#Unwanted prequel

[scoonsalicious]

Pocket MCU - Iron Man 1/?

In Which Pocket and Tony Have a Video Call.

Word Count: 979

Scene In-Movie @ 10:30

So, I decided to re-watch Iron Man tonight, and I started thinking about how Pocket would fit into existing MCU narratives. So, here's a little bonus, taking place during the first Iron Man movie. This might turn into something, it might not. For now, just a little fun thing I did, mostly so I could write more Pocket/Tony (even though she hasn't been given the nickname 'Pocket' yet). Enjoy!

“Only you would fuck a girl who called you a war profiteer,” you told Tony over the video call from your office in New York. “She still upstairs?”

“Miss Potts should be taking care of her right now,” Tony said as he fiddled with the engine of his 1932 Ford Flathead Roadster in his Malibu garage. 

“How’s that working out, anyway?” you asked, your interest piqued. “She’s lasted loads longer than any of your other personal assistants.”

“She’s good,” Tony said, taking a piece of the car’s engine out and putting it aside. “Very efficient.”

“I like her,” you told him. “I think she’s been good for you.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t need her if you just moved out here permanently,” he told you. 

“And just leave the New York office to Obadiah Stane? I don’t think so,” you said. 

“I don’t know why you hate him so much, Kiddo,” Tony said, turning his focus away from the car and fully onto you.

“He’s the one who hates me,” you clarified. “I’m just matching his energy.”

“I think you’re reading too much into it. He’s a little wary of you, that’s all.”

“He hates that you nominated me for Chief Technical Officer,” you said. “He officially opposed the nomination in front of the board.”

Tony frowned. “When the fuck did that happen? Why wasn’t I informed of it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe if you spent a little less time shooting craps and fucking Vanity Fair reporters, and actually attended a board meeting every once in a while,” you said. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Tony assured you.

“No, don’t,” you protested. “It’s bad enough he thinks I’m just another one of your fangirls. The last thing I need is for you to make a demand on him for my sake.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” he asked you. “This job is yours– it should be yours. You’ve earned it.”

You sighed. “And I appreciate you saying that. Thing is, I’m not going to prove that by having you tell people. Only way it’s going to happen is if they see what I’m capable of, and if I leave New York for Malibu, they never will.”

“Did I ever tell you you’re very annoying when you make a valid point that goes against what I want?” Tony asked you.

“Frequently. All the time. Why do you think I enjoy doing it so much?”

“You know, I think I liked you better when you were just a stripper,” he said.

You stuck your tongue out at him through the video feed. “Yeah, well, whose fault is it that I’m not anymore?”

“You could always join my flight crew, if you ever wanted back on the pole,” he teased.

“Please,” you scoffed at the suggestion. “You call them dancers? They should be ashamed of themselves.”

“Hey now, what they lack in rhythm, they make up for in other… areas,” Tony smirked. 

“Do you ever get tired of being a giant slut?” you asked affectionately.

“Not yet, but if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Maybe second,” you told him.

“Whaddaya mean?”

“I don’t know– maybe you should tell Miss Potts first,” you grinned. You looked behind him to see the woman in question coming down the stairs through the glass door behind him. “Speaking of which, it’s her birthday today, so be nice.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “How the hell do you know that?” he asked you.

“I pay fucking attention, dumbass,” you said.

Pepper Potts entered the basement, talking on the phone. “You are supposed to be halfway around the world right now,” she said to Tony as she tapped something on her tablet.

“Hey, Pepper,” you called.

“(Y/N), hi,” the other woman said. “How’s the nomination going?”

You shrugged. “Oh, you know, just roadblocks from the patriarchy. No big deal.”

Pepper nodded understandingly at that.

“How’d she take it?” Tony asked Pepper, interrupting your conversation.

“Like a champ,” Pepper offered. 

“Which translates to ‘like an obnoxious bitch,” you chuckled. Pepper winked at you over Tony’s shoulder. “You owe her a raise, Boss,” you told Tony.

“You give a raise,” Tony said. He directed his next words to Pepper: “Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?” 

“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago,” she told him.

“That’s funny,” Tony said as he continued to play with the engine of the Roadster. “I thought with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there.”

“This is the flight to Afghanistan?” you asked, and Pepper nodded at you.

“I mean,” Tony spoke over you, “doesn’t it defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?”

“Ignore him, Pepper,” you said, turning to face your computer monitor. “Tony, if you don’t get your ass to the airport right now, I’m going to hack into JARVIS’s system right now and swap all your playlists from metal to nineties bubblegum pop.”

“You wouldn’t.” Tony said, standing up and wiping his hands on a towel.

“Don’t test me, Boss,” you threatened. “This is a huge-ass contract.”

Inside Tony’s garage, the opening notes of Hanson’s MMMBop began to play.

“Fine, enough! You win, you tiny monster!’ Tony grunted, throwing his towel down. 

You immediately cut the music. “Get on that plane,” you warned him. “I’ll know if you don’t.” You gave him a Look. “And Pepper, tell him to stop pulling your pigtails, okay?”

Pepper blushed, but she just nodded.

“Give Rhodey a hug for me,” you told Tony, “and let me know when you land, you absolute dipshit.” You disconnected the call.

“You know,” said Tony, turning back to Pepper, “sometimes I regret ever meeting that kid.”

Pepper smiled. “No, you don’t.”

Tony grinned at her. “No, no I don’t. Not even for a second. Now, about that Jackson Pollock painting…”

[comebackali]

for our phantom menace rewatch this week we are doing a “qui gon touch count” to count how many times qui gon (bad) touches anakin

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

A collection of one shots and mini-series integrating the main character, Pocket, from Unwanted into the existing narratives of the MCU.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

In Which Pocket and Tony Have a Video Call. (04/22/24)

In Which Pocket Learns Tony is Missing in Afghanistan. (04/22/24)

In Which Pocket Travels to Afghanistan. (04/25/24)

In Which Pocket Meets the Avengers. (4/30/24)

In Which Pocket Tries to Stop Steve from Taking the Quinjet. (05/20/24)

[symphoniesoutofsilence]

Late night young Dooku headcanon because it's hotter than heck in this apartment:

Dooku was a good-looking young man, no one could deny that. However, it wasn't effortless; he spent much more time than Yoda would have liked fussing over his skin and hair, making sure to the best of his ability that none of the less-than-appealing signs of his teenagerhood slipped through the cracks.

Which means that whenever he didn't preen, which happened inevitably from time to time--on long missions with unfamiliar climates, there's rarely time and resources to shower properly, let alone moisturize your face--Dooku looked,,,less than perfect when he returned. It really wasn't that bad, a few zits, chapped lips, and hair that's managing to be both greasy and frizzy at the same time aren't the worst the galaxy has to offer, but Dooku noticably tried to avoid leaving the apartment until he had his appearance back under control; for someone so outwardly confident, he was surprisingly insecure.

(It didn't help matters that Sifo-Dyas didn't seem to struggle with this at all. You could put him on a humid planet with no temperature regulation and very limited amounts of shampoo and he'd still return with no more damage than a glowing complexion and slightly disheveled hair, charmingly boyish rather than gross--though honestly, the fact that he tended to smile where Dooku was usually scowling probably helped.)

[love-belle]

well, i'm still in love with you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them soft launching each other while driving their friends wild.

or

for when you're still in love with them and will be for forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - saw ur mom at the grocery store ·˚ ༘

warnings - language. suggestive jokes (???)

author's note - im so SORRY for not updating life is CRAZY rn like ???? so much has happened like im in LOVE im DONE with SCHOOL i have EXAMS SJSHSJSJKSKS im so sorry i hope u like this i love u all <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 1,725,819 others

yourusername he's in my head so much i might as well just give him some

11,628 comments

username HOLD UP

username im shaking in my big girl boots rn what the Fuck

username y/n ?????

username SCREECHING

username roman empire or roman empire

username IM DYING OH MY GOD

landonorris just because you can type something doesn't mean you SHOULD

-> yourusername shut up u literally sprouted like an unwanted weed and not even the good kind

-> yourusername i am sorry that was mean

-> landonorris 😕

-> username someone keep these two away from each other before y/n makes lando cry 😭

username live love laugh y/n y/l/n

username i need cameras recording their whole vacation !!!!!!!!!

username this whole holiday will be so much more entertaining than 90% of all the tv shows out there 😭😭

username lord i pray that this is about charles

maxverstappen1 you didn't hear it from me but he's giggling

-> yourusername tell him to stop giggling and help me chase those seagulls away

-> landonorris LEAVE MY SEAGULLS ALONE

-> yourusername THEY ATE MY SANDWICH

username rip y/n's hater girl era u will be missed 😞☝️

username i know charles is thoroughly enjoying this like

username i will get over a lot of things in life but i will never get over lando and max joining the y/l/n-leclerc vacation simply because they do not trust charles to do the sensible thing

-> yourusername actually they're all dumb

-> maxverstappen1 excuse you

-> yourusername u called grey "dark white"

-> maxverstappen1 I PAID TO KEEP QUIET

-> yourusername blocking out the haters 🫸🙄🫷

username forever entertained by this group they never disappoint

username need me a max and lando to get me a bf or whatever 🙄🙄🙄

username waiting for charles to come here and say some stupid shit before going on with my day !!!!

charles_leclerc i bet u think about me

-> yourusername nah bc no way ferrari can make u THIS delusional what's the cause

-> yourusername i am sorry i was told that i cannot say shit about ferrari clown private limited whatever corporation

-> username please never change

charles_leclerc i will make u pasta !!!!!!!!

