#I keep staring at some of my drafts and going nope...

[callusedhand]

feeling a bit bummed lately, pls excuse selective replies

[norman-fucking-reedus]

GROWN UPS 💋 (18+)

summary: “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair”

era: pre-negan alexandria

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slightly submissive daryl x female reader (the juicy shit: unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, biting, choking, hair pulling, pet names (Darling, sugar, allthat), cunnalings, cumming untouched)

Disclaimer(s): This is not only my first tumblr post, this is my first x reader so forgive me if its bad </3

Considering that I am a black writer I want everyone to be included in the wonderous x reader experience which is why I have some drafts with neutral appearances and plus size so stay tuned if youre interested babe <3

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“Hold on there, big guy. Take your shoes off” A giggle rested on your lips as you watched Daryl huff and haphazardly toe his boots off, keeping his hands firm on your hips. As soon as his socked feet were on the ground, his lips landed back on top of yours, licking deep into your mouth.

He had been out on a run for what felt like weeks, even though it was only a few days. After dropping off his findings to Rick, he went straight to find you.

Daryl’s hands roamed and groped your body like a starved man, grunting and moaning into your mouth. He had you pinned right against the wall in the living room, pressing your bodies as closely together as he could.

He practically had you trapped there, holding you in place as his kiss-swollen lips began sucking and biting at your exposed throat, pulling breathy moans from your chest. One of his strong hands slid up your shirt to grab a handful of boob, which he squeezed through your lacey bra.

You so badly wanted to take this session upstairs where you know you’ll get your core guts rearranged, however for the past few days you’ve been having a small insecurity, and that was your recent lack of shaving.

Even though you are in the middle of an apocalypse and razors have become a lot more scarce, it still made you feel a little bad about yourself, considering you did have thicker hair down there. As these negative thoughts began to cloud your mind, you started to get turned off, absent mindedly humming under your boyfriend’s touch. You didn’t want him to think that you were gross.

He took note of this and withdrew his hand from under your shirt, and brought it up to your face, redirecting your focus onto his face. “Ya’ alright there, plum?” Part of you wanted to say yes, but your head was already shaking no. “I’m sorry it’s just…” His blue eyes stared into yours, patiently waiting for your response. “I haven’t been able to shave in a while” You mumbled, tearing your eyes away to try to ease your embarrassment.

After a few moments of silence, Daryl scoffed, as if he just processed that you were being serious. He stared at your face for what felt like forever until he finally tilted your head back to look at him, studying your face closely. “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair” His voice was raspy and dark as he spoke, and oh, how you loved yourself a bold man.

His words shot straight down your core and to your cunt, which had begun to throb again. With his words still fresh in your head, you pulled him by the collar up the stairs to your room, where you would get exactly what you wanted.

You swung your door open and slammed it shut, giggles and moans falling from your lips as Daryl scooped you up and dropped you onto the bed, ready to continue his earlier attacks on your body. This time around, he took your shirt completely off, frowning at your bra. “Quit pouting. Help get my pants off and I’ll undo my bra” You spoke as you readjusted yourself to grab at the hooks, while Daryl tore your pants off your long legs, hands immediately going for your underwear. “Nope. Your mouth is gonna be real busy tonight, since you’re such a man” Daryl smirked as he settled his hands obediently on your hips before he hooked his teeth onto the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, taking them out his mouth and stuffing them in his back pocket. “Fer later” He said as he looked at the amused look on your face. “I’m confused why you’re talking and not eating me out” Daryl licked his lips as he pulled your legs further apart, eyeing your hairy cunt for a bit longer than you’d like. He on the other hand was enjoying the amazing view.

He tightly gripped your hips and pulled them upwards, giving your clit a wet lick as he deeply inhaled your natural scent. It was so intoxicating to him as he really started to go down, licking and sucking at your clit. His spit trickled down and mixed with your slick, and he began to tease your fluttering hole with his finger. Your bottom lip was caught harshly between your teeth, as moans rumbled from your chest, some being a little higher than others. You moaned especially loud when two thick fingers began sliding in and out of you, curling into your sweet spot and scissoring open.

Daryl himself was painfully hard in his pants and had been working up to his own orgasm, as he literally couldn’t get enough of you. The feel of your skin under his burning palm, the taste of your wet cunt on his tongue, cheeks turning red from a combination of pleasure, and your pubic hair rubbing against him. It was so overwhelming for him, as his dick twitched harshly in his pants. Pathetically, he began to grind down on the mattress, groaning erotically against you as he did. Your plump thighs tightened around his head when his relentless attack on your clit became stronger, his tongue hardening up against the bundle of nerves. “Fuck my baby that feels so good” Your fingers tangled in his brown locks, tugging at his scalp in a way you knew he liked.

Little did you know your short tugs would throw him over the edge, body trembling roughly as his cock throbbed in its confinement, shooting ropes of cum in his boxers. His moans vibrated against you, and you could feel yourself nearing the edge, unaware of your boyfriend's situation. You had started to grind down on his tongue and fingers, legs tightening and shaking as you climbed to your peak, moaning lewdly when you tumbled over.

Daryl pulled off you, and his face was a wet deep red mess. His hair was disheveled and your eyes landed on the dark spot in the front of his jeans. “Would you like some help with that sweetheart? How pathetic that you came from only eating me out” You tugged him forward by his vest collar, which you prompted him to take off. Your hands moved to unbuckle his pants as he leaned down to kiss you, the taste of yourself still lingering heavy on his tongue. You tossed the belt onto the floor and yanked at his pants. “Are ya tha eager ta see me naked, darlin?” A smug smile landed on his face as he kicked the offending piece of fabric off, spoiled underwear following suit.

When your eyes landed on his thick cock, engorged tip looking just so damn sensitive, you nodded your head as your dark gaze stared into his. “Get on your back” You placed your hands on his shoulders as you rolled him over, straddling his strong hips and leaning over the bed to snatch his belt up. “Hands.” You snapped the leather in your hands, staring down into his core. Holy hell did he love it. He loved the feeling of you tightening his own belt around his wrists and pinning them above the headboard by wrapping the extra leather around a post. He was an absolute sight for only you.

Your mouth watered as you stared down at your man, who was on complete display for you to gawk at, as you ran a lean hand up his chest, capturing his lips in yours before slamming down onto his cock, high gasp coming from him as his swollen tip bumped your cervix suddenly. You were only getting started as you placed both hands on his chest, grinding your hips skillfully and bouncing steeply, pulling yourself back down when he was only halfway out.

It drove you both crazy, Daryl even more so as you kept saying dirty things to him in an alluring tone. He had a brief thought that you were some type of sex demon attempting to fuck his soul out, which it was definitely working.

Daryl couldn’t keep his head up to watch the pornographic way you were riding him, his hands had began to tug at their restraint.

“Does that feel good baby? I wish you would look at me so I can tell” He whimpered in response, eyes rolling back when you increased your pace. Your fingers traveled up into the front of his hair, which you tugged forward to raise his head. The action went straight to his dick. Your fingers trailed out his hair and down his face, back down his chest.

“Keep your eyes on me, my sweet. Do you feel good?” You tilted your head as you ground your hips down, his dick blissfully bumping your sweet spot. “S’ so good, please let me touch you, sugar, please?” His voice sounded weak and pathetic to his own ears, but it went straight to your cunt, a smile creeping on your lips. “Earn it. My poor legs are tired.” You cooed, making a pouty face at him as you rocked slowly back and forth. “Gonna pound ya’ from underneath, ‘mma make ya’ feel real good” His senseless babbling encited a moan from you, especially when he planted his feet on the bed and lifted his hips, immediately started a rough pace.

He was so desperate to fuck the shit out of you. As he panted heavily, watching intently as he quickly slid in and out of you. He had been so focused that he didn’t feel you undoing his restraints until his hands were guided to fat hips which he gripped tightly and flipped you onto your stomach, lifting your hips up before ramming back in, one hand going up the headboard to steady himself. Even with the position he had you in he still felt compelled to do what you say, deep whimpers falling each time his sensitive tip roughly bumped inside you.

From where his hand was on the headboard, it had began to slam into the wall at the same harsh pace as his hips, which he angled up to hit your sweet spot and slide that much deeper. Fuck, he was starting to become dizzy with pleasure. Your erotic moans filled his ear as he leaned down over you, burying his face in your neck to inhale your strong smell, somehow increasing his pace. “Daryl baby I’m so close… you make me feel so fucking good” You mumbled into the comforter, the hot sounds of your boyfriend’s breath and the banging headboard filling your ears. A calloused finger trailed down your stomach and rubbed your clit in quick circles, Daryl’s strained voice right in your ear. “Cum fer me, darlin’ please let me make you feel real good, fuck- please” You could tell he was much closer to the edge than you, his voice had raised by an octave, his strokes had gotten short yet stronger, and he was practically panting like a dog. You reached a hand back and yanked his hair harder than you intended, crashing your lips together. You felt your body shake as Daryl’s strokes had become sloppy as his second orgasm hit him like a fucking truck. It was so strong that he couldn’t help but pull away and release a harsh whine that burned in his chest. Your own release had you pulling Daryl back down for a kiss, harshly biting his bottom lip. His finger slowed to a stop on your overly sensitive clit.

When you pulled away, it felt like you couldn’t get enough oxygen, breathing heavily as Daryl rolled onto his back, groaning as he pulled his soft cock out. Your hips landed on the fluffy comforter and Daryl’s cum had started to leak out of you, heating your sweaty face a little more.

After a few minutes, you felt soft lips on your back and a warm towel between your legs, followed by Daryl climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over you, wrapping big arms around your lower back as he pulled you closer. Laughter rose from your chest as he peppered you with kisses. “Told ya’ ‘m a man” He mumbled sleepily, and you scoffed. “My big strong adult man” You kissed his chest, and he hummed, already falling asleep. In the back of your head, you made a mental note to check the damage that was done to the wall in the morning.

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A/N: this was way longer than i intended it to be but i hope y’all enjoyed!! <33

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[that-one-theater-kid]

Calling them “pretty boy”

Featuring! Albedo, Scaramouche, Kazuha,

Notes:MODERN AU! idk, might be ooc, old draft

| Albedo |

Last time you checked the clock it was 11:40 but now as your lover came in the door it was already 3:45.

You came out of your shared room quietly to be greet by Albedo who wasn’t expecting you to still be awake, he jumped a bit when he heard your voice “Finally my pretty boy’s back.”

You could tell the nickname flattered him by the pink hue on his ears “‘M sorry for keeping you up dear”

‘Dear’. He was the only one who could you that, and now you can finally claim a nickname for him ‘pretty boy’. Endearments only you two could call each other, small things no one can take from the both of you.

You slowly approached him by the door side “what took you so long pretty?” You asked him in a hushed voice “Not much really, I just had to finish some research that Lisa needed for the new section in the library, though I could’ve done it at home” ah yes Lisa planned for a new section the library and asked Albedo to do some pieces.

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked “Nope, I wanted to finish the papers early” you expected it so you strolled to the kitchen to heat up some food “it’s not healthy to be restricting bodily needs you know.” “I know, but Lisa seemed persistent that I submit them before the deadline so I had to.” Of course, Lisa was the type to rush things even if it didn’t need to be.

