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sophieswundergarten · 9 months

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@nobodysdaydreams Come get your Notes!!!

(School is being. A Lot. But y'all know the drill: S.O.S., Amzing, Go read it, thank you)

Judgement Dayyyyyyyyyy

Sounds ominous

Flashback wrap up!! Yay!

MAYBE THINGS WOULD BE EASIER FOR YOU IF YOU WEREN’T CONSTANTLY SNEAKING AROUND, NATHANIEL

Ohhhhh

Milligan and Kate :(

OH HE’S ASKING THE :LKJSD>

LITERALLY JUST STARTED FLAILING AGAINST THE KEYBOARD

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

TRYING TO CALM DOWN NOW

Oh, come on. TELL THE TRUTH. YOU CAN DO IT. PLEASE.

Come on. Come on, buddy. You can do it. Please.

NATHANIEL

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I don’t know what I was expecting. He’s still trying to make things fit into his ridiculous worldview, even though it’s a little better. Maybe someday…

Bods, I am giving myself nausea I am so invested in this story asjdfj

You are SO talented

Oh dear

Milligan’s wife

YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO MOURN THIS. ALL OF THIS. IT’S HARD. ANYONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD BE SAD. STOP YOUR NONSENSE.

Mr. Benedict being the best dad in the middle of all this ajdskjfd

(Him and Milligan, at least. The two of them are amazing)

They really need to tell the adults everything. It’s not exactly helping for certain details to come out at such inopportune moments

And now the secret’s out about him stealing the credit for her inventions…

Poor Garrison. Bods, I know you said she’s been “the villain all along”, but I just feel so sad for her. She’s such a special character and you’ve developed her so much I just want to give her a hug. She shouldn’t have done some of the things she did, but all of it is interlaced with such grief and melancholy I can’t ever really be mad at her.

Calling Sticky!!!

That detail makes me such warm and fuzzies. You couldn’t compromise the integrity of the plot to have him there, but they call him every chance they get and he’s genuinely caring about them and wanting to know everyone’s okay <3

Sticky’s Aunt and Uncle Mention!!!!

(They are just barely below Isaac on my list of people who are not at all major characters but I care about probably way too much)

Oh. He finally let go of some of it. That probably was hard, but felt kind of good. I’m glad he could do that.

An hour? He must have actually been pretty tired. I doubt he slept that night (Given he was experiencing a 24 chapter flashback asdhjdfj /j /silly)

OH, NICHOLAS DOESN’T KNOW, HERE IT COMES

“lovingly but forcefully preventing Mr. Benedict from jumping out of his seat and running off to find the nephew he’d just learned about, though he had no idea of his whereabouts”

Yep, that checks out ajsdfjd

Such a good line. You can always sum up the characters so well in just a single sentence

Constance’s turn!!

“The humility will help him grow”

Y’know what? Sure. That makes sense. Good plan asdfkj

SDFKJLDSDSFKJ:LDSFKJHDSFKJ:HDSFKJ:

SISTER TIME!!!!!!!!!!!

GOING INSANE

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW DESPERATELY I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND SDJFJHDSKJHDSJGD

Wait….

Is the sister psychic?

Ohohohohoho

Fake violets!

“You always did love drama and symbolism, so I suppose it does fit, perhaps as a pseudonym or an alias, but your legal name? Natty, I know method acting is a thing, but that really does take it a bit far.”

Is it bad that I think I like her a little bit too much?

Nessie!!!!

Afsjdkl; ads;kjasldfkj;;sdv lkj; asdf kj;lsadfkjl

YOU NEED TO STOP IT. I CAN’T KEEP ABUSING MY POOR KEYBOARD LIKE THIS

SEYMOUR THE CAT

Bods, I am hyperventilating

Oh boy. She must have a pretty impressive memory. I’ getting a little spooked

Absolutely cackling that she’s shorter than him

Oh no, now he’s angry. I hope she doesn’t react badly…

OH NO. SHE’S REACTING BADLY. SHE DEFINITELY HAS SOME TRAUMA

Oh dear. Nathaniel…

This is starting to feel like your Christmas Carol AU, with the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come

Only worse

As much as she shouldn’t be hurting people, I’m kind of worried about Nerissa

(Also this reminds me of how fun and scary it was to play with her character blog!)

