teases again, thumb circling over your clothed nipple lightly, grinning at how helpless you looked, “supposedly protected by your father, by god, yet here you are, practically begging for a demon to fuck you.”
he presses himself closer and you can feel the thick and heavy weight of his cock smudge against your core, gasping softly as you eyes roll back, his tip prodding against the fabric covering your sensitive clit. his name falls from your lips once again, like a softly uttered prayer as you back arches. he takes the opportunity to undo the clasp of your bra, slipping the item off you before continuing to tease your perked nipples, leaning down to lick and suck at them as his hips grind against yours. you weren’t sure when he took off his pants, but you didn’t quite care, not when his impressive girth covered your core so well. sometimes the tip would dip into your entrance before leaving just as quickly, your toes curling as it stretched you and your panties.
he moans into your neck, grinding against you at just the right pace, his precum smearing all over you already-drenched panties. the feeling of his tip prodding at you clit so continuously makes you come quickly, and much harder than the other night when you touched yourself. you writhe beneath him, shaking and crying out his name as your back arches from the bed.
“hm, you’re so much prettier like this, angel, succumbing and throwing away any desire of virtue,” he mutters against your jaw, having sucked dark marks onto the skin right below it, his deep melodic voice.
angel. the way he calls you that makes you shiver. how could he do that? call you an angel while plucking out the feathers of the wings you’d once had?
when he enters you, it’s slow and deliberate, leaning down to whisper into your ear as he presses your hands into the white mattress—”heaven itself could not make you feel like this.”
“i’ve never… you know…” you had admitted shyly once you came down from the first orgasm he coaxed out of you.
he only chuckled, caressing your cheek. “i know. virgins always smell the sweetest.”
you pleaded for him to be gentle, and how could he say no when you were begging so prettily? now his length is barely halfway inside you and you’re already shaking, drenched and deprived pussy squeezing him tightly as he swallows down your broken moans, holding back him own. you feel abnormally good to him, unable to remember the last time he fucked such a perfect pussy.
as he reaches previously untouched parts of you, his tip brushes against a spongey little area that has you clenching, your breath hitching followed by a gasped moan as you come again. stars flood your vision, feeling like your body was on fire as your hands tightened under his. his tongue licks up every one of your sounds, smothering you as he pulled back a bit to press against the spot some more.
your moans soon turn into soft whines, twitching from overstimulation before he fially continues to enter you. it’s a tight fit, but he bottoms out eventually.
“fuck- you take me so well, you’re so perfect.” he groans, looking down at where he can see his tip bulging through your stomach.
you never imagined just how full you would feel, the stretch burning yet somehow still pleasurable as you squirm beneath him. he doesn’t wait, retracting and fucking into you slowly, letting you feel every curve and vein of his perfect cock.
he loses track, but he thinks he’s made you finish 4 times already. he’s not surprised, virginity leaves most people sensitive, and the fact he’s been teasing you in and out of your dreams for months likely didn’t help. san revels in it though, basks in the sounds you try to hold back so desperately. he isn’t lying when he says you’re pretty, hypnotised by your face contorted in pleasure and your body, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. they somehow still have an innocent glint in them, even as he manoeuvres you into different positions before finally easing you into your back once more.
you arousal is smeared all over yourself and him and the bedsheets. clear and sticky, glistening in the candlelight. at some point he slipped out of you to lean down and have a taste, groaning as you mewed above him. when his teeth grazed your abuser clit, you finish once again and a moment later he’s back inside you.
eventually, his hips stutter and a newfound pace takes over. “shit, angel, i’m gonna fill you up so good. would you like that?”
you can only nod frantically, brain turned to mush, jaw dropped to let out your lazy whimpers. you’ve lost track of everything but him; his touch, his voice, his influence. if you parents walked in or he disappeared, you’d only be able to lay there, completely helpless.
he never really stops, taking his time to worship your tight hole, knowing he’ll only be able to stop when he comes. though, by the looks of it, it’ll be sooner rather than later.
his groans and moans sound blissful in your ears, holding your name between his teeth with a low whimper. he spills his tick warm cum into you, the new sensation making you shake and squirm as you feel your insides being filled. another orgasm washed over you, though a little weaker, drunk on his scent and his saliva and him him him.
he kisses you, bruisingly, slipping out of yoh and letting you feel his seed seep out of your hole and run down your thighs, pussy coated in milky white. he slumps against you, detaching his lips from yours to gaze down at your barely open eyes.
it’s tiring, you can’t deny that, but it just feels so good. all your disgusting, fucked up thoughts were because of him. and now your most intimate parts will always be tainted by his hands. he calls you ‘good girl,’ yet you know you’ll never be good again.
choi san: voice like silk, touch like satin, incubus, demon. you’d think demons kill people, but your purity was his only homicide. he murdered your virginity. murderer.
but you do wish for him to kiss you again.
networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
fic taglist. @ta3baee @juyofans @sourkimchi @desirehorizon @revepixy @yungilia @cntlyv @mcendpoet @kimseungminsprincess @cookiechristie @bluesunpurplestar1117 @vnessalau @k1ttym0nkey @kyeomooniee @aarzoo-2 @pinkgirly-18-blog @yourfatherlucifer @puddingjongho @futuresoffantasies @reallywingedland @spenceatiny18 @im-def-not-ok @hwapou @a1sh1teruu @lover-ofallthingspretty @arabelleum @hoshiseon @guggu6gvai @seongsbf @honggatito @deltamoon666 @yunhoszn @1-800-fuccthisshit
#cromernet#wonderlandnet#cultofdionysusnet#pirateeznet#atzhouse#ateez#ateez x reader#choi san smut#san x reader#san reactions#san imagines#san smut#san fluff#san angst#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez fluff#ateez smut
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I love how in the Stitch event, Stitch TALKS. In sound! Probably TWST used voice files from the Lilo & Stitch series, and it's because Stitch has simple voice lines, but it's still cool to see someone talking in sound in the event!
Yeah, I definitely wasn’t expecting the Stitch voiced lines but they’re a nice, cute touch! He growls, grunts, and laughs but also says, “Stitch good”, and “ohana”.
fhksv;16?fFsgv Kind of expected him to lock eyes with his fellow gremlin Grim and then immediately spiral into chaos… Like, Stitch starts biting people and curls up into a ball to smack into Grim 💀 Then this guy has the audacity to climb onto bigger gremlins Lilia and Floyd’s shoulders (which is how they can appear if you roll their respective SSRs) and look all innocent… The range of expressions Stitch can make in his in-game models is impressive!! They really capture him well.
Side note: Damn, the TWST team really popped off with all these new assets 🥺 I expected the beach in the book to be picturesque, but the bookshelf in the Archives is also super aesthetically pleasing!
Also, also: GANTU LOOKS SO BiG AND GOOFy 🤪 Love that we can see his teefs when he talks/points and shouts at them to hand over 626 or get mcfucking lasered Ortho-approved method of retrieval, I’m sure… This man is NOT above killing high school kids to get their talking dog/j)
#twst#twisted wonderland#Stitch#Gantu#Floyd Leech#Lilia Vanrouge#Ortho Shroud#disney twisted wonderland#notes from the writing raven#spoilers#Grim
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hii! i am a writer and i am looking for blog and page themes to create a complete backup or library for all my fics. do you have any recs?
As I recommended in my studyblr ask, @pirateskinned has a lot of themes that are intended for lots of writing/text! Theme 81 has a lot of room for descriptions and sections to link to your other accounts/fic links.
I think in general a lot of rp theme makers will have themes and pages catered to blogs with a lot of writing and links. I'm not really involved in that community but @ctrlsugar, @vitaminholland, @springdoy, and @nonspace come to mind.
@engelthm's Lilo is specifically meant for writers and comes with a matching page with sections for characters and wip details.
@fukuo's Nyuir is also built with writing blogs in mind and has a lot of customization options.
@taezsthemes bookshelf page might also work for you!
Keep in mind with pages that you'll need to request permission to use JavaScript if the page theme contains any.
If anyone has any more recommendations feel free to mention them!
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blubery peach n rains?
🫐blueberry: do you have a favourite little show/movie?
i reaaaallly like bluey an curious george!! an also lilo an stitch :D
🌧rain: playing outside or inside?
inside!! but i do wanna play outside more..wanna go make mud pies an fairy houses
🍑peach: describe your dream nursery (if you have one)
mmm wan lots of soft pretty colors an a big bookshelf an a dollhouse…i like fuzzy rugs an glow in da dark stars too!! an i really want one of those montessori-style floor beds with a canopy frame over it that’s shaped like a little tent or playhouse :D
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Book #57 - Me, My Dad And The End Of The Rainbow by Benjamin Dean
(it's so charming. just. so lovely. I love it. my heart is a fluffy cloud of cotton candy.)
There is one shelf space on my bookshelf that is reserved for "books I love". Books that feel like a hug, like an adventure, like a deep truth, like a warm tea on the coldest day of the year, like a cool rain in the summer.
Like joy and celebration and love.
This book is now up there. Right between Earthsea and A Tale Of Two Cities, a jarring white-and-orange between two only slightly differing shades of dark petrol. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
In my headspace, this book has taken its place somewhere slightly else. There, it sits between Lilo&Stitch and the first Ice Age movie and this one kids' book where a small girl goes out looking for her family's baby donkey that has escaped and she gets lost herself but she finds the donkey and she cries and they cuddle on the beach until her dad finds them and they go home together (I freakin sobbed at this as a kid, kay).
The point is, this book now sits among the stories and things that my inner child hoards like a tiny, ferocious dragon, somwhere in my ribcage. And it will never let it leave.
Because this is the book I needed growing up. This is the story I needed at twelve years old, because maybe.... I don't know. Maybe some things would have slot into place a tiny bit sooner. Maybe the years I spent hating myself would have been a tiny bit shorter. Maybe I would have been a tiny bit more fine.
For the sake of the next generation, we need to keep writing stories like this. Because if there is even one that breaks through, even one that makes its way to the kid who really needs to hear it, then maybe this kid might turn out a little more okay.
And one story at a time, the world just might become a place that is a little more okay, too.
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Stuff On My Bookshelf 🖤
Stitch
#stuff on my shelf#booklr#bookblr#tsum tsum#bookshelf#lilo and stitch#harry potter#disney#march 2018
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Comfort Oikawa x F!Reader whose insecure about being neither skinny nor curvy. Right in between :)
My first headcanon, yay! I can relate to this so I wanted to write something about it. NOT PROOFREAD.
Content: Fluff/comfort
Warnings: mentions of body shape and size, idk if that affects anyone.
masterlist
You stood in your room with your t-shirt held up. You squished the little bit of chub on your tummy and looked yourself up and down. You then turned to the side and saw how your wider rib cage made you look bigger than you would like. Grabbing the little bit of skin that was on your sides, you let out a sigh. Looking down at your thighs, which contain both muscle and squishyness?, you saw how you had no thigh gap like those models you saw on Instagram earlier.
“Heyyy, Y/n. I’m here with some-”
You immediately dropped your shirt back down and turned to see your setter boyfriend at your bedroom door with takeout in his hand and a confused look on his face.