After albedo ate and washed up you both returned to your bedroom. It was always so hard for you to fall asleep sometimes so you sticked some glow in the dark star on your ceiling so you could stare at something pretty most of the time, but now you get to stare at your pretty lover.

| Scaramouche |

Dates with Scara were always so nice no matter where it was, whether it was going out or just a home date it always felt so special from the last.

Today you planned a movie date in your apartment, unfortunately rain had to sweep in. You got worried, wondering where your lover was, did he forget? Is he just running late? So many questions ran through your mind.

But your bubble was bursted after hearing continuous knocking and ringing from your door, only one person you knew knocked like that, your pretty boy, who was all soaking wet from the rain. “Yo loser, sorry I was late, got caught in the rain” he apologized, still standing outside the door “Are you gonna come in or do you want me to shut the door?” You replied jokingly “Shut up” he replied in a sarcastic manner. After drying him off and changing into some spare clothes you always had for him in your bedroom, finally getting to set up on your bed to get the date started.

“You wanna know something?” You asked while picking a movie to watch “No” he replied coldly, but the way he was snuggled in your chest said something else “Aw, is my pretty boy angry?” With the pet name slipping out your mouth his head darted up to look at yours, clearing caught off guard “Wha- No im not! Just.. nothing. Just tell me.” He laid his head back down the hide his flushed face, you could feel the heat on his face. You guys had a fun night for the most part, cuddling, talking, laughing together was enough, He was enough.

| Kazuha |

Quiet time together was a serene activity you both shared once in a while, Kazuha was writing while you were painting, painting him. It was a painting of him, it was a picture of him near a lake from one of your “adventures”. Although it felt like you couldn’t capture the true essence of his beauty, to him it was one of the most beautiful things he’d seen in his life. Well he wasn’t supposed to know that yet. He took a peek when you took a break, it wasn’t a big canvas but it was almost done though, he admired the scenery, the reflection in the water, everything was so.. captivating.

Although his viewing was interrupted when you walked back in, even if he was to awe struck to take his eyes of the painting, let alone to notice you came back. “Wait- you weren’t supposed to see that yet..” you said shyly, the surprise was ruined, it was supposed to be your 1 year anniversary gift, “Why this picture though?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity “well.. I just thought you looked pretty, thats all.” You answered, but it had a deeper meaning, that day was the first time he said “I love you”, the first time he kissed you.

“Really? You thought I’m pretty..?” He asked, pointing to himself “Of course I do, you’re my pretty boy after all” You admitted, seeing a faint blush on his face from your claim. “Yours? I like that” He kissed your cheek before laying his head on your shoulder, you set aside the canvas and other art materials in order to sit comfortably with him, it was quiet, warm, and serene. It was love.

Did you miss me?🤭🤭😋😋😝😝🫶🫶

[supercriminalbean]

Jail Bird.

Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader.

Okay so this is my first every fanfic, I’m not entirely happy with this but fuck it. It's been sitting in my drafts for 6 months so I’m now posting it. Um, enjoy. I hope Thank you. 

Do not repost this on other sites thank you.

Summary: Night out with Garcia goes south so what happens when you have to ring Hotch to pick you up from Jail one night. What could happen between you two.

Gender Netural reader, they/them pronouns.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, alcohol, assault, being drugged, jail, police assault, fighting, kissing. (If I forgot anything let me know)

Words: 2.9k 

“We really messed up this time, didn’t we (Y/n)” Penelope groans resting her head on your shoulder. You are both resting on the benches in the holding cell, your eyes scan around the room, there are five other people in the cells. Three drunk men asleep on the floor leaning against the walls and Two younger girls, leaning against each other on the benches opposite you, looking scared, cold and alone. Glancing down at Penelope, you see her left eye is starting to swell. Her hair she had up earlier, now a complete mess, along with her lipstick and mascara all smudge. Realisation hits that you must look similar if not worse.

“Yeah we fucked up, but the worst part is we now need someone to bail us out” Letting out a breathles sigh. Regret fills you up, letting your head drop onto hers, for some rest. You really fucked up this time, wondering to yourself why do you go out drinking tequila with this women. Your head is pounding, with the alcohol in your systems, the lights in here making it so much worse. 

“We can ring Derek, he will tease us but that's better than Emily's teasing” Garcia suggests, closing her eyes, exhausted.

“I wish we could, but he's in California doing a conference with Reid and Emily, remember?” You groan out.

“What about if we ring JJ?” Shaking your head in response, as you remember she's gone on holiday and with that, it only leaves you with two choices. 

“Nope, JJ went on a romantic weekend with Will.” Rubbing your hands over your face, sitting up straight.

“So that leaves us with…” She trails off, her eyes opening slowly.

“Yep” sighs “Hotch or Rossi” 

“We are screwed” Garcia goes quiet, coming to the same realisation as you.

“We still have a couple more hours before we are allowed to call anyone, Pen, try to get some rest, you are going to need it by the time we get out of here” Looking down at her head on your shoulders noticing her eyes are already closing. After a while her breathing evens out as she falls into a light sleep.  

A couple hours pass by slowly, as you get to watch the sun coming up through a small window across the room. Glancing at the clock, noticing that it is only  5:23am, giving you 7 minutes left until you can finally get a phone call, and hope to leave. Glancing down at Garcia, you see that she's now awake, and staring at the clock. Her left eye is still swollen and a bruise is slowly forming. Looking around the room, knowing that no one else has joined you throughout the night. The two girls across from you are finally asleep. During the night, you had given one of them your jacket to keep her warm, as she was starting to shake. Soon one of the police officers walks over, unlocking the cell and gestures to you and Garcia to stand up. 

“One of you two come here, you get the first call of the morning” He holds the cell door open.

Turning to Garica you speak quietly, your body filled with exhaustion and anxiety.

“Pen, you go, ring Rossi he's got a soft spot for you, and less likely to yell this early” 

She nods as she gets up and walks out quietly, just as nervous as you.

About ten minutes goes past, when she walks back in looking even more depressed than before, if that was even possible right now. Sitting down beside you she speaks, her voice sounding strained, from dehydration and stress.

“He didn't answer and they wouldn't let me ring anyone else” She rested her head against the wall.

“I really do not want to ring Hotch right now” Groaning with dread as you stand up. Your legs feel like jelly, being uneasy on your feet, moving slowly forward feeling light headed from the alcohol and the lack of sleep.

“Oi hurry up, i'm not holding this door open all day” Rolling your eyes at the officer as you walk out, following him to the phone. 

“You get two attempts to call, better hope they answer” The officer leans against the wall watching you, giving you an uneasy feeling.

“Right thanks” Sighing as you pick up the phone and punching in Hotch’s work number, knowing he's most likely to answer that one, rather than his personal. It rings five times, your heart is pounding as you fear he won’t answer, or worse that he will.

“Hello Hotchner '' His voice sounding heavy with sleep, 

“Um hey Hotch it’s me, (Y/n). I'm sorry to have to ring you but” Taking a quick breath, as your voice shakes with anxiety. 

“(Y/n)? Are you okay? Why are you ringing me so early on a saturday?” His voice filled with concern. You can't help but to imagine, his eyebrows narrowing in confusion.

“I messed up Hotch, I mean it, I  really really messed up. I need your help please?” Tears springing to your eyes, realising how bad the situation could have ended up being. 

“What happened, where are you?” His voice is groggy but starts to sound more awake. 

“Down at the police station, in the holding cells with Garica” Your voice trailing off, closing your eyes, waiting for his response. The other side of the line goes quiet for a short moment.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was soft but you could almost hear a harsh tone coming through. 

“Not really.. We had too much to drink, we got in a fight, we need someone to bail us out, please.” You sigh tiredly, hearing him huff angrily, 

“I will be there soon” is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead. 

“Hotch is on his way” You let out a long breath, sitting back down beside her. “I'm so sorry Penelope, I got us into this mess” Rubbing your hands over your face, something you do when you’re stressed.

“This is not your fault, you did what anyone would do, it's just your luck you would punch the wrong guy” She smiles gently, trying her best to make light of this situation. You can't help but smile weakly at her.

“I'm just sorry they got away and that you got hurt” Glancing at her black eye.

“You got hurt, more than I did, my eye hurts but I'll be okay, how are your ribs? They seem to punch you hard” Her voice filled with concern.

“Yeah they got a few good hits in, definitely going to bruise” Placing your hand gently on your side, wincing slightly. “You know Hotch is going to kill us right?” You smirk slightly.

“Oh he won't, you know we are his favourite in the team” Giggling slightly, she adds. “Plus we know Hotch can't stay mad at you for long” Rolling your eyes up at her remembering what she let slip last night, about a bet the team had.

The officer walks back over, unlocking the cell watching them.

“You two really do work for the FBI?” He questions. 

“Yep that's us” You slowly stood up, your body feeling even heavier than before.

“Huh, I thought that was, just drunk talking last night” 

Following the officer back out to the front, you see Hotch finishing signing off some paperwork at the front desk. Sending Garcia a quick nervous glance, as you look at Hotch, who has his disappointed boss face on.

“Let's go” He walks over to the door, holding it open for you both. 

As you three start walking out to his car. Your arms are folded across your chest, rubbing your arms gently trying to stay warm. You regret wearing shorts that only go halfway to your knees, and a low, thin top. It starts raining, the sky covered in stormy grey clouds. Garcia pulls her jacket tighter out herself, only wearing a thin dress, she looks like she is freezing as much as you. As you walk over, towards his car in complete silence. He shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, helping slide your arms in. He is standing extremely close to you as he opens the front passenger door of his car for you. You glance over at Garcia and see her smirking at you, raising your eyebrow at her in confusion. Wondering how she's finding this so amusing, as you get into the car.

“What the hell happened?” His eyes narrow as he starts driving.

“Um Garcia, want to take this one?” You look beggingly at her.

“No, (Y/n) you tell me. Now” his eyes glance at you, his face filled with anger.

“Okay look, it's not that bad, okay we did what we thought was right, with a few too many drinks in us” You try to reason.

“Oh a few to many drinks, really, because they said you punched a cop” 

Your hands run over your face feeling stressed. “I did do that, but that was an accident, I didn't know he was cop”

“Right and that makes it okay, you are a FBI agent (Y/L) you can not be getting into fights, and you can not be dragging Garcia into trouble as well”

“Sir can I just say something please” Garcia begins, Hotch goes quite watching her closely, in the rear facing mirror.

“It wasn't their fault, another guy started it, we were sitting at the bar, doing some shots, and this older guy, like he was older than you and he started flirting with some girls beside us, these girls who are barely of age they were clearly uncomfortable” Garcia talks quickly mumbling some of her words. She still seems a little bit drunk, and nervous trying to explain herself to her boss.

“Yeah so I was watching him, I thought maybe we might need to help them, but then I saw his friend on the other side of the girls slip something in one of their drinks, so I kind of pushed my way though the first guy to talk to the girls and told them what the other guy did” 

“Yeah he did not like that” You nod along with Garcia.

“So let me guess he got angry?” Hotch sighs, his face relaxing slightly.

“Oh extremely, next thing I knew I was being pushed to the ground, so I got up and we started fighting, I was soon fighting like three grown ass dudes, I was doing well until this guy grabbed me by the hair” 

“So I may have jumped on his back and pulled him down” Garcia adds “Then the Police turned up, and tried to break up the fight”

“I didn't see that, they were Cops, so I accidentally punched him in the face, and broke his nose, and then the other three guys got away” Slowly lifting your head up to look at Hotch. 