-> yourusername no thank u i saw what happened to arthur

-> charles_leclerc THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT THE PASTA WAS NOT GOOD

-> yourusername skill issue

charles_leclerc where r u

-> yourusername why r u typing like that

-> charles_leclerc lando said it's cool

-> yourusername lando thinks birds don't have feet don't believe him

-> landonorris why am i catching strays

username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT CHARLES LIED TO GET MAX AND LANDO ON VACATION 😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,167,926 others

charles_leclerc we'd still worship this love

12,628 comments

username NAH WHO IS THIS MAN

username OH ??????

username false god lyrics imma die 🤣🤣🤣

username y/n effect is so real

username PLEASE NOT CHARLES SOFT LAUNCHING HIS EX 😭😭😭

-> username y'all put some respect on my girl's name 😭

-> yourusername i am no one's ex i will sue u for defamation

-> charles_leclerc for legal reasons she's JOKING

-> yourusername how do U know that tf

-> username i missed this

username hshshdjssjdjsjjsajjn;;;;;;;;bwywuuaj;...

username crying this is everything i've prayed for

username no one's mentioning the fact that charles wasn't even supposed to go on the vacation 😭😭😭

-> landonorris he booked his tickets and acted like it was a mistake

-> charles_leclerc you're a mistake

-> username and THAT'S how i know y/n and charles are back together 🤞🤞🤞

username i need a documentary on this vacation u don't GET it

username max and lando we trust u

maxverstappen1 you just pushed your love in water

-> charles_leclerc she told me i looked like tweety from looney toons

-> maxverstappen1 well

username crying i love every second of this

username i need to study this man's brain under a microscope like

-> username his thought process is just so UNIQUE

username i need them to confirm their relationship so i can breathe a sigh of relief thank u

username need me a man who posts like this

yourusername told u taylor swift songs slap

-> charles_leclerc highkey

yourusername i'm the most hilarious person ever idk why ur mad

-> charles_leclerc you called me tweety

-> yourusername hilarious

-> charles_leclerc my lover's got humour

-> yourusername OMGGGGG

yourusername we might just get away with this

-> charles_leclerc i told you, if you commit murder i will NOT be an accomplice

-> yourusername those are lyrics but fuck u too i guess

username i prayed for times like this 🤞🤞

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 1,972,628 others

yourusername well i'm still in love with u 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (❤️)

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,126,891 others

charles_leclerc 2 out of 262819 photos where she stole my phone and the one (1) photo with me in it like okaaaaaaaaaay (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️)

tagged yourusername

12,728 comments

username NAHHH WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO TYPE LIKE THAT

username PLEASE OMG

username andddddddd we're 🔙 to having charles have a breakdown every single time y/n (HIS GIRLFRIEND) interacts with him

username god heard my prayers

username why do i have a feeling lando and max went EXTREME

-> yourusername if u call pushing us both off the yacht and not letting us back on until we said "hiiiiii" civilly to each other extreme, then yes. they were EXTREME.

-> charles_leclerc still mad about it. i said "hiiiii 😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘" and you said "hi 😐😐😐😐."

-> yourusername sorry i was too busy finding ways to poison u then ❤️❤️❤️ im good and better now ❤️❤️❤️ (police and officials LOOK AWAY)

-> username netflix needs to leave dts and document THIS

username someone should write a book on this vacation and it should be max ☝️☝️☝️

username WAR IS OVERRRRR

username they're BACK god bless

username the way i KNOW charles is thanking max and lando on his knees like homeboy would be stuck without them fr

-> danielricciardo excuse you i was the mastermind

-> landonorris you literally did nothing except sit on ft for hours and yell at us.

-> danielricciardo tell that to all those thank you texts (money) charles sent me

-> landonorris YOU TOLD ME NO ONE WILL BE GETTING PAID charles_leclerc

-> charles_leclerc i sent him $1 because heidi asked me to

-> heidiberger_ he threatened to fly out to italy i did everyone a favour

username the y/n effect is coming back with full throttle like yeaaaaaaaaah

username i need a trilogy on this vacation like i need EVERYTHING

username the way i KNOW both of their families just rejoiced like they were going through it 😭😭😭

username everyday i wake up and thank the lord and heavens for daniel ricciardo, max verstappen and lando norris

yourusername i look so good wtfff

-> charles_leclerc yes you do 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

yourusername bébé ( baby )

-> charles_leclerc mon ange ( my angel )

yourusername soulmates 4 sure

-> charles_leclerc 👍

-> username lord i am not your strongest soldier

-> username why is he like this 😭😭😭

yourusername lowk missed taking 26271727 selfies on ur phone

-> charles_leclerc missed seeing your pretty face every time i opened my gallery 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username y/n never leave him again please

-> username my man's TRAUMATISED

[seresinhangmanjake]

He Will Hope

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: Feyd is obsessed with his bride from the moment he sees her, but on their wedding night he finds out she might not feel the same. (Angst, but hopeful ending)

Warnings/Notes: Feyd POV, pre-smut and smutty-ish intentions (if that makes sense? idk, ignore me), instantly-in-love Feyd, unwanted marriage, baby(heir) talk, typos. Can absolutely be read alone, but also serves as something of a prequel to Do You Love? (same world, but big time skip), so I tried to kind of echo that with specific lines.

Words: 1500

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You’re so…beautiful. He didn’t expect a peace offering to be this perfect. Yes, he knew his bride would be a daughter of a Great House, but you are one of many sisters and Feyd did not imagine your father would send him the loveliest of his bunch. 

It’s a loveliness that has you sticking out like a sore thumb on Giedi Prime. Hair and makeup and wedding dress styled in the traditions of your home world glue all eyes to you as you walk down the aisle, and he likes that there is so much attention on you. It makes his inability to cease staring more acceptable. 

Harkonnens are not meant to be enthralled by their brides at first glance. Discouraged, even, from caring about their appearance at all. ‘Brides are meant for breeding,’ his uncle told him as a child, ‘It does not matter what they look like.’ But he was not told what to do or how to act in the event the bride makes his heart involuntarily skip a beat. 

Maybe if your heart was reacting in the same manner navigating this new feeling would be less intimidating, but the tears streaming down your cheeks suggest that's far from the case. You can barely look at him and he’s not sure you would be able to speak if it was required of you, but thankfully, verbal agreements are not part of marriage ceremonies on Giedi Prime. 

When he takes hold of your hand and slices your palm with his knife, you give no indication of pain. You are supposed to do the same to him but you seem nervous enough as it is, so he makes the three-inch long slash in his skin for you before pressing his palm against yours. The mixing of blood is a swearing of fidelity from husband to wife and wife to husband; a tradition and promise that wore down with time as concubines became more common. But he will not do that to you. You will be his one, his only, and if he can help it, he will be yours. 

He barely detects the words declaring you married. They're dull and bubbly in his ears as if he's sunk under the surface of his bath water because he's too focused on your mouth. Your plush lips are pink and plump and glistening, and he wants them. So he takes them before he's told to do so.

You taste different than the Harkonnen women he’s had. There is salt from tears, but something distinctly you seeps through. It's sweeter. A bit intoxicating. The kind of taste that collars and leashes the unruliest of men, and he wants more. Much more. But there are too many eyes, some of which are full of relief at the match finally solidified while others are prying and suspicious. If he keeps his lips on yours too long, questions will begin to form from certain witnesses—Does he like her? Does he want her? Can she be used? Can she control him?—and the answer will be plainly obvious.

When he breaks the kiss, your eyelashes flutter with the gentle opening of your eyes and he knows then that nothing—no convincing from advisors, no threats from his uncle, no hatred on your end—could ever have him willing to detach himself and use you for the sake of an heir only to discard you later. You are his wife now, you will be the Baroness upon his uncle’s death, and he will protect you from anyone who values you for the sole purpose of providing a child. 

—

He sees that your assigned servants have quickly learned to manage your hair and clothing. By the time they deliver you to him, the pins have been removed from the twist on your head, letting the strands hang loose to frame your face, and you’ve been unstitched from that heavy gown to be dressed in night clothes from your home. He provided you with a nightgown, so he wonders if wearing the thin dress was your choice or your parents' idea to make you undeniably enticing, but either way, it’s effective. 

What drapes over your body is nothing like the opaque blacks and straight lines of Harkonnen attire. It's intricate both in color and design; flowing fabric that shimmers when you make the slightest movements and, at the moment, does little to hide your shape and curves. 

As you stand in front of him, patiently awaiting instructions, he can only stare at what’s on display. Pebbled nipples, a plane of smooth skin down to your navel, your slit and the folds between your legs—he wants it all. All of you. Now. Here. Wherever he can have you. 

Rising from the chair where he’d been waiting, he dissolves the space between you. His arm snakes around your waist. His hand slides across your cheek to the back of your head. Lips slam into yours, chests meeting despite that sliver of fabric, and he tastes that taste again, instinctually feeling a need to lift his chin, bare his neck, and let you tighten that collar.

It takes you a few seconds but when your lips start to move, he kisses you harder, pulls you closer, weaves his fingers through your hair and lightly tugs. He guides you backward toward the bed, skin warming at the image of sliding the nightgown down your body. That warmth fans into pure fire and he can’t stop kissing you, can’t stop taking from you, collecting what little you’re willing to give him. Two of his fingers tuck themselves under one strap of the nightgown and begin to slip it down your shoulder. 

But then he stops. 

He stops because your lips freeze.

He stops because you're starting to shake under his fingertips.

He pulls back to look at you and it’s undeniable, so terribly undeniable, and he feels a bit ill. “You don’t want this,” he states. 

You don’t answer; you just stare up at him with those doe eyes that he can now see are full of fear, and his heart squeezes. His gut tightens. He suddenly has the urge to throw things, break things, watch things shatter to pieces because you don’t want him. His own wife doesn’t want his touch and he does not like this—not at all—but you’re scared, and he doesn’t like that even more. 

Sighing, he resets the strap on your shoulder, drops his hands from your body, and steps away. 

“I'll leave you alone,” he says. But as he passes by you, you grab onto his wrist. 

“We have to,” you rush out. “They'll know if we don't.”

He shakes his head. “They won't know anything that happens between us unless I allow it,” he tells you.

“B–But they expect an heir.”

“Yes. And eventually, we will have to produce one. That does not mean we have to share a bed tonight if that is not what you want, and it's clear that is not what you want,” he says a little too harshly. He isn’t trying to be snippy, none of this is your fault, but it hurts, and not in the way he enjoys.

You suck in a sharp breath as if preparing to argue, but then something shifts in your eyes. Instead, you say, “Where will you go?”

“The adjoining room,” he answers, nudging his head to the door on the opposite wall: the room for the concubines that he will never take. You turn to get a look.

“Oh,” you swallow. “O-Ok.” 

He grants himself a few more moments to study you, to soak in your soft and delicate features and the swollen lips he cannot have before he walks away, leaving you behind for the bed he had no intention of ever sleeping in. 

When he reaches the door, he glances over his shoulder to get one last look. You’re facing away from him, sitting on the mattress with your head low, your back arched forward and arms wrapped around your middle. You look small like that, slowly huddling into a ball, and he’d do anything to make it stop. Because you are his. His wife. His na-Baroness. He’s well aware he’ll fall for you in no time—it’s already begun—and he wants you to be happy with him. 

But you're not. And that already threatens the predictability of your future together. These foreign feelings he has for you are not guaranteed to be requited; something he isn't sure how to accept, and yet he may not have a choice. He cannot force your affection. He cannot demand you grow to love him. All he can do is try and hope that one day, he will win you over.

So that is what he does.

---

@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t

[todayontumblr]

Thursday, September 14.

A love letter to Hayden Christensen. *Ahsoka spoilers*

Be still, beating heart.