“What were you doing?” His tone was soft and sounded worried.
“Oh, nothing! What’d you get?” You tried changing the subject referring to the takeout bag in Tooru’s hand.
“I got us lunch, but baby, what were doing in the mirror before I came in here?” He set down the bag on your bookshelf and stepped toward you.
“I- I was...” You tried thinking of an excuse to why you were examining each and every aspect of your body.
“Sit down, I have a feeling I know what you were doing, but I’m not going to assume.” You both sat down on your bed and he took ahold of your hands. “Now, have you been looking at those Instagram models again?”
“I’m sorry that they’re literally everywhere?” You looked down at your hands, fingers interlocking with Tooru’s. “I’ll admit, I was looking at myself and possibly comparing myself to them in some way.”
“Y/n, do you know how much surgery some of them go through just to look like that? You are perfectly healthy and beautiful, naturally too!” He smiles, ”But, I also know buttering you up with compliments isn’t going to magically make these feelings go away, so just know that I love you for you, and your personality is glowing and your body is gorgeous.”
You felt your eyes water, you had never been complimented this much, and you knew that it was all sincere. Oikawa pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back. “Thank you, Tooru. That meant a lot.” He kissed your forehead and brushed a stray hair out of your face. “Can we eat now, I’m starving and that food smells really good.” You giggled.
“Of course, darling” He got the food and you both ate. After, you put on Lilo and Stitch (ofc) and cuddled.
(sorry I got a lil lazy at the end.)
Remember you’re beautiful and please take care of yourself! <3
#haikyu x reader#oikawa headcanons#oikawa x reader#oikawa x you#oikawa scenarios#oikawa fluff#haikyuu!!#oikawa comfort#oikawa x insecure reader
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Ohana
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Spencer’s in love with his new neighbor- and her son that’s just like him
Word Count: 3234
Warnings: Typical CM stuff (Amplification specifically), Single Parent!Reader, slight angst
“Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind, or forgotten.” -Lilo and Stitch
~
Spencer remembered the day you moved in. He remembered you lugging boxes up five flights of stairs by yourself. When he saw you struggling with a heavy box, trying to find your key, he decided to be bold and help.
“You look like you could use some assistance,” he said. “I’m, uh, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I live right across the hall.”
“Dr. (Y/N) (L/N),” you said.
“Here, let me hold the box for you.”
“Careful, it’s heavy,” you said, shifting it into his arms.
Spencer was jostled for a moment from the weight of the box, which was labeled (Y/N)’s Books. “So, MD or PhD?” he asked you as you searched for the right key.
“PhD, I’m too squeamish to be in the medical field,” you said with a laugh. It was the most beautiful sound Spencer had ever heard. “What about you?”
“What? Oh,” Spencer shook his head, focusing back on the conversation. “PhDs.”
You stopped sorting through your keys and turned to face Spencer. “Plural? Holy shit, are you a genius or something?”
Spencer let out a small laugh before saying, “Yeah, technically. But I don’t think intelligence can be accurately quantified.”
You finally found the right key and sighed as you heard the lock click. “Um, you can set the box with the others by the bookshelf.”
Spencer turned to see a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, much like his own, with boxes upon boxes of books in front of it. Some were labeled Academics, some had the same label as the one he was currently holding, and some had Oliver’s Books scrawled across the top.
“So, uh, where are you moving from?” he asked you, following the maze of boxes to your kitchen.
You offered him a bottle of water. “Erie, Pennsylvania. I got a job at Georgetown as an Associate Professor in the history department.”
“Oh, I guest lecture there every once in a while. In the criminology department. Uh, what’s your concentration?” Spencer took a sip from the water bottle.
“Medieval and Renaissance history,” you said. “I get to teach fun classes like Medieval Weaponry and Warfare.”
“Well, maybe I can sit in on that class someday.”
You smiled at him and that was when Spencer knew, you’d worked your way into his heart and you were never leaving.
~
Spencer remembered the first time he met Oliver. It was 53 hours, 27 minutes, and 15 seconds since the day he met you. He was coming home from an exhausting case when he saw you trying to balance paper shopping bags in your arms while opening your door. A small boy, no older than 6, stood behind you with oversized headphones and a mobile gaming system. He had a huge backpack on his shoulders.
“Ollie, take the keys. Ollie. Oliver.”
“You need some help?” Spencer asked, setting his go-bag in front of his door.
“Spencer, hi! Um, some help would be great.” Spencer took the bags from your arms so you could open the door. “Oh, uh, this is Oliver, my son.”
“Your-your son?” Spencer asked. If you had a son, it was likely you had a partner.
“Yep, he’s my boy.” You tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to say hi. The boy gave a small wave before going back to his game.
Spencer cleared his throat. “So, uh, where’s-where’s his father?”
“California. At least, that’s where he went when he left us.” Your hand was resting on top of your son’s head. He looked just like you. “Here, can you just set the bags on the counter?” you asked after opening the door. Oliver started down the hallway when you grabbed the loop of his backpack. “Not so fast. You know the rules. Homework first, then you can play your game again.”
Oliver groaned and handed you his game. You set it on the counter next to the bags of groceries.
“So, you’re raising him alone?” Spencer asked you.
You nodded and started unpacking the bags. “Yeah. You know, it’s been hard, but I can’t imagine life without my Ollie. He’s my heart and soul.”
~
Spencer and you became friends quite quickly. He told you about his job as a profiler, and you told him about working at the university. He would come over after cases and watch movies with you and Oliver. He’d help you put groceries away and he’d help you with simple tasks.
He also picked up on Oliver’s eccentricities. He reminded Spencer of his younger self. He didn’t talk much about kids at school and he breezed through schoolwork. His interests seemed heightened beyond what could be considered normal for a kid his age. One day, Spencer decided to ask about it as inconspicuously as he could.
The two of you were playing a game of chess when he brought it up.
“So, Oliver seems to be doing pretty well in school. What grade did you say he was in, second?”
“Yeah, the school bumped him up a grade. They wanted me to move him up to fourth, but I know how important it is to have friends your own age. And he already struggles to make friends.”
“He does? Why?”
You sighed, moving your knight. “Check. He was diagnosed as autistic when he was three. He doesn’t quite get social cues so it’s hard for him.”
Spencer moved his bishop and took your knight. “I’m sure his dad leaving didn’t help.”
“Well, he, uh, he never actually met his dad. Leo left me when I was four months pregnant.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
You waved him off. “It’s fine. It was almost seven years ago. I moved on, and I learned to balance motherhood with college. I completed my undergrad when he was only a few months old and I worked on graduate school when he was a high-energy toddler. It just proved to me that I can do anything. Checkmate.”
~
Spencer was enjoying a rare day off on a Tuesday when his phone started ringing. He groaned, thinking it was Hotch with an urgent case. But when he saw your name on the caller ID, his face lit up.
“(Y/N), hey!” he said. “What’s going on?”
“Ollie’s school just called me. He’s sick but I have classes and meetings all day so I can’t go get him and-”
“Are you asking if I can go get him?” Spencer said, cutting off your rambling.
“Yes! Could you, please? I’d be so so grateful.”
Spencer smiled, grabbing the spare key you gave him. “Of course.”
“Oh, thank you so much. There’s a spare car seat in the coat closet. I’ll call the school and let them know you’ll be picking him up. Thank you so much, Spencer.”
When Spencer got to the school, he was fidgety. He’d never spent time alone with your son before. And he wasn’t even sure if the kid liked him.
He walked into the front office and said, “Hi, my name is Spencer Reid, I’m here to pick up Oliver (L/N)?”
“Oh, (Y/N) said you were coming to get him. If I could just see your ID?” the receptionist asked. Spencer nodded and pulled out his driver’s license. “Great, if you could just sign Oliver out on the clipboard here, you’ll be good to go.”
Spencer scribbled his signature on the clipboard and the receptionist got up to get Oliver from the back office. Oliver followed the receptionist, his backpack on his shoulders and a paper bag clutched in his hands. His face was pale and he was swaying slightly.
“Hey, Ollie,” Spencer said.
“Hi, Spencer. Where’s my mom?”
“She got stuck at work, buddy. You’re gonna stay with me until she comes home, okay?”
Oliver nodded. “Okay.” He followed Spencer out of the school and climbed in the back of his car.
“Do you want me to put the window down?” Spencer offered, looking back at the boy in the mirror. When Oliver nodded, Spencer put his window down and pulled out of the parking lot.
After pulling into the parking garage, Spencer looked in the mirror again. Oliver was fast asleep, his head slumped against the door. Rather than waking the boy, Spencer unbuckled him and scooped him up in his arms.
Oliver wrapped his little, sweaty arms around Spencer’s neck as he was carried inside. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was how much he cared for the boy, but Spencer pressed a small kiss to the side of his head. Spencer dug your spare key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, setting Ollie down on the couch.
After covering him with a blanket, Spencer dug around in your kitchen for some ginger ale and crackers. After setting them on the coffee table, he heard a small voice say, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Spencer noticed Oliver watching him from the couch. He sat on the edge of the coffee table, handing Oliver the soda with a red bendy straw. “What do you mean, bud?”
“I know you like-like my mom. But you’re nice to me even when she’s not here. Matt didn’t do that. He called me names when Mom wasn’t around. He said I was weird.”
Spencer knew Matt was your ex from your time working at the Erie campus of Penn State. He was the first person you’d been with since Oliver’s father. And hearing how he treated Oliver didn’t sit right with Spencer.
Spencer sighed and looked at Oliver. “I’m nice to you because I like you, too. And I was a lot like you when I was your age.”
“You were?” Oliver handed the cup back to Spencer to set back on the table.
Spencer nodded. “People still think I’m weird. But being weird is good. How boring would the world be if everyone was normal?”
Oliver smiled. “It would be pretty boring,” he said.
“Get some rest, okay? It’ll help you feel better.”
You finally managed to sneak out of work and get home. When you opened the door, you saw Spencer sitting in the chair across from your sleeping son, reading a book.
“Hey,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.
“Hey. How is he?”
“He has a low-grade fever and he hasn’t been able to keep anything in his stomach. I’ve been having him nibble on some crackers but even that doesn’t stay down.”
“Oh, my poor boy. Thank you for staying with him.”
“Of course. You know I’d do anything for you, for both of you.”
~
The team got back from a particularly rough case dealing with kids. Hotch gave them the weekend off to recuperate.
“Anyone want to go grab a drink?” Derek offered to the group.
“Or five?” Emily added.
“What do you say, kid? You in?” Derek asked Spencer as the younger man packed up his bag.
“Oh, no, sorry. I, uh, I have plans,” he said with a smile before slipping out of the office. The team watched him hurry out of the building before sharing glances with each other.
“Spence has a girlfriend,” JJ realized.
“Pretty boy has a girlfriend?”
“Think about it. When does Spencer ever have plans? And when was the last time he didn’t stay to do paperwork when we were given the time off?”
“And he upgraded his phone out of nowhere,” Emily chimed in. “He went from one that had only the bare essentials to a smartphone he texts on all the time.”
“We need to find out who this girl is,” Morgan decided.
