#what if you keep reblogging drawing guides and KNOW they can SEE them?
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Welcome to the BG3 Plot Bunny Rehoming Centre!
Got a plot idea that you don't have time to write? Looking for new ideas for fics and one shots?
You've come to the right place!
How It Works
I Have a Plot Bunny
Use the ask box to submit your plot bunny ideas - anonymously if you prefer! - and they will be added to the blog!
I Want to Adopt a Plot Bunny
Choose any plot bunnies that appeal to you from the blog and comment on them to let people know you're working on them, then once your fic is written reblog the original post with your fic or the link to it!
Is that it?
It really is that simple! If you have ideas you don't have the time to write you can send them here to find a home, or if you're looking for a new and fun idea to work on this can be a fun place to find which one calls to you!
More Details Below! Rules, Submission Guidelines, and Submission Format
Submission Guidelines and Rules
What is Not Allowed Here?
I draw the line at NSFW content containing minors or characters who only appear in the source material as minors.
Pairings must also pass the Harkness Test - creatures must be able to communicate in a way all participants can understand clear consent, they must have enough intelligence and sentience to understand clear consent, and they must be at or over the minimum age of consent for their species.
No sexual pairings are to contain characters who are blood related, with the exception of Sorn/Nym Orlith who may be in a situation with multiple other partners but as they state in game they will not interact with each other, nor will they be with only one other partner.
All Participants must be 18+ - Minors DNI with this blog! The game is rated 18+ and so is a lot of the fan content, please respect this and wait until you are old enough to safely interact with 18+ fandom creativity (for your own safety and that of the creators)
Controversial Content, Tagging, and CWs
Controversial characters, Dead Dove topics, and triggering content is permitted here on the understanding that you will appropriately tag all submissions and fics with the CWs and Tags that apply to it, so readers and writers have the choice of what they engage with.
You can find a comprehensive guide to tagging and CWs here along with a list of topics that require a tag!
As long as you have clearly marked your content, it's fine to post. Stories have all kinds of themes to them and have done since we first sat around the fires talking to each other about dreams and ideas - so let's keep it positive here too! If you don't like an idea or story, just let it pass by and move on to something you do like instead. We are all so much better when we support one another~
How Should I Submit My Plot Bunny?
You should try to give as much detail as you're able to, but we can try and help out a bit too! Try to have as many of these points as you can:
Character Names
Basic idea (a couple of sentences)
SFW or NSFW?
Are there any tropes/kinks you do want to see included?
Are there any tropes/kinks you do NOT want to see included?
Is this a one shot idea or a long fic?
Should the idea be treated seriously or like a comedy?
Do you have an idea of an outline for the story (eg, beginning, middle, and end)
Would you like the Rehoming Centre to expand on your idea? (eg, you have a rare pairing idea but can't work out how to put them together)
Do you have any other inspirations for the plot bunny to go with it in the rehoming package? (eg, a song, a piece of art, a game screenshot)
How Should I Adopt A Plot Bunny?
If you'd like to adopt a plot bunny and write something with it, scroll, search, or pick whichever bunny appeals to you! If possible, drop a comment on the post so we know you're working on it, then those looking to claim a bunny that has no home yet can look further for more. You can claim a bunny that already has a claim if you'd like to, of course! Bunnies need lots of love.
Once you've written your fic, reblog the plot bunny post so the blog, readers, and the person who submitted the post can find your work! We want to see our lovely plot bunnies hopping happily in their new homes after all~
Is that it?
I think so! If you have any questions, pop them in the comments to this post or in the ask box. I look forward to seeing all your plot bunnies and finding them some good homes soon!
#baldurs gate 3#fanfic prompts#writing ideas#plot bunnies#bg3 fanfic prompt#bg3 fanfic idea#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#baldurs gate fanfiction#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 smut
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My hot take is that people should be allowed to be bad at things.
Now, I can hear you saying "but OP, that's not a hot take! Of course we will have to let people be bad at things, that's the only way they'll ever learn and get better!"
That is not what I'm talking about. I'm not talking about being bad at something as a stepping stone. I'm not talking about it as the necessary evil on the road to the goal of being good at things. I'm talking about sucking for eternity, and how it still has value.
I love singing. I will never be even passably okay at it. I can't keep my voice even, I can't stay in tune even if I know the song perfectly in my head, I'm grating to listen to. I will not get better at it. I will keep belting it out at anime convention karaoke. You will not see me cringing at others who can't for the life of them follow the lyrics. Not because "if we keep doing it we'll slowly start sounding better". But because singing is fun, and that's the important thing.
Hobbies are meant to be fun for the person doing it, and that's all that matters. They don't have to improve. Nobody owes you improvement. Yes it's important to support beginner creatives, because everyone starts off sucking, and with support they can improve and you will get more good artists.
But that's not where it ends. You can't only support someone with the promise of improvement. You will also have to accept the people who have been doing the thing you take pride in and sink endless hours into for years, for decades, who still kind of suck, and who don't seem to be working towards learning more. They don't have to. Stop being conditional with your support. People are allowed to be bad at things, period.
#venlapost#of course if it's A JOB you can expect a level of proficiency#if you've been hired to do a task you should be able to do the task#but I'm talking about hobbies#and how i HATE it that every time someone mentions someone being bad at something#the only response is assuming they're a beginner and will get better#what if they don't? is it okay then? what if they're not even TRYING?#what if you keep reblogging drawing guides and KNOW they can SEE them?#what then? are you asking them to Learn Now Or Stop?#we are not friends of you do.#people you don't employ don't owe you quality or improvement. period.
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Rough
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, 18+
Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise
Length: ~2k
Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
The lights of the TV illuminate you and your boyfriend’s intertwined forms resting on the sofa. Seungcheol’s hands busy themselves, fingers digging into the sore cords of muscle twisted along your legs. He thinks nothing of it, focused on the drama unfolding on screen while you focus on the cool metal of his watch licking just above your knee.
He smiles when you jump, the tickle of his fingers sending bubbling laughter into the space between you.
“What?” He asks, as if he doesn't have all your weak spots committed to memory.
“Nothing.” you mumble.
“Want me to stop?”
A shake of your head is the only reply Seungcheol needs before he pins your flailing limbs and goes about his business once again.
His hands always feel incredible. They’re always warm, always gentle despite what lurks beneath the surface. And they’re always on you, in some way or another.
The roughness of his palm or dig of his fingers are second nature after years of them glued to your body. Whether they’re holding you close or stroking across your cheek as he wakes you with sweet kisses. Heating the small of your back while he guides you in a crowd, or tangled with your own as he whispers his deepest secrets into the dark late at night. You love every part of him but his hands show you a million different ways he feels the same.
You try not to react as he massages up your thighs, the sinew of muscles seizing before they melt under his careful ministrations.
Every sigh through your nose is a tell Seungcheol is well accustomed to; what you like and what you love. Because he knows you like when he focuses on the curve of your quad, or the meat of your calves until they’re putty.
But you love when he pushes his hand under your oversized shirt and stretches the muscles deeper inside until you vibrate with want.
“You’re not watching the movie.” He whispers into your ear, nose following the curve of your jaw to the place he knows drives you wild.
“I'm a little distracted right now.”
And just like that the thick fingers stuffed in your cunt freeze before retreating. You can’t close your thighs to stop it due to the hand pinning your leg down to his lap with bruising force. But he can’t prevent your free leg from kicking in protest as you beg him to stay.
Seungcheol pinches the inside of your thigh until it stings, “Stop.”
You know that tone. It’s the one that warns you if you keep going, you won’t get what you want; what you need. Seungcheol isn’t a stingy lover but he likes to play and this is his newest game. If you can play along long enough he’ll make it worth your while.
“Eyes on the TV.”
With a harsh swallow you turn back to the screen. Once your boyfriend is sure you won’t look away, his hand returns, three fingers stretching you at a snail's pace. When he’s worked them all in, no longer cautious of your initial discomfort, he stops; focused on curling up against that spot he’s always found with embarrassing ease; pressing until your legs shake and you actually do start dripping into his lap. If it wasn’t for the fabric of your shirt, he could see everything.
The hand on your thigh joins in, the pad of his finger drawing rough circles of your clit. It’s fast and it's dirty but you keep pretending to watch the TV while Suengcheol does as he wants. Your mind is so numb you don’t even realize he’s pushed away the blanket and ruched your shirt up your hips to leave you bare. Not until you hear him spit and feel it land on your exposed clit framed between his fingers.
“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the upholstery. “Please.”
But he’s not done yet. A swift slap to your pussy sends stars in your eyes and your body ten feet in the air if not for the man forcing you in place.
“Just relax, baby.”
You try. And Seungcheol respects your effort because every muscle he worked into submission over the past ten minutes jumps alive under your skin but you sit still in his lap and take what he gives you like he knows you can.
He kisses your cheek before whispering, “I love you.”
Each word burns into your skin, licks through your blood. He loves you, and you love him and all he wants to do is take care of you. So you try and let him even if it means madness.
Seungcheol watches you pretend to watch the movie once again, but your mind focuses on the sound of debauchery echoing between your thighs. If you looked down you know what you’d see. The way your pussy clings to his fingers with every stroke out, how they glisten with your arousal, every squeeze; everything.
All the teasing is enough to make your eyes gloss. Especially when he adds a fourth finger and tells you how perfect you are, how you were made for him, and if you cum right now he’ll give you his cock but you have to earn it.
You want to feel his lips suck around your clit until you're nothing more than an empty shell but you’ll happily settle for the swipes of his fingers. It’s obscene how wet you are and how loud your ruined cunt is over the blasting speakers.
“C’mon pretty girl,” he coos into your ear. “Come for me.”
The coil winds and winds until it snaps. All the edges ripple, the world blurs. Every breath hurts from the punch in your stomach forcing bolts of electricity through your nerves.
And Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re crying. Only to kiss away each tear with praise and soft lips. You barely crack your eyes open, watching his fingers disappear between his lips, sucking away the mess before he gives you a taste on his mouth.
Eyes shut and boneless in his arms, you let him push and pull you just the way he wants. Your body’s only protest in the exhaustion Seungcheol’s fucked into you with his hands. But it’s not enough to keep you from taking him again.
It never is.
When the jostling stops, you find him kneeling before you. He hasn't bothered to remove his clothes, or yours. Just forces your shirt over your breasts and his pants down until he's bare. Thick thighs frame an equally thick cock you know like the back of your hand.
If your boyfriend thinks you’re beautiful then he is other worldly in the glow of the LED screen.
Hands anchored on the back of your knees, you spread out for his eyes only. Seungcheol’s mouth waters at your wrecked pussy, soaked and swollen from his attention, begging to be split on his cock. The drooling tip of his length taps against your clit, sending you deeper into the spiral, each nudge making your muscles twitch until he uses his thumb to catch on your opening and force himself through the mind numbing clench.
Seungcheol goes slow, pressing forward only a millimeter at a time, barely giving you a taste before he pulls back and starts again. If the way you’re positioned didn’t prevent you from rushing him forward than the fist around his cock would as he teases you until you're begging and he’s puffing up with pride at how desperate you are.
Just when you think he’s ready to give in, almost flat against one another, he pulls out.
“I sweat to fucking god if you don’t fu—ckkkkkkk,”
Sheathed to the base in your heat Seungcheol finds paradise, dick twitching with every breath. The rough skin of his palms circle your ankles, spreading them up and out of the way so he can lean forward and give you what you want; your pussy stretched to the brim on his cock while he fucks every last thought out of your head.
“Move.” You mewl, barely human, shaking under his weight.
Settling your legs over his shoulders, he folds you in half, freeing the hands you love so much to do as he pleases. One lands just above your head to keep him from completely crushing you and the other cradles your jaw, thumb brushing across your lower lip before he meets you with a kiss.
His tongue glides against your own, fucking your mouth as his hips curl in time. Every thrust forward forces the air in your lungs up your throat to be swallowed by your boyfriend. He strokes you to life, pinned in place, helpless, glowing.
Seungcheol groans as he fucks you harder. “Fuck, you take it so well.”
You're shaking, vibrating from the synapses firing through every inch of your being. Chin dipped, you watch him wreck you, creaming around the base of his length like he’s fucked you for hours rather than minutes.
You’ll come like this, without any pressure on your clit; just the delicious drag of his thick cock in your walls, crushed under his weight and entirely at his mercy. Helpless Seungcheol latches his hand you yours, intertwines your fingers, and cants against like he’s possessed.
Eyes rolled as you go limp, you reach for his face and whimper into his mouth, climbing higher and higher until you hit the ceiling. Your hands are everywhere, anywhere in reach as you fail to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure rolling through your veins. And it all shatters with a whimper of his name.
He’s perfect and he’s yours and you don’t know what you did to earn him but you know you could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him.
You try to break through the noise. But it just serves to make things worse because the only thing the man on top you likes to see more than you desperate for him is you coming on his cock. The arm above your head collapses, sending all of his weight on you, forcing him deeper into your guts until you can taste him on the back of your tongue. The wet clap of his balls against your ass with each rut forward rockets you into the deep end.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Seungcheol bites into your jaw. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so good. So good.”
It’s blinding, eyes cinched so tight fireworks float in the darkness; Seungcheol’s moans blending with the rush of blood fleeing your brain. He’s feral with the satisfaction of your orgasm, how you wail beneath him like your neighbors won’t hear and know you have a man who pleases you in every way imaginable. Like you want everyone to know his name.