Be still, beating heart, because pov: you are but a wee youngling at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and Hayden Christensen is stalking the Temple hallways, lightsaber in tow. For reasons unbeknownst to you, he is *pissed*. The slightest sound, like that of, say, a beating heart, could attract unwanted attention.

And to be fair, #hayden christensen has had more reason to be pissed than most: vilified for playing a villain, for his portrayal of Anakin Skywalker in the Star Wars prequels, and the receiver of a particularly cruel kicking from the internet in the years that followed. Time, however, has been kind to Christensen—and in more ways than one. He and his Anakin Skywalker have come to be beloved across the web, and the world wider #star wars fandom. Naturally, of course, Tumblr's fandom community love him to bits. And quite rightly.

Now, it is genuinely heart-warming to see the regard in which he is held by Star Wars fans for his iconic take on the tormented young man who came to be Vader. 

Be still, because lovely things can happen to anyone. Even Sith Lords x

[imyourbratzdoll]

Can you do one we’re Lloyd is getting married to y/n but her ex crashes the venue?

hello, sorry this took so long! I hope you liked what I came up with.

prequel

summary - an unwanted ex crashes your wedding and exposes your kinky ways to your soon-to-be husband, do you think the wedding was called off?

warning - angst, fluff, talk of being fucked by something, sexual talk, gun talk, special guest.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

His eyes were so warm and intense on you that you were sure he could read all your thoughts, everything you felt about him, written in your pupils. Lloyd smiled, opening his mouth as he began his vows.

“I’m so happy I met you, Pumpkin. I remember when I first saw you. You were walking through a field of flowers, wearing a pretty white dress and a daisy in your hair. At that moment, I knew I had to get to know you, and I couldn’t let someone so beautiful slip through my fingers.” He smiles, eyes staring intensely into yours, which happened to be filled with happy tears. Lloyd clears his throat, making sure his voice doesn’t crack as he continues. “I want to cook you dinner, even though I can’t. I want to tuck you into bed and make sure you sleep okay every night, all the time. I want to play with your hair until you fall asleep. I want to cuddle you for hours or get lost travelling with you. I want to be at dinner with you, somewhere different and move my hand up your legs.” As he says this, Lloyd wiggles his brows. “I want to fuck you till you can’t move. I want to punish you just because I fucking can, and I promise, Pumpkin, that I will love you for eternity, and if I somehow upset you and break my vows, you can shoot me wherever you want.” 

A soft smile appears on your face, but as you open your mouth, about to respond, you are interrupted by someone slowly clapping. You and Lloyd turn your head, and your eyes widen as your ex-boyfriend Ransom freaking Drysdale stands there. 

Ransom grins, “I gotta say, those were some awesome fucking vows.” He strolls forward, winking as he takes a swig from the whiskey bottle in his hand. Your hand quickly reaches out to stop Lloyd from grabbing the gun in his waistband. “Aww, is the big guy getting mad? Scared she’s going to come running back to me? I mean, I wouldn’t blame her. All those nights together, mmm.” He exaggerates a moan, eyes rolling back as he tries to get under Lloyd’s skin.

“What do you want, Ransom?” You huff, arms folding in front of your chest as the happiness you were feeling slowly gets sucked out of you. “How the hell did you even know I was here?” The feeling of Lloyd’s arm wrapping around you spreads secureness throughout your body.

Ransom smiles, “Your little bridesmaid there, get her going enough, and she’ll happily spill your whereabouts.” His eyes stare you down, looking for a flare of jealousy to spark in your eyes, but all he’s met with is disgust. His eyes move over to the red-faced bridesmaid, giving her a smirk. “C’mon, why don’t you tell the bride all of the things you let me do to you that made you spill.”

“Ransom. That’s enough. What do you want?” The rage building inside of you was becoming too much. Your fingers twitch as you itch to reach behind and grab Lloyd’s gun. Not even his hold is comforting you, and that’s the scary part. You swear you can feel him press a soft kiss against your head, whispering sweet words, but you can’t be sure as redness tries to take over.

“Well, Kitten. I want you back.” He rolls his eyes, drinking from the bottle. A giant grin appears on his face when Lloyd grunts and his sharp blue eyes make their way over to Lloyd’s. “Hey, buddy! I got a question for ya!” Ransom strides closer, tapping Lloyd’s cheek as he speaks but huffs when his hand is swiped away. “Jeez, calm down.” Ransom pouts, not expecting you people to be so rude. 

“Are you guys as kinky in bed as we once were?” The smirk on his face says it all, and your eyes widen knowing where he’s going with this. “You all wanna hear what I fucked her with?” He spins, speaking to everyone in the room. Some eyes and mouths were wide open, and some gasped. They’d probably gasp more if he said what he fucked you with. Ransom turns, staring you deep into your eyes. “Should I tell them, Kitten? You think he’d still want you after knowing how much of a whore you really are?”

You shake your head, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes as you think back to the night he was talking about. You and Lloyd aren’t vanilla at all but for him to hear this on your wedding day from your ex wasn’t something you wanted to happen. Ransom nods, taking your silence and turns to look Lloyd in the eyes with a dark smirk.

“You ever fuck her with a lollipop?” Lloyd’s brows shoot up, his head moving to look at you, wondering why he hasn’t even thought of that yet. “Ah! You haven’t?” Ransom chuckles, forcing his whiskey into a random person’s arms before he excitedly claps. “Fuck! I did that. I fucked her with a lollipop. She liked it, though. She liked it a lot!” His eyes never leave Lloyd’s as he says this. Ransom licks his lips as he thinks of how hot you looked, sprawled out, little whines escaping you as he thrusts the small lolly into your dripping hole. 

Ransom looks at you, his eyes piercing through you. “I can’t stop thinking of you and that lollipop.” He groans, head thrown back as he continues. “Jesus, do you know how fucking sexy you looked, letting me fuck you with it. Remember when you had a taste?” Ransom licks his lips, raising a brow as your eyes dart down. “Of course you do, Kitten. You were begging for that taste, the best fucking taste out there. A bit of cherry mixed with you. Fuck! I’m getting so fucking hard thinking about it.” His hand reaches down and grabs his junk, “Why stay with a boring man like Lloyd Hansen when you can have me back, Kitten? Don’t you miss me?” 

“No, Ransom. I don’t miss you, and there’s a reason I’m marrying Lloyd instead of you.” Your glare is set on the man. His brow raises as he waits for you to come up with an excuse. “No woman wants a man who has his eyes on every woman.” 

Lloyd looks down at you. Leaning forward, he places a soft kiss against your head before turning and grabbing Ransom by his throat. The sound of choking can be heard as Lloyd walks Ransom out of the area and throws him to the side. He leans down. “You ever come near us again, and I’ll put a bullet in your head.” As he stands, he kicks Ransom in the side before walking back to where you stand, and Lloyd can see how worried you are that he wouldn’t come back.

“You ready to become Mrs Hansen, Pumpkin?” Lloyd smiles when a bright smile appears on your face. He walks over to you and brings you into his arms. “You’re lucky. I love you.” He warns. “Because I wouldn’t stand for it otherwise.”

You grin, resting your chin on his chest as you look up at him. “You’re lucky. I love you. Because you’re a total asshole, and there aren’t a lot of girls who’d put up with it.” Lloyd looks down at you, shocked, but it’s soon replaced with a loving smile.

The priest clears his voice. “After that… Lovely interruption. Would you two like to continue?” The two of you look at one another. Hands interlocked as you nod. 

The wedding may not have been one of a fairytale, but Lloyd did get to test out that lollipop.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Unwanted Attention [Hotch x Reader]

Prompt: Having to travel to the middle of nowhere Ohio for a serial killer was bad enough, add to the fact that the local LEOs are looking a little too hard at JJ, Emily, and _y/n_ was seriously testing Aaron’s resolve. Lots of protective Hotch here! This is another @imagining-in-the-margins inspired fic for her Meet Cute Writing Challenge. I’m using the dialogue prompt: “Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”

Category: Angst/comfort - (mostly comfort I think).

Word Count: 5.8K

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence (serial killer - kills via strangulation but nothing explicit) unwanted physical touch (groping of the behind and pubic area) misogyny, sexism, the U.S. police, language, brief mention of intimacy. 

A/N: Hi friends! I am very pleased with this one. I love writing Hotch with righteous anger. It just looks too damn good on him. I also love the duality of this man because one moment he is ready to bite someone’s head off and the next he only has eyes for you and he’s checking in and feeling guilty. You could read this story as a standalone or as a prequel to my story, Life can be Terrible, but At Least You're In It. (linked). I want to shout out @criminalskies for hyping me up while writing this. Last, if you enjoyed reading this, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - Levi 

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

_f/c_ = favorite color 

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/h/c_ = yuur hair color 

Walnut Creek Ohio, who on the team had heard of it? Well apart from Spencer, because apparently he’d read a United States Atlas Map one night when his insomnia was bothering him, and he had retained all the information about nearly every tiny town that existed in the States. Spencer was rambling off facts about the tiny town stating, “There are 908 residents in the town as of 2017. It’s shocking that a serial killer would target such a small community where everyone has to know everyone else.” y/n, JJ, and Reid were all at the coffee station filling up cups. y/n pulled out her _f/c_ thermos. She always made sure that anyone who wanted coffee got to go first because her reusable metal container took about half the pot. y/n had finally wisened up after Emily and Spencer kept complaining about the coffee getting lukewarm, or worse, cold while sitting on the plane. Now her coffee stayed hot for hours if need be. She had bought the teammates that relied as heavily on caffeine as she did as Holiday or birthday gifts and the thermoses were stored away in one of her closets of her apartment, ready to be taken out and wrapped at the right moment. Spencer’s comment pulled her back to the present moments and she replied, “Nothing can stop a person going bad I guess. Not even a small town.” This stopped Spencer's comments on the location of the team's most recent case, and he shifted gears to talk about the psychological development of those raised in rural environments versus those raised in urban areas. y/n continued to listen to Spencer as he spoke, even if she couldn’t always keep up with his mile-a-minute commentary. She listened because Reid was a fount of knowledge and often a comment he made and maybe didn’t even remember would be helpful later on in the case. She also listened because sometimes the other members of the team didn’t when he spoke. It wasn’t that they didn’t think that what he was saying was important, it was just that they were trying to come up with their own thoughts and theories about the case. y/n was also guilty of tuning Reid out sometimes, but when she could listen to him, she did. 

y/n had always been more of a listener than one to contribute to the conversation early on. y/n felt better about talking once she had more information and that normally wasn’t until the team arrived at the case's location or even saw the first crime scene. Once y/n had the bigger picture, she was ready and able to hope in and give her thoughts. Before that time came, she would listen and think about her prior knowledge. Although it might be less exciting than guessing and formulating theories, she found that often some basic information or past cases or criminals was useful when leads dropped or the case seemed to go cold. In her process, she was thinking about the future. As she had integrated into the team full-time at the beginning, Derek teased her for writing so much down in a notebook. She highlighted any relevant information the team stated or facts that seemed relevant. Morgan had joked in good humor but as the first few cases came to a close, the whole team slowly realized that she was approaching these cases from another angle, one that proved to be highly valuable at important points.  

y/n settled next to Emily at her desk and pulled her go bag from underneath the space. The sound of Aaron’s door closing caught y/n’s attention. He was wearing that maroon tie she liked so much. She hadn’t told him that yet, it felt too trivial, but she really liked that tie on him. Aaron caught her eye for a moment and there was a small twinge in her chest before they quickly, discreetly looked away. Nobody knew that they were spending time together outside of work. They had to be discreet because it was mixing work and pleasure and in a place like the FBI, that didn’t just fly. y/n was sure Hotch knew everything about the rules and consequences of breaking those rules, but he hadn’t filled her in on those details. She had looked at the employee handbook but it was all legalese and it hurt her head. If she and Aaron did become more serious, and committed, she would ask him to interpret the confusing language for her. Thankfully they weren’t having a hard time keeping their work and private lives separate, yet. 