Spencer had been keeping you a secret from the team on purpose. Not because he was ashamed of you, or embarrassed, but because he knew the team saw him as the baby and they would be invasive if they ever found out. He didn’t want them to scare you away, he loved you too much to lose you. Though, he hadn’t said it out loud yet.
~
You and Spencer were walking down the street, Oliver asleep on Spencer’s back, snoring against his shoulder, his arms wrapped around Spencer’s neck.
“You have no idea how excited he is for you to see his science fair project,” you said. “It was all he could talk about all week.”
Spencer smiled and adjusted the boy on his back. “I think I’m just as excited to see his project, especially since he wouldn’t let me know anything about it.”
You reached the apartment complex and you dug your keys out of your bag. “Are you sure you can carry him up the stairs? I can wake him if you want me to.”
“No, it’s fine. I got him,” Spencer whispered, moving so that Oliver was clinging to his front rather than his back. He followed you up the stairs to your apartment. When you unlocked the door, he went straight to Oliver’s room and put the tired boy in his bed. He kissed Ollie’s forehead before flicking on his nightlight and leaving the room.
“Oh, hey,” you said when Spencer came out of the room, “Is he still out?”
“Yeah. I think we might have put him in a coma.”
You laughed and kissed Spencer’s cheek. “Go get some sleep. I know you’re tired, too.”
“I’m not-”
“Spence, you nearly fell asleep at the movies tonight. Go.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll go. But not without a kiss goodnight.”
You gave Spencer a kiss before shooing him across the hall. When Spencer unlocked his door and flicked on the light, he saw his team sitting in his living room.
“What the hell? What are you doing here? JJ, I gave you a key for emergencies!”
“This is an emergency!” Penelope said. “You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us!”
“Kid, please tell me she’s a single mother and you haven’t been keeping a family a secret from us for years,” said Morgan.
Spencer was still annoyed his friends broke into his apartment, but he couldn’t resist talking about you, especially when they’d already seen you. “Her name’s (Y/N), she moved in about a year ago with her son, Oliver. We’ve been dating for three months.”
“Spence, why didn’t you tell us?” JJ asked.
Spencer looked down at his shoes, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I didn’t want you scaring her off. I love her. I love both of them. And you guys can be intimidating.”
~
“Spencer’s coming to the science fair tonight, right?” Oliver asked you as you got him ready for school.
“That’s what he said,” you told him. “And you know Spencer likes to keep his promises.”
“I can’t wait to show him my mold project!”
“Okay, kiddo, we have to go. We don’t want to be late, do we?”
Meanwhile, Spencer was in the conference room at work, worrying about the latest case they’ve been presented. Someone was releasing a new strain of anthrax in public places around the DC area.
But under his stress over the case, he was worrying about you and Ollie. Maybe that’s why he worked so much harder on this one.
He and Morgan were sent to the suspect’s house, and Spencer entered first. Looking around, he noticed his mistake. When Morgan made his way to the door, he slammed and locked the door.
“Reid, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry.”
Spencer was infected. He knew there was a large chance he would die, but he couldn’t stop working. He needed to find the antidote. HIs breathing was getting heavier and he felt sweat dripping down his face. He pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Hey, Garcia?”
“Reid! Oh, my god, Derek told me what happened. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”
“That’s not important right now,” he said. “Um, can you- can you record a message for me? It’s for (Y/N) and Ollie.”
“Oh, uh, of course.” He heard her typing. “Okay. Go ahead.”
Spencer cleared the lump in his throat. “Uh, hi, (Y/N), it’s Spencer. Um, I-I wanted to let you know that, uh, I love you and…” he paused, taking a breath and blinking tears from his eyes, “and I’m so happy you let me into your life, into your family. And I want Ollie to know I love him, too. You- both of you- you’re my family.”
After that, things happened too fast. Spencer was being pulled out of the house and hosed down before being ushered to the waiting ambulance. He fell out of consciousness on the ride to the hospital.
When he woke up in a hospital bed, Morgan was sitting by his side.
“Are you eating Jell-O?” he asked, his voice cracking from being dry.
Morgan lit up with a smile. “Welcome back, kid.”
“Is there anymore Jell-O?”
Morgan chuckled. “You know, there’s some people here waiting for you.”
“What?”
Before Morgan could explain, you and Oliver burst into the room.
“Oh, my god, Spence!” You ran over and hugged him the best you could with the various medical equipment attached to him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” you scolded.
Oliver climbed onto the bed and curled up next to Spencer. “Yeah, don’t do that again,” he said. “How can I take you to Donuts with Dad if you’re dead?” He looked up at Spencer with his big doe-eyes and Spencer felt his heart break a little bit.
“You-you want me to go to Donuts with Dad with you? Even though I missed your science fair?”
Ollie nodded. “I don’t care that you missed my science fair. I just care that you’re still here.” He looked up and Spencer and wrapped his arms around his torso. “I love you, Spencer.” He gave Spencer a light squeeze.
Spencer smiled and ruffled his hair. “I love you too, Ollie.” He looked up at you. “And I love you, (Y/N).”
You smiled and gave Spencer a soft kiss.
“Ewww!” Ollie squealed, making you both laugh.
~
Spencer proposed to you about a year later. You’d both decided you didn’t want a huge wedding, just family and close friends. Rossi gave his backyard for you to use for the ceremony. It was simple and small, but it was special and wonderful. Spencer had flown Diana out, and you’d flown your parents out.
After the ceremony, Spencer announced that the both of you had a surprise for Ollie. He went inside Rossi’s house and returned with a manila envelope. He cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, in this envelope, I hold the most important document I have ever signed.” He opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. He cleared his throat. “This certificate certifies that Oliver B. (L/N) is the adopted child of Spencer W. Reid,” he read.
Oliver’s jaw dropped. “What? You’re- what?”
“Remember all those Saturdays Penelope watched you while Spencer and I went out? This is what we were doing,” you told him.
Oliver ran over to you and Spencer and wrapped you in hugs. The rest of Spencer’s team and your parents joined in. In just two years, your family had gone from just you and your son to more people than you knew what to do with. And that was more than okay with you.
~
“They may not have my eyes, they may not have my smile, but they have all my heart.” -Anonymous
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I've been forgetting to post here on tumblr recently and I apologize! here is a drawing of my bookshelf that I made about a week ago. I'm a hoarder tbh
#book#books#bookshelf#lilo and stitch#stitch#haruki murakami#monsta x#albums#cd#digital art#artists on tumblr#art#photoshop#dr21#drawing#artodrdr
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I got this fic bingo card that’s originally from lightveils on Twitter, and I decided to do a fic rec for it. (This was free for anyone to use!) All the fics on my list are One Direction fan fiction and are Larry fics unless otherwise specified. You can find my other fic recs here! Happy reading!
I also recorded a bonus episode of my podcast, Fanfictional, for this fic rec! You can find the link to that here or look for Fanfictional wherever you listen to podcasts.
🍯 A FIC YOU LOVE WITHOUT KNOWING THE SOURCE MATERIAL
There’s Such a Lot of World to See, @crinkle-eyed-boo (E, 125k, Doctor Who au, Louis is the Doctor, time travel, aliens, angst, slow burn, action and suspense, multiple story arcs)
🍯 A FIC WITH A PREMISE THAT SHOULDN’T WORK BUT DOES
The Second Hand Unwinds, @kingsofeverything (E, 51k, time travel, NASA, aerospace engineer Louis, age difference due to time travel, exes to lovers)
🍯 A FIC YOU’VE REREAD SEVERAL TIMES
Where the lights are beautiful, @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (M, 31k, a/b/o, accidental bonding, hate to love, misunderstandings, miscommunication, heat, rut, smut, character injury, angst with a happy ending)
🍯 A FIC YOU STILL REMEMBER MANY YEARS LATER
And Then a Bit, @infinitelymint (E, 158k, future canon, fake relationship, PR relationship, friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, smut)
🍯 A COMFORT FIC
Validation, @lululawrence (NR, 3k, meet cute, sad Louis, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, Harry validates parking and people)
🍯 A CATHARTIC FIC
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart), @louehvolution / thedeathchamber (E, 55k, au, angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, drama, smut, bl, illness)
🍯 A FIC YOU’D PRINT AND PUT ON YOUR BOOKSHELF
adjudication, @bottomlinsons (M, 75k, royal au, historical, prince Louis, prince Harry, enemies to lovers, love letters, betrayal, politics, historical conflict, slow burn, light angst with a happy ending, arranged marriage, poor communication)
🍯 A FIC YOU ASSOCIATE WITH A SONG
Take My Breath Away, @realitybetterthanfiction (E, 153k, Top Gun au, pilot Harry, flight instructor Louis, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, plane accident, character injury, recovery, PTSD)
🍯 A FIC THAT INSPIRES YOU
Woke Up Feeling Knotty, @jaerie (E, 8k, abo, alpha Harry, beta Louis, blogging, knotting, friends to lovers, mistaken identity, friends with benefits, bl)
🍯 A FIC THAT BROUGHT YOU ON BOARD A NEW SHIP
Untamed Hearts, @laynefaire (E, 68k, Ziam, surfing au, enemies to friends to lovers, summer, surfer Liam, artist Zayn, Lilo friendship, surfer Louis, side Larry, tension, pining, kissing, smut, angst with a happy ending)
🍯 A FIC YOU WISH COULD BE A MOVIE
Tied Down, @ham-palpert / hampalpert (E, 48k, crime au, criminal Louis, criminal Harry, multiple POVs, non-linear, detective Niall, detective Liam, undercover officer Zayn, drugs, prison, established relationship)
🍯 A FIC THAT LED YOU TO MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE AUTHOR
Yet in Thy Dark Streets Shineth, @juliusschmidt (M, 57k, Advent fic, Christmas, drama teacher Louis, pastor Harry, kids but not a kid fic, American fic, church au)
🍯 A FIC YOU’VE GUSHED ABOUT IRL
That’s What I’m Here For, @taggiecb (E, 46k, farm au, farmer Louis, farm hand Harry, boss/employee, age gap, demisexual Louis, small town Canada, adult children, sexuality crisis, mourning, depression, soft, happy ending, silver fox Louis)
🍯 A FIC YOU ASSOCIATE WITH A PLACE
When I Run Out of Road, @becomeawendybird / QuickedWeen (M, 24k, Giraffe Manor Kenya, historical au, 1930s, friends to lovers, giraffes)
🍯 A FIC THAT MADE YOU GASP OUT LOUD
Nothing But You On My Mind, @absoloutenonsense / nonsensedarling(E, 83k, royal au, enemies to lovers, Prince Harry, PR Maven Louis, bad boy Harry, pet names, secrets, dirty jokes)
🍯 A FIC YOU FOUND AT THE RIGHT TIME
And That’s The Tea, @2tiedships2 (M, 27k, soulmate au, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, soulmarks, strangers to lovers, coffee shop, barista Harry, NYC, humor, heat, scenting, omega panic attack, misunderstandings, soft)
🍯 A FIC THAT YOU WOULD READ FIC OF
Love Is A Rebellious Bird, @100percentsassy & @gloriaandrews (E, 134k, enemies to lovers au, London Symphony Orchestra, conductor Harry, concertmaster Louis, bullying, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, smut)
🍯 A FIC THAT MADE YOU LAUGH OUT LOUD
On the Go, @phd-mama / phdmama (T, 2k, meet cute, manscaping, misunderstandings, embarrassing situations)
🍯 A FIC WITH A LINE THAT YOU’VE MEMORISED BY HEART
I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow, @magicalrocketships / sunsetmog (E, 122k, Tomlinshaw, canon compliant, secret relationship, hate sex, love/hate, kink, watersports, angst with a happy ending, long distance)
🍯 A FIC THAT GAVE YOU BUTTERFLIES
The Colors Are Different, @goodmorningtoyouuniverse / GMTYUniverse (E, 46k, Tomlinshaw au, canon Nick, radio dj Louis, rivals, famous Harry, mutual friends with Harry, enemies to lovers, angst with a happy ending, smut)
🍯 A FIC THAT EMBODIES SOMETHING YOU VALUE IN LIFE
Saving Symphony Hall, @helloamhere (E, 124k, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, friendships, symphony, slow burn, banter, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, touch deprivation, past emotional abuse, anxiety, smut)
🍯 A FAVOURITE AU
Give A Little Sing To The Singles, @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (T, 31k, Advent fic, workplace au, coworkers, office, office party, pining, fluff, crack, humor)
🍯 A FIC YOU STAYED UP TOO LATE TO FINISH READING
Tell Me It’s The Strongest Shape, @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (E, 73k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw/Elgar Johnson, polyamory, coming out, grief/mourning, complicated relationships, smut, threesome, established relationship, fwb, famous/not famous, canon Nick, canon Elgar, model Louis, age difference, misunderstandings, negotiating boundaries)
🍯 A FIC THAT MADE YOU FEEL SEEN
Just Tell Me the Song and I’ll Sing It, @myownsparknow / myownspark (NR, 39k, college au, karaoke, music, baseball, pining, song fic, angst with a happy ending, romantic gestures, architecture major Louis, college baseball player Harry)
#fic rec#one direction fan fiction#larry fan fic#tomlinshaw fan fic#poly fic#allwasficrecs#podcast#i rambled for an hour and a half about these fics lol
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a writing prompt maybe? A Lilo and Stitch AU where Hannah is Lilo, Lex is Nani, and Ethan is David and then Wiggly is Stitch and Hannah's trying to teach him to be good.