“Cheol,” you whisper, all breath. So quiet he wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t dialed into your every move. “Want…” you pant. “Want you…”
Seungcheol presses as deep as he can before letting go; stuffing you with his cum, grinding into your pussy with every jerk of his cock until it spills around where he splits you and slips down your ass.
His eyes never leave yours, watching you take every drop of his affection like you were made to. Like he was the one made to give it to you. Even with your thrashing, you never look away.
A final pathetic noise scratches the inside of your throat when he’s done. Seungcheol won’t pull out but he will pull away, yearning to see the mess between your bodies. Cum and arousal smears your bellies, your thighs, the base of his cock still inside you. Eventually he'll pull you up to wash off and you have no doubt the cushion will be beyond repair.
When he’s had his fill, he collapses into your chest, arms twine around your back as he kisses you with every ounce of devotion he can spare. Until you can feel his love down to the tips of your toes and through every last cell in your body.
And because showing you isn’t enough, he tells you again and again while he fills you once more in the comfort of your shared bed.
-
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
#ksmutsociety#kvanity#svthub#choi seungcheol#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#seventeen smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt smut#🫡 highvern
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Hello dear! How are you? I hope you are doing great💕
I'd like to request an oneshot with William J. Moriarty, where he has just returned from a mission with minor injuries on his back and his wife (preferably feminine, but if you're uncomfortable gender neutral is fine!) takes care of him. There she sees the scars from when his foster mother would punish him so she caresses and kisses his back😌.
With prompt 7
I really hope this is not confusing and thank you very much in advance. 😘😘
KNOW WHEN IT’S ENOUGH
Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
__________________________________________________________________________
Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot
Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader
Prompt: “Enough is enough, and your best is good enough.” (Dialogue Prompt #7)
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader
Notes: I’m weak for people calling their significant other “love.”
Vague references to the Hounds of the Baskervilles chapter(s) of the manga!
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It’s late when William gets home.
You wake to the sound of the bedroom door opening and see him in the light of the dying fireplace. Your husband is haggard, covered in dirt, and looks like he’s two seconds away from passing out.
You’re out of bed in an instant, gently working his long black coat from his shoulders and guiding him toward the shared bathroom in your chambers.
“I’m fine, love. Really, it’s merely a few scratches.” He says, and you hush him as you turn on the oil lamps and flit about the bathroom like a busy bee. You gather bandages and ointment from under the sink and draw a bath. Setting your supplies on the counter, you turn to face your husband.
William is leaning tiredly against the doorframe, watching with something akin to amusement at your fretting.
“I promise you, I’m alright.” He says, and you shake your head, approaching him and dusting some dirt off of his cheek.
“I want to make sure, William. Please?” You whisper, and he sighs, cupping your hand and keeping it there. He leans into your touch and offers a small smile.
“When can I ever say no to you?” He whispers, and you grin brightly.
You turn away to give William some privacy as he sheds the rest of his clothes. You’ve already seen all of him. As he’s seen all of you. But it still seemed appropriate.
The splash of water alerts you, and you turn to see William sinking into the bath, eyes closed and looking utterly at peace. You fold his clothes and set them aside as he starts to relax. His arms hand out of the tub, and as you drag a stool to sit behind him, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even move as you lather some soap in your hands and scrub it deep into his hair, getting all the dirt and smoke out from the golden strands.
Once done scrubbing his hair, you take a cup that was beside the tub and fill it with water to gently rinse the grime from your husband’s hair.
“What was the mission about this time?” You ask softly, and his eyelashes flutter but don’t open, as if you had woken him from sleep.
“Some nobles had been kidnapping children and hunting them for sport. Fred was worried, so we went and took them down. The children were rescued.” He says simply, and you hum.
“What about the nobles?” You can’t help but ask, and he finally tilts his head back and opens his eyes to look at you.
They’re tired and dark.
As if he had done something terrible.
He likely had.
You weren’t a fool. You weren’t necessarily privy to William’s methods, but you were well aware of the lengths he would go to achieve his goals.
“They got what they deserved.” Is all he says, and closes his eyes again as you comb the wet hair from his eyes. You nod once,
“I’m glad.” You reply. The two of you sit in silence as you gently wash the dirt from William’s shoulders.
Then you noticed the faint red color coming from his back, leaking into the water and turning it pink. With a frown, you gently push William forward from where he was relaxing to get a good look at his back. He moved without a fight.
William wasn’t necessarily well-built or massive like Moran. He was lithe and lean, built almost like a dancer rather than a fighter.
He was also covered in scars. Old and new. Some were from past missions. Others were not.
Though William wasn’t one to talk about his past, you had gathered enough in passing conversation to know that Albert’s family wasn’t the kindest to him and Louis. You knew the both of them were adopted from an orphanage as a charity case rather than out of the goodness of the Moriarty family’s hearts. You knew their birth son, whose name your husband had taken, was especially cruel to the boys. And you knew that the mother was quick to physical violence.
But to this extent?
You traced what looked like an old scar of a belt buckle, and it was then that William realized just what was going on. He sat up quickly, turning to say something but stopped when he saw the look on your face.
It was then that you realized you were crying.
Tears streaked your cheeks, and you wiped them with soapy fingers, careful not to get the suds in your eyes. Droplets of water dotted your nightgown, but you paid them no mind. He turned so he was facing you in the tub and reached with a wet hand to cup your cheek.
“Why do you cry, my love?” He asked, and you gave a rather sad, watery sort of smile.
“Because you’re always doing so much with no regard for yourself. You took all that witch’s punishments without complaint, without so much as a word against her.” You whispered, and his eyes turned so unimaginably sad.
“I have to. I have to try my best to help others.” He replied, and you shook your head, leaning to press a kiss to his shoulder.
“Enough is enough, and your best is good enough. You can’t work yourself to death. I won’t stand for it.” You say, and he doesn’t say anything else.
So, once he’s clean, you fetch his robe, a towel, and a fresh change of night clothes. You wait until he’s clothed from the waist down before dressing the injuries on his back. They’re minor in severity and won’t need stitches, but you clean and bandage them nonetheless.
All the while, William doesn’t say a word.
Until you’re nearly finished, that is.
As you’re wrapping the last of the gauze around the worst of the largest injury, he speaks.
“Thank you.” He says quietly, and you smile, although he can’t see it. You lean and press a gentle kiss to his back, right over his heart.
“It’s not a problem. I love you.” You reply, and he hums.
“I love you too.”
#william james moriarty x reader#moriarty the patriot william#william james moriarty#mtp william#ynm william#mtp william x reader#ynm william x reader#william moriarty x reader#moriarty x reader#moriarty the patriot#yuukoku no moriarty
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A secret to hold, a secret to share –Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 6/?)
Chapter six, here we go! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?
Warnings: 18+, full on smut (finally), oral, piv, some tension
Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2.7k words)
Profiling 101 Series Masterlist
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Seven
“Have you all read the email I sent you Friday evening?” Aaron Hotchner’s voice echoed through the room, eyes searching the crowd of students, actively avoiding (y/n)’s gaze. A sigh threatened to leave her, wondering if he’d ever go back to treating her like he had done the morning they had spent in his bed before the situation had escalated into whatever it was now.
Since most of them shook their heads, not daring to look at the frowning professor, he let go of a deep exhale, clearing his throat to start speaking once again, “Next week we will start with our presentations, you can choose any case, active or historic. The case will also be the topic of the paper you’ll have to hand in at the end of the semester, so choose something you’ll find enough literature and information on. I don’t think I need to tell you that you need to focus on profiling and how the cases should be worked with.”
(Y/n) couldn’t stop the wave of excitement from flushing through her, no matter how awkward things were between her and Aaron, she wouldn’t allow their back and forth to stop herself from being excited about researching and presenting something she loved to focus on. Giddiness shook through her system as she scribbled down notes, barely listening to him reminding his students that they needed to email him their topic and their preferred date for their presentation.
Aaron was once again cut short by the fleeting time, ending the class with a loud “I’ll see you next week” leaving him. The second the words left him though, his eyes snapped towards (y/n), finally, tilting his head towards the door to wordlessly ask her to meet him outside. It felt like a déjà-vu, reminding her of the awful conversation they had shared the last time she had been in his office.
Nervousness guided her every step as she met him outside the room, following him through the crowd of students to find their way to his office. Nothing had changed since the last time she had been in the room, plopping down on the black couch that felt all too comfortable.
“I need to apologise for the way I spoke to you at the BAU, (y/n). I have to admit it took me a while to see through this mess, but the team is quite fond of you, they know how to guide me whenever needed.” A surprised huff left (y/n), barely audible, yet loud enough to draw a low chuckle from Aaron. “It’s not my intention to play any games, as you called it. But being around you confuses me, I meant it when I told you that I can’t understand what you’re making me feel. It’s wrong of me to have these desires, you’re my student, and you’ll probably join the BAU fairly soon, adding another line I shouldn’t, can’t cross.”
“So, where does that leave us?” (Y/n) whispered her words, eyes snapping down to her hand as Aaron’s big one found hers, fingers slowly interlacing themselves with hers. Silence engulfed the two, slowing their racing heartbeats, and relaxing into the couch they were sitting on.
“The rational decision would be to leave whatever there may be between us in the past.” With a hum leaving her, (y/n) squeezed Aaron’s hand, hoping that the touch may encourage him to keep on speaking, to mention another way out of the mess they were tangled in. But he kept quiet, momentarily allowing her mind to wander, focusing on the thoughts she had pushed away for the past hours.
Ever since she had received the text, (y/n) had been wrecking her head, trying to figure out who could be the one that had messaged her. She hadn’t told anybody about it yet, not wanting to take away the team’s attention from more important tasks. But even though (y/n) tried to distract herself, she couldn’t shake the anxiety sticking to her. An anxiety only Aaron could eventually free her from, she was sure of it.
“I don’t want to leave this behind, Aaron.” His free hand found her cheek, watching her move closer with a soft smile growing on his lips. The sight had something almost unfamiliar to it, a sight she hoped she’d never forget. “But I guess we can opt to meet in the middle. I won’t be your student much longer, and then I’ll not be your student or your team member, at least for a few months. Enough time to figure out where we want this to go without any rules or laws holding us back.”
“This isn’t fair on you, (y/n).” The soft smile on Aaron’s lips fell as he spoke his words, tongue darting out to wet his lips, thumbs stroking her knuckles. Only the humourless laugh leaving (y/n) managed to force his eyes to snap back up to meet hers.
“I think it’s on me to decide what’s fair and what isn’t. Don’t take that choice from me, please Aaron.”
……
(Y/n) couldn’t stop her laugh from rumbling through her as she watched the chaos unfold in front of her, wide eyes focused on Spencer and Derek. The scent of freshly made pasta filled her with warmth, hand wrapped around her glass, feet placed in Penelope’s lap. She hadn’t been able to shake off her excitement as Dave had invited her for his pasta night, grateful for the somewhat fatherly love the man shared with her.
“When did you start working for the BAU?” (Y/n)’s question forced Penelope’s eyes away from Derek, watching him lift Spencer off the ground as if the man had no weight to him. It took her a few moments to reply, mind racing, unable to think through the tipsy fog she was trapped in.
“Years by now, but I’m so grateful about working there, it’s the family I always looked for.” The smile widening on Penelope’s lips had an addicting effect to it, making (y/n)’s smile grow even wider. Deep down they wouldn’t see through the walls she had pulled up, needing to ask questions they’d instantly get suspicious of when they were sober enough.
“And did you build all the software and stuff yourself, or does anybody share these with you?” Ever since she had received that text (y/n) had tried to figure out who had sent it to her. But even though she knew that it hadn’t been one of the team members, she couldn’t help but wonder if any other agent was behind all of this.
“Of course I did.” A tipsy laugh left Penelope, fully turning her body towards (y/n). The blonde woman studied her friend for a few moments, leaving (y/n) panicking, wondering if Penelope saw through the questions all too easily. “It’s my baby, of course, I don’t share it with anybody.” Another laugh left her, a laugh (y/n) tried to mimic, drowning yet another sip to let go of her uneasiness.
Whoever had sent her the text must have managed to hack into the system without Penelope realising it, and follow (y/n) around without her knowing about it. The thought of having a pair of unfamiliar eyes on her left her shuddering, needing to bite down the need to cry about this.
“I’m about to head home, do you want me to drive you back?” A big hand was placed on (y/n)’s shoulder, eyes drawn from Penelope’s glistening ones to Aaron’s coffee-coloured ones. She shot him a soft nod, rising to her feet before she pulled Penelope in for another hug to say goodbye. Aaron studied her every move, watching (y/n) hug the others before she followed him out of the mansion, cuddling into her jacket to shield her body from the cold evening.
Ever since their talk in his office, the two had tried to adjust to their new situationship, if one could call it that. While they had settled on the fact that they couldn’t put a label on their relationship till she’d graduated, neither of them was ready to let go of the other, forced to give in to the confusing pulls they felt.
With one hand placed on (y/n)’s knee, Aaron began to drive them back to her apartment, enjoying the comfortable silence wrapping itself around the two. Even though her thoughts were still racing, trying to figure out who was toying with her, she couldn’t help but feel giddy next to Aaron, grateful that they could finally be honest with their emotions, their longings, and perhaps even their desires.