Aaron felt the normal thrill of heading out to a new case. He considered the word, ‘thrill,’ thinking it wasn’t the perfect synonym for the arrival of yet another slew of murders, but it certainly wasn’t excitement either. Excitement meant something happy, something to look forward to. ‘Energized,’ his brain offered. Mentally Aaron nodded along, That would work for now. He had to be energized for this work. He wasn’t a young man anymore but there had to be a strength and calmness with him. He was the leader and even with Rossi being on the team for over a year, his agents still looked to him to make this all work. His eyes found y/n’s and there he found the look of thrill. This was still so new to her, even though she had been on the team for a while. He looked away as always, not giving into any desires that lingered when he was paying attention to his newest agent. He was grateful that y/n was professional and polite and had the utmost decorum even though outside of work they hadn’t been entirely professional. The thought of their last non-work meeting at her apartment and her heavy breathing and soft sounds on her lips, as he worked over her clothed body with his hands brought a momentatry flush to his face. 

Hotch sobered as quickly as he had flushed as Dave came up beside him and said, “You ready for this?” Aaron looked over to his friend and bluntly replied, “As ready as possible, but it's still never easy.” Rossi nodded along as they both moved down the stairs and toward the parking lot. This line of work wasn’t easy. Aaron knew that every time his team left for a new case there was a chance that someone might get hurt, or even killed and no matter how good everyone was at their job, that possibility still worried him. y/n’s face popped up in his mind as he found his seat in the jet and he pushed away the thought. His relationship with her had shifted to something he wasn’t entirely sure he had under control. They hadn’t made anything official and hadn’t even said, “I love you,” yet. However, Hotch wasn’t a man who moved quickly, but as long as he and y/n had an open, honest conversation about where their feelings were headed, he wasn’t going to fight it. He had fought so many things, and people in his life that he didn’t have the desire to fight this too. Being around y/n felt good. It felt safe and he rarely got that in his life, so he was embracing it where he could. As JJ went over more of the facts and details regarding the case involving a serial killer wreaking havoc in the tiny town in Ohio, he shifted his full attention to what his media liaison was saying. 

As the jet landed on the tiny airstrip, everyone got out and into the waiting SUVs. Aaron drove with Emily, Spencer, and JJ while Rossi took y/n and Derek. Spencer and Emily were discussing the need to work well with the law enforcement in the town as they were likely ingratiate into all aspects of the community. Meanwhile, JJ was preparing a statement for the media. In the other car, Derek turned from the front seat and asked, “So what are we thinking in terms of prior knowledge _y/n_?” y/n turned her gaze to Morgan’s and said, “Well strangulation is such a common signature that we’re going to have to look for something more specific to get traction here. The photos do look like this guy is strangling people from behind and the unsubs killing fit men someone who doesn't want to face what they’re really doing? Or it could be that they despise their victims so much they can’t stand to see them again, even while killing them?” Morgan nodded and elaborated on the idea that the killer might see these men as a competition of some kind. As having something the unsub lacked. This information allowed those in Rossi’s car to start to form a physical profile of the unsub. As the team made it to the small local police station, everyone got out of the parked cars and a man who appeared to be in his fifties who was balding badly came out to greet them. 

Aaron stepped forward and extended his hand. The man took it and gave it a firm shake, saying, “I’m Officer Bronson. Thank you so much for you folks from coming out here.” Aaron nodded, replying, “I’m Agent, Hotchner and this is my team.” He indicated to the team, quickly introducing them. First, he gestured to JJ stating, “This is our media liaison, Jennifer Jareau.” JJ stepped forward and took the man’s slightly sweaty hand. Aaron moved through the rest of the team quickly, wanting to get the introductions over with and the real work started. He motioned to each of his agents saying, “This is David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid, _y/n_ _l/n_, and Emily Prentiss.” Each member nodded as Hotch said their name and Officer Bronson replied, Well welcome to Walnut Creek. I wish it was under happier circumstances. I’ll let you all get inside and out of this heat.” As the team moved into the small building, Aaron asked, “Is there a space where we can get organized and look at the evidence more easily?” Bronson nodded and led the team to a table at the back of a very small station and said, “Sorry it’s nothing fancy. I’ll have someone clean off the files and stuff off for you.” The man turned and semi-shouted, “Anderson, can you clear your junk off this table?” Anderson, a thirty-something-year-old moved around the team and got his things saying, “Sorry Chief.” Bronson looked to Aaron, almost for approval, and asked, “Will this do?” To which Hotch simply replied, “It’s fine.” 

As the team settled a little y/n looked at JJ with a ‘Are you kidding me?’ expression and then looked at Anderson who was placing his numerous files on another table. JJ rolled her eyes in return. The fact that one of the officers had open files possibly containing sensitive or private data out on a table for anyone in the room to see displayed the station's lack of professionalism. The team worked up a preliminary profile and Aaron told Officer Bronson that they were ready to address his unit. Bronson called his team to the side of the room and as the officers sat down, Aaron moved forward saying, “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for your attention. My name is Aaron Hotchner and I’m the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. This is my team, and we’re here to coordinate with you to try and stop these killings as quickly as possible. If you have any questions please hold them to the end. We appreciate you working with us, and now I’ll let Derek Morgan deliver our preliminary profile to you.” 

Aaron stepped aside to let Derek deliver the profile. Hotch had asked Morgan to deliver the profile because something about the officers sitting in front of him didn’t seem like they were convinced that they needed the team's help. Given the fact that Derek was the closest in age to many of the officers, and he could be just as intense as Aaron if he wanted, Aaron thought that the men would respect Morgan over someone like himself or Rossi. It helped that Morgan also looked more like the policemen now listening with unveiled trepidation about the profile. This was another part of the job that Aaron disliked. He not only had to profile the unsub but the law enforcement officers as well. His team and the local authorities had to work together due to bureaucratic rulings and sometimes the officers didn’t want the Bau's assistance. The idea that the team was ‘taking over’ or ‘standing on their turf’ often caused conflict. Aaron always tried to nip this conflict early. His team didn’t need to worry about that and quite frankly they all had better things to do. Aaron looked at the ten seated men, as he listened to Morgan. Most of the officers were looking at Derek, but one or two were consistently looking over at JJ, y/n, and Emily. Aaron clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to sigh. He could tell whatever conflict his team and this police unit were going to have would be an uphill battle. 

Hotch noticed when the men he was working with paid a little too much attention to members of his team. Hotch couldn’t deny that y/n, JJ, and Emily were all beautiful, intelligent, and capable and that combination was attractive. However, that did not give these men a right to act lewdly or leer at them. As Derek wrapped up the profile, he fielded a few questions from the assembled crowd. With that, Chief Bronson dismissed his men. Aaron gathered the team and they broke into smaller units to look for any clues that might bring them closer to finding the unsub. Aaron, Spencer, and y/n were headed to the high school which was the scene of the latest killing. Rossi and Morgan were headed to the hospital to see the bodies of the victims to determine if there was more to the signature than just strangulation. Lastly, JJ and Emily were going to go to the press to provide a statement for the townspeople who were panicking and holding up the police phones making those who really needed help unable to get it. 

In the evening as the team regrouped at the station, there was the kind of frantic energy they got once the case had really started. y/n had lots of thoughts and was ready to see what the rest of the team had discovered. She knew she wasn’t going to see much sleep tonight, so she moved to the break room where the coffee pots normally were in police stations. As she approached the room she began to overhear a conversation going on inside. The snippet she heard was, “So who are you picking, Blondie, Brunette, or _y/h/c_?” There was a laugh before the other man in the room began saying, “What about all three?” There was more laughter at this and as the unseen man began saying, “But if you’re really making me choose…” y/n walked quickly away before she could hear the answer. As she moved back to the team she thought, ‘These guys really have no standards.’ She felt slightly repulsed but did her best to ignore the feeling. As she stepped back to the table, and Aaron looked over at her, he could see that something was wrong. A few minutes later, when he was finished listening to Spencer’s geographic profile, Hotch moved to stand next to y/n. In a quiet volume, he asked, “Is everything okay?” y/n looked up at him. His expression had the smallest hint of worry,  and she alleviated that fear by saying, “Yeah. It’s nothing.” Aaron nodded and said, “Okay. Tell me more about what you were saying to Derek about the point of impact, we might be able to get a height on the unsub with that information.” y/n nodded and jumped into the conversation. Aaron could tell that something was off about y/n, but he wouldn’t push it. He trusted her to handle things herself and if she needed to, he knew she would ask for help. 