Ok, I feel where you're coming from and I love it! This is so cute! I'm gonna be a bit flexible with it though, stray a bit from the strict Lilo and Stitch story. It's gonna be similar, but differ a bit.
Genre: Fluff/ Comedy
Words: 1966
TL;DR: When Hannah said she wanted a pet, Lex thought she would end up with dog or a rabbit like a normal person... not an eldritch.
TW: Swearing, mention of sexual themes? I don't know how to label it but you'll know it when you see it.
______________________________________________________
"No, Wiggly!" Hannah chided. "Stop! You got to be good, otherwise Lexie isn't gonna let me keep you!"
If Lex knew half of what was going on, Wiggly would be back to the pound in before you could say "eldritch". She had told Ethan to take Hannah out to get her a dog at the shelter. Duke had said maybe giving her another friend at home would help her to be a bit less hostile towards the kids at her school. Not that she was physically aggressive, but... ever since their mom had been sent to prison, apparently she'd been a bit snippy and reserved. It concerned her teachers. While Lex was technically old enough to be her legal guardian, Hannah's teachers were concerned that maybe she wasn't emotionally ready for that kind of responsibility. They were about ready to file a case for Hannah to be put into the foster system.
So... this was a desperate last attempt on Lex's part. Because she was *not* losing her little sister. She'd been through so much shit to get her mom out of the house. So that they would be safe. She wasn't letting anyone take that away. So... even though she may not really have the money to support Hannah *and* a dog, she'd agreed to let Hannah get one. There were very few people that Lex would trust on these matters, but... Duke was one of them. He knew the system. Mostly because he was a part of it. But he also knew Lex, and he knew that she was the right person to be caring for Hannah. So... if he thought that this was going to help, she'd do it.
But... she probably should have gone with Hannah herself to get it. Because Ethan... was not the brightest, and he was prone to completely crumbling for Hannah. Which is precisely what had happened at the pet store that afternoon. He'd suggested a cute little chihuahua with a limp paw, or a sweet maltese, but... Hannah had gone right for the weird, green thing. Was it even a dog? Probably not. It had tentacles and it walked on two legs. Had the people at the shelter called it a dog anyways? Yes. Because what else were they supposed to call it? The only indication they'd gotten as to what he was was a small collar reading 'Wiggly'- which didn't help at all. Look, they'd just found it curled up behind Toy Zone one night, and it was their duty to care for him and then get him to a family.
Things had not been easy for Hannah so far. It seemed her little green friend had a thing for getting into trouble... and tastes for household furniture. He'd already eaten two of her books and one of her sock dolls. Right now, she was trying to get him to stop eating one of her pillows. He seemed to revel in tearing his prey apart before eating it. His eyes got all wild, and... he looked so happy that Hannah almost didn't want to stop him. But she had to, because if he destroyed anything noticeable he'd be gone. And Webby had told her that she needed to pick this little guy. He seemed to make 'hr' sound in disappointment. But what came next was far from anything Hannah would have expected him to do.
"But Banana... it's so yummy-wum!" A goofy, light and child-like singsong tenor voice protested.
"You talk." Hannah breathed, eyes widening.
"Only to you, Hannah Banana." Wiggly giggled. "You are the only person who can hear my voice."
"Is that why Webby told me to get you?" Hannah asked, curious. He seemed to scowl at the mention of her name.
"Stupid bitch... thinks I need to rehabilitate." Wiggly grumbled.
"What's rehabilitate?" Hannah asked.
"It means... I've been very naughty." Wiggly told her. Hannah cringed at that.
"Don't... Mom..." Hannah mumbled.
"I've been bad." Wiggly corrected himself. "So she sent me to you. She thinks you can make me good."
"Me?" Hannah blinked.
"She says we'll be good for each other." Wiggly mocked her, clearly not happy about it. "She wants me to be your fwendy-wend. Because we both need a fwendy-wend, according to her."
"I don't *need* any friends." Hannah shook her head, her mood dampened by that implication. "I got Lexie and E."
"That's not what the teachy-weachers think." Wiggly cooed, the tiniest hint of amusement in his tone.
"Yeah, well... they're dumb!" Hannah fumed, turning on her bed and putting a pillow over head in frustration. That was a sore subject for her.
Hannah knew what the teachers thought of her. She knew what everyone thought. She didn't care. She knew who she was, and... she knew what she needed. She knew that she shouldn't have to put up with the shit the kids at her school gave her. She knew that they chose her because she was the easy target. Because they could get away with blaming her for anything. She was that girl from the trailer at the edge of the Witchwood, whose mom had gone to jail. That was enough for them to paint her as the punk. But that wasn't who she was, and... she hated that it's what people thought. She didn't even do anything wrong. She never said the things they said she did. She took a few deep breaths under the pillows, trying to calm down.
"That pillow-willow isn't going to help, Banana." Wiggly sighed. "My voice is in your head. "Like Webby."
"Leave me alone!" Hannah snapped.
"Nuh uh..." Wiggly tutted. "Webby says I have to help you be happy again before I can go back to my homey-wome."
"Yeah? You're not doing a very good job!" Hannah huffed. "Don't wanna talk right now."
"But Webby says-" Wiggly started.
"Webby can be a stupid bitch!" Hannah cut him off, frustrated to the point of tears.
"Uh oh! That's not very nice!" Wiggly chided.
"Just... shut up!" Hannah groaned.
"Fine." Wiggly sighed.
He sat on the edge of her bed for a minute as Hannah remained unmoving, trying to cool off. He dangled his feet for a moment before hopping off and walking over to a bookshelf. He tipped it over, letting everything crash and giggling. He surveyed the ruins, grabbing a small clay structure. He started to nibble on it softly, satisfied with it's taste. At around that precise moment, Lex entered the room. She was immediately drawn to Hannah on the bed. Her brows furrowed, and she sat down on the edge of it, rubbing Hannah's back. She was more confused than anything. Ethan had said she was so happy after getting her dog.
"Hannah Banana... what's wrong?" Lex cooed.
"Nothing... just annoyed." Hannah sighed, pulling the pillow off her head and setting it on the bed. "Teachers think I'm bad 'cause of Mom, don't they?"
"Yeah... yeah, Mom kinda gave us a bad rep." Lex sighed. "We gotta fight hard to make people see we're not her."
"Yeah, but... I don't wanna fight." Hannah grumbled.
"I don't either." Lex admitted. "Soon... we won't need to. Soon we'll have California. We just gotta stick it out and make it through life here until I make enough money to get us out of here."
"Okay." Hannah nodded, biting her lip, staying put.
Lex sighed, looking down at her feet. Sometimes he just didn't know what to say to Hannah. It was then that she noticed Wiggly crunching on the little clay figurine, surrounded by the mess of everything Wiggly had broken. It was one of a dog that Hannah had made at a birthday party when she was younger. She'd named him Bruno. He wasn't so special to *Hannah* anymore, but... it was to Lex. Wiggly and Lex looked each other in the eye for a moment, and Wiggly seemed to freeze, already knowing he was in trouble. Lex's eyes widened both in fear and in shock.
"Hannah... what the fuck is that thing?" Lex tried to ask levelly, but her tone was shaky.
"Oh, that's Wiggly." Hannah shrugged, sitting up. "He's our new dog."
"Banana... that's not a dog." Lex chuckled nervously. "It has fucking tentacles..."
"He's cute!" Hannah giggled. And she genuinely believed that, even if it was a jab at Wiggly. She knew he wouldn't want to be seen as cute. He grumbled at that and she stuck her tongue out at him discreetly.
"Okay... I think we may need to take Wiggly back to the pound." Lex tried to ease gently. "I... don't even fucking know where to begin taking care of him, and clearly you don't either because he's eating Bruno. I mean... look what he did, Banana! Look at your stuff!"
"Wiggly! I told you to stop eating stuff!" Hannah chided.
"Sorry, Banana! I'm just so hungry!" Wiggly whined. "I need to fill my belly-well!"
"Okay... the little noises are cute." Lex chuckled softly. Hannah blinked, confused, before remembering that Lex couldn't hear him. "You can't just tell an animal to do something. You gotta train it."
"Oh." Hannah blinked. "I think... think he's hungry."
"Yeah... we gotta get him some real food." Lex agreed. "Do you know what he eats?"
"Um..." Hannah bit her lip. She gave him a look. He shrugged. She turned to Lex, shrugging. "Clay?"
"This is yummy." Wiggly nodded.
"We can't feed him clay, banana... I don't think anyone can digest it right." Lex laughed. "This is why we should go get a dog! Let the people at the pound deal with this freak of nature!"
"Well that wasn't very friendly!" Wiggly pouted.
"Webby told me this one." Hannah insisted, ignoring Wiggly.
"Really?" Lex groaned, rolling her eyes.
"I dunno why! Said... said we gotta help him get good." Hannah shrugged. "But... Webby said it, so we gotta."