“Do you want to come in for a few?” Her soft voice filled his car, watching Aaron ponder over the question before he murmured a soft “Of course”, following (y/n) into her apartment. The second they crossed the threshold, the door fell shut with a soft thud, his lips were on hers, pressing (y/n) against the door. With her hands in his dark hair, she kept him close, struggling to keep breathing as her adrenaline thumped through her veins.
No words were needed to be spoken as she parted from him, heavily breathing. She took his hand, and led him to her bedroom, squealing as Aaron pushed her down on the mattress. His laughs made her heart skip beats, silently thanking her lucky stars for allowing her to feel whatever she was currently guided by.
Their lips met once again as his hands tugged her dress down her frame, settling between her thighs with his knees pressing into the mattress. Both tried to drown out their thoughts, fully focusing on one another and the feeling of their bodies searching for their closeness. Within moments (y/n) found herself wearing nothing but her underwear, dilated pupils watching Aaron undress, exposing his scars to her, scars she reached for with trembling fingers, softly tracing them.
With a loving smile widening on his lips, Aaron tilted her chin up, eyes finding hers as he kissed her, pushing (y/n) back down with his hands working on her bra, lips instantly finding their way to her hardening buds. Her moans echoed through her bedroom, urging Aaron to use more pressure, hands fisting his dark roots to hold on before she’d slip away into the new dimension he was about to push her into.
“I have pictured this moment so many times, and yet it had never felt this good.” His confession drew another moan from her swollen lips, hands letting go of his hair to pull him even closer, legs finding their way around his waist. She could feel his hardening cock, begging to sink into her, to feel her walls flutter around him as Aaron fucked her hard, forcing her to forget her name with the intense waves of pleasure swapping through her.
“Me too, fuck, so many times.” Aaron shot her a smirk as he kissed his way down to her panties, eyes wordlessly asking for permission before he pulled them down her legs, groaning at the sight of her dripping heat. No further word left the tall man, head buried between her thighs to let his tongue explore her dripping heat.
(Y/n)’s moans reverberated through the room, growing louder, and stronger with every flick of Aaron’s tongue. His name rolled off her tongue as he buried two fingers in her cunt, forcing her walls to adjust to the unfamiliar touch, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d touch her like this. She tried to watch him, tried to keep her gaze focused on the excitement burning in his pupils, but the second his fingers found her swollen spot, her head rolled back, giving room to yet another moan.
“You taste so sweet, baby, my perfect girl.” His praises shot shudders down her spine, making her heart skip beats with her lungs aching to cling to some much-needed air. Within a few seconds, Aaron managed to push her closer to the edge, watching pleasure tug on (y/n)’s features with a satisfied grin glued to his lips. “Let go for me I’ve got you.”
She came on his tongue with his name leaving her again and again, riding out her orgasm. Her pants filled the room, slightly groaning as Aaron let go of her, rising to his feet to get rid of his clothes, eyes not breaking contact once. “Are you sure that you want this?”
“God, Aaron, if you don’t fuck me soon I’ll throw a tantrum, I’ll promise you that much.” His chuckles bubbled out of him as he watched (y/n) reach for a condom, stretching it out for him to take. For a few seconds, they were engulfed by silence, allowing the two to momentarily relax as he positioned himself, fingers interlacing themselves with hers before he pushed into her.
Both moaned in unison, eyes fluttering close to relish in the shared closeness, wanting to soak up every passing second. Aaron took his time with his thrusts, not wanting to rush anything, needing to feel her flutter around him, wordlessly telling him how much she enjoyed this.
“More, please.” Her whispers left Aaron smiling, adding more speed to his thrusts, staring down at her with adoration swimming in his pupils. Both were taken up by their emotions, the need to feel their highs flushing through them, the insatiable need for one another neither of them could shake.
She sneaked one hand between their connected bodies, circling her pulsing bundle to give her the last needed push, calling out his name as her orgasm flushed through her. He followed (y/n) down the edge a few moments later, groaning into the crook of her neck. Neither of them dared to move, staying connected, limbs and hearts, souls intertwined by the love thumping through their veins.
“How about a shower?” Aaron murmured the words against (y/n)’s lips, pressing a kiss to them before he let go of her, rising from the mattress to get rid of the condom. She could only nod, kissing him once again, allowing Aaron to pull her to her feet. Slowly she guided him towards her bathroom, freezing in their step as the sound of her doorbell ringing echoed through the apartment.
“I’ll take care of it, you can start the shower.” She watched him leave her side, momentarily disappearing to put on some clothes, but (y/n) didn’t move, body taken up by a weird sensation. Her heart stared racing, mind catching up with the secret she had tried to keep from him, eyes growing wide as Aaron opened the door, eyes wandering down the hallway before they focused on a small wooden box placed in front of her door. “Did you order something?”
“No.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him frowning, eyebrows furrowed as he reached the box out for her to take. Her fingers started shaking, teeth forced into her lower lip. Without needing to open it, she could tell that it was yet another warning, struggling to undo the tight bow that had been wrapped around it. Her heart started pounding as she slowly placed the box down, taking off the lid with a shaky exhale leaving her.
“I should have known you enjoy playing games, (y/n). Let this be my last warning, I always win.”
Aaron read the words out loud, eyes finding her glassy ones as he reached for the picture that had been attached to the text. Another picture of her and Aaron, drawing a sob from her trembling lips.
“(Y/n), what is that all about?”
#Aaron Hotchner imagine#profiling 101#Aaron Hotchner x reader#Aaron Hotchner smut#criminal minds imagine
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Three for One 10
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: Happy Christmas Eve.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
A mess of wrapping paper and gift bags litter the floor around you. Their contents are just as neglectfully strewn across the room, forgotten for the desecration bartered with their giving. Reality blurs between the three men as you’re passed between them, bent, contorted, twisted exactly how they want you.
Your thighs quiver as you’re left to fall onto your ass, heaving as you lean against the end of the section. Fuzzy-brained and bleary-eyed you watch a dark figure bend and the crinkle of paper triggers something in you. The urge to flee courses up from your stomach though you don’t have the strength to heed it.
“Mine,” Andy declares and drops a box beside your foot. You blink and don’t move.
“What the hell, dude? You’re up our asses about rules–” Lloyd challenges.
“Stop whining,” Andy growls back.
You shudder as you remain paralysed in the fog. The box hits your leg as it’s kicked towards you. You reach shakily, not sitting forward, and drag it into your lap. Your hands work without seeing. You pull free a thick ribbon and flick the lid off with your thumb. You feel the soft fabric inside, cashmere maybe? You wouldn’t know.
“Come on, honey,” Andy has you by the arm in an instant.
As he hauls you to your feet, the box and sweater falling forgotten from your lap, he stops. You’re caught in the vice of his grip as his arm stretches past another figure standing almost between you. Andy squeezes harder as he flinches, Lloyd jabbing a finger in his chest. You blink as you struggle to process the scene.
“If all rules are off, then you better not say fucking shit,” Lloyd snarls.
Andy shoves him away, ignoring him as he guides you back until your legs touch the sectional. You have only the gold medallion necklace and stockings left on you. The socks have rumpled below your knees unevenly as the gold charm sticks to your sweaty flesh.
He eases you down onto your back and you sigh as your body relaxes instinctively. You’re not thinking straight. You’re clinging to the hope that this is over, or close too. You can’t take much more. They can’t do this all day.
Andy pulls off his sweater as he puffs. His exasperation tinges the air thickly. The other men loom behind him grumbling.
You wince as Andy pushes your knees wide. You try to close them but he plants one of his own between them. You whimper as your swollen cunt throbs.
“Please,” you beg weakly, reaching to cover your pelvis.
“It’s okay, honey,” Andy sets a hand next to your head to hold himself over you, “we’re getting to the good part.”
“Fucking lame…” Ransom mutters.
You wriggle and put your other hand on Andy’s chest, “please,” you repeat.
“Shh, honey, I’m gonna be good to you,” he feels along your thigh and your insides clench. It’s not over.
You could sob as he touches your folds. You’re overwrought to the point of delirium. He slides between your lips, still slick from your last falling apart. He rubs your clit until you squeak, taking it as an invitation to do more. He dips his fingers into you and back out, repeating the act as your walls squeeze him each time.
He hushes you again as you babble. He pulls his thick fingers out and spreads your cunt wide. He shifts, jarring his hips around as he drops to an elbow. How breath scalds down your face and neck as he puffs through his nose.
He pokes his tip between his knuckles, grunting as he tilts his hips. It’s then you realise what he means to do. He stretches you around his head and you whine as you sink your nails into the furry muscles along his chest. You press your other hand to his hip, repeating again your pathetic plea.
“Always taking his fucking time,” Lloyd hisses, “gonna be all day before he gets his balls wet.”
“Is that good, honey?” Andy pets your forehead as he inches into you.
You bed your legs and squeak. You can barely breathe as you strain to take him in. Your already tender cunt thrums around his intrusion. His small rocking motion jostles you as he tries to ease deeper and deeper. He stops halfway as you cry out, the resistance of your body trapping him.
“Just relax,” he coos as he frames your face, kissing your forehead, “relax,” he coaxes, hips still in rhythm as he battles past the barrier, “honey, I’m being… nice.”
He grunts and snaps his hips, breaking past your last defenses. You wail as you push on his pelvis, still trying to stop him. Your hand trails over to his stomach, slightly soft and as thick as the rest of him. There’s an extra layer of fat there unlike the other men and their firm abs.
“I’m fucking bored,” Lloyd growls but you can’t track his movement as Andy blocks out the room with his body.
You grit your teeth as he reaches his limit, well past your own. You arch your back and feet as you bring both your hands to his shoulders. Your eyes wet and roll back as you garble senselessly. You want him to stop. He said he wouldn’t let them hurt you but here he is, hurting you himself.
Andy’s arm slips under your neck, propping your head up as he covers your mouth with his own. That kiss disgusts you. A manufactured gesture of affection all while he violates you. You want to bite him and spit in his face. You don’t have the energy, you just let it happen. You let his tongue slip inside, you let him split you in two.
There’s another crumple of paper. You don’t react. You’re limp, nearly lifeless beneath Andy as he fucks you with long strokes. Your eyes slit just enough to see as something lands beside you on the couch. Another torn remnant of wrapping paper.
“What do you know?” Lloyd clucks, “it’s one of mine.”
There’s a slap of flesh that has Andy ramming harder into you as he parts from your mouth and grunts.
“Come on, big boy, turn her over.”
“Fuck off,” Andy sneers.
“This isn’t the deal. Turn her over,” Lloyd insists, “it’s two against one if you wanna fuck around and find out.”
Ransom shadow lurks closer as your eyes drift. Andy sighs and curls his arm tighter around your neck while hooking the other around your waist. He sinks down into you and turns you over with him, bringing himself under you. The hard zipper of his open fly bites into you.
You lay bent over him, your head lolling over his shoulder as you shiver with the new flow of cool air across your back. There’s the crinkle of plastic behind you. You don’t care. It can’t be worse if you don’t know what’s going on.
Andy frames your hip and keeps you moving on him. Your legs are weak and jittery as you straddle him. His other hand comes to your chin and he lifts your head, holding you above him as he once more draws you into a desperate kiss. A kiss laced in denial and delusion.
There’s a pinch on your ass and you squeal into Andy’s mouth. The sharp tweak is followed by a jarring slap across the flesh. Lloyd snickers and a cold liquid oozes between your cheeks. You clench at the slimy liquid leaking around your puckered hole.
“I got the flavoured stuff, pussy cat,” he clicks a cap as your ears prick, your eyes searching side to side.
Lloyd’s fingers slip between your cheeks and he circles around your hole. You whimper but Andy keeps you locked in, hand curling around your hip as his other stretches across your throat. The tickle against your tight ring turns to a stinging burn as a thick finger pushes inside, wiggling as it tests your resistance.
You nearly bite Andy as your eyes well. He pushes you away from his mouth as you heave and struggle to bear through the fiery pain radiating from your ass. Lloyd pushes to his first knuckle, then his second, and finally the last. You eke out tiny noises as you struggle to catch your breath.
Andy hushes as he rocks from below, still fucking you, still using you despite this new trespass. You dig your nails into his chest, arms trapped between your bodies, and quiver.
“H-urts,” you babble, “please…”
“Shhh, you’ll be okay,” Andy rasps.
Lloyd snickers as he pulls his finger out and lines up a second. You squeeze your eyes shut and tense as he forces in two that time. He’s less patient as he bulldozes inside, wiggling his fingers inside you once more. He thrusts in and out, the flames licking hotter and hotter.
He pulls his fingers all the way out and licks you instead. The sensation is almost soothing as he laps at your hole. He greedily swirls his tongue, pausing to poke his fingers in a few times, then resumes his loud, gross licking.
The razing sensation of Lloyd’s tending mingles with the pressure of Andy inside you. Your walls twitch as you feel the coil winding tight. No, it shouldn’t feel good. Stop, please stop.
Lloyd buries his fingers, keeping them deep, tilting his hand against you as he curls his knuckles. You can feel it in your cunt along with Andy’s steady motion. You bubble over and whine as you cum, both holes spasming as you succumb to the wave of rolling pleasure.
Andy growls as Lloyd snickers and slides his fingers free. You sense a shift behind you but the grip on your neck keeps you from looking.
“Go for it,” Lloyd chuckles, “loosened her up nice and good for you.”
Another drizzle of cold lube drips down to your now burning hole. You flinch as two hands spread over your cheeks and pull them wide. Ransom pushes your ass together before smacking it. The impact scours your flesh.