The night wore on and eventually, the team moved to the tiny hotel the town had. There were barely enough rooms to fit them all. The town was very cozy and picturesque in its quaintness. y/n thought about this as she drove Derek and Rossi to the hotel. She assumed it was a nice place to grow up in. To grow old in. y/n wasn’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, but she chalked it up to tiredness and the case. Because for seven men there would be no growing old here or anywhere. The sadness of that realization only made her want to solve this case more badly. There were always a lot of emotions tied to the cases they worked on, and to protect herself, she had to try and stay disconnected from the pain and hurt that the victims and the victims' families went through. But she couldn’t always hold back those emotions and now was one of those times. As everyone settled in for the night and said their goodnights, which just meant ‘I’ll be sitting up in bed reading over the same evidence as you one door down,’ Aaron walked over to y/n and said, “Goodnight, y/n.” His brief interaction with her at the precinct from earlier in the day flashed in his head. He didn’t like it when she looked upset. It made him feel nervous, so he asked, “You’d tell me if something was wrong? Wouldn’t you?” The question came out of left field and y/n blinked for a moment, not really knowing why Aaron was asking. At this point, she had sort of forgotten the rude comments being made by the officers, so she replied, “Of course I would Aaron.” At her response, Hotch infinitesimally relaxed and the two headed for the elevator together. Rossi had seen the interaction between them. He didn’t hear what they said, or that y/n had used Hotch’s first name, but he couldn't help but feel that something was there between the two agents. Perhaps it was the way Aaron leaned down a little bit to be in earshot, or the way y/n looked at his friend like nothing else around her mattered. David wouldn’t say anything yet, but he was sure he was going to start paying more attention to Aaron. Rossi wasn’t against whatever was happening between his coworkers. Aaron had had a rough few months, and he thought the man deserved some comfort.

In the morning most of the team was out hunting leads. Derek and y/n had stayed back for a minute because _y/n_ thought she had seen something new in the geographical profile. They would both head to the sight of the first body once she had looked at the board again. y/n was standing, looking at the map, engrossed in the pins Spencer had pushed into all the significant locations thus far. She just barely acknowledged when Morgan said he was going to use the men’s room. She also didn’t notice when one of the officers came up behind her. The man extended a hand and grabbed her ass giving it a squeeze. At the unwanted touch, y/n whipped around saying, “Hey!” The phrases echoed around the nearly empty office. She looked at the man, clocking his name on his badge, Monroe. There was a moment of silence before y/n incredulously said, “What was that?” Monroe gave a laugh and said, “Sorry, babe. I thought you were interested.” With that, the officer quickly left, as he noticed Derek coming back from the bathroom. Monroe nearly brushed shoulders with Morgan as they both tried to fit through the door at the same time.

When Derek got into the room, he noticed that something was off about y/n. She was standing still with a look of shock and disgust on her face. y/n tried to fix her facial features back to normal, but Morgan had seen and quickly strode into the room next to her. Derek looked her over quickly and asked, “y/n, what’s wrong?” y/n looked to the floor for a second, biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t really believe what had just happened. For a moment she thought about lying but knew that Morgan would keep asking until she gave in. She sighed and looked up at Morgan’s worried face, saying, “That guy just groped me.” At hearing this, Morgan turned on his heel, but Officer Monroe was halfway out the door with Officer Anderson. They were both laughing at some unheard joke. It took everything in Derek to not go over to the two men and give Monroe an unadulterated piece of his mind. However, he knew that wasn’t his place really. And he wanted to make sure y/n was okay. He turned back to _y/n_ and asked, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” y/n nodded her head no, saying, “No. I was just shocked, I guess.” Morgan nodded along and said, “It shouldn’t have happened, period. You need to tell Hotch.” y/n’s widened at the suggestion. It made sense of course. Issues like this were under his purview, but for some reason telling him about this made her hesitate. Before she could think about it too much Morgan repeated himself saying, “Hotch would want to know.” y/n put her palms up and said, “Fine, fine. I’ll tell him when he gets back.” Morgan gave her a look that made her say, “I promise I’ll tell him.” After a second of picturing that uncomfortable forthcoming conversation y/n said, “He’s gonna be so mad.” Derek could understand what y/n was saying but noted, “Maybe, but not at you, y/n.” There was another awkward silence before Derek finally said, “Do you need a few minutes, or would you like to head out?” Desperate for a distraction y/n, almost too quickly replied, “No. let’s go.” 

At the supermarket where the first victim had been found. Morgan and y/n took notes and got the security footage. It seems like they had a real lead by finding the license plate of the van that had dumped the deceased man in the alleyway near the store's load bay. However, the footage was too grainy to make out. After finishing watching the video, y/n moved to call Garcia and see if she could enhance the video quality while Derek asked the security guard who had found the victim in the morning some questions. When she wrapped up her call with Garcia, y/n briefly slumped against the outside wall; closing her eyes. She tried to think about why talking to Hotch about what had happened with Monroe was bothering her so much. She knew that Derek was right. Hotch wouldn’t be mad at her, at all. Maybe it was a feeling of embarrassment? y/n’s logical side of her brain said that she didn’t need to be embarrassed. She hadn’t groped anyone, but the feeling persisted. Maybe because talking about the incident meant being vulnerable in front of Aaron which was all fine and good when they were alone in her apartment. But having to do so at work was entirely different. y/n let out a breath deciding to push all her feelings back for a moment. She would deal with it later. For now, she moved back inside the rendezvous with Morgan. 

‘Later’ came as it always did. It was around five o’clock and the whole team was reconvening at the station. As the SUVs arrived one by one in the parking lot, everyone got out. y/n looked over the team. They all looked a little tired, but when didn’t they on a case? y/n felt the fatigue pull at her, but she knew she would find a second wind once she heard what everyone else had found out. She knew this unsub was here lurking in this little town, ready to kill again. She looked over to Aaron who was speaking to Emily about something. y/n desperately wanted coffee and she walked toward the front door as she got close, Officer Monroe walked out the door. His badge was off and it was clear that he was headed home for the day. y/n wondered if the man had a wife? Kids? The idea of it only made her more disgusted. As they neared each other she refused to make room for him on the sidewalk. She’d make him move aside for her. She wasn’t, however, going to look at him. y/n planted her gaze on the sidewalk. Much like Monroe’s unwanted touch that morning, she didn’t expect to walk into him full force. When she turned her face to the man he said, “Hey, watch where you’re going, sweetheart.” y/n could see that Monroe was actually enjoying this and she replied, “You ran into me!” Monroe smiled at seeing this woman like this -- uncomfortable. He had enjoyed the rush of her skin under his hands, and now he hoped for a repeat performance. Hardly thinking that there were others looking on, he quickly and forcefully placed a hand on her navel and then brushed downward. y/n stood stock still as this happened because she thought that it couldn’t possibly be happening. Not here in public, in broad daylight, in front of the whole team? It just couldn’t be happening. 

Aaron was chatting with Emily about the profile as he looked over the team to see how they were doing. As he looked at Morgan, and Morgan returned his gaze with a facial expression that said, ‘We need to talk.’ Aaron gave the man a nod and Morgan looked over to y/n who was walking forward the precinct. Her shoulders seemed pulled tight under her shirt but in a way that hid that she was trying to hide her stress. He watched as she walked into one of the police officers from yesterday who had been overly enthused by y/n, Prentiss, and JJ’s presence.  Aaron could barely hear the brief conversation between the two and as the word, “Sweetheart,” was thrown out, Aaron stiffened. And then it happened. He couldn’t fully see where or how far down the officer’s hand had landed because _y/n_ was blocking his view, but Aaron observed y/n stiffen, and that told him all he needed to know. 

Before y/n could find her voice and tell Monroe to ‘get the fuck off of her,’ Aaron’s clear sharp voice addressed the officer like a whip. Like a wound aimed at the man who dared to touch y/n. Aaron was over to y/n in an instant. He placed a hand on her shoulder, firmly but gently pulling her frozen body back and behind him. Aaron towered over Monroe, and he felt his blood boil. Aaron let a harsh breath out and said, “If you value your job, and your pension you will get your hand Off. My. Agent.” Aaron highlighted each word that evinced his anger. Behind him, _y/n_ felt a wave of relief from being pulled out of that situation. Quickly Spencer and Emily were pulling y/n farther away from the scene, but she could distinctly hear Hotch say, “Get in your car and leave. Now.” Derek watched as Monroe slinked away to his car looking defeated and small. Spencer and Emily walked with y/n into the precinct, asking if she was okay, and the team as a whole huddled around her to make sure she was really alright. When she had reassured them, everyone except for Hotch moved away from y/n. Aaron placed a hand on her forearm and led her to a chair. She sat and let the exhaustion of the case, disgust at Monroe's actions, and the feeling of his hand on her body overwhelm her for a moment. A shiver ran through her. Aaron knelt down on one knee to be more on eye level with y/n. If his words before had meant to intimidate and accuse, his tone now was one of reassurance and comfort. Aaron spoke professionally but with a hint of something more that spoke to their relationship outside of work. He asked, “Be honest with me. Are you okay? Are you hurt or bruised?” Aaron’s voice helped still her thoughts and she assessed her body before saying softly, “I’m not in any pain.” She didn’t answer his first question because she didn’t particularly feel alright, but she knew she was safe now. Especially now that she was with Aaron. Aaron registered this and asked, “Has this happened before while we’ve been here?” y/n swallowed and replied, “Yes, this morning right after everyone headed out for the day.” Aaron gave her that look that said, “Elaborate please.” y/n bit her bottom lip, wondering how to phrase what had happened. Not finding any more polite or dignified terms, she said, “Morgan had stepped out and I was focusing on the bulletin board and he, um, came up behind me and grabbed my ass.” She could see the anger, the controlled rage fire through him again and she wanted to say something to reassure Aaron that she really was alright, even if she wasn’t. However, he stopped her as the Chief of Police entered the building. Aaron turned his head back to y/n and said, “Excuse me for a moment.” Then with a tone of reassurance, he said, “This conversation isn’t over.” Hotch stood and looked at Emily who understood that he was asking her to sit with _y/n_. Prentiss moved to sit next to y/n. When this was done, Aaron turned his attention to the officer who had just entered the building and said, “Chief Bronson, your office, now.” His intonation left no room for questions or delays and the older man nodded and walked into his cluttered office with Aaron on his heels. Once the door was closed Hotch turned and he felt the anger bubble up to the surface again. As Bronson asked, “What seems to be the problem?” The man sounded nervous. 

From outside the glass-walled room, the team listened as their leader said, “One of your officers just assaulted a member of my team.” Bronson’s response was inaudible, but Hotch’s reply of, “What do I mean?” Could be heard clearly. At this, the team flinched, knowing that the man inside with Hotch was about to have his soul ripped from his body and handed back to him. Everyone listened as Aaron said, “What I mean is that just a few minutes ago, Officer Monroe had his hands on a member of my team in a private area. And that wasn’t the first time this has happened today.” Aaron took a steadying breath before continuing, “As much as I respect law enforcement and what you do, I’m highly concerned about what’s just happened. If someone under your authority thought they had the right to touch a federal agent, I fear what’s happening with normal residents of this town.” Bronson stumbled to find words and said, “Well I certainly don’t condone that behavior.” Aaron let out a harsh scoff, not truly believing the man saying, “Perhaps not, but that doesn’t change the fact that your officer felt entitled to do what he did. And I don’t think Monroe thought he was going to face any consequences, and I can only imagine that he assumed that because you’ve let him get away with behavior like this before.” After this, Hotch’s voice dropped lower so the team outside could no longer hear him. Derek said, “Well I think Officer Bronson has had his ‘Come to Jesus’ moment.’” That comment actually made y/n laugh and she felt a little better now that she could laugh at this whole situation. Hearing Aaron stand up for her like that made her feel warm inside in a comforted sort of way. Aaron finished unloading with the warning, “You’ll be receiving an ethics complaint from the Department of Justice as soon as I’m back in Quantico. You might consider cutting your losses before then.” With that, he got up and left the office. 