“Did you tell all this to the officers?” His voice softens, glancing at you, his expression is hard to read, before he's back looking at the road.

“We did, they said if it is true they won't press charges on me, so they are checking the cameras today” Hotch nods, listening, we go quiet. As we pull up outside Penelope place.

“Garcia” Hotch sighs slightly “Get some rest today, and I’ll see you at work tomorrow”

“Yes sir, thank you” she smiles as she goes to get out. 

“Wait, Garica, remember to ice your eye and get some cream on it” He adds, with a small smile.

She smiles “I will do that, thank you Sir” she closes the door and walks inside. 

As you both make the way back to your apartment, it's completely silent for the first few blocks.

“Are you going to say anything to me at all Aaron?” 

“What do you want me to say (Y/n), huh?, you ring me, 5:30 in the morning, to come get you and Garcia out of jail, after you cancelled our plans last night to go get drunk” Hotch snaps angrily.

“You said you were okay with us changing our plans, seeing as Jack had a sleep over any way I figure movie night was cancelled, it is just a movie Aaron” Snapping slightly, closing your eyes tired

“This isn't about the movie, this is about you drinking too much.”

“Me drinking to much?, Hotch, I had a couple to many, yes, but this was not my fault, I wasn't going to let those girls get drugged and who knows what else, we see what can happen to girls like that everyday, there was no way we were going to let that happen” You argue loudly.

“You could of gone a different way, keep those girls safe, and yourself”

“I am fine Hotchner and so are those girl”

“NO (Y/L) You are not fine, you have blood on your face, and bruises going down your arms, and you smell like a nightclub” He parks his car outside your apartment building.  You turn to him surprised.

“Did you just (Y/L) me?

“You Hotchner me” he crosses his arms, you huff as you undo your seatbelt and open your door.

“See you at work Aaron” Getting out of the car, slamming the door closed. Hotch gets out and walks towards you. “What are you doing Aaron?”

“I am walking you inside, this conversation is not over” 

“Whatever” Rolling your eyes, again. You two make your way inside and up 4 flights of stairs and finally, unlocking your door after a long night. All you really want to do is have a shower, but first you have to deal with whatever lecture Aaron wants to give you.

Walking inside you head straight over to the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on, Aaron following behind you closely, watching you silently. 

“I know I'm great to watch but can you stop going silent. It's really annoying.” You look up at him. Instead of answering he walks away into the bathroom, walking back out holding a cloth. 

“Take my jacket off and sit. '' He stands by the table and pulls out a seat at the table for you. Sighing as you pull his jacket off as you make your way to him, placing it on the table before taking a seat. One of his hands reached up to your face gently holding your chin, keeping you in place.

“Aaron I can clean myself up” Your words come out quietly, exhausted.

“Do not try and argue with me agent” A smirk plays into his voice. Gently he cleans the dried blood and dirt off your face, wincing slightly as he cleans the blood off your bottom lip. 

You can’t tell if it's the alcohol still in your system, or if you're just so sleep deprived. But you can't stop staring at his face seeing how handsome he looks when he's concentrating. How the brown in his eyes seems golden in the lighting. Your check starts burning as you realise how close you are to him, and how all you want to do is melt into his arms as he holds you close. 

His hands move slowly and gently, washing the blood and dirt off your skin. You watch his hand move, biting your lips as you stare at them. What you say next to him, you want to blame the alcohol. 

“Hey Aaron, did you know the team has a betting pool on us?”

He looks up a little confused, a smirk on his beautiful lips. “They do?”

“Yeah Pen told me last night that they all think we are secretly dating, and that's why we are always watching movies, or why I'm over at your place teaching Jack how to bake.” You laugh slightly.

“Huh, they really think we are dating?” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“It's not the worst idea in the world”  Biting your lip looking him in the eyes. 

“Well I mean I am your boss, that would be highly inappropriate” He smirks, shaking his head slightly. 

“Maybe, but I think inappropriate went out the window after we started cuddling on the couch watching movies with your son.” Your words come out slowly, watching for his reaction. He smiles softly, his eyes filling with hope and love, he looks up at you, placing the cloth down.

“You know, both of us are profilers, yet we are so oblivious aren't we” You blush softly as he takes your hand.

“We are, Dave keeps calling me an idiot for not telling you how I feel” You can’t help but laugh along with him. 

“We really are idiots, aren't we Hotchner” Biting your lip softly, leaning closer to him.

“That we are” He smirks. “I think I'm supposed to ask you on a date now?” Shaking your head, a laugh still on your lips.

“I'm pretty sure we have been on plenty of dates, we just never realised” You tease as he leans forward.

“That means I can do this then” He chuckles softly as he closes the gap between them, his lips capturing yours softly. His arms coming up wrapping around your body pulling you close you can’t help but melt into his touch.

[mysticdoodlez]

interlude: MADE BREATH and SKIN

Watcher Noah Sebastian x oc (Taylor)

Word Count: 2.7k+

A/n: so up to around chapter six, I was up in the air over whether Taylor would a) start a relationship, and b) go with Nick or Noah. The interlude was bare bones until Taylor made up their mind, but I always had in my drafts a version where they went with Noah. Some talks on the discord happened and I just went "fuck it we ball" and I expanded the draft to a full-blown one-shot. Also: I KNOW ANTLERS AREN'T SENSITIVE LIKE THAT, BUT HE'S A DEER GOD. THE RULES DON'T APPLY TO HIM.

In other news, I tried to write without limitations like last time, cuz non-binary folk who are okay with their body parts and being called "good AGAB" exist out there too, people! So, if mentions of female body parts or female terminology shuts you down, then this won't be for you.

Cw: language, supernatural themes, sexy stuff: oral (oc receiving), slight monster fucking (monster, demi-deity, whatev), pet play if you squint, unwrapped p in v (be safe, kiddos), telepathic dirty-talk

“I don't need to be babysat. Like they're gonna try to break into my house and kidnap me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well, too bad. Like I have anything better to do than babysit you,” Noah said, shedding his leather jacket he had over his hoodie. I could hear the playful undertone in his voice, thankfully. And to be honest, I was kind of glad he was here.

“Need help?” I commented as he pulled his hoodie up.

“Nope,” he said, lifting it up above his head. I mainly watched just to see how he could manage to get it over the antlers that were sprouting from the sides of his head, but I would be lying if I said I didn't sneak a peek at the part of his stomach as his shirt rode up. “Jeez, do you have to keep this place like a sauna in here?”

“It's not even seventy degrees in here,” I said, trying to avoid staring too long after he managed to get the hoodie off, but I still couldn’t get over the fact that he was actually that… big under all that clothing. He was now down to just a cut-off tank, leaving all the binding sigils that ran up and down his arms and across his collarbones and shoulders on display. Honestly, combined with the muscles, it made me want to punch him.

But still, after a while, my eyes were drawn back up to the antlers. While not as wide and impressive as the last time I saw them, they still seemed to make him seem taller and bigger than he already was.

“My eyes are down here.”

His words snapped me out of my reverie before he flipped down onto the couch beside me. “What're we watching?” he asked. When I looked down into his eyes, with his face drawn up into a smirk, I was almost taken aback when I noticed the smattering of freckles under them. The Lost Boy Who Would Become King.

“Does it hurt?” I blurted out.

“Does what hurt?” Noah asked.

“The antlers… when they grow out. Do they hurt?” I clarified, curiosity getting the better of me.

He blinked. “N-no?” he replied awkwardly, like no one had bothered to ask that question of him before. “Mostly they’re just sensitive until they reach their full point. Kinda itchy, too.” His thigh bumped against mine.

“Has anyone touched them?” I asked.

“No, usually people are too busy screaming ‘Ah, don’t kill me’ if I get—“ I cut him off with a backhand to the chest. “What? It's true!”

“I meant like Nick and the others,” I huffed, leaning back.

“Nah, they're not stupid enough to–” Noah said, but then stopped dead when I pressed my thumb against one of the points.

“Shit, I’m sorry, did I hurt—“ I stammered, pulling my hand away until I noticed his eyes. They seemed to pin me to where I was sitting.

“No, you’re fine, it's just…” Noah swallowed thickly, “I didn’t expect it to feel like… that.”

“Like wha…?” I trailed off as I realized what he meant. Oh.

My hand, which was still hovering near his head, fell back down to his antlers. Curiosity getting the better of me, I traced a light line from where they met his skull up to one of the first points. He shuddered under my touch, a small moan slipping out.

“Stop that,” he gritted out.

“Stop what?” I asked. I meant for it to be an honest question, but I didn't think he took it to be like that. Especially when his hand shot up and snatched my wrist away from his head.

“Stop teasing,” he said with a low rumble, dipping his head down to where he was eye level with me. My heart stopped when I saw how dark his eyes were.

I felt his other hand snake around my waist, pulling me closer to him. As ironic as the comparison was, I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. “Is that why you asked about them? So you could see me like this?” he asked. I was practically on his lap at this point, my knees straddling his thighs. He dipped his head lower to nuzzle his lips against my jaw.

The movement snapped me out of my paralysis, and I finally found my voice. “Aww, is Bambi sensitive?” I cooed, reaching my free hand up to run a finger up his antlers again. He shuddered against me, breath panting and ragged, and I froze up again when I felt his dick begin to harden underneath my core.

“I said watch it,“ he growled, grabbing that hand as well. “Do you like being a tease? Touching me like that?” He pushed me onto my back, pinning my wrists to the armrest above my head. He easily was able to hold both of them with one hand, those long fingers wrapping around them as he freed a hand to roughly grab my jaw. “Touch me again, and I’ll build you up to just leave you here wet and needy.”

My eyes widened a little bit as I took in what he said. “No—“ He cut me off with a small squeeze. The little puffs of breath he let out ghosted over my ear, making me shudder in his hands. When he finally let go of my jaw, it was to only run it over the hollow of my throat and stop. He leaned down, his lips leaving light but wet kisses along my neck.

A soft whimper escaped my throat, and my legs squirmed under his. He chuckled, my only warning before he bit down on the sensitive flesh between my neck and shoulder. A sharp gasp left me, which turned into a moan when his teeth retracted to let his tongue sweep over the mark.

“I want everyone to know what’s mine, little rabbit,” he whispered. “I want them to know that you belong to the Watcher of the Woods.”

The possessive tone he used slightly pissed me off, but as he alternated between biting and soothing at my tender skin, I could barely care. That's when I realized, despite my fogged-up brain, my mouth was close to the base of his antlers. So between keening, I let out a breathy moan that I knew would hit them.

His reaction was instantaneous. He let out a loud moan against my wet skin, hips involuntarily shunting forward against mine. The straining in his jeans pressed against my covered core, earning a sharp inhale from me. I didn't know how dizzier I could get.

Noah pulled away to look me in the eyes. “Seriously, Taylor, if you want–”

“Noah, I want you, monster or not,” I panted.

For once, Noah was stunned into silence. He hovered over me, jaw slightly dropped as he took in my words. He then brought his lips down to lock with mine in a messy, heated kiss.

There was no gentleness in this kiss, and I didn't expect any. This was a man starved. He finally let go of my wrists and trailed his hands down my chest, my waist, to my hips, then trailed them back up, under my shirt this time.

His thumbs ran small, feather-light circles around my nipples. “No bra?” he asked, smirking against my lips.

“Never wear one,” I admitted.

“Good. Off,” he commanded. “I wanna look at you.” He pulled away to give me space.