He hums and slides his dick between your cheeks. His rigid length glides between the oily flesh as he leans over you, one hand on the armrest to keep himself on his feet. He rocks as he slickens his dick from tip to base before lining up with your hole.
He pushes the head of his dick against you, grunting as he leans his weight into you. You let out a shrill cry as he forces his way inside. Even just his tip is enough to break you. Tears spring free and stream down your cheeks.
He jerks his hips, ramming deeper than you’re ready for. You wail and grasp Andy’s wrist as he nearly chokes your voice out of you. Your eyes meet his, blurry with your agony, but you see the glint in his irises. That tic in his cheek. He’s lost in what he wants. You see him clearly. Selfish, a liar.
Ransom puts his knee on the end of the section as he thrusts again, deeper and deeper. As he does, Andy moves you between them in tandem. The crush of them around you is suffocating. The air is sticky and roiling around you.
Your heart hammers as terror takes over. There is no pleasure to be found anymore. Your chest feels ready to burst as you pant through your constricted throat. Your head pounds as you hyperventilate through your nostrils.
Your hand is pulled away from Andy’s shoulder. Your fingers are once more closed around a rigid length, held closed by another to pump up and down. Your eyes flutter and flip back into your head. Your ears buzz and your body grows heavy. You feel yourself fading as you can’t get enough air into your lungs.
Ransom ruts harder from behind, jolting you into Andy. The fullness is painful and all-consuming. They work together, torturing your insides as one slides in only for the other to slide in. You are overflowing and overstimulated.
Your arm shakes and aches as Lloyd keeps it moving. He groans as he steps closer, his shadow cast over you. He grabs your chin to turn your hand above Andy’s knuckles. He groans as he keeps your hand moving around him. He grunts and aims his tip down, spurting all down your face, from your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, to your chin.
He drags his throbbing head through the glaze of his cum. He smears it all around and pushes his tip against your lips. He snickers meanly as he pushes between your lips. You taste the salty repugnance and nearly gag. You’re too tired, too weak to be disgusted.
He fucks your mouth casually as Andy keeps you in place for him. He relents only as you feel him starting to go soft. He slides out and steps back, letting out an emphatic sigh of satisfaction. He taps your cheek with a cluck.
“Look at the little pussy cat,” he mocks. “Not so fucking smiley now.”
You blink and your head falls over Andy’s grip. Then the rest of you slackens. You’re a doll, lifeless between the men, a thing to be played with. You welcome your descent into the abyss, your only escape from this hell.
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#ransom drysdale#dark ransom drysdale#dark!ransom drysdale#andy barber x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#the gray man#defending jacob#knives out#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#three for one#multifandom#multicharacter
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are you in?
summary: compilation of short blurbs of your's and Emily's relationship before the team knew. Some based on actual chapters. it's just basically how you managed to keep it a secret
TW: I fucked up the show's timeline so try to forget all you know about it, "only one bed" but reverse (it may be shit lol), suggestive content, i think that's it
A/N: Writing this one has been a pain in the ass because every time i edited it i'd loose the changes so there are parts that i don't actually like at all but here it is nonetheless.
As always: English isn't my first language. Reviews are appreciated. Like and reblog <3
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ new blouse?
A near death experience really deserves some kind of celebration
and you suppose a near-job loss experience does too
a week had passed after Emily and Hotch had rejoined the team on that case on Milwaukee, and Emily's head injury was almost just another scar, so when Morgan had asked you if you wanted to go out for drinks, you had looked at your girlfriend and said:"yeah, wny not"
and there you were, sitting at a table right next to Penelope, waiting for your girlfriend to bring all your drinks, and overhearing a conversation she was having with Hayley and Hotch, who seemed very relieved to have the night for themselves. You were supposed to be a part of that conversation, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to listen.
All your focus was deposited on your girlfriend, she had her arms rested on the counter trying to get the waiter's attention, a pair of dark jeans accentuated her figure, and all you could think about was getting home and ripping that blouse off of her.
You would have to settle for just staring, for now. Emily turns around to take a look at your table and catches you starring, you blush instantly, but she just smiles and gives you a wink, which makes you smile too, and suddenly your taken out of the trance by a voice.
"y/n are you listening to me?" Penelope says trying to grab your attention
"sorry, yes, what is it?" she looks at you suspiciously, as if with just her eyes she could decipher what was going on inside your head. She can't go on because Emily comes back with all your drinks, leaving them on the table and sitting next to you , maybe just a little bit too close but you could not complain.
She simply joins the conversation like it was nothing, meanwhile you sip on your drink hopeful that the alcohol will help you take your girlfriend away from your mind. However, Emily has different plans for you, as she rests her hand on you thigh behind the table so no one can see, dangerously high, she can't be bothered at all, she just keeps talking to Hotch as if nothing was going on, but all you can think about is her.
Morgan, who had spent a good hour on the dance floor, collecting girl's phone numbers, comes around, he grabs Penelope's hand to take her to the dance floor with him.
She shoots from her sit, swinging her hips to the rhythm of the music, Morgan guides her, a huge smile on his face as he pulls her to dance with him.
To everyone’s surprise Hotch pulls Hayley to dance with him as well, and just like that, in a matter of seconds, Emily and you are left alone.
When you turn your head to look at her, she places her face closer to yours, dangerously close, you’d say, but you can’t bring yourself to separate.
“Are you having fun baby?” She asks, a soft smile on her lips “yes, but it’s getting hard not to touch you” she smiles, her face closer now you can almost feel her lips brushing against yours. Her hand, which was still on your leg, starts caressing your thigh, setting progressively higher. You’re starting to lean into the contact when you suddenly remember where you are. Anyone who looked at you right now could see the whole scene.
“Em, stop” you say, drawing her hand away from your leg and separating your face form hers “they’re gonna see”
“Ok, yeah, sorry” she says, fake regret on her face as she takes another sip of her drink
“So, I caught you staring at me before, what was it that was so interesting?” She says like it’s the most innocent question ever, but you just know she wants to bother you a bit more. You would never admit how much you love it.
You check no one is looking at you. Both Hayley and Hotch are in their own little world, and Morgan and Penelope are too focused on each other to care. So you lean into her to whisper in her ear
“I was thinking how hot my girlfriend looks and how much I want to rip that blouse off of her” she chuckles and you go for another sip
“Thank you, it’s new” she says louder, like you just asked her the most simple question about her clothes
She leans into your ear this time, with the softest, sexiest voice she just whispers, the feeling of her breath on your ear is suffocating now
“I would love to let you take it off however you want. Do you want to go?” She asks, you eagerly nod your head, begging her with your eyes to take you home right now.
“C’mon, I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and I’m driving you home” she smiles at you and winks, you follow her to the back of the bar where JJ and Spence are, to let them know you’re leaving.
For your surprise, JJ walks up to you too.
“We have a case” she just says, and you look at each other with disappointment.
Looks like Emily’s blouse was staying on for now.
𖨆♡𖨆 3x03 scared to death
It had been a weird morning.
You woke up with a headache. After your last case you had arrived at Emily’s apartment, and parked your car outside so you could get to work on different cars the next day.
You were thinking about having a calm night. A bottle of wine, a movie, Chinese takeout, falling asleep early enough so you wouldn’t be so tired the next day, all that.
Little did you know Emily had some things in mind for you.
The first glass of wine was alright, you were barely feeling it, but after that one another 3 followed, you came up with this stupid game of drinking every time the movie had a cringe scene, and lucky for you the movie was really bad. You would sometimes forget that particular wine affected your girlfriend to a certain level, so one thing leading to another you had fallen asleep at more or less 4am.
Next day you wake up to a very loud phone call. You turn around confused by the phone ringing, but you’re not sure where exactly it’s coming from. It had flown away yesterday night along with your clothes and had landed on the bedroom floor.
Emily's arm was wrapped around your waist, your leg on top of hers, you were both just a mess of sheets and naked bodies. You get out of bed, waking your girlfriend up, who lets out an angry groan.
You finally find the phone behind Emily's pants, JJ's name appearing on the screen. "Hello?" you answer "Hey, we have a case, I can't reach Emily, and you're both late, do you know where she could be?" she asks. You check the time
8:15am
Shit
shitshitshitshitfuckfuckfuck
"yeah, I'm sorry, ugh... i don't know where Emily is, i had a problem with my....kitchen sink...but i'll be there as son as i can ok? bye JJ" you don't even wait for her to answer, you just hang up the phone and run to wake Emily up.
"Em! Baby wake up its 8am we're late!" she finally opens her eyes, her somnolent face tries to decipher what you just said. Her body starts moving first, siting upright.
"JJ just called, we have a case, you have to call her back, tell her there's traffic or something, I'll leave first ok?" you run around, trying to find something wearable. You already had your own drawer at her place for times like this.
You fly around the apartment checking you have everything with you, car keys, purse, phone... You walk up to Emily, still getting dressed, only a pair of pants on and her bra, she’s looking around for something to wear with the pants.
You grab her waist, pulling her in for a kiss “I’ll see you there ok?” You tell her. She smiles at you, then grins, still half a sleep, and you leave.
You weren’t exactly sure if it had been the wine, or the 4 hours of sleep, but you were hoping the meds you had taken with your breakfast (a coffee) would start acting quickly, because your headache was starting to get unbearable.
Sitting on the round table, you revise the file with the case, when Emily arrives, excusing for being late, but Hotch hasn’t even arrived yet and we hadn’t started, so she’s technically still on time.
As soon as you look up to catch a glimpse of her, your headache magically disappears. You regret it immediately because now she’s all you can think about.
It’s ridiculous, you spent hours last night with each other, hell, you spent all day with her! You should’ve had enough of her by now! But how could you when she was wearing that red tank top?
You stare at every movement she makes, taking her jacket off, uncovering her slightly muscular arms, you cannot physically take your eyes off of her, following her every move. Red was definitely her color, there was no argument about that. You could not focus on the case anymore.
After the usual “wheels up in 30” they all leave the room, but you grab your girlfriends arm last second, trying to keep her from leaving. “Em wait a second” You’re both left alone, looking to see if there’s anyone left in the room, everyone has left and far from you two.
"What is it?" she asks
You feel the need to whisper although there's no one in the room anymore "You look so good in this I'm genuinely considering going down on you now" you say tugging the red fabric between your fingers. She smiles widely, getting closer to your face.
You aren't sure where this renewed confidence is coming from, it's just that Emily made you feel like that sometimes.
"was yesterday not enough?" she says in a teasing voice, but you can tell she's feeling just like you. Her face mere inches from yours, you are almost begging her for some action.
"we still have 30 minutes" she twirls her head as if asking you, and you nod, unable to form any words
"ok you go first, I'll meet you down" you're already crossing the door when you turn around, check for anyone who could see you, but there's no one even close to your vicinity.
You rush back, giving Emily a peck on her lips, and separating to go run downstairs.
˚☽˚｡⋆ Can I join?
It's almost time. You can even taste it.
A free night. It's been some time since you got one of those.
You could even see it. A wine glass, your big ass bathtub, a dozen candles, some exotic scented bath products and your wonderful girlfriend.
You look across the room for her, she's working on some files still. You could say she literally feels your eyes on her, because she turns around and catches you staring at her, smiling warmly at you and winking, which makes you instantly blush.
"Any plans for the night, Prentiss?" Morgan asks her coming by her desk, you're already walking up to them so you don't miss a thing from their conversation.
"yes. I got a date" she just says like it was nothing.
A weird sensation runs through your body, a mix between jealousy and excitement. You obviously knew you were the date, but the jealousy came mostly from the fact that she could not mention it was in fact you.
"really? who's the lucky one?" Morgan asks rising his eyebrows
"hot tub" she answers like nothing, just playing it cool, but the grin on her face suggests she has been picturing your night just like you had.
"oh, that sounds like a party" he teases, but she doesn't lose a single second on it "you're so not invited"
"am i?" you come from nowhere, you are right behind Emily, who turns around, holding back a smile, she gives in the game, after all, this is the perfect way to make them not suspect a thing.
"now you, i could consider it" she answers, and you lower your head, smiling to the floor so no one sees it.
"Now that sounds like a better party" he mutters.
.•°•.•. .•.•°•.
The soft bathrobe hugs your body keeping it warm, a wine glass in your hand, resting your back against the sink, you wait as your girlfriend finishes the bath.
The whole scene is idyllic, candles lit all around, low warm light illuminating the stance, Emily's black hair falling on her shoulders, her robe barely closed, she lights the last two candles, and checks the water temperature before walking up to you
"ready?" she asks sweetly, untying the knot in your robe, she takes off hers and gets in first, giving you a hand to help you get in, yourself.
You lay back, resting your back against her, relaxing immediately into her touch. White bubbles around both your bodies. She kisses your neck from the back. Breathing out, you groan at the feeling, she caresses the skin of your ams with her fingertips, gently.
"do you think Morgan can even begin to imagine this?" you ask her, she stops her ministrations to answer you
"i really hope he doesn't, but teasing him is fun" you chuckle
"well, imagine how we'll blow out his mind when we tell him" you begin wondering. She kisses the sensitive skin on the curve of your neck, nipping at the skin, you close you eyes leaning on the contact.