Later that evening in y/n’s room, she and Aaron sat. She was sitting on the edge of the bed facing Aaron who was in the only chair in the lamplit space. This was to be a continuation of their conversation from before. y/n looked over at Hotch and saw how perturbed he looked. She felt a tug in her chest seeing him like this. He already had to deal with so much and now there was this. She started the conversation in an attempt to soothe this new hurt by saying, “Hotch, it really wasn’t that bad. He didn’t hurt me, it was just unexpected.” At her words, he dipped his head and said, “It never should have happened, y/n. He touched you without your consent twice, and I couldn’t prevent it.” y/n frowned and felt that Aaron had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders with this job. She said, “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I know you see how they look at JJ, Em, and I.” Hotch lifted his head and placed a warm hand on her knee saying, “Of course I see, and it bothers me more than I can say. Having these men look at you is bad enough, but when one of them starts to act on those feelings, it's unconscionable.” y/n saw that she wasn’t going to make him feel any better, so instead she put her hand over his and gently rubbed over his knuckles with her thumb. She said, “I’m going to be okay Aaron. And if I’m not, I’ll let you know. Thank you for looking out for me.” Hotch let out a breath at her touch and words, simply replying, “Always, y/n. I’ll always be here.” He wanted to lean in and press his body to hers. To cover her from unwanted attention and hands. But there was still a case, and she looked tired, but he promised himself when this was solved that he would be spending a considerable amount of time either on his or her couch with y/n on his lap and his arms settled around her; as long as that was something she wanted of course. 

The case wrapped up a few days later and the team headed home. On the plane ride back, y/n crashed on the couch facing Spencer. Emily, Rossi, and Morgan watched with a small amount of surprise,  then a soft understanding as Hotch quietly took off his blazer and placed it over her curled, sleeping body. And when Rossi left his office and walked toward his car he stopped and made sure Aaron and y/n didn’t see him as Hotch held y/n and leaned down to kiss her forehead. As Hotch wrapped her in his arms, y/n’s hands moved to his chest, and after everything that had happened on top of the case, at least she knew that she was always safe with him.

[zaynmirrors]

A/N: hey y’all! I really want to incorporate more of their back story, but if y’all are interested I can always do a prequel! Taglist is open! Do y’all want chapter songs?

JUST US

Chapter 3: I remember everything

When Daryl returned to camp with his small haul of squirrels and rabbits, he expected to be greeted by his wife. However, she never appeared.

“Y/n!” He shouted, looking through their tent that looked untouched and had been for hours. He walked into the heart of camp and looked around. His wife is nowhere to be seen. Everyone stared at him. He scowled as Shane came over arms out, like he was already ready to diffuse the wild animal.

“Daryl, now listen to me man” Shane started, Daryl knew then something was wrong. His breathing became harsher as the emotions sank in. Fear, anger, anxiety. He felt them all at once.

“She dead?” He asked though he was afraid of the answer. Daryl didn’t really see a point going on without her.

“Her and Merle got separated” Daryl lunged forward, trying to grab ahold of Shane, but ended up in a chokehold by some guy he didn’t know.

His other half was missing. Lost in a world she had no idea how to survive. One he was trying so hard to protect her from. He couldn’t bear the thought of this new world tarnishing his love.

“I’m going to look for them,” he said strained, the arm around his throat making it hard for him to speak. He patted the arm to signal he was no longer a threat. He was carefully released.

Glenn looked at him and spoke, “I’ll go with you”. Daryl nodded, appreciating the extra hands. He was coming back with both of them. The officer, Rick, and Daryl had agreed to tag along too. As well as T-dog.

Daryl readied the box truck, that was brought back from the last excursion. He listened to the hushed argument between Lori whom his wife had become somewhat close, and Rick. It was the argument of a married couple.

He and y/n hardly ever argued, but he’d remembered their first. It was over a dumb cat, he smiled to himself at the memory. She’d brought home this orange poof of a cat from work.

Daryl wanted nothing to do with the small creature and swore up and down he was allergic. Y/n ended up winning their argument. They’d kept the cat and named him Norman. He loved that cat, though he’d probably never really admit that. Not to y/n anyway. Even if he had shed a small tear when Norman got sick.

“You ready?” Daryl spoke to the volunteers, Glenn made his way to the driver's seat, and Rick to the passenger seat. T-dog chooses the latter and sits with Daryl in the back.

-

The group of men made their way through the department store quietly. Not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

T-dog led the way up to the roof, the heavy chain and lock he’d placed on the door still intact. He thanked any god listening, the last thing he wanted was to face Dixons’ wrath. Using bolt cutters he clipped the lock. Rick pulled off the chain as Daryl pushed open the door.

He was met with nothing, no sign of either of them. His lip quivered. The handcuffs Rick had told him about on their drive back to the city dangled from the metal pipe, swaying in the breeze. The side that had been cuffed to Merle was open.

“Fuck” Daryl said, voice quivering. Now back to square one, he began looking around the roof for any sign either one of them had left.

T-dog weighed out his dilemma, speaking. “Dixon, I’m sorry” This earned him a look from the tracker, and continued, “I was supposed to get them but there were too many geeks, and I-“

“You mean to tell me, this is your fault?” T-dog nodded. Daryl clenched his jaw, debating on putting a bolt through his scull but was distracted by a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

He turned fully and saw an x on the back of a door on the other end of the roof. He walked over and gently ran a finger through it. Lipstick. That was his girl.

Daryl ducked into the doorway, the others following behind him. They descended the stairwell and were met with a small arrow in red lipstick signaling to the left.

Every few feet another arrow would indicate which way to go. Until the group came upon two dead walkers. Neither of them looked like Daryl’s wife or brother.

His wife wouldn’t have been able to kill so brutally, this was his brother's doing. Y/n would’ve been precise and less messy. Merle had found humor in positioning the arm and finger of the dead body to point in the direction they needed to continue.

-

Music played softly around the pair as they swayed. A slow, sad country song but they didn’t care. Nor did they care if they had onlookers.

Daryl rested his forehead against hers as they continued to sway. “I love you” he spoke so quietly she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it at first.

“I love you” she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. Daryl smiled and pulled her impossibly closer, gently dipping her backward. This earned a laugh to erupt from y/ns throat.

“Congratulations” Joe, one of the long-term patrons of the bar said passing by the two. Y/n replied with a thanks and stared at her now husband.

He raised an eyebrow at her, the side of his lip quirking upwards, “What?”. Daryl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

The memory faded as y/n heard shuffling from outside her hiding place. She had been hidden in the cabinet for what felt like days. It was hot, and she was certainly dehydrated.

She sat still hearing the broken glass crunch under heavy feet. This could be it, her final moments. She prayed to any god listening that it would be quick and painless as the cabinet door swung open. The sun burned her eyes causing her to squint.

A voice etched forever in her mind spoke, “I gotcha” Daryl crouched down to look her over. Tears stung in her eyes as she took in his face. She stumbled out, her legs forgetting how to move from being stuck in a sitting position for days, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His arms enveloped her, holding her close. Taking in the notes of citrus and sweat. How she could possibly still smell like her shampoo was beyond him. “Where’s Merle?” He asked, still holding onto her, refusing to let her go.

She shook her head, “I don't know, he told me to hide in here” Daryl sighed, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Though he knew his brother was tough as nails and could survive this world more than his wife could.

“Let’s get you back to camp” he spoke, standing, making her stand with him. Scooping her into his arms choosing to carry her rather than let her walk.

Daryl wanted nothing more than to look for his brother but his wife looked worse for wear. He also knew his brother could make his own way back to camp. So, he took his wife home.

Chapter 4

Taglist:

@nameless-ken

[thecruellestmonth]

quick and dirty guide to Jason Todd in the masterpiece Batman: Battle for the Cowl—canon and fanon

CANON

Jason canonically is a cop-killing asshole garbage manbaby hypocrite who shoots a ten-year-old in the chest.

is a bad person explicitly because his dirty criminal childhood on the streets made him crazy and immoral. He canonically was ruined before Batman ever scraped him out of Crime Alley. (Canon—only a fake fan would argue against it!)

The Lazarus Pit also worsened his mind.

Described as "deranged" and "delusional" and "broken" and "rabid".

Crucifies Tim's Batsuit on a literal wooden cross, but Tim rises from the dead because he's Jesus.

Shoots ten-year-old Damian in the chest, then ridicules Dick for trying to save a "meaningless life".

After being shot, Damian lies on his sickbed just long enough for Dick to brood over his unconscious body.

As soon as Dick leaves, Damian jumps up, tries to swing a wrench at Alfred's head, makes a sexist comment to Squire, and then goes out running around as Robin like nothing happened.

Dick tries to use some unspecified shameful childhood trauma to trigger Jason into accepting Help, but for some mysterious reason Jason refuses—and obviously deranged, delusional, broken people Refuse Help because they're bad people who don't want to change.

-- (Somewhere, John Calvin is moaning in pleasure.) --

Uh thanks for the brief help in the B-plot, Cass—now go away, your thoughts and feelings about all this don't matter.

Apparently Jason can't transform into a man-eating tentacle monster anymore. :(

Overall, the art is pretty swanky.👌

AFTERMATH: Jason commits some dozens more murders.

Dick rightly finds him to be an insufferable asshole, and gains the ability to say so without resorting to ableism.

Damian doesn't care about being shot in the chest and suffers no lasting damage, he is too busy being in fun stories that actually further his character.

Going forward, none of the next writers really try to push long-term "Lazarus Pit madness" for Jason again--except Winick did try to slip it into the prequel, to salvage his baby.

Jason is never shown apologizing for his actions, yet less than a year later apparently decides he wants "redemption".

Bruce happily hands him a full position in Batman Incorporated, with seemingly no special supervision.

While Jason agrees to be subordinate to Batman, he still enjoys being a cocky bastard, and shows no remorse for his past crimes—which are only vaguely alluded to having happened.

CANON(?)

Battle for the Cowl was canon from 2009 to 2011.

It was wiped from existence when the universe reset in the 2011 Flashpoint reboot.