Somehow I knew what he was talking about through the sex-addled white noise, and I lifted my shirt up and over my head. I flushed under his gaze that slowly raked over my body.

“I could absolutely devour you,” he admitted, leaning back down, lower this time. He ran his tongue up my sternum, up the small slope of one breast, and closed his mouth around my nipple. I keened and squirmed as he flicked the tip of his tongue over the hard peak, feeling helpless as he teased the other between his thumb and fingers.

Eventually, after both tits were given enough attention, he pulled off with a soft pop, biting into what flesh there was. He left little nips as he trailed down my tummy until he finally reached the waistband of my jeans.

“N-Noah…” I whimpered, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah…?” His eyes flicked up to mine as I gazed down my body at him.

“Please… not here,” I pleaded.

He blinked, his dark brown eyes darkening further. “You don't want me to fuck you on the couch?” he asked.

“P-please n-no.”

Suddenly, with supernatural strength, he hitched my waist over his shoulder, pulling up and taking me with him. I let out a small yelp of surprise, but soon he was taking me back to my bedroom. My world was just an upside- down view of the back of his top and ass. If I could just manage to get my arm up, I could just–

Before I could smack anything, he roughly tossed me onto the bed. He crawled up between my legs, undoing the button and zipper of my jeans. I wriggled my hips as he pulled my jeans and underwear down in one fast motion. With a groan, and without tearing his gaze from between my legs, he carelessly tossed the garments somewhere on the floor. “Fucking hell, you've been wet this whole time, haven't you?” he asked, leaning down.

“Noah–”

“Are you okay with this?” Noah asked. I stared at him in surprise, and he rolled his eyes. “I might be a monster, but I'm not that kind of a monster.”

“Fuck, of course Noah. Just fucking–” My tirade was cut off as he dove down like it was his last meal. My hips lifted off the bed in surprise, and he lifted my legs over his shoulders, wrapping his hands around my thighs and pulling them down against him.

I couldn't think of anything past the feeling of his tongue flicking over and around my clit, spearing into my pussy and then flattening as he licked long stripes up and down my slit. All I could do was grab the top of his head, tangling my fingers in his long tresses as I tried to keep myself grounded.

“Oh, God, No… ah–” was all I could manage to get out as I shook like someone possessed. His fingers dug into my thighs, the pain of his nails pressing in only adding to the pleasure. It felt like the more I reacted to him like this, the harder he worked to make me feel good.

I looked down at him to see that he was already intently staring at me. Somehow his dark eyes seemed to be bright when they met mine. I felt him smirk against my lower lips and then I heard,

YOU TASTE SO FUCKING GOOD.

Speaking into my head, hearing that praise, sent a bolt of pleasure through me that had me arching, releasing onto his tongue as I swore up to the ceiling. He lapped it up, not relaxing his movements one bit, and the overstimulation carried me into my second orgasm, my scream tearing through my throat.

THERE IT IS. THAT’S IT, GIVE IT TO ME.

He slowed down, kitten-licking me through my aftershocks, and then finally pulled away, settling me back down onto my bed. “You good?” He asked, like he didn't just completely shatter me.

Through ragged breaths that hurt my throat and my swimming vision, I nodded. Dear God, that was–

“He's not here, and by the end of tonight, I'll have you screaming my name like you worship me.” His growl sent ripples throughout my body. Noah crawled up on top of me, caging my face between his hands, and kissed me roughly. I could smell and taste myself on his lips.

“Noah, please I need you,” I managed to say between fervent kisses.

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“Noah.”

“Louder.”

“Noah–”

“Pray for me.”

“Please, Noah.”

When I opened my eyes, it was him shoving his jeans off, but what made me gasp was the sight of his antlers, now the crown of bone that I remembered. With his hair wild and tangled from my fingers, and the tattoos spread all across his now naked body, he truly looked like the forest god he was.

He perched over me, leaning down to kiss me hard enough to stoke the fire in my belly again, and trailed two fingers up and down my still-slick folds. He slowly pushed them into my hole, alternating between curling, scissoring, and pulling them out before repeating the cycle. I was a moaning, whimpering mess that could barely talk when I realized that he was lining himself up.

“N-Noah, f-fuck… please,” I near sobbed.

“Shhh, I've got you,” he said quietly, gently brushing some damp hairs off my forehead. He then slowly, tortuously, pushed in, making me cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Ohh god, Noah, a-ah!” I said. “'s n-not gonna f-fit.”

“Yes it will,” he rasped. I was so glad that he too was having a rough time handling me like I was handling him. “I know you can do it.” He then pulled my legs up and hitched them around his waist, nearly folding me in half. With a few more shallow thrusts, he finally bottomed out, hitting a spot in me that turned my moans to something primal.

“There we go, good job. I told you you could do it,” he muttered, kissing the bridge of my nose. The feeling of me clenching on his cock had him groan, a sound that seemed like it came from somewhere deep inside him. “You ready?”

“Y-yes, Noah.”

His pace was steady at first, torturously slow. I rolled my hips to meet his, and his hands flew down to them to encourage the movement. “Go on… Take what you need,” he said, voice hitching at the end. I reached up to wrap my arms around his wide back, feeling the muscles flexing underneath my hands. His forehead dropped to mine and our lips brushed together in unison.

FUCK, IT’S LIKE YOU WERE MADE FOR ME,

he said, a hand reaching up to cup my cheek, tilting my face so our lips could finally press against each others,

MY LITTLE RABBIT.

Noah, I’m gonna - I’m gonna… I was desperately close, and his pace just kept getting hastier. I knew I was about to topple over the edge, and Noah was going to push me over with no remorse.

LET GO,

he said,

I’M RIGHT BEHIND YOU.

When I opened my eyes, I saw his big doe eyes focused on me. I couldn’t hold it anymore, and I screamed his name as my head rolled back against my pillow. I swore I nearly blacked out, or at least the edges of my vision turned black, as my vision blurred. I felt my sweat-slick skin press against his as my back arched completely off the bed.

Noah chased his own release a little bit later, thrusting into me while growling something that might’ve been words in the other tongue, or just gibberish. Soon after, his hips stilled, and his body sagged onto me, the weight and warmth being welcome.

We lied there, chests heaving as we tried to catch our breath, and I found myself gently scratching at his scalp. My fingers gently brushed against the base of his antlers, and I stilled.

“You’re fine, I can’t feel anything when they’re fully grown,” Noah muttered against the skin of my neck.

“You know that, but not when they’re forming?” I asked.

“Like I said earlier, it never came up.” He chuckled airily.

We stayed like that for a while, his body like an anxiety blanket, until my body decided I needed to get up. Noah thought otherwise, as he wrapped his arms around my midsection and pulled me back against him every time I tried to leave the bed.

“Lemme up, I have to go to the bathroom and take a shower.”

“Only if I get to join you,” he said with a sly grin.

“Those things aren’t gonna fit in the shower,” I said with a momentary glance up at the antlers.

“Oh, I’ll make them fit.”

“…Gross.”

[floofanflurr]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @sneakyfox55! I don't normally do tag games, but this one looks really fun. (What author doesn't want the chance to ramble about their writing?) (This one is also copy/paste, so I'm less worried about clogging up people's dashes)

I'm going to put it under a cut since this is pretty long!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

As of now? 9! (But I have more than 35 fics in progress in my drafts that aren't posted.)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

129,647! But like, triple that (or more) if you want to count unposted stuff.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Undertale!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Heart on the Table

2. How to Defeat a Human in 6 Easy Steps

3. faux pas

4. How to Comfort a Panicking Child

5. How to Help a Human in 2 Easy Steps

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes!!! I love responding!!! I'm behind horribly right now because of my work's busy season, but I plan to catch back up! It's so fun to get to talk to people about the things I've poured my heart and soul into, you know? And I'm always glad to get to thank the people that took the time to leave a comment! It's a bit hard to keep up sometimes, though.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

"Is it Home Without You?" definitely. I'm still really proud of that fic, and it's part of a series with a happy ending, but the actual oneshot is the immediate aftermath of Gaster's lab accident from Sans's PoV. So, uh. Dead dad that no one but you remembers (not even your little brother) is pretty angsty. It's a step away from the norm for me, since normally I only write things with happy endings. But since this is part of a series that has a happy ending, I suppose my brain allowed me to end it off on a bittersweet (sad and angsty) note.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This is really hard to say! I like big, happy endings, so most of my stuff gets them! Probably.... Hmmm. Either faux paus or How to Defeat a Human in 6 Easy Steps

8. Do you get hate on fics?

For the most part? No. (And I will always be grateful for the kind people that have picked me back up after I've been shot down in the past.)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

None you'll ever find under this username! I try to keep it family friendly here. ...Welllll, depending on if you count fics that tackle trauma and child murder in them family friendly.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't written any cross fandom crossovers! ...I have, however, been guilty of writing cross fic crossovers (none posted). I like to make my characters from different fics interact with each other. I've also done some crossovers for fun with my friends, making our characters interact. All still Undertale fandom, though! The craziest one is probably "How to Adopt an Interdimensional Traveler" which may be posted at some point. It's a crossover between Heart on the Table, and my How To: series. What, you're telling me Papyrus has TWO children to deal with now? (Here, have the first little bit of that because I love it. And I love Papyrus.)

Step One: Find out their name “FRISK!” Papyrus’s voice was not a shriek. No. He was perfectly composed as he stared down at the… little Frisk in front of him.  The very little Frisk. There was a familiar thumping behind him as… his Frisk crashed down the stairs in their familiar clumsy way. For all the elegance they displayed in battle, that did not tend to follow them home. He partially whirled around to face them, keeping… mini Frisk in his sight at the same time.  “What’s up, Dad?” Mini Frisk made a small noise that may have been confusion as they rapidly looked between him and their larger counterpart. “…Dad?” Oh.  Hm.  Yes.  That was. A thing. Apparently Papyrus had two children now. 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know! And I sure hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! That would be cool as heck, though!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

None that are posted! But I like to write with my friends, sometimes.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Surprisingly! Not Undertale! (Though I do like Alphyne!) Zukka! (Zuko x Sokka, Avatar the Last Airbender) I've loved that ship for years, and even though I'm not really in the AtLA fandom anymore, it still has a very close place in my heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hmmmm. Again, nothing posted. I don't post fics unless they have a first draft completely written to prevent that kind of thing. (Though, I do rewrite stuff, and that can cause pretty big posting delays. But if for some reason I can't find the motivation to finish my rewrites, I could always just slap my first draft up so that it's not completely unfinished before I'd abandon it completely.) Of my fics not posted, though? I've got a fic called "Ghost of You" which is a fated soulmate dusttale!papyrusXreader fic. I hope I can finish it one day, but... well. I'm not sure if I will or not.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization, and internal dialogue, I think! I like to think I'm pretty good at writing a character in such a way that even if you pick just a sentence at random, you know who's head you're in. Or, perhaps my strength is hurt/comfort in general...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

It used to be dialogue, though I'm working to get better at that! I also struggle sometimes when it comes to making sure that the pace is engaging and that we aren't just stuck in someone's internal thoughts for 5 paragraphs. Gotta break that up with some stuff actually happening!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Very cool, and a great way to show characters that speak other languages than the one you are in the PoV of!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Well... the fic itself is long gone, but! I wrote for Ouran Highschool Host Club when I was like 12.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE! HOW COULD YOU ASK ME TO CHOOSE BETWEEN MY CHILDREN? MY BABIES! ...Heart on the Table has a special place in my heart though.