"Maybe... maybe Webby can find someone else to help him get good?" Lex sighed. "Banana, this isn't Disney. We're not Lilo and Stitch."
"Nani." Hannah corrected. "Lilo and Nani. And Ethan's David."
"No, banana. We're not." Lex sighed, shaking her head. "We're Lexie and Hannah and E. And Lexie is already having enough trouble with child services *without* that thing around. I don't know what it is, and I get the feeling that no one does. I don't think he's from around here, banana. We should leave him to be taken care of by someone who knows how to do it right."
"But Webby told me!" Hannah pouted. "Please! Just a week."
"Just a..." Lex muttered, sighing again. She bit her lip. She knew she would be insane to give in. But... she'd also be insane not to. Clearly Hannah was emotionally attached to this. And hey, at the end of the week, she could take the thing back. "Fine. Fine, we can keep him for a week and see how it goes. But if you can't train him to behave in a week, then he goes back to the pound. Deal?"
"Deal!" Hannah beamed. She smirked at Wiggly. "Welcome to the family!"
Wiggly rolled his eyes, putting on the most obviously fake 'smile' Hannah had ever seen on a pet. Clearly, he didn't think he was all that bad. But Webby had thought he needed the help, and Webby was usually right about these things. So whether he wanted to or not, it was now hannah's mission to make him good. She didn't know the half of what she was getting into, or what the week ahead would entail. But neither did Wiggly. Wiggly didn't know the half of what life on earth could do to you. And maybe, just maybe, that was a good thing. Because people can find the most beautiful things right where they least expect them to be.
#hannah foster#wiggly black friday#wiggog y'wrath#webby black friday#webby nightmare time#lex foster#starkid#black friday#nightmare time#hatchetfield#hatchetverse#oneshot#one shot#starkid fanfiction#send more requests!#lilo and stitch#tw: swearing
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happy birthday, doc
Summary: Picani enjoys the gifts his friends have given him for his birthday. And, after a long day of work, his boyfriend finally shows up.
Ship: Romantic Remile (Remy/Sleep x Picani)
word count: 1026
warnings: i don’t think there are any!
---
Emile Picani leaned back in his chair, his fingers coming up from where they were previously typing furiously to push his glasses into his hair. His eyes were tired, and his day had been full of meetings and sessions, and he got to talk about some of his favorite shows. Somehow, his sessions always devolved into that, and he wasn’t going to complain. Any day where he got to talk about the things he loved and help his patients was a good day.
He glanced around his new office; his friends had all shuffled in during his lunch hour, bombarding him with hugs and gift bags. He was grateful and happy.
Picani picked up the polaroid photo that Patton had snapped of them all crammed together in front of the bookshelf. It always made him laugh when he realized just how different all of his friends were but how perfectly they melded into a group. In the photo, Picani was squished between Patton and Roman, while Roman was pulling Virgil and Remus into the shot, the anxious man trying to hide his smile and the mustached man making a ridiculous facial expression. Janus, as always, lurked further behind Patton, and Logan was clearly rolling his eyes in the photo, but he was smiling. A rare occasion, but a beautiful thing nonetheless.
The polaroid camera was a very Patton-y gift, and Emile loved that he could pin the photos up on his walls and cork boards, or settle them beside his figurines on the shelves. Someday, hopefully soon, Picani would get a selfie with each of his friends individually. The pale pink camera was perfect to fit into his messenger bag
Roman had gifted him a collector’s edition boxed set of all of the Studio Ghibli films. He of course had already owned all of the films, but not this special collection of them that also came with some figurines. The theatrical man boasted about how he had searched far and wide, going into special shops and contacting collectors until he found one who could sell him the box in pristine condition.
Logan was the practical one, and so Emile was not surprised when he opened the gift bag to find a collection of three ties. But they weren’t plain or boring ties, like the ones that Logan often wore to appear as professional as possible. No, these were themed. One had the symbols of the four nations from Avatar: The Last Airbender in a fun pattern, another had the wildflowers from the animated version of Alice in Wonderland, and the third was inspired by She-Ra. Emile would definitely be wearing these ties more than any other.
Janus was also fairly practical, and had handed him a collection of a variety of teas; these, too, were inspired by animated shows, ranging from Alice in Wonderland to Duck Tales. Emile almost was hesitant to drink them, but they sounded so delicious, and he’d probably end up purchasing more of them once these ones had been consumed.
Virgil had held his gift bag nervously behind him, as expected, but handed it over to Picani and watched with worried eyes as the therapist pulled out a Jack and Sally figurine. Roman joked about how Virgil probably had wanted to keep it for himself, and Virgil admitted that he had bought one for himself as well. Picani got up from his seat immediately and found a spot on the shelf where it would sit perfectly. Once he got a selfie with the dark and brooding man, he’d set it right next to the figurine.
Remus’ gift was rather unexpected, though no one ever really knew what to expect from the mustached man. Still, when Picani had torn apart the packaging to reveal a handmade Scrump doll from Lilo and Stitch, there were audible gasps throughout the room. They’d all known that Remus was creative and a bit wild, but this was something so heartfelt and yet had the same weird essence as the doll from the film. Even Logan admitted that the craftwork was perfect, and Remus beamed proudly when he announced that he had, in fact, not used any eggs. Emile had settled the doll onto his shelf, where the Stitch plushie used to be.
Picani slowly packed up his things, settling most of his gifts (except for the Jack and Sally figurine and the Scrump doll) into his messenger. He switched off the lights in the office, and then headed out, through the hallways of the buildings, and out the front entrance. Waiting for him, with an apologetic smile, was Remy.
“Hey, babes-” he started, and Emile raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come with the others earlier, I slept in, and-”
“Yeah, I figured. It’s alright,” Picani responded, adjusting the way his messenger bag was settled on his shoulder. “Look, it’s been a long day, let’s just go home, okay?”
“Emi, you’re upset,” Remy began, and Emile just shook his head, glancing up at the stars that were beginning to show over their heads.
“I’m not upset. You were up late last night because of your insomnia. If I was upset, that’d make me a pretty terrible boyfriend, wouldn’t it?” He mused, and he felt Remy step closer to him.
“Missing your birthday celebrations makes me a terrible boyfriend,” Remy countered, and once again, Emile shook his head. “Emi, please, let me feel bad about this.” Emile laughed a little, then glanced at Remy.
“You know I would never do that, babe,” he responded curtly, and Remy sighed. “You’re here now. Let’s go home, order some Chinese food, snuggle in our pajamas, and watch all of these collector’s DVDs that Roman bought for me, okay?” Remy sighed again, knowing that his boyfriend was stubborn and lovely, and nodded, his fingers trailing until he grabbed Emile’s chin, dipping down until their lips met. Emile scrambled to wrap his arms around Remy’s neck, loving the feeling of the familiar leather jacket.
The two finally separated, and Remy nodded to his motorcycle. “Hop on, doc. Oh, and happy birthday, babes.”
---
[masterlist] [AO3]
if you liked this, please consider reblogging! it helps creators like me.
#amanda writes sanders sides fic#cartoon therapy#emile picani#sanders sides#remile#remy sanders#ts remy#ts sleep#ts picani#ts emile#ts remile#romantic remile
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Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door Part 4
TW: Lots of Swearing, Unreality, Kidnap, It Gets Really Dirty At One Point
Previous, Masterpost, Next
Sorry it is a week late, I should be able to write more now that I don't have to go out for just under 7 hours a day by law. If you want me to mention you when I post, ask, if you want me to tag something or add another trigger, also ask.
Enjoy!
Word Count:3975
EDWARD HAD NO CLUE WHERE THEY WERE. All they knew was it was within an hour of the flat, and that they weren’t there by choice. What’s going on you might ask me? Why are they there? Well, in order to tell you that, I have to go back to just after they arrived back at home, around 8 hours before.
Edward had spent the last half an hour trying to adjust their room to be exactly how they wanted it, however, they were failing dismally. Despite the lack of actual stuff to put in the room, they physically could not find something that felt right enough and a way that the room felt like home. Probably just because of the aftermath of being forced out of their home literally less than 24 hours before, but still, they tried everything and just gradually made a bigger and bigger mess of the place, eventually just stopping to look at what they’d done and realising they couldn’t see half of the stuff. It was at this point they decided to stop. Grabbing the few things they’d need urgently, they managed to find a way to the single bed in the corner of the room looking out at it. To their right lay the white door, and in front of them was the single window. To the left of the window was a bookshelf with stuff strewn over it and on the opposite side was a desk and chair. Next to them was a small chest of draws that they stored the few things they grabbed in, before laying down and trying not to think. It was at this point the welcome distraction of Isi knocked on the door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure, could use a distraction.”
“Why?” it asked, gently pushing open the door. “Oh…it looks like you’ve dropped a bomb in here.”
“Yeah. It does, doesn’t it?”
“You want some help after what I came here for?”
“Please.”
“Ok, now, what did you think of Vanny?”
“Why?”
“Just want to know.”
“Okay. Not how I was expecting, but in a good way.”
“Why, what were you expecting?”
“Heavily opinionated, extrovert. Can’t really explain it more than that.”
“It’s cause of Biff right?”
“Probably. Still thought she’d be an extrovert though, even without Biff.”
“Cool. And how is Vanny different to how you were expecting?”
“She’s pretty quiet, to the point, and honestly she seems cool to me.”
“Cool. That’s good. Now then, how about this room?”
It was another half an hour later when Vanny called them for their sleepover, and honestly, it looked worse than when it started. Somehow, despite it already being war zone, Isi turned it into a nuclear bomb site. You could not see any of the surfaces. But Edward did not care that much- all they knew was they had fun with a friend. And in the process made more work for themselves, but, oh well, they wouldn’t need their bedroom tonight, and they could probably sort it out tomorrow. Quickly they slipped on some comfortable clothes, before emerging to find Isi in the most laid-back clothes they had seen them in and Vanny somehow looking less laid-back than normal. “Come on in Edward and sit down. We’re planning on starting with movies and pizza, before moving onto games. Any requests?” Vanny inquired, beckoning them closer.
“No, thank you,” replied Edward, gently sitting down on the floor, taking a few of the cushions off of the pile to sit on.
“Ok, well we’re starting with Lilo and Stich, then Coraline and finally RED. You ok with all of those?”
“Sure.”
“Ok, good, shall we get started?”
It was half an hour later that the silence was broken. Edward had spent the time either sat on the arm of a chair, or on the cushion on the floor, while Vanny and Isi were cuddled up on one end of the sofa. Surprisingly, Edward was the one that broke the silence. It took them a quarter of an hour to get the confidence to ask. “Should we build a pillow fort?”
“Yes, I haven’t built one since I was a kid!” Vanny exclaimed in approval.
“Why did you think we brought all of the blankets out? If we order pizza, by the time we’ve built it, it’ll be here.” Isi inputted
“Thank, you, that sounds good.” Edward replied
“Of course, and don’t worry too much. This will be the best pillow fort ever.” Isi, replied realising that it was probably with Ansel that they last built one.
“Yeah, it will.” Vanny confidently added.