Presently as of the Infinite Frontier "timeline", BftC probably isn't canon until a writer actively writes it back into history, like No Man's Land fairly recently was.

AFTERMATH: It never happened.

FANON

Some scenario loosely inspired by Battle for the Cowl happens because Jason has glowy eyes Lazarus Pit Madness.

What is a female character...?

The conflict is wrapped up in like 200 words.

AFTERMATH: Dick gives Jason a big hug and apologizes for being the worstest brother ever back when Jason was a lonely little angel child.

Jason finds out that he is the most favoritest Robin for tiny 10-year-old Timmy, and he cries tears of remorse for his Lazarus Pit-induced violent frenzy against a nine eight seven-year-old little spleenless baby Tiny Timmy.

More hugging, cuddling, fingers affectionately carding through hair.

Damian doesn't exist for some reason.

If Damian does exist, he's treated like an unwanted booger instead of a human child. He talks like a robot and has no sense of humor.

Jason maybe scolds insensitive meanie Dick for picking evil Damian over Tiny Timmy. Timmy has been suffering fainting spells and consumption, all alone until Jason rescues him.

FANON

Massive overcompensation for other fanon.

CALLOUT post for Jason Todd!

Jason was a good kid. He isn't a bad person at all because of his childhood on the streets. (Fanon.)

The Lazarus Pit had no effect on his mind.

He is 100% sane and willing.

He is a bad person because he's sanely choosing to be an asshole garbage manbaby hypocrite who shoots a ten-year-old in the chest.

Damian isn't sexist to Squire, because she doesn't exist.

Dick destroys Jason with facts and logic and perfectly ethical therapy-speak, and never gets his hands dirty trying to trigger mental illness.

Jason destroys Damian's spine.

Tim and Damian suffer lasting physical and psychological trauma from Jason's torture—being a soldier is now harmful for a delicate developing child, but only on this singular occasion because Jason.

Alfred is the one who stole the Robin mantle from Tim to give it to Damian. 🥺 Dick was forced into a tough situation—he had no choice in how he handled things! It's Alfred, I tell you!

Dick suddenly has a close bond with Cass.

AFTERMATH: The loving idyllic Batfamily hard-blocks radicalized incel full-grown 18-year-old manbaby Jason.

They live happily ever after.

Paradise Lost Satan Jason must suffer his totally self-inflicted isolation, knowing he can never go back to the warm embrace of the very healthy and functional Batfamily, because of his petty, stubborn, definitely made-up unreasonable delusions of being a soldier in an endless warzone.

Hopefully some more cruelty and isolation can make Jason realize he's receiving karmic punishment for being a bad person—somehow this is clearly different from all the cruelty and isolation that happened to him for no reason at all.

--(John Calvin has recovered from his refractory period—he is now moaning more loudly and passionately.)--

"Yes, this is totally what happened! Read a comic, fake fans!" *makes up a fake version of BftC that never happened*

[scoonsalicious]

Pocket MCU: Iron Man 2/?

In which Pocket discovers that Tony has gone missing in Afghanistan.

Word Count: 706

Scene In-Movie @ ~25:00

“What do you mean, ‘he’s missing’?” you asked angrily as you paced your office. “How the fuck do you lose the richest man on the planet, Obadiah?”

“You’re gonna need to watch your mouth and your tone, missy,” Obadiah Stane chastised you. You glared at him. Tony had disappeared on his way back to base from his weapons demonstration, and here you were being lectured at like you were a petulant child. 

“What are we doing to look for him?” you asked. “We’ve gotta have, like, a search party out there or something, right?”

Obadiah looked at you like you were an idiot. “It’s a military endeavor now, (Y/L/N). Stark Industries has no jurisdiction or business in conducting a recovery op.”

You blinked at the older man, disgusted. “Recovery op? How can you say that?” you asked. “How can you FUCKING SAY THAT?!” He was acting as if Tony were dead, as if there was no chance of rescue. 

“(Y/N), I know you and Tony were… close,” he said with the same disdain you’d come to expect from people who didn’t understand your relationship with the billionaire, “but you have to be reasonable. His convoy was attacked by insurgents. His entire escort is dead. The chances of his survival are–”

“Then where’s his body?” you asked, desperation growing in your voice. “If they killed him, why haven’t they announced it? Why haven’t they put it online? Taken credit for it?”

“I don’t know,” Obadiah rubbed his forehead. “But it’s not something you need to be worrying about right now.”

“Not something I should be worrying about? Then tell me, Stane, what the fuck should I be worrying about?”

Obadiah sighed, as though you were testing his patience. “With Stark missing and presumed dead,” you flinched at his words, “you now hold temporarily controlling interest in Stark Industries, and acting authority as CEO.”

“What?” you asked, shock barely allowing you to process Obadiah’s words. “What the hell do you mean, I have controlling interest?”

“It was in Tony’s living will,” he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t know what kind of magic cunt you have, but you sure as shit put him in a trance.”

You pulled your hand back and slapped the man hard in his face. “Fuck you, Stane,” you seethed.

He grabbed your wrist. “You hold Tony’s position now,” he said. “And you need to make sure that DOD contract goes through– that we sell every single one of those Jericho missiles.”

“I need to find Tony,” you told him. “We need to find Tony. I don’t give a shit about any contracts, and I’m not going to take on any of his roles unless we know he’s really gone.”

“You’re a naive little girl, (Y/N),” Obadiah said. “War doesn’t stop just because you lose one man. The sooner you learn that lesson, the better off you’re going to be.”

“He’s not just one man,” you said. “He’s Tony Fucking Stark. I owe him everything, and I am not going to rest until I find him.”

Obadiah shook his head, disappointed. “And here he kept talking about how smart you are.”

“You’re supposed to be his friend,” you said, feeling ill that someone who had known Tony for so long, had watched him grow up, would give up on him so easily.

“I’m his business partner, my dear,” Obadiah said matter of factly. “And it’s my job to make sure we still have a business. Now,” he headed toward the door of your office, seeing himself out, “make sure get those contracts settled. Or else.”

“Or else what?” you asked him defiantly. You were not afraid of Obadiah Stane. You’d survived men far, far worse.

“You sure you want to find out, (Y/N)? Tony’s not around to protect you anymore.” Obadiah gave you a final warning glare as he walked out the door.

You took a breath. Then two, then three. After a long count to ten, you picked up your cell phone, flipped it open, and dialed.

“Rhodey?” you said when the call was picked up at the other end. “It’s me. Listen, how soon can you get me on a flight to Afghanistan? I’m coming to help.”

[lordsukunas]

boyfriend! yuuta hcs for valentine's day!

happy (early) valentine's day y'all! if ur single, buy urself some chocolate<3 anyway, i hope y'all like this. the ending is rushed... whoops. pls enjoy & here is a song i think fits yuuta :3

boyfriend! yuuta who asks you to be his valentine on the first of feb with a handmade card. he even gives you a little bag of heart-shaped candy.

boyfriend! yuuta whose face flushes when you smile so sweetly at him and agree to be his valentine. he's pretty sure his heart stopped for a good three beats.

boyfriend! yuuta who spends the next thirteen days trying to come up with the perfect gift. of course, he knows you like the back of his hand, so finding a gift shouldn't be difficult. and, well, it isn't. but yuuta wants you to have the perfect gift.

boyfriend! yuuta who buys all of the typical gifts: chocolates, a cuddly teddy bear with a heart, a heart-shaped balloon, and roses.

boyfriend! yuuta who, ever the dutiful lover, asks maki and nobara for advice. both say a hard no to the roses.

"they're so stereotypical. makes it seem like you don't really care, y'know?"

they're tempted to say no to all of his other options, finding them a bit... corny, but the crestfallen look on yuuta's face when they boo the flowers kills any thoughts of disapproving his other options. plus, knowing you, you're bound to like it.

boyfriend! yuuta who takes maki's and nobara's advice to heart. he never wants to neglect you or make you feel unwanted.

boyfriend! yuuta who does his research on the different types of flowers and their meanings. he jots down some on a sticky note, but the second he comes across the forget-me-nots, his decision is made.

boyfriend! yuuta who scrolls through forums and social media posts to find an idea of what the perfect gift for you should be.

boyfriend! yuuta who buys you this necklace. he thinks it's beautiful, and it's not as forward as a promise ring.

boyfriend! yuuta who perfectly wraps and bags your gifts. he wraps the heart-shaped box of chocolates, places the teddy bear into a gift bag with red and pink tissue paper, and ties the box holding your necklace with a red ribbon.

boyfriend! yuuta who makes sure the bouquet of forget-me-nots are fresh and cut.

boyfriend! yuuta who can't stop bouncing his leg while waiting for you to show up. the waitress has asked him if he needed anything about three times.

boyfriend! yuuta who smiles nervously when you enter the cafe and take a seat at the somewhat secluded table.

boyfriend! yuuta who tries his best to ignore the knots in his stomach as he places his gifts on the table. there's already an apology ready on his tongue if you don't like any of the gifts or if you're allergic to chocolate, despite yuuta asking you numerous times beforehand and seeing you eat chocolate before.

boyfriend! yuuta whose anxiety instantly disappears once he sees that beautiful smile bloom on your face and the grateful twinkle in your eyes.

boyfriend! yuuta who decides right then and there that he'd do anything to continue seeing that big, bright smile.

note: sorry i haven't posted... writing has been difficult lately + skewl has been ass SOO yeah! sorry y'all :( umm i have sumn for bff! sukuna but idk if anyone would actually like it? like i don't wanna ruin the og post by posting some sequel (prequel?) that nobody gaf abt. also try for 400+ notes on that post omg!!! also also i swear i haven't forgotten abt daycare attendant! nanami i just have no ideas n the ones i do have are rotting in drafts... anyway i've rambled long enough ENJOY UR DAYYYY GUYS <333

[toxicanonymity]

Cross-fandom: my fics by interest

Works from: The Last of Us, Scream, Narcos, The Skeleton Twins, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Bear, Road House (2024), Logan, The Free World, Little Accidents

Masterlists: Main (incl. Slashers) | Pedro | Boyd

NOTES: You can look for a theme or fic you like and see what else is grouped with it from other fandoms. Still adding. There will be repeats of a fic falls on more than 1 category. Chronological by fic date unless otherwise noted. Heed warnings. An anon mentioned liking my slashers despite not knowing the movies. So I made this bc of my break (also check out @toxicrecs). I rly appreciate your patience and kind words. x f!reader unless otherwise noted.

*the exact link is on the list more than once

Captivity, dubcon/noncon, dark fluff/caretaking

Raider Joel (Miller from The Last of Us)

* Stay awake (vampire Joel, very docile)

* The Raid (Javi and Steve from Narcos)

Captive POV (Donald Pierce from Logan) - the capture & brief touching so far, no fluff.