HAH. I don’t know why the adults think that politely asking the kids ot stay out of it is going to work.

Oh, Garrison

Constance is doing good at being intimidating, but she’s just a child. She shouldn’t have this kind of pressure on her, even if it mostly self-imposed

Pushing people off the roof? Are we taking cues from Cutter now? /j /silly /affectionate

Nicholas trying to be all surreptitious and spy on them adsjfjs

Ohhhhhh

They’re having a real conversation

Hugs for you, Bods

I know I haven’t really made any threats this time around, I’m just too enamoured with the story, so you and your possessions are safe for now

Nicholas makes a good point. She could easily just be a raving lunatic, but Nathaniel is usually sharp enough to catch a liar

I love how eager Nicholas is to hear Nathaniel’s nickname, it’s really sweet. And then Nathaniel is very upset and grumpy about it asjdfjs

It feels weird for me to see Nicholas speculate about whether or not their family used nicknames, because for me nicknames are an inherent part of family. You love someone, that just means you don’t always call them by their full name. My family rarely calls me my real name

Ohoh! And Nathaniel feels guilty about something, and he can finally share that. Very interesting…

AND HE IS HEALTHILY PUTTING HIS EMOTIONS INTO CONTEXT??? IS THERE HOPE FOR THIS MAN AFTER ALL???? /s /silly

I just really like that he uses the word “deduce”. It’s a good word.

OHHHHHHHH

THEY’RE HAVING A SIBLING HEART-TO-HEART!!!!!

I have so many sibling feelings right now. I could almost see this conversation happening with me and my sib. (If one of us were trying to take over the world asjdjasdk)

I really really do love redemption stories. They are so good and I love how sometimes you can “defeat the villain” with the power of friendship. I’m always on Nicholas’ side in that matter

I’m so happy to see all the callbacks to TOS. It makes me ridiculously and inordinately happy to see things starting to come together

SQ TIME

I’m so happy

Nathaniel is really deep in the guilt and self-bame hole right now…

Nicholas is always so ready to accept literally anyone into his family whereas Nathaniel has to be dragged and is so scared. Aw man, just thinking so much about them

Nicholas awkwardly asking about Curtain’s non-divorce akjdsdkjha I love it

PEDALIAN MY BELOVED

I’m really happy that Nathaniel gets to talk about them to someone now. I think he needs it

“you haven’t adopted any of your children” Yeah, maybe, but they’re still his children

I am getting more and more worried about SQ, Bods. He better be okay when we see him again…

Nicholas is having such a hard time accepting that it’s okay the Glenns made mistakes and Nathaniel having a hard time accepting his own mistakes in regard to SQ. THE PARALLELS, BODS, THE PARALLELS

ASKJLFDLKHUDF

AND VIOLET!!!

VIOLET AND JOHN!!!!!! I REALLY CAN’T WAIT TO SEE HOW YOU HANDLE THEM. I REALLY LOVE THOSE CHARACTERS

I love how you connected them with the violets. Just masterful work.

I’m really curious what happened between Nicholas and the Hopefields/John. I have so many questions

YEAH. PEDALIAN IS STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE AKFDHDSFJJK

I AM TOO EMOTIONS TO GIVE YOU NOTES FOR THE ENDING

IT’S JUST TOO MUCH

WHOOOO!!!!!!!!! That was amazing, as usual. My brain is exploding. So, so many things. Most of this was a “live reaction”, save for the last scene because I got too excited and read ahead without stopping for notes. I just want you to know that I am beyond ecstatic to learn more about what you have planned. I cannot wait. You are such a wonderfully talented human, and I adore your thoughts and ideas. Thank you so, so, so much for sharing them <3

#s.o.s.#WHOOOO #I have to go to class now #But I shall be thinking about this for probably the rest of the day

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thefanimator · 2 years

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you ever notice how Kyle Gallner changes body type a lot? what’s your favorite one if you had one if that makes sense?

ok, so i know what you mean but it took me a second to understand what you were saying. you mean how he can go from a more 'chubby'/doughy body type to a more lean muscular one.

i mean, idk. having a 'favorite' one seems kinda of creepy to me personally. like i have favorite characters by him but saying i have a certain body type i like most is... eh.