No pressure tags (only if you want! this is just for fun!): @lizavet @timeofjuly @humankk and anyone that wants to!

Also... Shall I dare? invoke the potential wrath of a god(ess)?

I dare. I'm curious about the answers (if the goddess does deign to answer this mortal/jk) @llamagoddessofficial (please feel free to just ignore if you want!)

[elfqueen006]

Practical Magic - Twisted Wonderland draft

---

A/N: Started this back in May. The story is still in progress but this is a rejected draft that might only come back as a later scene rather than the first chapter like it was intended.

---

"You got something to say to me?!"

Oh lord, not again.

"Say it to my face then!"

The telltale sound of Grim's flagrant ranting could be heard around the corner, and you were quick to find the source. You find him standing before the housewarden of Savanaclaw - Leona Kingscholar. Alongside him stood his lackey, Ruggie Bucchi, as well as a few other Savanaclaw residents. A hot-headed cat against an arrogant lion... not the best combination.

"Out of the way you glorified housecat." Leona sneered.

"Not until you apologize for stepping on my tail! " Grim hissed.

"You should've watched where you were going. And can't you fly? What were you doing on the ground anyway?"

"That's not none of your business!" The magic cat then raised his paws, "Apologize now or face my wrath!"

Leona was already revving up a jinx. Ruggie shook his head with a snicker, "He's so dead."

Alright that was enough. You needed to stop your "familiar's" posturing before things got out of hand. Stepping out of the shadows, you retrieved your special candle from your book bag and wound a strand of thread around it continuously while reciting a mantra.

"I bind you Grim from doing harm

I bind you from doing harm to yourself and others"

Grim let loose a battle cry (or rather a yowl) as he summoned his flames. But all that came were small licks of fire in the corners of his vicinity. He furrowed his brows, looking around him.

"I mean- uh- NYAH! "

He cried out once more to call upon his power but the rose as soon as they fell.

"Eh? What is this?!" Grim cried.

"That's enough out of you." You said, snatching Grim up by the scruff. He yowled and flailed around in your grasp, claws out and trying to scratch you, but you held him at arms length.

Leona narrowed his eyes at you, "Herbivore."

You glance at him and quirk a brow, "Leona."

"Nyack! Lemme go, human! I gotta find out what's wrong with my powers so I can teach these upstarts a lesson!" Grim said.

"I took your powers, Grim, you can have them back when you start behaving; I'm sick of cleaning up the aftermath of your messes!"

Savanaclaw, as well as some passerby within the hallway started staring at you incredulous.

"Hooold up, hold up, hold up!" Ruggie waved his hands before taking up your side and leaning in, looking between you and Grim.

"You're the Ramshackle prefect, aren't you?" He asked. You nod slowly.

"Headmaster said that you didn't have any magic in ya."

"He's not wrong..."

"And yet you still managed to take the powers of this little weasel here?"

"Hey!" Grim shouted. You ignore him and hold him under the pit of your arm.

"It's more like I stalled them away for a bit. I don't usually have to keep him binded for long."

He grins fiendishly and rests a surprisingly firm hand on your shoulder. "That so? You been holding out on us then?"

"Nope, I'm still very much non-magical."

The Savanaclaw students stood peering inquisitively at conversation before them, with Leona looking more invested in the matter than he did at any class lecture.

"Oh come on, prefect! We're friends right? Friends share secrets, and then we all have a good laugh about it! Come on, laugh with me !"

At once you lost control of your limbs, moving your arms in tune with Ruggie's own movements as he made a motion to have you reach inside your bag and pull out a large book and pass it to him.

"A grimoire, huh? An old one too. I don't see many people carry these around anymore. You must be old school, huh?" Ruggie inquired with his signature snicker. You try to snatch it back from him but he teleports by his housewarden's side. With you distracted, Grim had fallen from your grasp and scurried off somewhere.

Thankfully though, your binding spell had been pocketed safely, so you didn't have to worry about him wreaking havoc elsewhere at least.

Ruggie holds the book open for his "boss" and the other students to read.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Leona said, "Almost everyone uses a grimoire."

"Yeah, but this is like, ancient. Oldheads use this type of thing." Ruggie explains.

You try to run around snatch the book back but the well-built Savanaclaw students just about formed a barricade trying to get a peek at your book. Some of them seemed genuinely interested while others indirectly heckled you for being so out of touch.

"I think my gran uses something like this!"

"Sam said he has one from his mother's side."

"I know they're from another world but surely they have something known as 'the internet'?"

Sick of hearing their drivel, you crawl under the crowd, squeezing between their obscenely impressive calves and trunk like legs so you could reach up and snag the book from Ruggie's grasp.

You clutched the grimoire to your chest, breathing heavily. You then turn to the hyena beastman and point a foreboding finger at him. "I'm gonna get you for that."

He clutches his chest and mock winces.

Leona pushed his locs over his shoulder. "So you're a practitioner?" He asked casually.

You blinked at him. He knew?

"Don't look so surprised." He said.

You couldn't not be. Leona was already a hard book to read. He was smart, that much you could tell. But he rarely showed any dedication to any of his classes or anything that didn't concern Spell Drive practice. So of course it'd grab you out of the blue to find out that he knew about practitioners.

Practitioners were traditional witches and warlocks who depended on the energy of the universe, spoils of the earth, and their gods to make magic.

One couldn't exactly pinpoint when people became channelers - sorcerers that were naturally able to produce magic from their bodies - but some have reason to believe it was bestowed upon them by the same gods they worshipped in the dark years.

"Y-yeah," You finally reply, "What of it?"

[siriuslysatorusimping]

what does gojo feels whenever he woke up with her beside him? and does she have her own closet in his house or she just wears his clothes when she sleepover?

AHHHHHHHH

THIS IS FROM TWO MONTHS AGO.

IT'S BEEN IN MY DRAFTS AND I'M SORRRY.

AHHHHHHHHHHH I'M FINALLY GONNA ANSWER IT

okay so this question was asked before Shibuya, therefore I will answer it with that in mind.

I will also provide an answer for what he felt when he woke up next to her in All That I Am Is Yours to make up for my tardiness 😬

It is BELOW THE CUT!!!! 😊

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3 💕

Pre-Shibuya Gojo

Pre-Shibuya Gojo was excited when he woke up next to Rinko. A little giddy, a little hopeful. Kinda wondering if he should nix his plan for telling her and just tell her he loved her. He was still kinda scheming.

So, if we think about the the morning of Shibuya, when he told her it was a lazy day in bed, just think literal idiot in love.

He woke up with her snuggled against his chest, her hair all wild, probably some drool, and he looked down and just felt it in his soul that he was gonna tell her that evening that he was in love with her.

Then, as he waited for her to wake up, he started planning. He was gonna tease her a bit by being a dramatic lil dumbass and make her think that because he'd done something like that before for dumb shit, it likely wasn't important. So he knew she'd think he was just being dumb. He was gonna buy her some Thai food and bring her back to his place and make her cum to make her more susceptible, and then he was gonna tell her he was in love with her and then dodge her knives when she inevitably tried to stab him because she didn't believe him. 😂😂😂😂

As for if she had her own closet at his place:

Nope! She just stole his clothes whenever she stayed over 😂 Or, if she knew she was going to be there for a while, she would bring a bag. So up until now, she's essentially been living out of a duffle bag. But she would still steal his clothes to sleep in and obviously she stole all of his sweaters 😂

All That I Am Is Yours- forward

Now? He's just so fucking happy when he wakes up next to her. He has the love of his life who knows he's in love with her by his side. Better yet? She loves him back.

He's relieved. So relieved when he wakes up next to her.

Because now they can start the rest of their lives. She's still recovering, but she's alive. And she's healthy. And she's safe. And he just wants to let her know even more how much he loves her. He didn't get a chance to really talk to her after she woke up initially because Shoko was doing checks and then she passed out as soon as they got back to his condo, so now he has time to talk to her and tell her he loves her and thank her for loving him. And to tell her that she was the only reason he truly wanted to keep living. That without her, he had no reason to live through Sukuna.

So, when he woke up that morning with her sleeping like the dead next to him because her soul was still regenerating, he just decided, "Fuck it, I'm waking her up and asking her to marry me. She can go back to sleep after she says 'yes.'"

He then proceeded to think of how he was going to ask her without her thinking she was dreaming, so he decided he was gonna have to ask something stupid first. And he also tried to think of all the ways he could act completely ridiculous to make sure she thought he was just being an idiot. Because he knew she'd be irritated at being woken up and he also knew that she was going to think he was dumb 😂

And then he woke her up and felt his heart soar at seeing her irritated, sleepy eyes staring up at him, still filled with love, and he felt it again in his entire soul that he loved her more than anything in the world and wanted to spend forever with her.

So then he acted like the dumb lil horny boi we know and love and did exactly as he planned and then proceeded to remember his breeding kink for a moment near the end 😂😂😂😂😂

-

I HOPE THIS MAKES UP FOR TAKING LITERALLY TWO MONTHS TO ANSWER??? 😬💕💕💕💕

[medusapelagia]

12 AU-gust: Bookstore

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: no one WC: 1351

Since the first time Eddie read “Tales of the Upside Down ” he wanted to invite the author, James Le Blanche, to his little bookshop to present his books, but the man was unreachable.

He had no social media, no personal manager, no website, nothing. 

And now he has declared that his next book is going to be the last one, so he will never have the opportunity to meet him.

Shit!

He is so desperately in love with that man! He is a fucking genius! And knowing that he will never have the opportunity to meet him, breaks his earth.

“Why are you pouting?” Dustin asks when he gets to the shop.

“Dustin this is not a library! This is a shop! How many times should I tell you?” He sighs when he sees the curly-haired boy entering.

“Come on!!! I’m the only loyal customer that you have!”

“Nope! To be a customer you should be paying for the books, not simply read them!”

He always scolds him but he is actually really glad that he is there keeping him company.

His uncle told him that none buys books anymore, but books saved his life when he was a sad little boy in Hawkins, Indiana, so he wanted to give others the same opportunity. Little did he know that to run a business you must actually make some money.

“In any case, I’m not pouting. I’m just sad because my favorite author has published his last book and I never managed to ask him to come to the shop for a presentation.”

“I thought that your favorite author was Tolkien. And I’m sorry to break it to you but he is dead.” Dustin replies while taking a book with sticky hands.

Eddie stops him before he manages to get to the book “At least clean your hand before touching the books.”

“It’s a shop, the bathroom is for the employees.”

“I’m the owner and only employee so I’m telling you: clean your hands before touching the book.”

“Fine…” he replies, then yells from the bathroom “At least will you tell me who is your favorite author?”

Eddie sighs “Have you ever read the Tales from the Upside Down?”

Dustin comes back staring at him “Steve is your favorite author?”

“Who? No, the author is James Le Blanche.”

“Which is Steve’s pseudonym: his second name and his mother’s maiden name.”

Eddie opens his mouth, astonished.

“Steve?! Like in Steve Harrington?! Like the boy who bullied me during high school? That Steve?” The one that was so fucking hot that he failed English literature because he kept staring at his ass? That Steve?

Dustin nods seriously “I told you he was cool. You never listen to me, so…”

“That’s not possible! That guy graduated from high school only because Nancy tutored him!”