"are you thinking about it?" she stops to ask
"Morgan? hell no" she chuckles
"i mean about telling Morgan" you turn around to look at her, making a bit of water overflowing the tub
"well, yeah, I mean, I think about telling all of them" she twists her head trying to understand
"not now though! Not yet... at all" you can see her relaxing instantly, a smile begining to form on her lips
"Em, this past months have been...amazing, and i want to keep that for ourselves just a little bit more... also the sneaking around is very fun" you both laugh in agreement "but?" she asks waiting for you to add something more
"but, that doesn't mean I'm not excited for our friends to know, you know? I mean, going out together and actually kissing, dancing together, to be able to say we are, well, together tonight... basically just doing it all together" her big brown eyes linger on to you, she's full smiling now, you know she feels the same, but she just wouldn't be the one to tell you.
"i love you" she mutters, you smile, holding to her shoulders for support, warm drops of water running down your arms, you kiss her gently in approval.
"well, i say let's enjoy the meantime then" her hands fly to your waist to hold you, and you kiss her deeply again.
𓇢𓆸 Care to share?
Hotch had decided to call it a day, it was too late, and you all knew how difficult it could be to function when you don't get enough sleep.
You had't had time to check in earlier at the hotel, so when you got there and saw it, you knew that wood creaked like shit.
You had expected nothing less, being in a cold state, the hotel reception had a big fireplace which kept the ambience cozy and warm, the wooden planks creaked behind your feet even behind the thick carpet.
Hotch turns to us, with the room keys in his hands "I'm sorry but this is a small village, this was the only place that still had spare rooms, and they're all packed up this week so some of us will have to share" he says.
"how many?" Morgan asks concerned "two double, three single rooms" Hotch says
"well I'm not sharing with pretty boy here" he complains
"Dave and i can share one" he says "Well, y/n and I also don't mind sharing" Emily rushes to say. You walk up to her "right?" she asks as if she needed to make sure "yeah of course, no problem" you say, smiling at her. Her quick willfulness to share with you and you eager reaction winning you a suspicious look from JJ, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, because tonight none of you would have to sneak out, waiting till it's late enough for the rest to have fallen asleep, you wouldn't have to wake up early to get back to your room, you had your place tonight.
"alright, thank you" you think it's funny, you should be the one thanking Hotch, not the other way around. You grab your key and Emily follows you upstaris.
.•°•.•. .•.•°•.
You can tell the place is old just by the keys, it's an inn more than a hotel. You turn the key in the lock, opening the door partially, when you feel Emily's hands on your waist, grabbing it, you close your eyes as soon as you feel her lips on yours, and she kisses you deeply, possessively.
You surround her body with your arms for support, leaning into the kiss, closing the door behind you with your foot. Tugging your hands on her hair, you surrender to the connection and just give in, not caring who could've caught you mere seconds ago on the hallway.
She pushes you agains the door, her hands finding the way behind your shirt, touching you everywhere, she moves to kiss the corner of your lips, your cheek, the skin behind your ear, leaving a trail of wet warm kisses, finding your pulse point you let out a needy whimper in approval.
"you think JJ knows?" you ask breathlessly "she suspects something, but she can't technically prove it" her lips brushing your neck with every word, her soft breath warm on your skin.
"Well, she should start paying more attenti-" your mouth falls open. It was the first time you had tken a good look at the room since you entered "Em, look" you say trying to stop her ministrations much to your distaste to make her look around.
Emily turns around and takes a look at the room. You should've guessed this would've happened. Hotch would never slept in the same bed as Rossi, and you shouldn't have to do that ether, right?
"Two beds?" she says, in awe. "what do you suggest?" she asks
"should we join them?" you try "we'll end up falling through the middle" she says "ok, then. You chose"
Next day you wake up completely wrapped around Emily, your nose buried in her neck, inhaling her scent, you were almost thankful for the small size of that bed.
───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───
A/N: this one took me a long ass time to finish so i hope its not shit. Like & reblog, any feedback is greatly appreciated. Also I'm open to requests because I'm almost out of ideas
#criminal minds x reader#emily prentiss#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss lesbian#emily prentiss x reader#lesbian#lesbian pride#wlw#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#sapphic#criminal minds#criminal minds one#criminal minds oneshot#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss fanfiction
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Just a reminder for anyone new or anyone who has been lurking:
I know it’s difficult coming into a new fandom but everyone in the Gallavich fandom on tumblr is very friendly and kind, so don’t feel nervous - just jump in and say hi.
Make an intro post and check the #gallavichintro tag to find fellow fans!
Like seriously just send a message or reply to a post. We’re here to have fun, the idea of new people is great because it means more engagement.
When I say people are nice, I mean it. I’ve been in so many different fandoms over 20+ years and this is genuinely the kindest group of people I’ve ever encountered online in a fandom space.
Give your blog an icon. People tend to assume that ones without are spam blogs and may block immediately. Here are some great icons you can use with credit: here / here / here
If you’d like a Gallavich banner for your blog, send me a message - I’d be so happy to make you one! I’ve got ones free to use here / here.
Please don’t steal gifs and repost them, here’s a great post explaining why. And another one explaining the gif search function.
Reblog content you enjoy and write in the tags or reply to the post - how much you liked something or if you have other thoughts…..creators love to hear this!
Use the tags. They’re the best way to get your posts noticed if you’re new- #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ianxmickey any or all of these will work. When you make a post, you should see a little grey box that says something like add tags to help people find your post, just type in there. (You don’t need to use the # symbol. Tumblr automatically does that.)
There are so many brilliant active communities that you can take part in - I’ve done a roundup post here & I will update it with new communities.
If you feel creative? Got for it. Don’t worry about what people think, just share your work. Write that fic or headcanon or meta, draw that art, create that gifset, design that aesthetic piece, share that playlist. Chances are that a lot of people will enjoy your work!
Don’t feel shy about promoting your work either - tag it with #gallavich & the tags mentioned above.
Recommend what you’ve enjoyed! There is no time limit on sharing links to fic, art, headcanons, gifsets, posts of any kind…..reblog/share what you love and keep sharing it. Whether it’s brand new or years old, sharing the work is great idea.
Go back and explore things. Older fics on ao3, gifsets and art from years past, moodboards and headcanons that are years old. None of these things have an expiration date. So reblog them, share them, let people experience them for the first time and allow people to enjoy them for the 2nd/3rd/4th time.
Comment!! It’s such an important thing to do in fandom. Whether it’s on new work or old work, whether you write long comments or just a keyboard smash and emojis - it’s great way to share love to creators, to support/encourage/inspire them and to get involved in fandom. Check out Ian and Mickey’s guide to commenting and other posts about commenting: here // here // here
Share your ideas. Whether it’s headcanons or meta or fics or art, share it. Feel free to explore your ideas. There’s always room for discussion, analysis and creativity.
If you see ask memes or tag games going around, take part! Or even reblog one of these games and tag some people you’d like to get to know better! Don’t feel intimidated, it’s always nice to be tagged.
Keeping reblogging posts. Not just once or twice but again and again. The queue is there for a reason. And each time you do? You’re sharing it with your dash.
Remember, pretty much everyone starts out as a lurker and when it comes to being creative - everyone starts at the beginning. Those writers and artists and creators that you are in awe of? They all started out at square one. Everyone practices and creates over and over again, that’s how it goes. The more you write or draw or create, the better you get. And fandom loves to see it.
Need ideas or inspiration? I’ve got lots and lots of prompts for you!
This is a relatively small-ish fandom but it’s active and there is nothing nicer than new people joining, so don’t hesitate - jump in. It’s so much fun and we’d love you to join us! 💖
If anyone has any tips or encouragement they’d like to share, please reply to this post! 💖
And if you have any questions about using tumblr, send me an ask!
#gallavich#mickey milkovich#ian gallagher#ian x mickey#calli talks#encouragement post for lurkers#this is a revised and updated version of the post I shared last year
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The DCA Palooza is finally here! We're so excited to have you here.
After years of hard work...
The DCA Palooza is finally here.
And here's the intro post.
Why was the Palooza created?
Recently, I made a note commenting on the atrocious reblog-to-like ratios for the Daycare Attendant Fandom. As @chandlelures calculated using their own art, 18 percent of their notes were reblogs, and the rest were likes. Now some are fine with this. For them, likes are any other type of validation except that logic falls flat when you consider how this site works. Reblogs put art on your follower’s dash, keeps the art circulating, and you can leave nice compliments in the tags which artists will probably screenshot and read when they’re feeling sad. It’s about a feedback loop of good vibes and participating in community. The ratio particularly affects smaller artists who may average 10 notes at best, and when over half of those notes are likes–well, it hurts their chance of growing their audience and having more people see their hard work.
That’s why I’m excited to introduce the DCA Palooza!
It’s not just about fixing numbers, or asking people to reblog more. It’s creating an event space where we can share our ideas and art, while also promoting image accessibility (writing IDs, tagging for eyestrain and flashing, etcetera) for disabled fans too! It’s addressing the wider cultural shift that many older fans have complained about, where we’ve started treating ourselves as content creator and consumers, instead of fans all obsessed with the same blorbos. To do our part in fighting against this and building community…
Here are our main goals:
Encourage fans to reblog and support smaller artists.
While we love the concept of “gallery spaces” from @roachworks Gallery Jamboree! You don’t need to create a sideblog to become a curator. If you want to join Monthly Wrap Ups (where you promote new artists and AUs you found) all you need to do is tag @dca-fanart-gallery to join the event! We’ll see your tag, reblog from you, and then go hunt down those artists you mentioned and reblog from them too :D!
Host weekly magmas and community events
Magmas are a place where multiple artists can draw on the same canvas. It’s a great way to find new artists and their art styles, and have fun with their community. They’re currently hosted by @venomous-qwille every Saturday, and we post the art pieces in our Discord
Raise awareness about accessibility
In the Discord Server, we ask that you write short IDs for every image you post and hopefully learn to write IDs for your own art. The main gallery will promote accessible artists and link to resources for writing image descriptions, as well as write IDs for much of the art we reblog. It doesn’t take too long to learn, and as the original artist, you’ll know what to emphasize in an ID than we’ll ever can!
How can you support us?
Check out and follow @dca-fanart-galleryl! It’s run by a blind Y/N who’s trying to understand where the heck these blorbos came from. Donate your abandoned sketches to become coloring pages for the @dca-coloring-book! Look at the ID guides tag and make your art accessible for your fellow blind/visually impaired fans. And most excitedly...
Join our discord server and have loads of fun!
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melting the ice
✧ notes: work 3 of my "autumn remedies" event, admittedly a day late. if you liked this fic, consider reblogging and commenting! interactions are what keeps writers motivated. decided to go with headcanons for this because it worked better.👋🏻 i also decided i might post them out of order and post two in one day etc. so it's more flexible for me. everything that's listed for a specific week in october will be posted that week though!
✧ contains: march supports a reader who is dissociating, could be platonic too
✧ now playing: safe and sound — taylor swift
✧ warnings: dissociation
March doesn't really know about dissociation as it hasn't been that long since she was taken in by the Astral Express and freed from the six-phased ice and she has not encountered it noticeably during that time. So when it happens to you, she's at first at a loss of what to do. She doesn't really know how to describe what is happening to you, she just sees that you're spaced out and struggle to respond to her when she talks to you and don't really seem to realize everything that goes on around you
At first, she doesn't really do anything but try to reach you verbally multiple times and decide to give you your space when you dissociate.
She is worried about you and does use the opportunity to talk with you about it when you're doing better.
If you don't want to talk about it, she won't bother you about it.
But if you do decide to tell her what is happening to you, she listens attentively about how to support you.
It's Welt who gives her the most useful tips on how to support you.
She learns more about the topic from entries in the Astral Express Archives so that she can do her best to support you when you need it.
She even falls asleep over a book at Dan Heng's desk once and he has to shake her awake so he can go to bed.
The more she learns about it, the more she's reminded of how it felt to be within the six-phased ice. It felt like a long, endless dream and when the ice was finally melting, she snapped out of that dream to feel the warmth of the people she'd come to consider home within the coming months. She had felt safe and like she arrived where she was meant to be. March wants to give you that feeling as well.
So she talks to you about what is okay to do when you dissociate. Whether she can touch you or whether there's something she could get that might help you.
If you let her, she will sit down next to you and softly talk to you. "Hey...it's me, March", her tone will be a little awkward at first but there's so much care in it, "I'm here for you. I'm going to put my hand on your shoulder, okay?"
She tells you everything that she is going to do as to not frighten you. She'll wrap an arm around your shoulder and gently draws circles on your skin, telling you to focus on her touch.
She might cover her fingers with her ice abilities if the cold helps to ground you in reality.
March will talk to you, much slower and softer than you're used to from her usually so enthusiastic and energetic nature, even if you don't respond. Her presence and her voice calms you down and she doesn't mind being patient with you.
She'll gently wrap her arms around you and hugs you if she knows that's something you're okay with. She'll hold onto you for as long as you need her.
March remembers the feeling of waking up from the ice. Everything was cold and dark and the world outside seemed so different. And then the darkness faded more and more in the presence of her friends' voices. They were patient with her and so welcoming. March thinks she's only fair to give this same treatment back to the people she loves.