If you already guessed from the fact that with more than one person, all they did was create a bigger mess, you can imagine what the room looked like. I mean, what did you expect? I mean, they managed kind of a pillow fort. There were walls and a roof and pillows on the floor, but the rest of the room that they couldn’t see looked like someone dropped a bunch of pillows on the building, and if they even tried to leave, half of it would fall down, but they had fun and managed something. That was all that mattered. The pizzas had arrived before they blocked themselves in and they had grabbed as many drinks and sweets as possible to stock the fort with. By this point they were all laying on the floor. “So, what should we do next?”
“Truth or dare?” Vanny asked.
“Really?” Isi groaned.
“Come on, it would be a good idea to get to know each other. You down Edward?”
“Fine,” Isi sighed
“Sure,” they answered.
They had all just about managed to drag out three rounds of truth or dare, and it had landed on Edward. All of them were running out so they were expecting them to just pass their round to the others. “Both of you, truth or dare?”
They looked at each other, kinda worried. “Truth,” they replied, almost in unison.
“How did you meet?” They inquired, not realising what they had got into, while Vanny and Isi were both stuck remembering how they did meet.
It was 10 years ago that they first met, aged 16, though not in the best circumstances. For both of them everything seemed to be going wrong that day, literally everything. Big and small. But still, they regarded it as one of their better days- just because they found each other. [A/N: will be writing a short dedicated to this later]
However during this flashback, they left Edward alone in a sense- both were zoned out looking into the distance, and after a while, they began to worry about them. It’s not every day you see your friends just completely go unresponsive while still being awake. Kinda creeped them out. So, they decided to wait it out in their room, where they couldn’t see the creepy half-dead look the others were giving everything. But they had forgotten the fact it was a chaotic mess, despite everyone’s best efforts to clean up. Not even they knew how it wasn’t better. So, they grabbed a few things off their bedside table that they might urgently need and shoved them in their backpack, slinging it on their shoulder and entering the kitchen, grabbing the pen and piece of paper they saw when they entered. Once they had done this, they grabbed a second piece of paper, wrote a note for when the two woke up, picking up a set of keys and leaving, quietly and carefully through the front door.
You see, Edward did not know the city. That they’d already established, from the fact that Isi was practically leading them around by tugging on their sleeve. Yeah, they didn’t particularly like that, knowing that they would be useless if the Guardians arrived and they had to leave quickly. So, they had decided to create a map of the surrounding area, noting the landmarks along the way. Hopefully they wouldn’t get lost. If they did they’d have to talk to people, but oh well. It would make them feel better they decided, as they noted down the number flat and the name of the flat block as a dot in the centre of the paper. As they walked down to the ground floor of the block, they realised how late it was- you could barely see the sun, and light was quickly fading beyond the horizon. Unfortunately, this meant it wasn’t as safe as first predicted. Thankfully, angels don’t get hurt unless a guardian or demon does it.
“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called out. “I couldn’t help but notice you came out of Vanny’s place, and I was wondering if she was ok, I haven’t seen her in a while.” Turning on their heels, they looked for the source of the voice, finding it to be an older looking woman, on the second floor of the building.
“Hello, yes I did come from Vanny’s, currently me and my friend are staying with her,” Edward replied as calm as they could manage, trying not to let slip that said friend was most likely known to be dead.
“So, she’s finally letting people in, that’s good. She’s been so lonely since Isi died, all of us were worried about her. Look after her for me will you?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. What is your name?”
“I am Edward. And you?”
“Margret, Margret Grey. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“I’d better go, see you around.”
“See you.” They replied, watching as she picked up a newspaper of the floor, before disappearing into a flat. Number 25. They made a mental note of it, in case they ever needed any help. The conversation went better than they were expecting. Almost too well. They turned on their heel, leaving through which ever path they believed would be the best, making a note of every junction and landmark along the way, keeping an eye on the rapidly fading light.
It was only an hour later that Edward realised how stupid an idea they had. First, it was now dark. Very dark. Almost pitch black. Second, they had chosen the wrong path. Somehow they ended up in an alleyway, somewhere. It looked vaguely threatening, with the graffiti and sense of someone watching you. Plus, the little canisters of who knows what were coating the floor. All they knew is it was probably a drug, and likely not a legal one at that. Never a brilliant sign. And finally, they had no clue where they were. Unsurprisingly, their map was practically useless, and just a jumble of lines. Literally, it looked like someone had grabbed a piece of paper and randomly squiggled on it. Almost certainly, they were regretting their choice. And the lack of forethought to check they had their phone on them. “Just wander around until you find a main road,” they thought, “What could possibly go wrong?” They didn’t bother answering that. They knew something would.
As you know, it was 8 hours after they got home. At least, as far as they knew. Who knew how reliable the weird people’s word was? They remembered that decision, and nothing else. It was as if they passed out then. I mean, they knew they had passed out at some point, but it wasn’t right there in that alley was it? They strained trying to remember what had happened, and was severely failing. Then they checked the rope tied around them. Solid- no way out. As far as they knew they would be trapped there forever. This increasingly depressing train of thought was disturbed by the sounds of the person returning, not that they could see who had taken them, not with the lights off. The only thing they could tell was that they were under another floor, and that the floor was concrete. That was it. The mysterious voice of the person holding them hostage startled them from this tangent.
“Hello Edward. You’re probably wondering what you are doing here. Well, you’ll never know. So, stay here for a while. Not that you can leave. Anyway, you just have to stay here until our friend comes back, then you might be able to go. OK?”
Edward nodded, confused as the kidnapper removed the gag they had placed on them. They got a small idea, one that would be unwise, but it worked in Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, why wouldn’t it work in real life as well?
Above them, Salami was sat. Yep, the three of them had kidnapped them. Despite telling Satan they wouldn’t interact. I mean, what did he expect? You can’t tell someone not to do something and expect them to not then do it. Especially the three who were unfazed with breaking his rules, and who he didn’t mind breaking the rules because they usually managed to complete the job. They had no clue how they found them so quickly- what was the chances that they would stumble into the road leading straight to their house, and that they would be so easy to just take. That was the only reason they realised how much help Isi and Edward would need. If they could barely defend themselves, how did they expect to take over heaven? So, they interfered. Eventually, Sal decided to go check on the two, finding them locked in combat. They were at opposite each other, and so, they pulled up a chair next to Sprite.
“Are you that interested in me that you want me to stay?”
“Fuck you.”
“Why don’t you darling?~”
“Why don’t you shut your pretty mouth?”
“Why don’t you do it for me?”
“You know, you’re pretty handsome for a bastard.”
“Aww, you think I’m handsome?”
“No, bitch. Go fuck yourself.”
“Why don’t you fuck me instead?”
“What’s up?” asked Sal, raising their eyebrows.
“I don’t know, wanna see?” Edward quickly replied, with no idea how they managed to keep it up for this long.
“No thank you, why would I want to see a matchstick?”
“It may be a matchstick, but I sure know how to show you a good time.” Edward lied. They really didn’t.
“Who says you’d be the one showing the other a good time? By the end of the night, you would be a blubbering mess.”
“Don’t be so sure, you look like you wouldn’t hold up that long.”
“Looks are deceptive dear, just like you looking like you would be unable to flirt. And like a virgin.”
“As you said, looks are deceptive.”
“h, but I can tell, the second part is true. Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t a slut.”
“And I’m surprised you’re able to talk. I thought I would have broken you by now.”
“Try harder then.”
“Oh, I certainly can if you want me to.”
“Yeah right, you look 5 seconds away from being shattered.”
“You’re the only ones who will end up shattered. Don’t think I didn’t notice you watching us, person 1.”
“Well, I couldn’t miss that conversation, if it goes any further, I might have to gag you.”
“Kinky.”
“I’m done now, let’s go back upstairs.”
“Don’t be too loud now, the walls are thin.”
“Yeah right, as if you wouldn’t enjoy it.”
“Oh, I would, but the neighbours wouldn’t, I’m sure.”
“Fuck off.”
“Oh, but we’re having so much fun.”
“You might, asshole.”
“So, you’re denying the truth now are you? Why would you stay if you weren’t enjoying yourself?”
“To break you. Let’s go.” Sprite answered turning on their heels.
“God that was exhausting. And impossible to end.” Sal stated, not thinking that Edward would hear him.
“It would be even more tiring if I did what I wanted to you, and it wouldn’t have to end if you didn’t want it to.”
“Dream on, whore.” He said closing the door on themselves.
“Wow, that went better than I expected,” Edward thought, “I kept up for who knows how long.” Then they sat and waited, falling back asleep pretty quickly.
Meanwhile, Isi and Vanny were panicking. I mean, who wouldn’t? It was about half an hour after Edward left that they snapped out of whatever trance they were in, and realised that they were gone. Both took a few minutes to realise what had happened, and after looking at a clock realised they had left Edward alone for way too long. Vanny was the one who saw the note, calming Isi who had ran around the flat looking for them worried that they had been kidnapped or worse, taken back to heaven. That didn’t fully tell them that they were Ok, and the fact they didn’t take their phone- it couldn’t help but worry. Not after everything. Eventually they had managed to get to sleep, reassuring themselves that they would turn up in the morning, but it was to no avail-while Edward was happily flirting with their captors, it had realised they were not coming home anytime soon. Something odd for the size of the city. But it knew it couldn’t do anything so it stayed where it was.
It was half an hour later that Edward woke back up, and even then, only because the door had slammed. Muffled above they heard 3 voices. The two from earlier, and a third, deeper voice. An unfamiliar one, yet it still felt as though they had heard it before. Straining, they listened in. “I couldn’t find them anywhere. This is going to be hopeless isn’t it?”
“We found them, they’re in the basement. I will warn you their flirting is on par with yours.”
“Thanks darlings. I’ll check them out later. Any other news?”
“Not beyond finding a map with only one legible location written down, that must be their place.”
“Perfect. We can check that out later, if we can’t get them to work with us.”
“OK.”
“I’ll go down then, since there is nothing else to do.”
“Good luck, you’ll need it.”
They heard the door gently click, and watched the person descend down the stair they could now just about make out from the time they had to let their eyes adjust to the gloom. The room was mostly empty, except for the shelves they could see out of the corner of their eye with what seemed to be some sort of weaponry on it. They hoped they wouldn’t use it on them.
“Hello, Edward. Might I say, you look so much more handsome in person than from your photo.”
“Thank you. How did you get my photo?” They asked, knowing they wouldn’t reveal it, but hoping to disarm them slightly.
“My sources shall stay unknown. The reason I’m here is to ask for you to join us darling. You’d be a fool not to.”
“Why should I join you? I haven’t seen any of you yet and how am I supposed to trust a kidnapper?”
“We are not going to keep you forever, the second we have your answer you are free to leave, but I recommend you don’t be rash. We have something you want. You have something we want.”
“So, you are suggesting an alliance? What is it that you want from me?”
“You and your little friend Isi on our side, helping us.”
“And what would I get in return?”
“Protection, information, and help with your so called “revolution” of 2 people against all of the angels. I know you are looking for help. But are you willing to accept it?”
They pondered the kidnapper’s offer. It did sound good. They needed help, and protection would be good as well. The information they could give would probably be priceless. However, were they really meant to trust a faceless person who could easily stab them in the back? They didn’t know.