Dustin shakes his head “He found out in college that he is actually dyslexic, and since then he has become a whole new person. He attended a course in creative writing and participated in a writing contest with his first book and won it. And you could have read the draft if you wanted to, but you never wanted to!”

“You told me that your babysitter wrote a book! I thought it was a romance for single ladies! How was I supposed to know that your babysitter was the new king of horror?”

“Well, he was always King Steve, now he is King James. No matter what, he is always king!” Dustin jokes while Eddie stares at him astonished.

“You are kidding, right?”

Dustin shakes his head “Would you like to meet him?”

“No fucking way! I always hated jocks like him!”

“But you love his books!”

Fuck! The books are amazing! A perfect mix of mystery, horror, and suspense. 

“If you are making fun of me I swear to god, Henderson, that in the next campaign, you are going to regret it! Deeply!”

Dustin smirks “When would you like him to come?”

“When he wants? My humble library is always open for artists like James Le Blanche!” He can’t say Harrington's name because he is not sure that Dustin is serious about that. 

***

A week later Eddie is putting every fucking chair that he managed to put his hands on in his bookshop but there are already more people than the ones that the bookshop can accommodate.

“I should have reserved a bigger room.”

He complaints to Dustin.

“You should have, but Steve would have not come. He hates notoriety. It’s the first time that he accepted to present one of his books and he told me that it was only as a favor to me.”

“Did you tell him that this is my shop?” Dustin suddenly gets really interested in the carpet.

“Henderson! Did you tell him that this is my shop?”

They do not have the time to continue the conversation because someone is banging on the rear door and when Eddie opens he sees the very Steve Harrington standing in front of him.

He is wearing some golden-framed glasses and a trench coat and has a wet umbrella in his hands.

“Holy fucking shit Henderson! I will never do something like that again. Have you any idea how hard it was to find a parking spot? And it’s raining and you know that I hate driving when it rains! And… Munson? What the fuck are you doing here?”

It’s him.

It’s really him.

What the fuck!

“Ehm. Hi Harrington, Dustin might have forgotten to tell you that the bookshop is mine.”

Steve glares at Dustin “Yeah, I think he forgot to mention that, right Dusty-Bun?”

“Come on! Eddie is cool! I don’t know why you never hang out together! You have so much in common!”

“Like what?” Steve asks, unimpressed.

“Me!”

Ok. This is going to be really awkward.

“Listen, man, if you don’t want to do the presentation it’s alright. I’ll just tell everyone that you had a last-minute problem and…”

“I said that I was going to do it and I’ll do it. But don’t lie to me again Henderson."

“I didn’t lie!” the boy protests “I just… omitted?”

Steve sighs, then looks at Eddie “Ok. What did you have in mind? Do you want to ask some questions or do you want me to read some extracts from the book?”

Shit. Eddie has no fucking idea and he can’t ask Steve what he usually does because he usually doesn’t do things like this.

“I thought that you would feel more comfortable reading some extracts and then answer a few questions from the audience if you like that.”

Steve nods, leaves his trench and his umbrella next to the door, and follows Eddie around the bookshop.

The shop is tiny but cozy, there are a couple of old armchairs next to a wobbly table.

“Would you like me to sign some copies? Maybe the ones that you are going to sell here at the bookshop?”

“Will you do that?”

“Yeah, why not, I’m here and we still have time so…”

Eddie takes the books, they are not too many, the shop is not very big, but Steve signs every copy.

When the audience enters the room Steve is charming as Eddie remembered.

He reads a few extracts from the book, answers some questions, and even signs some books, but when the alarm on his clock starts to ring he excuses himself and leaves the bookshop from the back door with Dustin.

***

When Eddie closes the shop, a few hours later, he sees the copy of the book that Steve was reading on his desk.

Inside there is a piece of paper torn from a notebook.

“Sorry for being an asshole in high school. 

I’d like to offer you a coffee one of these days to catch up.

Thank you for having me!

Steve”

And a telephone number.

It smells of Steve’s cologne and Eddie knows that he will call him, but for the moment he hides it in his wallet.

Who would have ever known? He fell deeply in love two times with the same man.

[elliefictions]

A MET OF THEIR OWN (PART 1)

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Original Female Character

Summary: Pedro is invited to the MET GALA and kept the secret about his outfit from Lizzie, his longtime girlfriend.  

Part 1 is Lizzie’s POV. 

warnings: fluff. Some smut will be in part 2. 

Word count: 1,7k words

PART 2

Writer’s note: first fic ever written and quite late to the MET GALA game. This was in my drafts for a while and I have decided to share it with the world. Also, I thought we did not mention that now infamous lip ring enough. Enjoy part 1! Part 2 is already up!

-------

“Too bad you’re not coming with me tonight”.

Pedro was in bed with Lizzie, gently stroking her shoulder from behind as she was laying down on her side. She lazily smirked.

A few weeks prior, he received an invitation from Valentino to attend the MET Gala. Proof of his recent meteoric rise in fame after starring in two major TV shows and trolling his way on the Internet. Obviously, he wanted her to come with him.

“Honey, as much as I’d love to, this is your moment. I’d only be a distraction.”

“Oh, because you think you’d outshine me?”

Lizzie turned to face him and he was looking her up and down defiantly. She tried to do the same even if she couldn’t help but find him endearing with his sassy mug.

“Well, duh. Of course I would”, she replied, tracing his aquiline nose with her finger and making a boop on its tip. He broke into a sweet grin.

“And you are absolutely right”. He fondly said, hugging her and peppering her forehead with kisses, his mustache tickling her skin. He would always find a way to make her laugh.

“Pedro…you do remember why we can’t go together, right?” she inquired while caressing his cheek softly.

They have been dating for a while now. Rumors had started circulating since the Oscars a few months ago but it was a miracle they had not been papped yet, because she also was famous in her own right, as a rock singer and musician. They both wanted to make their relationship public at some point but they and their respective teams all agreed that the MET Gala was too big of a stage to make their red carpet debut. They just wanted to be out but also wanted to avoid making it a PR move. And of course, she couldn’t even attend his preparations as it might attract too much attention.

“I do, I do.” Pedro drew one last kiss on her lips and got up. “It’s just too bad you won’t get to see my outfit before the red carpet…”.

“Well, that is unfair.”

Lizzie pouted and threw a pillow at him, making him snort. Pedro has never been good at keeping secrets. He always spoiled the plot of his own movies or TV shows, sometimes much to her own chagrin. But somehow he managed to keep his outfit a full mystery. Not a single clue, not a single peek.

“The theme is “Karl Lagerfeld”. Please tell me you won’t go dressed up as Karl.”

Pedro choked before quickly trying to recompose, made a zipping gesture with his hand, airlocked his mouth and threw the imaginary key far away.

This was actually a clue. They had never discussed his opinion about Karl Lagerfeld but she could totally make a guess. Honoring a fatphobic, islamophobic man? There was no way he’d do anything resembling an homage.

She got up and started making the bed while staring at him with a sly grin. He probably knew he accidentally gave her a hint. He got out of the bedroom at a resolute pace.

“Do you think I will like it?”

“I don’t know…”

“Can we at least FaceTime before?” she pleaded with puppy eyes as she followed him to the kitchen.

“Nope.”, he teased, insisting on the last syllable, while pouring coffee for both of them and handing her a cup.  

“Thank you.” She quickly sipped a small mouthful. “But will you get to keep the outfit? Will you come back home with it?”

He stopped drinking his coffee halfway through, pondering her question. He finally gave her a side glance and smirked.

“I really can’t have it. But I might be allowed to keep it at least until tomorrow…”

“Finally!” Lizzie threw her hands in the air. “Is this Christmas?”

He looked at her with adoring eyes and chuckled.

“I’ll ask Julie. I’ll let you know.” He winked at her as he finished his coffee and quickly grabbed a toast. “But I don’t know when I’ll be back home so you don’t need to wait for me”. He kissed her on her forehead. “By the way, what are you gonna do today?”

“Not much,” She sighed. “I have to finish writing a song. I’ve been stuck on that one for three days. Hopefully, I get to finish it. And then I’ll just chill, wait for your red carpet and then for you to come back home”.  She dramatically cocked her eyebrow. “Hopefully with the outfit”.

“Oh…and if I do, will you help me undress, my love?” He teased her back as he slowly got closer to her and nudged her nose with his.

“Only if it’s worth it.” Lizzie deadpanned.

He laughed wholeheartedly, then raised his hand to high-five her.

“Deal.”

—---

Lizzie had spent the whole day finishing the song. It would still need some finetuning but, at least, she had the overall structure and was satisfied with the result.

After having sent the demo file to her bandmates, she decided to unwind for the day. She opened Pedro’s drawer to retrieve his beloved Lakers T-shirt, then went to the kitchen to open a bottle of red wine and prepare a quick board with crudités, charcuterie and cheese. She couldn’t bother to actually cook anything so an “aperitif” would do the trick.  

As she placed the board and her glass of wine on the coffee table, she turned on the TV and opened Vogue’s livestream of the MET GALA carpet. She recognized several faces in the crowd, and silently commented on the various outfits. There were several black tuxedos that made her facepalm - it was too literal of an interpretation of the theme-, but other more interesting takes, such as homages to Karl’s cat “Choupette”, that made her either smirk or irk.

She looked at her phone. No news from Pedro for the whole day. She looked on social media and there was no photo of him yet. He probably was still getting ready at the hotel.

She decided to text him, sending him a picture of the TV with her wine glass in front.

L. - 7:30pm

“Hey, ready to see you on TV! This is your night, your moment. Enjoy it, honey. Love you. 💜.”

P - 7:31pm

“Thanks, love you too 💜. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Won’t be able to text for the next few hours.”

P - 7:33pm

“BTW, got to talk to Julie. She arranged for the Valentino crew to collect my outfit back tomorrow afternoon.”

P - 7:33pm

“You’re not ready…😈”

L. - 7:34pm

“Such a tease…😏”

She left her phone on the couch and sipped her wine. But then her phone vibrated again. She picked it up with one hand.

P - 7:36pm

“This won’t be on the final look…so I can show it to you 😏”

The next message contained no text but just a picture. Lizzie almost spat her wine, as she immediately recognized his lower face and her focus went immediately to his lips and to the jewel that adorned them.

L. - 7:38pm

“Is that…A LIP RING????? 😱”

Lizzie’s brain froze, as her mind was suddenly racing in a million directions, not knowing what to make of this piece of information. She immediately saw the three dots moving on their conversation window, meaning that Pedro was writing her back, and she waited expectantly for the reply.

P - 7:39pm

“😘”

L. - 7:39pm

“OMG. Please, another picture?”

But Pedro did not reply, he did not even see her latest text. However, it only took a few more minutes before her phone started to blow up with the first pictures of his outfit and ten minutes later, he’d actually appear on TV.

She was right. It wasn’t an homage to Karl Lagerfeld. Actually, it was the complete opposite.

Among the crowd of black and white gowns and tuxedos, she couldn’t miss her partner and his slicked back hair -which made him look older than his age but still it was one of her favorites- wearing a bright red shirt with a slim black tie, very Kraftwerk-ian - and probably the only reference to Karl, both he and Kraftwerk were German?-, under a long red coat.

But the big detail that was without a doubt a flipping off the designer’s legacy was the lower part of his outfit. The black shorts. The calf length socks. The shiny leather combat boots. Him showing knee and bits of leg hair. Those were big no-no’s in Lagerfeld’s fashion lingo.