i mean, he's an actor. he plays different roles. my 'favorite' is whatever one he is happy with. i mean, he was probably most fit and lean a few months ago, if you guys saw his flexing video. again, i have body issues and i work out to compensate that, i eat better, etc. I think viewing him as a object is odd, like yeah, im a simp but i'm not 'oh wow, kyle looks extra lean today. i don't like that i wish he looked more chubby today', like to me that's weird. again, not blaming you and sorry for going on the tryant.

my 'favorite' which doesn't exist in this regard would be Simon. He's muscular but he very clearly is not insanely shredded. he looks like your average guy in some regards and that's one of the reasons i love Kyle is he's an actor but not some bodybuilder. oh, and Quentin as well.

sorry for the tangent. i've noticed a part of the KG fan base (if you could call it that) that tends to judge him on weight or what he looks like. i saw this post about how Kyle looked 'ugly and unattractive' in Cougars Inc bcuz he had a little bit of a belly. who tf cares? another person said he had a 'dad bod' (which uh have you seen him rn? he's actually leaned out rn, just look at his profile on instagram, it doesn't matter but like are y'all blind). yeah, ppl are attracted to different things. that's opinion based, but come tf on? work on yourself, its kyle's body, not yours. that applies to anyone and anything. sorry about the tangent, i just wanted to rant about some ppl treat KG. i have preferences and so do other ppl. but it doesn't mean ppl can be a dick about it to him.

#also wtf is wrong with dad bods?#again preference but i mean i like all body types and stuff #but why do we treat it as a bad thing #not tagging KG in this bcuz this isn't necessarily about him more about the fandom #also clarifying: i have stuff i like on him #yeah everyone does #but do not harass him or demean him bcuz of what he looks right at the moment or before #not cool imo #like im a simp! just look at my profile #but i don't care if it's 'chubby' kyle or 'lean ripped' kyle #i just like kyle??? does that make sense #also yeah i say i love soft quentin bcuz i do #but im not begging kyle to gain weight or go back to his quen bodytype #let him live goddamnit

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liopleurodean · 11 months

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Season 11, Episode 13: Love Hurts

Unattached Drifter Christmas

Yikes

Of course

Dude!

Wow.

You'd think that would be an easy choice

Regina George energy

Is that Hellboy?

I'd be watching the space program

Don't make it a doll episode

2016 and they don't have Netflix? What a nightmare

Hey, Rick and Morty isn't bad

Actually, I think that's the first episode

Oh boy

Mm. I do Not like that

What's up with the bear?

It is indeed morning

Is that a hickey???

Nice

Sure

Okay, Beyonce

Sure thing, Dean

Right

Stacy's mom has got it going on?

Nope

Yikes

That would be an interesting job

Yeah, I bet

Uh huh

Yeah...

The bear?

Absolutely

Poor girl

Fantastic

Cute cover photo

Dude. She's dead. Criminal investigation. No point in hiding it now

Buddy.

Exactly

You'd be surprised

Yup

Huh. Interesting storage type

Sure

Definitely his face, but no human could do that

Unfortunately, he does

Man, I wish all coats had inside pockets like that

Exactly

There's the eye flash!

I think we have a shifter on our hands

Nope

That was weird

Suspicious

Staci?

Yup

Freaky

We still don't know the story

Awesome

What does that make Teagan?

I don't think it's her

Yeah.

That's not pathetic at all

Silver pen

No leads

Have fun with that

A witch?

Interesting method

So it's definitely her fault, but something else is involved

Uh oh

Spooky

Definitely not

Oh boy

Summoned shifter gone rogue?

Freaky

Here's Johnny!

Liar

Pepper spray, nice!

Obviously not, otherwise he wouldn't be there

NO. THEY DIDNT. THEY DID NOT

WHO said Dean had a dad bod I-- 😭

It's her

...I think she's the shifter

Or maybe not

Okay

Sometimes

Witchcraft

Fantastic

Ah. The lipstick

Here we go

Lovely!

Definitely the lipstick

Yikes

Not your fault

That's an idea

Yup

Right

That's not gonna work

Oh, Dean, no...