“I will consider it, but only if I can know who you three are and why are interested in me and Isi.”
“Alright. My name is Riley, he/him. I will untie you. All of the windows and doors are locked and we know where you live. You will not be able to escape.”
“Ok.” Edward replied.
“Now then, no running or shifty business. I wouldn’t want to have to ruin that pretty face of yours,” he said warningly as he gradually untied the mass of knots holding them to the chair. Gradually he became more and more frustrated, as the knots simply wouldn’t come undone. At all. You couldn’t even cut it- it was all tied together. “Who the fuck tied these knots?” he shouted upstairs. Both of the people wandered downstairs to watch him fail at untying them. “We did,” one of them replied. “You going to help?”
“No, I think you’re doing fine on your own.”
For Edward and Riley it went painfully slowly, but you could tell the other two were enjoying themselves at their pain. It felt like hours later that he had managed to get them untied. Mainly because it was- it took him around an hour and a half just to get them loose.
“So, can I meet all of you properly now?”
“Why?”
“Go along with it, they said they’d consider joining us if we showed them who we are and why we wanted them.”
“Alright. I’m Salami, but call me Sal, I’m a he/they,” said the second person.
“Fine, I’m Sprite,” the first begrudgingly revealed.
“Thank you. Now why do you want me and Isi?”
“We are all demons, well except Sprite, they’re a half demon, half angel. And our Boss heard of your escape, and finds you interesting. He wants us to help you, and in return you give him information. You see, we all want rid of the Guardians- all except the worker sheep that you call angels. You used to be part of them my dear, but you managed to break out of that way of thinking and heaven. That’s rare.”
“Ok. So, because we have insider information, you want me to help you.”
“Yes.”
“And if I don’t agree?”
“You’d be a fool not to, but I would be unable to stop you. But remember we know where you live, and if our leader gives us the order we will kidnap both of you and force you to co-operate.”
“Ok, I’ll work with you, but only because there is currently no other option.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, can I go home, the others will be worried, since I’ve been gone a while.”
“And how do you expect to get home when you were already lost?”
“I’ll find a way.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll take you home, my damsel.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, thank you.”
Half an hour later they arrived home, waving Riley off. Most of the journey was a flirting battle between the two of them, and it only ended when Riley had their number. Somehow they had already managed to memorise it. Before long, they were back inside the flat, being confronted by a worried Vanny and Isi.
“Are you ok?”
“What happened?”
“Why were you gone so long?”
“Just, don’t ask, you don’t want to know. I made some allies though. 2 demons and a half demon half angel.”
“Ok. Wait, was one of them called Sprite?”
“Yes, why?”
“Not brilliant but ok.”
“Why?”
“They work for Satan, and not just in a sense that they are down the command chain form him, they are his personal group of investigators and only really work on secret important stuff. This means Satan not only knows we’re here, but is interested in us. That could be good or bad, but we will have to wait and see. What did they ask you?”
“If I would help them in return for them helping us.”
“Did you accept?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see their faces?”
“Yes.”
“Ok. Good. Now, shall we continue where we left off yesterday?”
“Yes please.”
#Knockin' On Heaven's Door#Original Content#TW swearing#tw unreality#tw kidnapping#I don't know if it's a trigger but when they start flirting it gets way too dirty#tw dirty stuff
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My sweet Magnolia
Chapter sixteen: fifteen minutes of bedtime stories and cop cars.
Reggie and Luke were away for the weekend, leaving Maggie to babysit overnight for the first time. It was currently 11:30pm at night, there was a lightning and thunder storm going on outside.
Maggie opened the door slightly to Corey and Lyra's room, knowing how they were both terrified of thunder and lightning. She rushed in when she saw the two hiding under Corey's bed covers. "Hey you guys okay?" She asked as she climbed under and sat next to them, pulling them both into a hug. "Can you read us a bedtime story sissy?" Corey asked, grabbing onto Maggie when he once again heard the lightning. Maggie nodded her head, "of course."
Maggie walked into the living room and over to the bookshelf, she picked up a kids picture book that her dads and uncle Alex made years ago about their lives and and their love for music. She walked back into the room, unsurprised to see Emmy and AJ were also now under the covers.
She grabbed a flashlight and sat down on Corey's bed, Corey and Emmy sitting on one side, and Lyra and AJ were sitting on the other side. Both Corey and Lyra were holding onto Maggie tightly, while the twins were leaning against Corey and Lyra's shoulders.
When Maggie was done reading to her siblings, she got up and asked "you guys wanna watch Lilo and stitch?". Of course, they all agreed cause they loved the movie. The five kids were huddled together on the couch, all of them jumping whenever they heard a noise from outside, but the reminder that their siblings were there to protect them seemed to help them relax.
When Maggie got up to go into the kitchen to make some popcorn, she looked out of the big kitchen window and immediately her face went pale. Outside she could see three people who were too tall to be her dads and too short to be her uncles, and she knew exactly who they were. These were three obsessive fans of the band that had been pretty much stalking both families for years.
She grabbed the kitchen phone and ran into the living room where her four younger siblings still sat on the couch. "Guys get into Lyra and Corey's room. Now!" She almost yelled but remembered that there was a chance they would hear her.
Her siblings didn't say anything and ran into the two youngest kids room, while Maggie ran around to all of the rooms and turned off all of the lights. She then called 911. "Hello? There's some people trying to break into my house! Please come quick. I'm only fifteen and I'm home alone with my younger brother and three younger sisters!"
As soon as the 911 operator told her the cops were coming, she then called her dads. "Papa you need to come home right now!". "Maggie what's wrong? Are any of you hurt? Are you all okay?". "Yes we're fine for now but you gotta come home those crazy fans are here and they just broke in!". "Stay calm and be quiet, we'll be home soon I promise."
When the scariest call of her life was over, she quietly tiptoed into Corey and Lyra's room, locking the door behind her.
They sat in silence for fifteen minutes, cuddling each other, until the police, their uncles, their grandparents and their dads were outside. "I'm so glad you're all okay" Luke sobbed as he knelt down to hug them all while Reggie was yelling at the fans, before going back to his husband and his kids. He saw that Maggie was shaking and wrapped his arms around her, "it's okay baby, you're safe now. I'm so proud of you for keeping you're brother and sisters safe." He kissed her forehead and pushed her hair back. When Maggie looked into his eyes she realise that he too had been crying.
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*** TAPS MIC *** is this thing on ???
name / alias : shiloh / love , lilo , lo , shi , etc. i wish i was a tvd heretic.
gender / pronouns : demigirl / she/they
where ya from ? : new jork titty
the current time : 9:12pm
height : 5′4
job or major : i just graduated !! i have a degree in web development
pet ( s ) : one dog , one cat. love them both sm. my puppy hasn’t been doing so great health wise , but i think her neck is starting to get better.
favorite thing ( s ) about yourself : myyyyyyyyy fat ASS ! and idk i’m very empathetic
meaning behind url : i just like the word lover and fm seems to be the trend these days sdhfjsdk
last thing you googled : i got curious about how fetuses feel while in the womb so i started googling fetal movement in the second trimester . i don’t have an excuse fhsdjkfjks
birthday / zodiac : valentine’s day / aquarius
in your opinion , does your sign suit you ? : uhhhhhh sometimes. aquarius seems to have the reputation of being heartless or desensitized and i’m like. the most sensitive person in the world lmao
myers - briggs : infp
moral alignment : chaotic stupid
hogwarts house : hufflepuff
three fictional character ( s ) you see yourself in + why : i think i’d rather list the parts of my muse list that resonate with me ..... like for example , i see my loyalty , urge to lead , tendency to isolate in hope mikaelson ; i see my devotion , sensitivity , and mental illness in chloe price ; i see my ‘on the outside’ feeling + loneliness in eleven ; i see my passion for change , anger for racial inequality , and strong desire to feel safe as a black woman in the world in mj ; i see my smartass mouth , dramatic flair , and chaotic tendences in sirius black. just little pieces of me in each of my idiots.
as far as characters i don’t play ..................... jake peralta & nymphadora tonks just about sum me up
i started roleplaying : i was like. thirteen.
types of rps i enjoy : all kinds ! however , i don’t prefer novella groups. i like groups where i can explore family dynamics , as i’m a sucker for those.
fondest roleplay memory : uhhh idk about fondest of like all time but rn i have a 1x1 where they’re having a baby even tho they’re broken up , and they just got back together. emo. soulmate tings. mayhaps i’m obsessed with them , which is weird , since i don’t usually get into set ships. u didn’t hear that from me tho
canon ships you can’t help but love : broooo luke x lorelai of gilmore girls was my first otp and i’ll die obsessed with them. emma swan x killian jones , chloe price x max caulfield , m.j. x peter parker , hope mikaelson x landon kirby .... yes , i’ll die on my stefan salvatore x caroline forbes boat
trope ( s ) you tend to be guilty of : cute bruiser is probably my most used trope HJFKSFDS
i prefer . . .
angst , smut , or fluff : fluff & smut are tired for first
long or short replies : ngl , i like when things start off short. if they gradually or naturally lengthen , that’s totally cool
pre plotting or chemistry : i love both. a lot. but i won’t commit to a ship without chemistry
sentence starters or headcanon memes : sentence starters
single muse or multimuse blogs : i used to be VERY anti mumu blogs ... now i can’t imagine not using them. my god. so much easier.
gif icons , medium gifs , or static icons : gif icons.
grab the book nearest to you and pull a quote from it : my bookshelf is too tightly packed for me to pull anything off casually fshfkshfds
what’s a quote or song lyric that speaks to your soul ? : until the lion tells his side of the story , the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.
last movie you watched : the princess and the frog
did you like it ? : OF COURSE
favorite movie ( s ) of all time : catch me if you can , gone girl , wolf of wall street , and ofc all of the disney movies ever.
favorite tv show ( s ) of all time : stranger things , the originals , gilmore girls , sabrina the teenage witch , living single , etc.
favorite tv show that hasn’t ended : at the moment ? the 100
favorite series of books : harry potter + the lunar chronicles
sports team ( s ) you rep : what is a sport.
favorite video game ( s ) : the last of us + life is strange. animal crossing , the sims , beyond: two souls are up there , too.
favorite youtube channels : bailey sarian , plumbella , cherry wallis , drew gooden , and the take
put your music on shuffle. what six songs pop up ? :
1. no more bad days by this wild life
2. seventeen by marina & the diamonds
3. undrunk by fletcher
4. affluenza by conan gray
5. psycho by mia rodriguez
personal aesthetic : i really don’t know. i feel like i’m all over the place. is organized chaos an aesthetic ? or just a lifestyle .
dream vacation ? : the maldives
dream job ? : i do not dream of labor .
dream car ? : a volkswagen thing
if i could live anywhere , it’d be : manhattan
favorite musical : HADESTOOOOWNNNNNN . anastasia comes in at a second
favorite food ( s ) : rn i’m eating a churro so it’s a churro
coffee order : 2 large cold brews , creme brulee style
unwatched stuff in your netflix / hulu / etc : grey’s anatomy harasses me every fuckin dayyyyy. i started watching hollywood tho
i know wayyyyy tooo much about true crime. i can talk about it until i die.