The Spread (Thomas Hewitt from TX Chainsaw)

Sneaking around & possessiveness

*Good Behavior (Corey Cunningham, Halloween)

Stepdad Joel

Comforting a beefy man after he's mistreated

Corey from the Yard

Mo Lundy (The Free World / Boyd Holbrook)

Power struggle, degradation, noncon both ways

*Every Inch (Ghostface) & pts 2, 3 (see fic)

Slasher Joel

Sex Work (or adjacent)

Virgin sex worker reader (Joel)

Jailbird (Joel x sex worker inmate/parolee)

Motel (Amos from Little Accidents)

Hybristophilia (attraction to criminals)

Obsessive reader (Michael)

File room boss - (Steve x boss f!reader)

*Good Behavior (Corey)

Dirty talk in the same style (night walks style)

Night Walks (Joel)

*Every Inch (NW coded Ghostface)

*Thighs out (Joel)

Unwanted or noncon somnophilia

Rock bottom pt. 3 (Corey)

What you're missing (Joel)

Ghostface POV drabble

Takes you forcefully bc you want him to

Michael (Myers) knows

Beef broth (Joel)

Same as above but you're asleep

Sleeping Beauty (Joel)

Late Night Company (Corey)

Killer/Slasher POV

Skin Alley (Michael)

* Every Inch 3 (Ghostface)

Midnight Snack (Slasher Joel)

Ghostface POV drabble

Vampires

* Stay Awake (Joel)

Michael's Castle

Sexual tension or pining between men

In order of mild to extreme (still f!reader)

* Beach Walks, Beach Walks Lore (Joel & Billy)

* The Raid (Javi & Steve) - pt. 2 (more to come)

Rock Bottom ch. 1 (Corey/Michael)

* Good Behavior (Corey)

Unwanted breeding drabbles

Secret breeder (Joel)

Breeder Michael

Shared by brothers

The Ghost (Berzatto Bros) - implied/adjacent

Brotherly Sharing Masterlist (Miller Bros)

He fucks you in front of someone who might die

Michael makes them watch

Raider - Failed Rescue (Joel)

Crossover between fandoms or movies and there's sexual tension with both of them and/or each other

Michael in Ambrose (Halloween / House of Wax)

Beach Walks - Prequel, Fic pt 1* (Night walks Joel / Billy from The Skeleton Twins)

Road House (2024) - Scream AU (kinda)

Gas Stations

Get out of the way (Michael Myers)

All dressed up (Night Walks Joel)

Leopard Print (Joel & special guest)

Man calls himself daddy

*Sky's Out Thighs Out (Joel)

Every Inch 2 & Every inch 3* (Ghostface)

--------

Feel free to suggest categories/fics

[lostinforestbound]

What's that? More Dark!Rolan on the horizon?? Here we are! (As always, this is based of @slumpsnail's art and is also my main inspiration!) This is a prequel to my first Dark!Rolan post!

Death of a Master

CW: Physical Abuse, Intrusive Thoughts (Gore, Eye trauma, Killing), Acting upon Intrusive Thought

His eyes are wide and teary as his chest heaves, trying to catch breaths that don’t quite come. It hurts to breathe, the strike from Lorroakan’s staff almost breaking his ribs. His master is careful, coldly calculating each strike to make sure nothing will break but make it hurt all the same, to make him writhe on the floor.

If Cal and Lia were still alive and able to witness this, what would they say? What would his mother say? That he’s pathetic, letting himself be treated like an unwanted dog? No, they were always kinder than that, even when he didn't deserve it.

He’s too scared to cry out for help. He's too prideful. It would only lead to another strike either way.

Usually he can grit through the sessions, grind his teeth and say nothing. His motivation is fueled by stubbornness, spite, and rage. But gods, Lorroakan might kill him this time, especially if he casts detect thoughts again.

He’s been having dreams of killing him in different ways. Drowning, tearing out his organs, setting him ablaze, choking him; his imagination knows no bounds. Last night, his dream self gouged his eyes out, digging his claws into the sockets until he stopped screaming. These wayward, unwanted thoughts were haunting him as he walked, nipping at the edges of his mind when he least suspected it. He’s becoming terrified of himself, and he has no one to confide in. When did he become so comfortable with the thought of killing someone?

When he wakes, he always hopes that Lorroakan died in his sleep. Maybe then he would have peace. When his mentor uses a Command Spell on him to make him kneel, he hopes the animated armor who stands guard strikes him through the heart.

The weave crackles, and he recognizes the detect thoughts spell trying to reach to the deepest parts of his mind. Like a fool, he mentally blocks it out with a grimace.

That was the worst mistake he’s made thus far.

“You dare resist me?” Lorroakan spits as Rolan shakily gets to his knees, wanting to run.

“Master, forgive me-“ He gasps, but is cut off with a harsh hit to the jaw by the metal staff, sending him back down to the ground. As always, nothing is broken, but hells, it hurts.

Blood spittles out from his mouth and into the floor, knowing better than trying to stand. If Lorroakan sees him trying to get back up, he’ll hit him again. Part of him hoped that someone would walk in and interrupt, giving him a small break to regroup himself.

No one will help him. When has anybody ever?

He’s going to die here. Pathetic and alone with no one that will miss him when he’s gone. Another failed apprentice, another nameless wizard. What has he done so wrong in a past life that resulted in being tortured in this one? Why wouldn’t the gods listen to him when he prayed for his siblings safety, so long ago? What have Cal and Lia ever done that they deserved to be turned into shadows?

So many questions are left unanswered, and he’s nothing but a shaking mess. Usually he shook from anger, though in the face of death, fear clasped around his throat, threatening to choke him.

“All you ever ask for is forgiveness. Maybe if you done right by me for once in your useless life, you would not have to ask for it, Tiefling.” Lorroakan sneers, hovering over him.

“Forgive me, Master.” He repeats, voice rasping.

The staff drags across the ground as he circles him. “There you are again! Forgive me this, forgive me that…you disgust me, do you know that? I don’t know why I decided to take you on as my apprentice.”

His tongue is useless as he tries to come up with a reason that he’s good enough. His spells are incredible, he knows that deep in his heart, but he needs training to perfect them. He hasn’t learned a damn thing yet because of these punishments.

The realization hits him like a falling boulder, making his ears ring. Lorroakan is never going to teach him anything. He’s only here to be a plaything. Someone he can beat to make himself feel superior, more powerful.

He’s been a fool, and he barely hears the “let’s try this again” from his teacher.

He cries out when the weave forcibly enters his mind, a splitting headache tearing through him that renders him speechless again. His master is not even trying to hide that he’s searching for something to leech onto. A cold chill rushes through him as he pins down a thought, heart nearly stopping.

There it was, a nightmare he could not hide as it was still fresh in his mind. Lorroakan, dead on the ground with his throat torn open.

Rolan is paralyzed, and he does not see the brief fear that flashes across Lorroakan’s face when he sees the image of his torn apart self.

“How dare you.”

He frantically crawls back, breathing harsh with his panic. “Master, I’m sorry-“

“How DARE you think of me in this way?! Ungrateful, pitiful bastard, you have learned nothing!”

The staff is being raised once more, and the weave unintentionally crackles around Rolan’s hands. “Master-!”

“I have wasted my time with you. I will think twice before gaining an apprentice again."

Lorroakan swings his staff, a grin on his face. He has every intent to kill him here with the way he aims for Rolan's temple. Without thinking, Rolan raises both his shaking hands to block it with a shield, but his manipulation of the weave senses his true intent. Electricity hums around his hands and-

Die.

There's a loud crack, and he hears the staff drop after a moment. Something wet coat parts of his face and hands. When the pain never comes, he slowly opens his eyes.

Blood. It coats his body and the floor. It's everywhere.

He steadies himself back to sitting on his feet, and there was his master, a gaping hole in his chest and choking on air.

Finally, Rolan’s body has stopped trembling.

(Next Part)

[aninkwellofnectar]

Welcome!

You can call me Cammie.

Here I’ll be sharing updates and information about my existing and upcoming publications in The Essence of the Equinox series, as well as other stories set both in and out of the universe.

Publications

In Pursuit of Perfection in Fall into Fantasy 2022 Amira has always demanded perfection—of herself and those around her. Her quest for absolute control takes her on a journey to the hot deserts of Seraj where rumours permeate that humans may have rediscovered the ancient phoenix. Should its power be harnessed, the fire witches will be unmatched. Amira thinks it time they re-learn who the true supreme being on earth is. 

When The Stars Alight (16 June 2023) Book 1 in The Essence of the Equinox (Buy Indie | Other vendors) Star princess Laila travels to a cursed island to uncover a legendary race of demons. There, she finds herself up against a tyrannical king who rules without a heart. To spare her country from his warmongering ways, Laila must play the role of charming diplomat aided by the prince and his bastard brother. But soon it is her heart she must keep from being torn between their dangerous rivalry for her affections.

Two Halves Of A Whole in midnight & indigo (31 October 2023) (Purchase) Lucille Bonnaire finds herself becoming the new bride to vampyre prince Ilya Likhanov. Unfortunately, she is unaware of just how nefarious his intentions are towards her and her magic.

The Sanguine Sorceress (1 December 2023) Prequel in The Essence of the Equinox (Other vendors | Buy Indie ) A blood-soaked tale of feminine rage following the journey of Serafina Stilia, as she attempts to claw agency for herself in a society where all the power is held fast in the grip of a male-run imperialistic regime. After her reputation is left in tatters by the unwanted advances of a suitor, Serafina must carve a path to liberation from the fury of her honour-driven father, or die trying.

Upcoming

We Will Devour The Night (22 September 2024) Book 2 in the Essence of the Equinox (Pre-order on Amazon) Since that fateful voyage north, negative sentiments have only grown against chaos magic and the creatures born from its origins. Laila returns to Mortos with the aim of salvaging her dynasty from those who wish to wrangle the throne on a platform of magic-driven bigotry. She finds herself once more crossing paths with her old lover and confronting the whirlwind of emotions that twenty years apart have done little to settle.

And The Age of Summer Will Rise (Winter 2025) Book 3 in The Essence of the Equinox Summary to come

As an addendum to this I do have a ko-fi account ☕. If you enjoy what I do here and would like to support me by becoming a member or donating to my publishing fund it would be very much appreciated.

You can support me also by signing up to my author newsletter. Content will include insights behind the scenes into my writing process, exclusive snippets, deleted scenes, media musings, publishing opportunities I am pursuing and much more!

Feel free to ask me anything regarding my books, my short fiction, my self-publishing journey and anything else you’d care to know about!