Let me guess. The monster will shift into Amara

That's not what he's doing

Great

Fake ones

Of course

Well that's a start

Nice

Everyone thinks that

Great plan

Definitely

Spooky

There it is

Whatever that is

So what's Dean's deepest darkest desire?

Dean.

So that entire conversation was incomprehensible to me. So I did a little Google search and you're telling me that DAISY DUKE CUTOFF SHORTS are a reference to THE DUKES OF HAZZARD? The tiny little denim booty jorts and a show about two outlaws in a classic car? I'm gonna go insane

Cool

Oh my gosh

Sam. That was the stupidest thing you've ever done. What the heck

"oKaY"

I'm happy for him

Uh oh

Dude. It has a lock

That's not good

Ugh. Of course

At least he knows

Nope

Wow.

Really?

Makes sense

Because Amara is evil? That's why?

That's stupid

Oh boy

This is weird

I forgot about her

She really likes punching things

Witch-killing bullets!

Took him long enough

Weird

His voice 💀

Absolutely (not)

Dean...

What does that mean?

It would've been hysterical if it was Cas

Dean, no.

Power imbalance

That was never in doubt

Thanks, Sam

Proximity

It's all artificial

You'll figure it out, Dean

It's not your fault

I wonder how much money that is

#ashla chick flick moments #supernatural #season 11 episode 13 #love hurts

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themultifandomgal · 2 years

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Sweet Pea- Jughead’s Tour

Toni and I walk over to the front door where we’re meant to be meeting FP’s son. I wrap Sweet Pea’s leather jacket closer around me as we see Jughead putting his hat on and Toni takes a photo of him

"Forsythe Pendleton Jones third. I’m Toni Topaz, this is YN Topaz, my twin sister”

“Well I never thought I’d see the day when FP’s son comes to Southside High”

"YN and I are suppose to give you the full animatronic tour of Southside High but some robots went insane and starting killing the guests so we'll just wing it"

“Let’s head towards the lunch hall” I smile turning around.

"So the classrooms don't have WiFi, bathroom stalls don't have doors" I says walking down the stairs

"What about the school paper. The red and black?"

"Yeah no longer exists" I sigh

"Censorship, budget cuts. Take your pick" Toni says

"To your right you'll find a glimpse of jingle jangle being consumed in its natural habitat" Toni points Jughead in the direction she's looking

"Jingle jangle?"

"The place is crawling with the JJ" she tells him

"A highly addictive total gutter drug. My advice, don’t try it or you will be addicted by the first taste" Toni and I continue to walk to the lunch hall

"Ok here is the cafetorium Ghoulies sit over there" Toni points over to where they sit "rival gang, drug dealers, street racers, rumours of cannibalism" she continues

"And we sit over here with the Serpents" I point over to to where everyone is sitting. Toni and I walk over

"Wait your a Southside Serpent" Jug asks Toni

"Why do you think we volunteered to give you the tour?" I say in a duh tone “come meet the others”

"Actually I'm gonna sit alone. Just, you know finish my book and brood" Toni and I look at each other then back at Jughead

"I'm confused aren't you like a Serpent by blood? the son of FP Jones?”

"Yeah well I self identify as a loner not a pack animal. Look I appreciate all this Toni, but I'm just gonna put my head down and try to get through this ok?" Jughead pats Toni on the arm

“If you wanna get through this you should sit with the Serpents" I fold my arms looking at him

"YN’s right if the Ghoulies get a whiff that your alone they'll make you their bitch faster than you can say American History X"

“I’ll take my chances” Jughead turns away and sits alone

“He’s screwed” I say to Toni then turn around to the others

“Hey babe” Pea pecks my lips

“Who’s the dude?” Fangs asks

“Jughead, FP’s kid” I reply

“He’s not sitting with us?” Fangs asks

“Nope. Identifies as a loner” I sit next to Pea

“The Ghoulies will eat him alive” Pea comments

“He’ll come around. You wait and see” Toni sits opposite us next to Fangs.

Later that day we all decide to skip school and head over to Sweetwater River . I text Toni to see where she is, in the old Red and Gold room. Sweet Pea opens the door and walks in

"Topaz number 2 lets bounce" he says with an arm around me "Jones. You wanna come with?"