So even if you feel lost or distant from the world around you, March is ready to be your lighthouse, guiding you safely back to the shores where you feel at home. Even if you're scared and feel like you're losing your grip on your surroundings, her voice is the first thing you hear and you know in that moment that, even though you're afraid or feel numb, things are going to be okay.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#march 7th x reader#march x reader#hsr march#march 7th#march 7th x you#march 7th headcanons
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Hazbin Hotel thoughts Bonus 2
Heaven's side : "how are they with kids" + "react to a drawing of themselves"
(Hazbin Hotel thoughts : How are they with kids, main cast here)
(Hazbin Hotel thoughts : Reacting to a drawing of themselves, main cast here)
Masterpost here.
So, uh, I've seen there's been likes, and reblogs (seriously where do y'all come from), and that hypothetically you may be interested in Heaven's side of the same thing -- Oh who am I kidding yes I came up with ideas and couldn't resist sharing, let's go.
(On that note, I'm editing the previous posts that started it all so that y'all have links from one to the other, because a funny thing I realized is that I have completely different people liking each post each time, there's absolutely no common name - which is funny to me given that one is the bonus of the other.)
Without further ado, here we go :
Emily is just the friendliest babysitter around. Not unlike Charlie, she'll react with glee to anything the kid does, especially when they're progressing on something. She's very encouraging and supportive, also accomodating : unless the child is okay with her less humanlike appearance, she'll keep her extra eyes closed, and will only gradually insert the change overtime, while mostly keeping her casual disguise. Touch her fluffy wings ? Her equally fluffy hair ? Even her halo ? Sure ! Just don't nab on them. She'll gently break down what's okay from what is not, that respect is a thing and boundaries too, and for each and every person they're different. Tantrum ? She'll be gentle but firm about it, because while she is nice and caring, she also has limits and reasonable authority. No Bad Things on her watch, and she'll explain why they're bad at length. Doesn't matter if the child is a Sinner, a Hellborn, a Living soul or a Winner. Always eager to let the kid try new things, give the maximum of options, and free choice is a big deal to her - she'll be here to help anytime, and interacts a lot with the kid. Expect a lot of what we don't know, we can find out together ! Might be a bit too coddling at times, though not to Charlie's levels, probably. Affection is given by the gallons.
A drawing of her ? For her ? Why that day in Heaven is super-happy amongst happy days ! Ironically, given the art-style, it's closer to her true form, but nonetheless, she adores it, and can't wait to show Sera. If she can't pin it somewhere, she'll keep it on her own person, in a nice pocket dimension or accessible through summon magic, so she can whip it out at anytime and show it to whoever's asking. Might give it a glance or look at times before turning in for the night (do they have nights in Heaven ? If Hell does, probably yes), squealing out a delighted giggle for herself. She'll presciously keep it safe and spotless.
Sera is poised and regal no matter the circumstances. She's gentle and patient, and while she will take the role of a guiding hand too, contrary to Emily who's happy to let the child steer and put herself on their level, Sera will never leave the role nor status of The Adult and guides away instead of towards. There's a delimited, arbitrary comfort zone the child shouldn't ask questions out of, and she won't be keen simply answering that she doesn't know the answer, deviating it towards something else or just put an end to the discussion (That's not important. What you have to know is that you can't do that). That's not to say that she's uncaring, or harsh, it's just that her worry overwrites the child's choices at times. A demon or Sinner child might be met with a bit more condescention and less roaming freedom than a Living or Winner soul, but Sera will take great care of them nonetheless, and make sure no harm happens to them. Tantrums are met with the time-out corner or cold shoulder, but she doesn't like to punish the kid, only seeing it as a necessity - and she'll still be around to talk in case things get better in the meantime. She's compassionate, but her emotional distance mostly turns it into pity and a dash of coldness, her affection is more subdued. She'll keep her most humanlike form at all times.
Drawings of her ? She'll gladly accept them, giving a soft but genuine smile. She appreciates the attention, and will politely listen to the child explaining how they drew the pic, not really commenting nor asking questions but still sincerely listening about it. She might keep it in a folder or hang it somewhere private, somewhere that doesn't interfere with her work, but still somewhere visible in her own quarters - and that, no matter the type of soul who offers.
Now who in their right mind would give a child to take care of to Adam ? Yet, disaster dominoes lined up - or let's say it's an order from Sera, she's too busy to do it and Emily isn't available - and against all common sense a kid ended up in his... care. Welp, it's a disaster from start to finish, especially when the misogynist tendencies kick in : expect a lot of outdated and downright gross comments about you'll see when you grow up, and do you know how you came from these nuts ? flauntering his "Original Dick" status all over the place. He won't be hitting on a child (not his thing), thank hell, but he has absolutely NO censor, crossing the line all the way up to its deceased grandmother, getting her corpse pregnant and aborting the resulting baby (...QED). Worse if the kid is a girl, because he'll automatically deem her inferior, also did I tell you how the two first women are stupid bitches ? Guess where you come from. If the child is a demon, he'll try to weasel out, but an order from Sera will hold him back and anyway it's no fun when outside the right setting : there's no fight, no chase, no thrill. He'll just begrudgingly roll with it. Don't count on any healthy or child-appropriate food : it's junk food at all hours or nothing. Naptime - well, what naptime ? Can't a guy play guitar in peace ? Also, only pussies cry. Man the fuck up. Kiddo is his groupie whether they like it or not, his personal little hype-man. He will TOTALLY use them to try to hit on "chicks".
He also WILL forget the child in a parking lot, however more unintentionally than not (Wait, didn't I had a thing to take care of ?), rough them around by carrying them like a sack of potatoes, bring them to inappropriate places (tough to find in Heaven, I guess, but if he can have his way with a Virtue angel and brag about it there might be stuff going on, just not as much as in Hell) and just be his crass-mouthed self without much of a care. Might resort to the threat of physical violence as a scare tactic to get the kid to behave (the way he wants), though maybe not applying it (I'm ambivalent about that : I guess it can go both ways - just shaking to rough up and scare off or really giving a smack). Really, the only way to get along with him is to find him cool or admire him in some way, and he might soften a bit (...really a bit) and bond a tad (a tiny tad) over rock music : again, being his hype-man. If Adam gets to show off and have a fan, it'll be just one small metric less of a complete catastrophe.
Which brings us to : drawings of him. Nevermind the quality, he'll always ask to add stuff that makes him cool (No, you forgot the spikes !! And where's the guitar ? Add it ! Here ! Look, just take that bright yellow fucking crayon, it's easy as puss !) and might even rip the drawing material out of the kid's hands to add it himself. The guy will be competitive about it : either he's the coolest or the kiddo might as well redo the entire thing. Once he's satisfied, he'll keep it, frame it in the most extravagant frame he can think of, sign it over the kid's signature and pin it somewhere he can easily see it. With time, he'll forgot who did it (Got that from a fan, er... whatstheirface) and move on, not realizing that his mental age has been forever lower than the kid's he was supposed to take care of.
And as the answer to the infamous "can't get worse", yes it can ! Lute. Bohohoyyyy, LUTE. She's no babysitter, she's a fanatic fighter, a bloodthirsty warrior, and the only thing holding her back from skewering a demon child is a direct order from Sera. So she'll be as neglectful and abusive verbally and emotionally as she can get away with. Cries get on her nerves. Tantrums ? She'll boot the kid in a room and lock them up there for the rest of the day. Sinners and Hellborn aren't given any toys. Food is composed of rests. She doesn't have time for that shit. Even Winner children are barely worth her attention, though she can plaster a semblance of decency on her face towards them - don't expect her to smile, though. She's not here for that. She won't even think of the brat as useful to her, it's like a stupid assignment she got saddled with. A heaven-bound soul ? Bare necessities are taken care of, next to no interaction, no affection given, the sooner it's over with the better. A hell-bound soul ? She'll imprint their features into her mind and make sure to find them, down there, next Extermination. A wretched Sinner shouldn't even set foot near the Pearly Gates. The only thing keeping her from dumping that vile blasphemy of a soul is that she'd rather keep an eye on them herself, because she's the only one strong enough to not fall for any of their traps, for sure.
A drawing of her ? Don't accept anything from a demon and rip it into pieces right then and there. It's just a mockery of her, whatever the quality is, and don't you ever think I can't see what you're doing you little shitstain clinging at my boots. The same drawing from a heaven-bound soul ? Eh. Meh. Thanks I guess. She'll tuck it somewhere, forget about it, and if it has folds or coffee stains or whatever else damaging it, not her problem. Someone finds it ? She'll brush it off, tell them they can keep it, do her a favor, she doesn't have time nor thoughtspace for this. Better than to let it rot here. If it ends up falling in her line of sight again, she'll derive a wicked self-righteous confidence that she's fighting for the right thing. And the thrill of battle, of course, but hey, that one's not on the drawing, so she'll supply it herself, in her mind.
And because why the hell not, St-Peter. If it's a hell-bound soul, he'll ask if there's any mistakes, but nope, he's really gonna babysit a little demon today. Well in that case, no problem, Welcome To Heaven and all that jazz ! Just don't do demon-y things, okay ? Now what would you like to do ? We can go on a seminar about how to help grandmas cross the roads, or how to be parsimonious while partying and oh, oh, how about a coooourse - oooon - generosity ! Past that first hurdle, he'll be a genuinely sweet guy, treating all souls alike. His problem ? Well, two : first, unlike Emily, he has no authority and will get trampled on by any kid who's a bit more stubborn than the norm, and second, his Don't Do That (TM) sermons can. Last. Hours. He'll accidentally cause more naptimes by pointing out the 547 reasons of why littering is bad that when he'd actually asked the child to take a nap, or is too engrossed in his speech to see that the kid has given him the slip. Weak to puppy-dog eyes. He'll buy that ice scream with rainbow sprinkles, okay, okay, don't look at him like that ! But he'll be also a great guide and has a ton of ideas on activities, even if commenting a bit too much about them. Might catch on the fact that his sermon-talking induces sleep and appropriately uses it in a savvy way. He'll stay polite, but without hypocrisy : if a kid points out that he swore earlier when they told him they're Belphegor's 2nd cousin thrice removed, he'll agree, apologize, and explain why it's bad. Kind of cleaning-inclined ? Please keep the brimstones off the floor at least. He'll insist that things are tidied up after playing, leaving a mess isn't the politest thing after all, and will include the kid in that : they can clean up together, he'll help !
A drawing of him ? Depending on what he'll receive, he'll be elated, or really working out his optimism and trying to be as less judgemental as possible. Why aren't you the most precious, kindest soul. Your style is... uh... unique ? Why - why is blood - oh, ooooh, what a fabulous one-single-color rainbow, oh, ahem, that's so sweet ! And look at those little arms NOT up crying for help, but in what I'm sure is excitement ! And those... tears -- of happiness of course ! Ahem, do you need therapy ? But whatever it is, he'll keep it, because he considers it a gift. Just that, depending on the degree of disturbing-ness, it's either on a wall in his office at home, or in a folder under a looong stack of papers and other things he'd rather look at rarely. But he'll still shed a tear over a smile when his babysitting time comes to an end, especially if he actually managed to bond with the kid, whatever realm they're bound to. Awww.
Well, here you have it ! Dunno if I'll pour other ideas of the same type (cast + kids), but it's surely not the last speculative rant you'll see from me (I guess). Hope you enjoyed.
(And thanks for the likes and reblogs, it made my day.)
Again, Masterpost here.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel emily#hazbin hotel sera#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#hazbin hotel saint peter#hazbin adam#hazbin emily#hazbin lute#hazbin sera#hazbin st peter#hazbin hotel thoughts
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murphy's guide to uuuuuh writing objects/places/locations and things (because two whole people asked)
greetings. this guide may or may not help you, as is true of all guides and advice and tips and tricks. but it helped me, and since i'm the protagonist of this blog this is my definitive guide. it shrimply may not be yours. mileage may vary. that said, allow me to give you said advice in the hopes that it does, in fact, aid you,
so when i was a tiny tater tot you know what i hated writing? descriptions. a lot of people really hate it and so did i, because descriptions were just these big blocks of text that got in the way of the FUN STUFF. you know; the plot! the dialogue! the characters! and i see a lot of writers who, to this day, find themselves writing reams and reams of dialogue with no way of knowing where characters are or what they're doing/holding/interacting with, and even if they do explain, it tends to be a few lines like 'they're in the living room' or 'they're sitting on a chair' like we're directing a film.
[INT. CAFE]
they are sitting in some chairs by a table. i'll let the props department decide what kind.
the reality is, you are trying to weave a world in which your reader can step into, and a big part of that is writing the uh. the world. and a few years ago i had a revelation that made writing scenes and descriptions so much fun that it's honestly now my favourite part of writing, and a huge part of this realisation comes from my work as a visual artist. so, i'm going to explain The Box.
now, i want to stress that The Box was not my creation. rather, that honour goes to eric hibbeler and his tutorial eric's thoughts on drawing backgrounds and props, which i'll add a link to in a reblog/reply so tumblr doesn't cast this post into the shadow realm (thanks, tumblr!) but the guide he made also applies to writing with just a bit of tweaking, and i'm gonna explain how.
this cardboard box is just a cardboard box, and it's likely the sort of box you're imagining if i say the words a cardboard box. it's nondescript and pretty generic, and in a scene that calls for a cardboard box, it'll do the job! when we write, describing stuff like the chair or the window or the carpet is vague enough that the reader will, usually, just fill in the visual gap with what their interpretation of the chair or the window or the carpet is. for all you know, their mental image of the scene uses the carpet from the shining! but the thing is, YOU, the writer, may have a WILDLY different vision on the carpet (or chair/window/box etc.) and that's where you need to step in and get SPECIFIC about details.
here is a different take on the same box. we've gotten much more specific about the box's history here; it's been used in a move or for storage at some point, it's been kicked around, taped up, taped down, put a in puddle at one point, had a cat give it a few scratches... it's not that many changes, not really, but the box has--say it with me--character.
character, by definition, means the aggregate of features and traits that form the individual nature of some person or thing. what some writers tend to do, however, is forget this word applies just as much to inanimate objects as it does to the people in their stories. we give characters a lot of, well... character, and forget entirely about the things around them having just as (much if not more) to define them.
in essence, what changed my approach to writing places and locations and backgrounds was the realisation was these are also characters in my scene, with just as much contribution to the plot and the information being provided as any individual person in the same instance. it was only when i realised how important adding such character in visual art was that i realised the same applied to writing!
let's take, for instance, a bedroom in which two characters are holding a conversation. you may be tempted to keep your details sparse except for things that are directly plot relevant because you want to get on with the good bits, i.e. the talk itself, but what you can use the bedroom for is to tell information about the owner or resident without having to outline it in exposition. this is where getting good at giving character to spaces becomes very powerful as a tool.