The whole thing was against everything Lagerfeld stood for in terms of men’s fashion. And you knew Pedro enough to assume this was totally deliberate. It was a statement. He came to the MET GALA to troll it, AND will probably be crowned as one of the best-dressed of the night.

He was a punk. And he was her hero. And seeing him on the TV, looking so regal and confident made her beam with pride and feel so emotional.

Lizzie kept looking at photos and videos of him on Twitter. Even if she wasn’t too fond of the shorts, the overall look made her feral for him. It felt like an edgy, punk version of a Vampire Godfather. And god she loved this look on him. She was just sad he dropped the lip ring but she understood it at the same time. Given all the reactions on social media, he’d have made legions of women and men lose their minds.

And she did not think she would actually live to see this day. They were talking about the man who had like only five T-shirts when they met - including the Lakers shirt- and who looked like a disheveled mess, even on promotional duties. And now he was a fashion icon.

And then suddenly, it dawned on her. Later tonight, he will come back. Dressed like this.

She looked at the Lakers T-shirt she was wearing and then opened the selfie mode of her phone camera. Her bare face was worn, and her hair looked like a rat’s nest. She felt entirely inadequate.

She didn’t know when he’d be back. But she imagined him attending the party and the afterparties. Which meant that she had some time ahead of her. She immediately got up from her couch, and cleaned your glass, plate and board. She had some work to do.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Tipsy

AN: Inspired by the Hyperrealism TTT episodes and my love for drunk Hoshi. I have a longer Vernon fic that I've been working on for some time now (it's probably my longest fic yet lol). However, I don't want there to be no Seventeen fics on my blog, so I've decided to go through my drafts and work on other (ideally shorter) ones in the meantime. Enjoy!

Synopsis: Your boyfriend has one too many drinks on a night out. However, he disagrees.

Heads up: Kwon Soonyoung x Fem! Reader, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, fluff, Hoshi being a big baby and wanting kisses, Reader relents but it doesn't go beyond that and some suggestiveness.

Word count: 544

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"I'm fine," Soonyoung argues as you drag him towards your front door, trying your best to keep the very tipsy man on his feet.

"Soonyoung, you can barely stand," you respond dryly, thanking whatever deity is looking out for you tonight when you manage to open your front door with little fanfare. Pulling a pouty Soonyoung in behind you.

"I can stand just fine!" He argues back, a cute flush colouring his cheeks as he puffs them out in protest. You just stare at him, hoping you don't look too smug when he wobbles slightly on his feet.

"That doesn't prove anything," he retorts, the flush on his face darkening. "Sure, it doesn't. Anyways, let's get some water in you and get you to bed. It's been a long night," you say, heading to the kitchen, grabbing a glass for him and yourself. You could use some water right now too, honestly, despite not going nearly as hard as Soonyoung had.

He startles you when his arms come to wrap around your waist. Nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing a few uncoordinated kisses there. "Don't wanna go to bed. Not tired," he mutters.

"Soonyoung," you chastise without much sterness, allowing yourself to melt into him for a moment.

"Well, we could go to bed," he muses against your skin, squeezing you a little tighter and pressing himself closer to you.

"Nope. None of that. You're drunk, and I'm tired," you retort, wiggling your way out of your boyfriend's grasp. You push down the urge to kiss him because of his cute, little pout and hand him his glass. "Now, drink," you say watching him intently.

"Will you give me a kiss if I do?"

"Soonyoung."

"Please? Just one,"

You really need to work on your resolve when it comes to him. You can't allow yourself to crumble so easily all the time.

"Okay," you say finally. A bemused smile spreading across your face as you watch him essentially chug the glass in seconds. He's so ridiculous.

"Done. Now, I was promised kisses?"

"You were promised a kiss," you correct without any bite to your voice. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a soft peck to his lips as you toy with his hair.

"That was barely a kiss," he whines, his hands resting dangerously close to your ass.

"It was enough of a kiss," you retort, kissing his cheek. Before your very convincing and attractive boyfriend can weasel any more kisses out of you, you manoeuvre your way out of his hold to grab a jug of water.

"No, it wasn't," he complains, but you can tell he's getting just as tired as you are. That makes your job here significantly easier.

"Let's go to bed, Soonyoung. Maybe I'll give you more kisses then," you respond with a soft smile when he yawns. The sheer brightness of his smile in response causes affection to bubble up inside of you.

"Okay," is all the warning you receive before he grabs your unoccupied hand and drags you down the hall to your bedroom. You almost spill some water in the process and the lights in the kitchen are still on, but you don't have the heart to be genuinely annoyed by him.

[on-coming-dusk]

some silly little steddie

i'm just keep finding scenes in one of my notebooks today. next up is one from beginning of November 2022. Shall we have a look see????

*****

Steve hadn't meant to intrude, really. It was such a private moment and he was going to hate himself later for just barging into that hospital room. Eddie clung to his uncle, sobbing with his face buried in the man's chest. Steve back pedaled immediately, but not before he saw the way silent tears ran down Mr. Munson's face as he held his nephew like he would never let him go again. It makes Steve's chest ache as he drives back to his big empty house.

It hurts worse that night, worse than it has in a long time. The mean part of Steve's brain - the part he desperately tries to ignore - tells him how sad it is that even the town freak has more people looking after him than he does. He knows that isn't fair, especially because he really likes Eddie, and realized throughout this round of Upside Down shit that he hadn't been fair to Eddie in the past. Maybe it was karma from being a shitty person that left him sitting alone in this house, that was at least an easier pill to swallow than the alternative. He forces his mind away from it all, turns on whatever record Robin left on his turntable just to shut his brain up.

Steve gets through it, breathes through the tears as he has so many times before. He goes to the hospital for regular visits, spending what precious time with Max and Eddie he can until they are released. He's a little sad that Dustin is spending almost every free moment he has in Eddie's hospital room but hey, he gets it. At least if Dustin can see Eddie he knows he's safe. Steve remembers vividly that state the kid had been in when they were headed back to the trailer, clutching a bloodied Eddie, sobbing and screaming for help, screaming Steve's name. He never wants to see Dustin like that again.

It goes on like that for a while. Steve and Robin volunteer regularly until Family Video is able to reopen while the party goes to school. Eddie and Max recover while Mr. Munson signs every form imaginable the government places in front of him because Eddie broke down and told him everything. It takes Max longer to heal than the kids thought it might, her spunk and ferocity making it hard to believe that she needs all these weeks in the hospital. But Eddie is released before long, back to driving his teachers insane and determined to graduate.

Steve doesn't expect it, the heavy knock on the front door of his house. Robin knows to just let herself in. He blinks as he opens it, staring up at Eddie, curls groomed and looking more put together than Steve can ever recall seeing him before. "Hey Harrington. Henderson mentioned you have a real sweet piano in this big ass house. Think I could use it? I need to sound something out for Gareth and really don't want to spend all my free time at that God forsaken school."

That implies you're happy to spend time with me though his brain practically shouts and now Steve is fighting tears as he lets Eddie inside because he has someone who wants to visit besides Robs. Not that he's ever ungrateful for his time with Robin, this is just different and new and for some reason seeing Eddie Munson kicking off his new Reeboks in the foyer is exciting. "I didn't realize you play piano, Munson. Are you a man of many hats?"

"Nope. But we're planning something for Uncle Wayne and I need a piano for it. Now is as good a time as any to learn, y'know?"

*****

This is purely self indulgent and I love it. I was a band geek in school and...yeah. Stay tuned!!! I'm gonna post this to ao3!!

Ps, I know my tenses are all out of wack I speed ran writing this at work today 🫠 I promise it will be better in the final draft!

[marypsue]

16 and 21 for the fic ask meme

[from this meme]

16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles?

There are two possible times I come up with titles: either as soon as the premise lands in my head, or when I am staring down the draft on AO3 and about to post it. There is no in-between.

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

Here's my little secret: I don't delete anything anymore. Anything that doesn't work where I'm trying to put it gets copied and pasted into the very end of the document where the story lives, after about half a page of blank space from the last line of 'real' writing. Then I have it, preserved in amber, for if I get another twenty scenes in and realise that I need something and that thing that I cut out twenty scenes ago is exactly the thing I need.

(This happens more often than you might think. I completely cut about 2/3 of the final chapter of the road goes ever on, thinking I'd have to rewrite it from scratch. Nope! Just had to chop up those 2/3 of a chapter that I cut, rearrange it like a maniac with a corkboard and some red thread, and write a handful of interstitial sentences. And now it reads like it was always meant to be that way, and I can't even remember where all the stitches are. Ain't writing neat?)

To answer the spirit of this question and not the letter, though: yeah, all the time. Part of that is because I keep scenes that I cut, and if I really love them, I'll often find a way to work them in somewhere else (or into something else), so it doesn't feel like quite as much of a permanent sacrifice as it might. Part of that is because...well, have a story.

I'm a fresh baby adult. I have just recently graduated high school, and now the full weight of everyone's expectations of what I'll do with my 'potential' and everyone's disappointment that I don't have a clear, safe career path planned out yet are resting directly on my shoulders. I'm in a university art class. I'm very, very nervous, because I don't feel like a 'real' artist, because I don't feel like I belong here with all the good artists, and because I have a nervous perfectionist streak almost as wide as my entire body.

We are doing a unit on sculpture. I have never in my life done any sculpture, except for a couple of (extremely ugly) clay crafts in elementary school. We are assigned to take a rectangular block of styrofoam, and make an animal shape out of it. The kicker - we can't add anything to the block, only cut away.

I manage to make a reasonably decent-looking animal shape in my rough draft. But as soon as I try to translate it to the big block, it's immediately obvious that my design...lacks something. It's blocky. It's bulky. It's ugly. It looks...close to the shape of an actual animal, close to photorealism, but the fundamental rectangular-ness of it is so overwhelmingly strong. I'm carefully whittling away at the edges and the corners and the curves, scared to wreck it by making a big change, but nothing I do is helping at all.

Luckily, I have a very good art professor. Luckily, I have limited patience for fussing around with things that aren't working. (Luckily, I've been listening to MCR's Danger Days on repeat and it, especially the idea of 'Would you destroy something perfect to make something beautiful?', has been setting little fires in my brain.) Luckily, somehow, for whatever reason, I get fed up with nibbling around the edges and seeing no results. I get brave.

And I cut a deep curve into the side of my sculpture, cutting nearly half of the material away in one stroke.

The sculpture comes to life. The change is instant and obvious, and, more importantly, it's good. It's not anything resembling photorealistic anymore - if an actual animal was shaped like that, it would be very, very uncomfortable or possibly very dead - but it looks more like an animal than it ever did when I was going for 'realistic'. It has motion. It has visual interest. It carries the eye through the sculpture. And this massive improvement on the one side makes it suddenly extremely obvious where the rest of the sculpture needs similar cuts and angles to balance it.

I think I ended up getting a B or a C+ on that assignment. The sculpture turned out kind of wonky, with some angles that still didn't sit right. It was not a piece of timeless art. But that wasn't what was important. What was important was that I took a big risk, and got rid of what wasn't working, and it made something good. Something compelling. Something interesting. Something that, for all its flaws, I was much, much prouder of than the dull, safe thing I had been working on.