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Season 1, Episode 1: A Different Place
Where better to begin talking about a show than the beginning? Like most shows, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo has a pilot episode.
...Okay, in this case, “pilot episode” is just a fancy way of saying “first episode”. Much like Rick & Morty and DT17, SDPA doesn’t really have a pilot episode that isn’t just the first episode (unless you count Doc and Mharti as R&M’s pilot, which I’d rather not), so to begin the series, we kinda have to jump right into the mess of things.
It’s like A Quiet Place, but not stupid.
As the episode begins, we are introduced to a two men on a horse-drawn cart. The man in the red box is a book salesman who’s a little down on his luck in terms of profits.
A little.
This guy isn’t really given a name, and I don’t want to call him “The Salesman” the whole time because that’s stupid. So I’m going to give him a name. Mr. Simmons will do nicely.
Anyways, Mr. Simmons falls out of the cart when it hits a patch in the road, and when he picks himself up, he sees a quaint little house on a farm, with an old woman knitting on the porch.
Here, we are introduced to the first of our main cast, Dona Benta, a kind elderly lady who owns this little patch of heaven known as the Yellow Woodpecker Farm. Yeah, didn’t take us long to get there, huh?
So Mr. Simmons sees this old woman in the middle of (what he believes to be) nowhere, and decides it’s the perfect opportunity to make a quick buck believing that:
Which, I dunno, man, she seems pretty comfortable just sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. Like, even as an outsider who doesn’t know a lick of what goes on in this farm, I’d say she’s content as she is, but anything to make some cold hard cash, I guess.
Also, I would not ever call this place a desert, even for the sake of exaggeration. There’s grass everywhere, bushes, trees, flowers, the works. If this where anything like a desert, I do not think this woman would be here, to put it simply. But, I digress. And I hydraulic press, but we won’t be seeing that.
So, Mrs. Benta goes inside to call for the kids, and here we meet 3 of our other actors:
Here, we see Pedrinho (or Little Pete, the boy in the blue overalls) and Narizinho (or Lúcia “Little Nose”, the girl in the red dress), cousins and Mrs. Benta’s grandchildren. They’re playing tag, I think, but they’re stopped in their tracks with their Grandma in the way, and-
Hang on, I feel like we’re forgetting something.
Oh, right. I almost forgot Emilia. She’s basically the reason I watch this show, no biggie.
Anyway, she’s in a race with the kids, when they’re blocked by Grandma. Emilia makes the smart move and cuts right under Mrs. Benta. It looks like this:
Another reason I like this show so much, it’s rife with smears, which I feel like any good cartoon should have. Like here, where Emilia friggin’ nyooms right under Mrs. Benta like a comet.
Emilia reaches the finish line at the bookshelf, where we see the Viscount of Sabugosa, a puppet made out of an ear of corn who’s very smart and polite. (His name is a pun, “sabugo” means corncob in Portuguese, and it’s a parody of the Count of Sabugosa, of which there were 9, the first being Vasco Fernandes César de Meneses in 1729- but everybody calls him Viscount and so will I because blah)
In this show, the Viscount is the actual size of an ear of corn, which makes sense, he is, after all, a puppet made out of one. I think it’s really funny that the cartoon is slightly more realistic than the live-action show it’s based on in this regard, because in the 2001 series, for whatever reason, the Viscount towers over everyone:
And he has a sick mustache.
Like, I don’t get it, out of all the characters, you made the guy made out of corn the tallest one in the cast? I get that the technology to make him actually small probably wasn’t all there yet, Grandpa in My Pocket was still 8 years off, but you really couldn’t find a guy that wasn’t the same height as Shaq?
Yeesh, only 2 minutes in and I’m getting sidetracked this often. Well, I guess it’s better than having nothing to talk about.
Anyway, Emilia wins the race, but the other two kids run into her, smooshing her against the bookshelf-
-and pwning her so hard she briefly grows fingers on her hand (and turning it into a left hand apparently, because the thumb is on the wrong side)
Mrs. Benta explains that Emilia and the other mystical beings must hide from the impending salesman.
Oh brother, I was wondering when we’d get to this guy. This is Marquis of Rabicó (Portuguese for Short-tail). Literally the first thing you read about him on the show’s Wikipedia is that he’s fat (which you think would be a given cuz he’s a pig), and his part of the Characters section isn’t much better, stating that he’s a “gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig” and most of his episodes involve him getting himself and/or others into trouble by being a gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig. He’s only ever onscreen to cause problems, either directly or by proxy. If I were to sum him up in one meme, it would be this:
Now, I don’t hate Rabicó, I’m actually quite indifferent towards him, but he does bring down a lot of the episodes that he’s a major part of. Thankfully, there aren’t too many episodes featuring him in the first 2 seasons, but from what I hear, Season 3 goes ham with that shit (pun intended) and it brings down the quality of the season as a whole, so it’s a good thing that’s as far off from now as it is. I want to enjoy the lack-of-pig while it lasts.
But hey, at least he doesn’t look like this:
Don’t do drugs, kids.
Rant over, Mrs. Benta explains that she wants things to look normal because the Yellow Woodpecker Farm is a very peculiar place, where all kinds of weird and wacky stuff goes on, and if word gets out about it, the place will be filled with tourists wanting to get a peek of the action.
Something that Mrs. Benta probably didn’t consider is that there’s a bigger threat to being exposed than just filthy tourism. That’s right, I’m talking about the GOVERNMENT.
I mean, think about it. How many movies have you seen where the government tries to hunt down an unnatural being? E.T., the Sonic Movie, a third one I can’t think of right now, etc. (Lilo & Stitch does not count) Now, I can’t speak for Brazil’s government compared to the U.S., but I know there’s gotta be a division dedicated to dealing with unnatural things that would no doubt arrest Emilia, Rabicó, Viscount, etc. and run experiments on them. Then again, maybe this cartoon takes place in a world where the government doesn’t even exist. I mean, we never really see any urban settings in the show (aside from a brief mention of “the city” in the finale), so for all I know, the world of Sítio do Picapau Amarelo is run by Vermin Supreme.
Real talk, you should all be ashamed of yourselves for not voting for this guy back in 2016.
Initially, Emilia won’t go into her box, but then she gives in and is dragged there by Aunt Nastácia, the housemaid of the farm with a knack for making dolls (so she’s essentially Emilia’s mom). She doesn’t really do much in this episode, but the Fat Bastard does even less, and I still mentioned him.
So Mrs. Benta lets Mr. Simmons into the house and he does this whole spiel about how great the books are, how they can take you to worlds you never imagined, fantasy and action, yadda yadda.
Meanwhile, the kids are off to the side and they’re all like “Well, we met the actual Hercules, get on our level scrub”. And of course, Emilia is watching with them, instead of in her box.
As Simmons keeps on rambling, Emilia is being a little peeping tom, not realizing that one turned head could lead to her being dissected like a high school frog.
Apparently, Emilia thinks she’s a regular Bart Simpson, with shit like spitballs and pulling out the man’s leg hairs. She’s really pushing her luck here, and for little reason. Sure, Simmons called the place boring, but that’s how it’s supposed to be to him.
Of course, Pedrinho and Narizinho are nice enough kids that they bail her out on this one and pretend it was them.
And before Simmons can ask what the hell is going on, Mrs. Benta gives him the money for the books and sends him out the door. And once he’s out...
I’ll give you a hint: it rhymes with go.
Of course, they’re not out of the woods yet, cuz Simmons is getting a little suspicious.
Busted. The truth is revealed, all laid out for Simmons to see. A talking rag-doll? Inconceivable! And yet, there it is.
Come on, Viscount. I would expect you of all people to uphold what Mrs. Benta said and stay hidden. You’re smart enough, you should already know what’s at stake, or at least that something is at stake. I mean, I understand that the cat is already out of the bag, but you’re not helping.
Also, you’re thumb is clipping into your bowtie, you should get that checked out.
Rabicó, I hope you get turned into salami. Not out of spite or anything, but just because I like salami.
Naturally, Simmons believes he’s struck gold and found the ultimate tourist trap. But when Emilia points out that if he tells anyone, he’ll sound like a crazy person-
-he straight up Villager Neutral B’s her,
hails a horse, and books it.
Wow, Viscount. Dick move mangling Mrs. Benta’s glasses like that. And all for an impromptu magnifying glass, which is pointless-
-because we can see the horse tracks perfectly fine without them.
(The Viscount isn’t this much of a jerk in the rest of the series, I swear.)
So, the gang follow the tracks until there are no more, which leads them to a corn store.
Wait, a... corn store? As in, a store that mainly, if not exclusively, sells maize and maize accessories? Compared to vegetables in general, that’s quite a niche market, I can’t possibly imagine finding a success in building an entire business around one type of vegetable. Corn is simply not as versatile as something like chocolate or cheese.
Oh no, wait, it’s just a bar. I guess this cartoon takes place in the middle of Prohibition 2: Return of Jafar, and the whole “corn store” thing is just a set up for a speakeasy. (I mean, you could also argue that it’s a diner, but I’mma go with bar because it’s funnier.)
And I’m guessing Simmons expects the place to put all of the meals on his tab, considering he’s going to get the money later with all the tourism. But then, why doesn’t he just pay with the money he got from selling Mrs. Benta those books?
So he pulls Emilia out of his bag to show everyone that he has a talking doll and...
Hm. Probably should have put some air holes in that bag.
Anyway, the gang comes in, and Mrs. Benta asks for the doll back, with Narizinho hamming up her Oscar-worthy performance:
So everybody’s giving Mr. Simmons a mean glare:
Including this gentleman who looks like someone just insulted his favorite MHA character (it’s probably Tsuyu):
So Mr. Simmons desperately tries to convince everyone that the doll indeed does talk, and that she comes from a wacky place, but Aunt Nastácia intervenes and says that it’s just a normal doll.
She just straight up roasts Emilia, who (big surprise) does not take it very well. To the point that she is very visibly angry, which you think the barflies would notice.
I mean, look at that and tell me that you wouldn’t notice anything weird.
But anyways, they get the doll back and we get this cute group hug.
D’awww.
So they leave with Emilia-
as Mr. Simmons is beaten to death offscreen for stealing from a little girl.
As the gang walks home, Viscount bends Ms. Benta’s glasses back to normal. Took you long enough, ya jerk.
Not even close, my dear. This is only the beginning.
Well, that was a very good first episode. It introduces the world and many of the main characters very well. And while there were a few issues I had with it, they’re really just nitpicks that don’t detract from the episode as a whole. Overall, a good effort, 8/10.
So, yeah, that’s the first episode down. Join me next time when we watch episode 2, and meet a very vile villain.
Very vile indeed.
#sitio#sitio do picapau amarelo#Sítio do Picapau Amarelo#sdpa#should i tag it as liveblog? probably not.#animation#cartoon#cute#funny#ragdoll#Brazil#globo#hardy har har#i'm just filling this with random tags so people will see this.#lol#yellow woodpecker farm#yellow woodpecker ranch#mr. simmons may never come back so me naming him was probably pointless lol#emilia#Emília#Pedrinho#Narizinho#Ms. Benta#Viscount#Rabico#Nastacia
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