Velvet's bedroom wasn't much to look at; a double-bed, a desk to edit her photos at, and a few pictures of her family and friends on the walls. Still, she sits down on her bed and invites Blake to do the same.
In this instance, a reader gets the general gist of the location--it's a bedroom with bedroom-typical things in it--but the room lacks any characters or specificity, which sticks out for narrative reasons because velvet is full of character; her bedroom would be the same! so, we have to build on what her bedroom would actually be like in order to build its character and define velvet without directly saying what she's like as a person:
Velvet's bedroom was in disarray, as ever; she hadn't made her bed because she wasn't really expecting guests, and her desk was littered with all her photography gear from SD cards to lenses to all her cleaning supplies. A few last-ditch attempts to make the place look a little more organised took the form of straightening out all her framed pictures of her family and friends that took up all the wall space she could spare, dusting off her big pride flag over her bed before she plopped herself down, straightening out her duvet before inviting Blake to sit next to her with a smile.
now, the bedroom has prominence as its own source of information: we understand that velvet isn't really a tidy person by nature; photography is a big enough part of her life to dominate her personal space; her family and her friends are important to her; her identity is also a large component of her personality; she likes to try and give her guests a better impression even if it's half-assed. and we covered all that without velvet actually having to say any of that information out loud! wow!
normally, of course, i'd lace that information in a little more subtly and over a few paragraphs rather than in one big dump, but the effect is the same; when a space has character, you can treat it as a character that has just as much importance to a scene as the dialogue or the interactions two people have.
this concept can be applied to a single prop, like a box or a camera or a desk or the like, and can also be applied to a much bigger location, like a park or a school or a house or more. the idea is that often, things are never just in their generic form, but have history that impacts the way it looks or defines the person or people who interact with it.
you wouldn't write these two playgrounds in exactly the same way; they both have a swing, a slide, a bench, a sign, and a tree... but depending on how you write it, one has a kind of character for a setting, narrative, or larger location that's way different to the other! this ends up defining your wider world, too; maybe one playground is nice and new because the council got the funding they asked for, but the other is in an area known for having little investment? in the end, were these two parks humanised, they'd likely be people with very different personalities; that's the sort of approach you should have!
the TL;DR of this whole thing is that description is not the part where you start listing off items in the room or the building or the location just so your reader has a vague idea of where they are, but an opportunity to turn that space into a person who has a whole bunch to say about the people who are frequently present. you can even see this in action by writing the differences between, say, your bedroom and the bedroom of your sibling/parent/friend; chances are, they're VERY different spaces that represent two very different people! this is also true of a kitchen, your home, your school, your campus, or your workplace; the office of someone who works in IT won't look like the office of someone who works in accounting, even if they share a lot of qualities and items.
ultimately, think of the humble Box; sure, a regular cardboard box might suffice to give the reader an idea of what's in a scene, but when we give that Box a personality of its own, suddenly that Box has a lot to say about the person who owns it--and not all of them may be good!
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Hi Twisted Wonderland fandom I'm Jovie
Here's me!! Warning I like self-inserting myself at times, if that's not your thing get out (Yes, I mean self-shipping, Azul my beloved <3 Yes I'm cringe).
As the name suggests, I invaded the Ramshackle dorm and now live rent-free in there. No one knows where I popped out from I just started existing one day in NRC
A little disclaimer to say my persona doesn't 100% represent me as a person, she's just a very silly and feral version of myself I use to have fun and indulge for comfort
Errrmmm this blog is specifically for twst-related things because my hyperfixation is getting out of hand. I've been around since the EN version dropped (Jesus Christ over two years) and I've dedicated so much time to this game that I think I'm going insane!!!
I'll post mostly about my MC, Jess (bio coming soon I promise) since I wanna flesh them out as much as I can with both drawing and writing!
Expect lots of rambling- I really like talking about this game and my OCs
Some stuff I'd like to say, ahem:
Feel free to send asks please it's very much appreciated!! Tell me about your ocs or ask about mine, please!! This fandom is so creative and I wanna see more of that here!!!!! Similarly likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!! 💝
I'm a little awkward online and kinda new to being an active member of a fandom, so I only ask for a bit of patience with me lmao
Please, only ask me to be mutuals if you've been following me for a while, or if I happen to already follow you. As I said I'm a bit awkward online! If any of the 2 cases apply, feel free to ask me to be moots, I'd love to!
Simply, don't be weird or rude. I won't set any rules because I think common human decency is enough to keep in mind 😭
I'm a minor, don't be weird, please.
I'm dyslexic (diagnosed) so if I misread something, feel free to correct me!
Like I said, I love rambling so uhhh if my posts sometimes end up being long don't be surprised
Not really a multi-fandom account (ignore what my image intro says it's a bit old shhh) but I may post some non-twst stuff if the mood strikes
Unmm Azul's my favourite (if it wasn't obvious) and I'm a certified Azul and Deuce kinnie
Also, I'm Greek, so we believe in Greek Idia supremacy in this household
I'm also Azul's girlfriend/j
A small guide to my tags (when I remember to tag stuff properly at least)
#jovie's art - anything drawn by me
#jovie's writing - anything written by me (includes both rambles and structured writing)
#jovie's rants - random posts of me rambling/ranting about random things
#jess ariti - my MC's tag
#winter bloom - I ship my MC Jess with Neige, making this their ship name
#yumeship - posts of me shipping my sona with canon characters lmao (mostly Azul because I-)
But yeah that's about it! I've been meaning to make this for a while, but only now did I decide to finally finish it lmao
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#meet the artist#artists on tumblr#queer artist#digital artist#small artist#jovie in ramshackle#blog intro#twst intro#azul plz date me/j
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⇾ PINNED POST ⇽
Hi! You can call me Gekko. I make art, primarily for my Hollow Knight AU, named Feral PK AU, but I also occasionally draw fanart or reblog posts related to other media. That being said, the AU is the main focus of this blog.
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Other places to find me:
» twitter // 🔞
» bluesky
» ko-fi
Art tag: #gekko.art
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✦ AU SUMMARY & TIMELINE ✦
✦ AU INFO PAGE (WIP) ✦
AU RELATED TAGS:
#feral pk au - the main AU tag, contains all related art, posts and ask responses
#modern fpk au - tag for the modern spin-off of the AU; same as above
#au designs - tag for all the AU character design sheets and other related posts
#au character bios - similarly to above, this tag includes written down descriptions for the AU characters
#au worldbuilding - tag for all posts/ask responses related to the general AU worldbuilding headcanons
#save - this is how I tag AU related posts which I find to be worth reading for a better understanding of the characters, or anything else I want to easily access in the future
#ask stuff - tag for all ask responses. If you only want those related to the AU, I recommend browsing through the main AU tag instead
#art guide - tag for any art tips and guides that I posted
*If you're interested in reading about a specific character in the AU, I recommend using #[character name] in the search bar on my blog. This is mostly for most notable ask responses, but also posts that remind me of said characters as well as art pieces (mainly those which aren't outdated)
( Here are the tags for the more prominent characters: #fpk | #grimm / #nkg | #hornet | #holly | #zote | #lewk | #asta | #milo | #wl | #brumm | #divine | #bretta | #lurien | #jiji | #ogrim )
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(disclaimers about the blog and the AU below)
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DISCLAIMERS:
» Please do not reupload my art anywhere. I'm okay with people using it as their icons/banners, but please remember to credit me.
» Since this is a primarily AU related blog, anything I say about the characters is from a headcanon lens. Some of my headcanons might be quite different from the most popular fanon interpretations, so please be aware of that before you respond, especially in regards to fandom jokes and character hate.
» Although I might occasionally touch upon topics that are in the suggestive territory, this blog is still SFW. I will not be posting any explicit artwork, and I try to keep the suggestive topics somewhat tasteful. If you are interested in my NSFW art, do not ask me to post it here, instead head over to my Twitter private alt.
» Some of my art includes blood and mild gore, though I try to tag it whenever there's excessive amounts of it in the artwork (I use the tags #blood and #gore). There may also be mentions/depictions of pregnancy, please block the tags #pregnancy (for art) and #pregnancy mention (for text posts) if you would prefer not to see it/read about it. Please let me know if there are any other triggers that you would like me to tag!
» A large chunk of my drawings and posts features the ship Pale Nightmare, so if you dislike it I would not recommend following my blog. It's the only ship I'm invested in, and while I avoid ship discourse, there are some that I find uncomfortable, particularly those between the characters that I consider family within the AU (Grimm/Hornet and Grimm/Hollow being the primary ones).
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AU RELATED DISCLAIMERS/FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:
» The AU takes place after the Embrace the Void ending, and so The Knight/Ghost is not present. Here is a post detailing what happened to them (and the other shade siblings in the Abyss).
» Feral PK's name in the AU is Vyrm (an alternate spelling of Wyrm that he uses as his name), though for the purpose of the asks and other posts I call him FPK. Also, I headcanon him as gay (demi-gay to be more precise). At the current point in the AU he and The White Lady are separated.
» As you probably noticed, most of my designs stray very far from insect-like interpretations. That is very much intentional. In the AU, I see "bug" as a general term for "people", not an implication that they are all insects. While some characters do have more insect-like anatomy, there are others which possess reptilian, mammalian or even plant-like traits. I go a little more in detail on how I see that term in this post. So while I'm not bothered by people referring to for example, Grimm or FPK as insects, keep in mind that this is not how I personally view them.
» Additionally, I see the characters as much larger than real life insects. As a reference point, FPK is similar in height to a raccoon standing bipedally. For this reason, most of the characters have skeletal structures to support larger body mass. There are some exceptions, notably characters such as Unn.
» Please keep in mind that the AU originated as something I found comfort in, and it remains that way. There may be inconsistencies, I might retcon things on the go, and some things may simply not be well written. I also have no plans to turn this into a fanfic or a comic.
» I'm always open to answer questions about the AU and the characters! So if you have any, please don't be afraid to send me an ask, I absolutely love responding to them. 💖
» I am currently working on a separate page for a more detailed AU write-up.
#intro post#mentioned tags ->#gekko.art#feral pk au#modern fpk au#au summary#au designs#au character bios#au worldbuilding#save#ask stuff
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Crushed 11
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.
Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine
Note: Yo, things are getting intense at work.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖
You leave a message for your landlord after several failed calls. You come out defeated and hesitant. Your apartment is your comfort, it's your safe space, but it's been breached and you're displaced here. As kind as Jonathan is, that can't last forever. He is your boss after all and you need your job.
The scent of cinnamon draws you to the kitchen, along with the subtle movement clinks and tinking inside. You lean on the doorframe as you watch Jonathan's back, the thin string of an apron tied around his waist and a thicker band along his neck. He hums as he pushes down the plunger of a glass coffee press.
"Uh, hi," you eke out and his long fingers nearly take off the lid of the press. He chuckles and steadies it, shifting to look at you, "er, morning."
"Morning, barely," he muses as he glances at the digital number glowing on the stove, "I've got some scones in and I think we could pair it well with some porridge, if you're fond of it. Or perhaps, yogurt and some fresh fruit. A touch of granola…"
"Yeah, uh, you didn't have to do all this," you rub the back of your neck, "I left my landlord a message. I should head out and figure out a locksmith–"
"Ah, yes, I forgot," he extends a finger, "I've taken care of all that. My own lessor had some recommendations and I was able to arrange the repair. The keys should be delivered shortly–"
"Oh," you blink and chew your lip. He's so helpful. Too helpful. Or maybe you're ungrateful. "Again, thanks, I… I owe you. For a lot it seems."
"I hope it wasn't too much," he says as he checks his watch and grabs the oven mitt, "I only thought to ease the burden–"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You have everything figured out and I'm just helpless," you throw your hands up and cover your face, immediately scalded by your own temper. Why did you say that? "I'm sorry. I'm just so stressed, I can't think. I just want everything to be normal and…" you suck in air, pressing the heels of your hands to your forehead as you rant, "and I'm not this kind of person. I'm the sort to…" you inhale again, dizzy as it stings in your chest, "I just… I just…"
You bend over, clutching your head as you feel like folding. You're startled as Jonathan's hand clasp around your arm and he pulls you up, gently guiding you to sit on the short foot stool beside the counter. He gets to his knees and grips your shoulders, holding you straight as your head lolls. You don't know what's going on, it's like you've lost control of your body.