Sometimes, especially when you're just starting out as a writer, just starting to find your voice and feel confident in your work, every sentence feels precious and it feels dangerous to move or remove them, because what if you'll ruin it, what if you'll never make anything that good again. But if you're writing, it means you care enough about telling a story to try at it. Trying, and continuing to try, is how improvement happens. As Annie Dillard so beautifully put it, these things fill from behind. You will write something as good as that again. Many things, even. And even better things, so long as you keep plugging away at it.

And...you know your story. You know when something doesn't fit or isn't working, way deep down. The worst thing you can do for yourself is leave it where it doesn't belong anyway because you're scared of making a mistake.

[paulmezcal]

20 questions for fic writers

ty. for the tag, @hangmanbradshaw! between you and mo, i feel v welcomed to tumblr haha

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 7

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 75,042 (writing this after seeing yours was humbling)

3. What fandoms do you write for? top gun with a sprinkle of marauders-era in my drafts but shhh

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

there's a limit to your love -- sereshaw amnesia fic

caught a fever from the inside -- bradley fixing all of jake's self doubt and thought spiraling issues with his wang

sugar on my tongue -- pierced nip fic no. 1

when bradley falls in love (goose&carole's version) -- iwtby companion piece for someone's birthday

you've got the win in your bag -- pierced nip fic no. 2

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes! from the point that i started doing it (i don't have the attention span to go back, sorry) but moving forward i do! i eat every comment i get as crunch croutons on my soup

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? LOL can i answer with some ideas on my "to write" list here because...

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? fever's got a pretty happy ending for how spiral-y it starts off with

8. Do you get hate on fics? nah

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? stares at the 20k series i wrote about jake seresin with nipple ring(s)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? technically i wrote an in-fandom crossover in the iwtby-verse! but nothing so far

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? doubt it!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i did a round robin fic that was pretty fun, but otherwise no(t yet). i vibe with group writing though, wouldn't be opposed to doing it more!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? jake/bradley right now! took a fandom break for a long while, but was definitely a deancas girl for a while, also i have read a large chunk of "the man from uncle" illya kuryakin/napoleon solo fic, i'm not sorry.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? ahhh there's a few i am afraid i have preemptively lost steam before even starting but i am not giving up (yet)! there's a reverse-hanahaki-disease jake/bradley that got riffed on discord that i really want to write.

16. What are your writing strengths? idk maybe thought spiraling and angst?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? keeping things short/to the point hahaha

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? fine with it, but i do judge the google translate options from french when i read it (sorry)

19. First fandom you wrote for? probably supernatural or harry potter, i can't remember

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? fever is definitely my fav, both 'cause it's the first thing i wrote in a long time and kinda dragged me back into fandom, and because i love me some self-deprecating introspective character studies. limits might take this place when i finish it!

i tag @magdarko in response :) and @lewispullsman also for all your tumblr pro tips! (no pressure)

[perfectarmony]

ep 8 of TCL had multiple scenes with Arman at Thony's house/garden. do you think that was just for convenience or do you think the writers are trying to merge their worlds a bit more? some have noted that he looked out of place there - do you think they are trying to highlight how different Thony and Arman's everyday lives still are (what a diff betw Nadia & Arman's home vs. Thony's, lol) or starting to make it seem more natural for him to be there? obviously, it's much easier to have Arman there when Thony's family is not around. where do you see it going in the next few eps? tx.

Okay, well this is about to get messy anon! 😅

Welcome to this week's episode of ''my two cents on Armony'' I guess??

Disclaimer as always: this is just how I see things - and those things are always clearer in my head 👀

Also, Tumblr apparently hates me, and I had to start this entire thing again from scratch after it failed to save as a draft, so I might come back to add something I forgot later 🙄

Okaaaay, so I finally had time to quickly go through the tag, and I definitely mostly agree with what has been said about that part! so I won't dive too much into it, because others have already said it perfectly!

But there is something I'd like to add though, because I feel like by focusing so much on their scenes, we don't see that a lot more is actually going on.

To try to answer your question, I don't think anything is done for convenience on this show - but what struck me most during this episode wasn't really their scenes, but Thony's - alone in that house.

And all I could think of was this house no longer feels like home

sorry not sorry if that song is now stuck in your head, but that's all I could hear (also, don't take the song, that is about cheating, literally - just make the lyrics that feel relevent fit Thony's pain and let the song guide you 🤧 I am not going to start vidding this song when I have 100 other projects on standby. Nope.)

The director did a magnificent job there. I absolutely loved those quiet, yet powerful scenes where Élodie just shines through the pain and emptiness her character is feeling.

To have to watch her all curled up in Luca's bed or simply sitting on her bed and staring into the void - and then cutting to the noisy, chaotic and happy bubble Fiona and the kids are in...it was just stunningly painful.

Okay, you might wonder where I'm getting at with that, but keep those scenes in mind and let me go back to Arman and Thony.

You're right, the difference between their two houses is stricking. At least it usually is. But not so much this time...if you're willing to look past the money tied to Arman's house.

As gorgeous and fancy as Nadia and Arman's house is - it's just that: a cold and empty house with no soul. I might be influenced by the fact that we only saw that house when they had fights or difficult times, but still - it doesn't feel like a home to me.

And this is just how Thony's house (and heart...) felt during this episode - empty, cold and way too quiet. When Arman first came by, that's all he could hear - the screaming silence, instead of the warmth he may have expected (and maybe hoped) to find there.

Something else to remember: Thony is in this situation because she wanted to help Arman - and this is maybe also partially why he felt so out of place. He knows how much her family - Luca - means to her, and yet, because of that choice, she has to stay away from them. I wish we would see more of it on screen - but we shouldn't forget about the guilt Arman could be feeling for dragging her into this mess. (and yes, she made her own decision, but still.)

Also. Arman had already lost it all - his power, his money, his wife/family. For Thony, her only treasure has always been her family - the only thing that truly mattered, the light she came home to when everything else was dark. But this was the first time she was left with nothing, and no one.

I can hear you - 'but she has Arman.' Yes. And no.

When Arman and Thony were together, they had nothing but each other - and they chose to be alone together. Arman offered to stay, and she didn't even hesitate one second - because he represented safety, comfort, but also, to some extent, family.

She still had to come to terms with the fact that every move she takes to keep her family safe is painting a target on their backs - and that she had to stay away from them to protect them.

And then, she had to push Arman into Nadia's arms in an attempt to keep both their families safe. But in doing so - to some extent (send help. I'm reading way too much into all of this and I'm turning in circles.) - she had to watch Arman get back to his family, and to what she sees as his home. More than that, him being with Nadia meant that he was able to protect her - while she's all by herself, has no control, and has to stay as far as possible from her family to keep them safe.

When he comes back to give her the key card, this is also what Arman feels guilty about - to have to leave her alone while he has someone to go home to - even if it's just a lie.

Am I making any sense? Or am I just inflicting myself more pain unnecessarily by trying to turn my thoughts into words? 🤧

As to where I see things going in the next episodes - careful spoilers incoming in 3.....2......1.......

*************spoilers*************

after reading the synopsis for 2x09, I guess Arman won't have to play pretend much longer....But with everything going on - Bosco (rip), finding a new supplier, Luca getting worse, Thony going to Manila with Kamdar (🤧) I guess there won't be much time any of that. But I might still be over here hoping that they're together when Fiona takes Luca home. I think Chris and Jaz will be staying at JD's while Fi looks over Luca whenever Thony has to be away - so maybe there's a chance we could see him back there. But after that, Luca is at the hospital...so....🤧 Can you all feel the pain coming?!

Okaaaay, thank you for forcing me to verbalize my thoughts anon, and I hope I somewhat answered your questions! ❤️

[514ko]

YNaM Retrospectives — Chap. III

          And we’re back with another Retrospective!  Just baaaaarely managed to squeak it out tonight.  I have ambitions to do these weekly until I’ve caught up, but I’m working on other stuff in between, so we’ll see how well I can keep to it...

          As usual, here’s the chapter in question:

          So without further ado, onwards into the scene I dislike most in all of YNaM!

          Okay, I’m being dramatic.  99% of it is just me being miffed by how I characterized Satori in the first scene.  She’s legit one of my top five favorite characters, like I absolutely love her, but man this scene reads like character bashing to me now.  And I wasn’t going for that!  I was going for a really explosive, biting sort of feeling from Satori, but I must’ve, like, completely forgotten the meaning of the word nuance???

          Like, okay, the story needs to have an antagonist.  Someone whose actions are extreme enough to warrant Koishi being the way she is.  Plus, someone to stop Koishi and Flandre from just getting all buddy-buddy immediately.  There’s gotta be social pressure somehow, someway.  That’s just how it is in romances.

          But I swear I just OOCed the heck out of poor Satori to do it.  I mean, I do that with all the characters to some extent (Koishi’s entire personality is inherently OOC, after all), but as I said in the last Retrospective, I still want to make them recognizable as themselves!  But Satori’s just kinda mean-spirited in Chap. III, and as smug and haughty as SA Satori is, she’s not, like, mean.

          I don’t even know if this is, like, a significant problem for people or it’s just me and I’m just blowing it way out of proportion, but I do genuinely regret it lmao.  But the nice thing about a serialized format is that, when you do something like that and realize it before the end of the run, you have a chance to rewrite things and fix them.  So I’ve since rewritten a lot of things, and hopefully fixed them lol

          If this bothered you, even just a little bit, hopefully next chapter of YNaM will explain some things…

          Anyway, scene 2 was kind of a spur-of-the-moment, worldbuilding sort of thing.  It really didn’t change much from draft to final; I just needed a scene in which Flandre learns about Koishi’s mind-reading.  I don’t have much to say about it; it kind of just exists.

          It did give me a chance to show some of my Flan headcanons, though.  Like, for instance, that she’s actually really smart, and knows a bunch of stuff from just idly reading all day.  A book of Old English linguistics might be super dry and boring to us, but for a vampire stuck in a room all day—well, it beats staring at a wall.  Though frankly, if you actually do find Old English linguistics, I applaud you.  You’re much stronger than me.

          Another funny thing—when I showed this chapter to a friend, they were like “oh, one of your favorite characters is Patchouli, right?”  Aaaand nope!  I don’t even like Patchy.  I mean, I don’t dislike her; she’s just not super interesting, I guess?

          And the final scene…  I don’t really have much to say.  It’s still among my favorite scenes I’ve ever written, YNaM or otherwise; I’m still super proud of it!  It’s also probably one of the most personal, so even just rereading it is a little tough.  So I’ll say this—it’s the closest I’ve ever come to capturing that particular feeling into words.  It’s far from perfect, but I’m still really proud of it, and at the time it represented the achievement of a personal goal I’d held for myself for a long, long time.

          I think that, in any creative field, it’s important to be self-critical, even perfectionistic sometimes—if chasing the dragon is motivating to you, it can be a great way to grow.  But I think it’s equally important to be able to look at what you’ve created and find something of worth within it, even if it’s just to point at it and say “oh hey, that bit was kinda cool.  I’m gonna try doing more of that!”  And it's difficult to do that sometimes, really difficult, especially when you're in the pits. But if you are able to find that balance, I think your relationship with your work becomes way healthier, and you can actually build some self-confidence that way. I used to loathe my work, thinking that in order to share it with others it had to be some arbitrary shade of perfect. But as I got older, I started letting go a bit--and my writing got way better for it. And besides, at the end of the day, it's just 2hu fanfic, like--I take it kinda seriously, but in the end that's all it is looool