"Fawn, breathe. Yes? Let's count, one - in," he exhales, "two - out," his thumbs caress you through your shirt, "in… out. Three, four…"
You focus and close your eyes. Are you really having a meltdown in your boss's home? You count in your head, then outloud, measuring you breaths until your heart peters out.
"There we go," he slowly releases you, putting his hands on his knees as he stands with a low grunt, "if the caffeine is too much, I can squeeze some orange juice–"
"I'm fine," you reach up and pull yourself to the feet with the edge of the counter, "really, you've done enough."
"I've done what any decent person would," he shrugs as he opens a cupboard, "you are obviously dealing with a full plate, but I can't help but feel I don't know the half of it."
"What do you mean?"
"Car break's down and you get a visit from a home intruder. A string of bad luck, certainly, and it would have anyone addled, but… there seems a bit more than that. Something that's been bothering you a while," he pours two mugs of coffee, "it isn't my place to delve into your personal life, but I will say, I would help if I could. If you asked."
You shudder. You don't know what to say. The plucking in your chest wants you to tell him everything but that tick in your head says it's none of his concern. You've crossed enough lines.
He doesn't need to pick up after your stupid feelings. You made the dumb decision to crush on your neighbour, to welcome him in, to fawn over him like an unloved wife. Now you just have to deal with.
Hopefully, the new lock is just the beginning of shutting Colin out of your life.
"Really, it's just the car and the door. I'm sure you've got enough going on with the audit, huh," your voice shakes, betraying you.
"Ah, yes, standard," he places a cup before you, just on the corner of the counter, "I've done it before. Nothing out of the usual," he hooks his finger through the handle of his own mug, "well, one special thing; I don't mind the people."
He smiles as he lifts his coffee and you feel the world brighten just a lt.
No. No. Not that feeling. Not that flutter. Didn't Colin teach you better? Oh boy. You're not thinking straight, you're tired, you haven't had your coffee, you're crazy!
You pick up your cup and blow out a chestful of air. Get your head on straight. One man at a time. No, one thing at a time.
💗
“You know, I don’t mind if you’d rather stay another night,” Jonathan keeps one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm slack against the armrest, “I can understand if you don’t feel safe–”
“No, I’m good. I just want to get back on track. Everything feels so… disorderly.”
“I know what you mean. Even if I tend to live a nomadic life. Some people thrive on being settled, others not so much,” he muses, “have you heard about your car? Do I need to keep Pine’s luxury taxi in service?”
“Taxi? Oh, I’m so sorry. No. I uh, I can take the bus. And I can spot you some gas money–”
“I’m joking, darling,” he assures with a ripple of his fingers, “I don’t mind. It’s nice to have someone else for the morning ride. I find waking up alone a bit sombre… in a strange city. I’m a far way from home.”
“Uh, yeah, I can’t imagine…”
“I recall you mentioned you’ve never visited England. Pity. You should think about it one day. If you need a personal tour guide…”
“Mmm, yeah, maybe someday. Probably not anytime soon,” you mull and turn your gaze out the window.
“Of course,” he agrees, “I shouldn’t complain so much, traveling for work can really be a privilege. I know at least, it has afforded me the luxury of meeting many good people.”
“Yeah,” you say absently as your vision blurs and your mind drifts.
“...sisters? You said you have some a few towns over?”
You shake yourself from your trance. Your head clears as you straighten in your seat.
“Yeah, my one sister is pregnant, another’s getting married, the other two… well, they’re younger, they’re still growing up,” you say, “don’t really see them much.”
“Lots going on. So there’s going to be a wedding?” He prompts, stopping at a light.
“Hm?”
“Your sister?”
“Er, yes, yeah, actually, I still haven’t got the invitation,” you chuckle nervously, “I’m sure it’s in the mail.”
“And are you a bridesmaid?”
“I… she didn’t say anything,” you utter. You hadn’t even thought of that.
“Well, I’m sure she has a lot to plan, in due time,” he cranks the wheel and pulls a U-turn to come parallel to the curb in front of your building, “you are delivered. Nice and safe.”
“Thanks again,” you grab your bag from your feet and hit the button on your seatbelt. “I really… I owe you.”
“You don’t,” he assures, “all I ask is that you text me. Let me know you’re safe and behind locked doors.”
“Huh, yeah, I can do that,” you almost sigh in relief.
It’s weird. You dread being alone but you long for it. Your solace has always been by yourself. You just have to keep Colin out and you’re hoping that Ally will already have him distracted. You think back to the day before and how eager she was to get him to herself. Yeah, he doesn’t care that much about you. That’s what started this all.
“Well, I’ll see you at work.”
“See you at work,” he returns, his tone as lacklustre as you ever heard it.
You get out, a tug of guilt at the nape of your neck. You feel like you should say something else but you don’t know what. You let the door close softly as you step onto the pavement. You head up the walk, not looking back, too embarrassed to.
You let yourself into the building and pull out the new key from the locksmith. It’s shiny and silver with a yellow thread strung through the eyehole. You ease the front door closed behind you and listen to the building. It’s quiet, mostly.
You climb the stairs one by one and peek down the hall before you come up completely onto the second floor. There’s no one there and your door is as it should be. Locked tight and on the hinges.
You make your way down towards it, carefully to keep your keys from jingling. Your bag falls down your elbow as you wiggle the lock, the new key not catching right away. A click and slow grind jars you and as you look over, you nearly scream.
Colin appears from behind Ally’s door. Shirtless, in his usual grey sweats, looking casually sinister as he places a hand on the door frame. He snickers as he steps out. You turn back and fumble to twist the handle.
As the door opens, he’s on you. He closes you in as he catches the handle and pulls the door shut. You whimper and turn to face him, cowering as he sneers at you. You press yourself to the wood as he crowds you.
“Think you can run away with that pretty boy?” He taunts, “think I wouldn’t be waiting?”
“Colin, I– I’m sorry–” you gulp and look over, “Ally…”
“She’s off on another work trip. Kinda like you, huh? Hanging out with her boss off the clock. You must’ve had a lot of fun.”
“Look, whatever I did, it’s… there’s been a misunderstanding, alright? We’re friends. We were… I’m sorry I misinterpreted–”
“Honey, you are so stupid. I’m not done with you.”
“Please–” you beg.
“Get this. You were the perfect girl. You cooked, you did my laundry, you let me use your Netflix, that’s what every guy wants but you’re just not fuckable,” he scoffs, “well, my perspective changed on that. You know,” he leans in further and lowers his voice. “I didn’t picture myself balls deep until I saw you shaking in fear.”
“Get away,” you croak and push against his chest, “I’ll scream.”
A subtle click mutes his response as he opens his mouth but clenches his teeth. He tilts his head and listens. You hear the deep grumble of your downstairs neighbour, Curtis? You can’t remember, you never see him. He waits and pokes his tongue into his cheek.
“You fucking scream and I’ll remember. I’ll make sure when I fuck you that it splits you in half. So be a nice girl, like you always are, and let me in.”
“Please,” you reach to grip the key, trying to free it from the lock. You could jab him with it, get him off of you for long enough to get inside.
“If you wanna pretend I’m that preppy fuck, I don’t m–”
He jerks and nearly headbutts you as he bounces off the doorframe beside you. He cradles his face as he grunts and you gape at Jonathan as he squares his shoulders and steps up. How?
“You will back away,” Jonathan warns, “go back to your pathetic apartment and stay there.”
“Ah, not this douche–” Colin slips his hand down his cheek, revealing the split in the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, this douche,” Jonathan confirms, “I smelled it on you. I knew you were nothing but a weasel.”
“Whatever. She’s been begging me for it,” Colin spits, “you know, she sits there and pouts, watches me from across the hall, listens to me through the wall as I fuck girls hotter than she’ll ever be, wishing it was her–”
Jonathan moves so quickly, it leaves you stunned. The crack of his fist against Colin’s face makes you yipe and you quiver as you catch your voice in your hands. You keep flush to the door as your eyes wet.
“I do not like violence,” Jonathan says as he rubs his knuckles, “but I am not unfamiliar with it.”
“Fucker!” Colin bends over, drops of his blood landing on the floor.
“If you persist, I’m afraid I must as well.”
“Urgh,” Colin stands straight and spits onto the hardwood, “just wait…” he looks past Jonathan, “he can’t be here all the time.”
He turns and stomps away, keeping his hand on his jaw as he snorts and coughs. You stare after him, shaking in humiliation. It all happened so fast.
Jonathan waits until Colin’s door slams before he turns to you. He puts his hand on your shoulder and you flinch, “why didn’t you tell me it was him?”
You shake your head and stick your lip out.
“I should’ve guessed,” he tuts, “twisted man. Absolutely repuls–”
“How did you get in here?”
“A man let me in. Downstairs. Um, beard, very blue eyes,” he explains.
“Why?”
He gives half a smile, “ah, you left this in the front seat,” he holds up your lip balm, “I was trying to return it.”
“Oh,” you glance past him, frowning at Colin’s door.
“Darling, I know you are growing tired of me but I simply cannot leave you alone.”
“Yeah,” you nod numbly and turn to the door, jerking the key to the side, “I don’t wanna be alone.”
#colin shea#dark colin shea#dark!colin shea#colin shea x reader#jonathan pine#jonathan pine x reader#what's your number?#the night manager#crushed#series#fic#dark fic#dark!fic
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The Devil's Earthly Nightmares
Based on this post
Words: 720
Summary: Wake, who has a not-so-friendly rivalry with seagulls, tries to warn the others about the evil birds.
AO3
AU belongs to @ezdotjpg/@bonus-links, go check them out!
Reblogs > Likes!
Slate whirls around, retaining his place at the front of the group as he walks backwards and signs at the same time. ‘We’re getting close to Lurelin Village.’
A collective sigh of relief comes from the others. They’ve been hiking through Faron Woods for hours now, in all of its muggy, humid glory.
“How can you tell?” Loft asks as he rubs a mostly-dry cloth over his beetle to keep its wings from rusting.
‘I know my Hyrule like the back of my hand. Also,’ he points at the sky, where they can make out a few wheeling birds above the tropical trees. ‘There’s seagulls. They live by the sea so if you see some, you’re probably near the ocean.’
“Seagulls live wherever the hell they want,” Wake grumbles. “They could live in your house if they wanted to. You’re just lucky they don’t.” The group goes silent for a moment, and he realizes that he’s getting some weird looks. “Look, it’s true. Those beasts will be territorial wherever they please. Right now it just happens to be the ocean, so Slate’s right. I’d rather not get anywhere near seagulls but I’m willing to put up with them if I get to see the ocean again.”
‘Riiiight,’ Slate signs, drawing out the movements. ‘In any case, we should be leaving the jungle any minute now and then we’ll have a clear shot to Lurelin.’
Wake sighs, knowing that there will soon be no cover between them and the seagulls.
****
Mask is engaged in a full-on stare down with a small flock of seagulls. The birds are perched along the edge of the roof of Kiana’s house, beady eyes laser-focused on the hylians below. Most of the heroes pretend to ignore the seagulls, huddled around the cooking pot and hunched protectively over their plates of paella. Mask, however, continues to dance with danger. Spirit raises his hands and Mask looks away from the seagulls for a moment to see the other’s words.
‘All they want is your food,’ Spirit signs, then thoughtfully looks down at the shrimp on his plate. ‘Maybe they’ll leave us alone with we just give them some.’
“Absolutely not,” Wake says before they can act on that terrifyingly bad idea. “They’ll take a few fingers and your firstborn child if you let them. They’re not picky.”
One seagull lets out a keening cry that would almost sound pitiful to the untrained ear. The younger heroes look at Wake, horror plain on their faces. They look up at the seagulls, then back to Wake again.
“Don’t fall for their tricks is what I’m saying. And keep an eye on your food. They’ll steal it from clean under you once they realize you won’t give it up willingly,” the pirate warns.
They return to their dinner, extra cautious of airborne thieves.
****
Wake peeks through the blinds, shamelessly spying on the others from the safety of his inn room. Mage, Mini, and Mirror are gathered around one of the benches and watching the ocean sunset with a few… friends.
A seagull perches on Mage’s shoulder, nibbling on his dangly earrings. The man doesn’t seem bothered, instead reaching up to scratch its head with what could almost be described as a wistful expression. Mini sits cross-legged on the sandy grass, stroking a seagull that lounges catlike on his lap. Wake is pretty sure that the kid’s eyes are even larger than normal, hinting at gleeful awe. A third seagull stands a few arm-lengths away from Mirror and takes a step away every time he tries to scoot closer, hand outstretched in an attempt to placate the bird.
“Did you know that seagulls mate for life?” Mage says quietly, gently guiding his seagull away from his glasses. “Once they meet that special someone, they keep that connection forever.”
“Seagulls are incapable of love,” Wake hisses, louder than he meant to.
Mage raises an eyebrow.
Well. Wake started another rant, he might as well finish. “The only thing they are committed to is chaos. Do not trust them with your heart,” he says.
Mage nods sagely.
The seagull that Mirror has been pursuing suddenly looks up, directly at Wake. The pirate quickly ducks under the window, safely out of sight.
Wake can’t keep them all safe from the seagulls, but at least he knows better.
#bonus links#bonus wake#bonus slate#bonus loft#bonus mask#bonus spirit#bonus mage#bonus mini#bonus mirror#fable writes
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