"We’re going down to Sweetwater" I smile trying to seem nice and inviting

"No thanks. I don't have my beach bod yet"

"What? you’ll ask for help from the Serpents when you need it but won't hang with us"

"Babe" I sigh

"Don't come crawling to us hat in hand when some Ghoulie decides to earn his stripes by taking out FP Jones' kid"

"Duly noted. Thank you Sweet Pea. I appreciate what you and the Serpents have done for me and my dad. I do, but I'm done ok? No more favours coming your way"

Sweet Pea gets angry and starts to move towards Jughead. Toni comes in between them

"Hey hey he's made up his mind ok? Take the hint Sweet Pea, he's just not that into you. Let's motor" we all turn and leave Jughead alone in the room.

“Fancy a dip?” I ask Sweet Pea with a cheeky look as I take off my top

“Hell yeah” Pea leans down and captures my lips in his. I take off his shirt and then take off my jeans before running into the water, Pea following close behind

“Do you think Jughead’s going to be ok?” Toni asks

“Why do you care?” Pea says earning an eye roll from me

“Wether you like him or not. He’s FP’s son which means he automatically has Serpents protection. We have to look out for him, at the very least make sure the Ghoulies leave him be” I sigh looking at Pea

“Fine, but if he flirts with you I’ll hit him”

“He’s not going to flirt with me” I shake my head

“He wouldn’t have the guts” Fangs laughs

“He’s right YN. Took Pea a while to finally ask you out. He was so scared of you”

“Was not”

“No he was scared of rejection Toni, there’s a difference” Fangs points out

“Good job I took the lead then isn’t it” I smile at my boyfriend

“Shut up” Sweet Pea huffs making me laugh.

#sweet pea imagine #sweet pea #riverdale #riverdale imagines #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x y/n

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scuttling · 3 years

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Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #prompt

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formerlyroyal · 2 years

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Well I am really hoping The Queen makes it that far because:

1. There will never, ever be another monarch like her and I don’t want to think of a world where she isn’t the head of the BRF 🥺

2. Because I just know (and I don’t think I’m the only one who feels this way) that MM is waiting in anticipation for her to pass because she desperately wants titles for her cross eyed meal tickets. I think the longer HM is alive it messes with whatever devious and exploitative machinations Meghan has planned. I honestly hate writing this because it makes me sick, but she is a deranged, evil, greedy POS and I know how she operates. She and Harry are absolutely miserable together, so say TQ lives 4 or 5 more years it will not be easy or enjoyable for her to keep up the façade that no one is buying. Unfortunately she is a tenacious gold digger who is desperation in human form, so I do think she will stick it out as long as she can *eye roll* because she desperately wants titles for A/ L, whatever inheritance of H’s she believes she’s entitled to, and to be the DIL of a King. Plus just generally trying to sabotage W and K’s chance at a future reign because she is so unhinged and consumed with jealousy.

Maybe if Charles doesn’t give into her delusions and if she and Harry are still massively flopping/ failing at everything and she doesn’t get her way (kids titles, half in/out) it would finally be enough to get rid of her. Even then it wouldn’t be easy because she will be waaaaaaaaay past her prime and I don’t think another wealthy (or sane) man would ever touch her with a barge pole. I believe one thing M would have tonnes of trouble tolerating is sticking it out with someone she deems a loser (no $$$) even though that person is actually HER. She is a creepy, awkward, mentally ill, childish, clingy, cosplaying empty shell {with no personality of her own} and a massive leech who TAKES and brings nothing to the table, but she’s the prize in this scenario, at least in her twisted mind. Lol. What a delusional psycho.

Meghan will never level up the same way Misha Nonoo did and I bet she is extremely jealous of her now. If she is forced to stay with a daft, balding, unattractive, sulking pillock /prick with no real money and a dad bod (b/c alcohol) out of absolute desperation that will be her real karma. She bet on the wrong horse and knows it. They are both extremely lazy and untalented and he’s as thick as a plank. She is scheming, cunning, mentally unstable, a known liar / manipulator and is rather unfortunate looking despite all of her plastic surgeries and the entire world despises her as she doesn’t fool ANYBODY who isn’t a racist sugar. MM is massively fucked either way, IMO. Even if she stays (unhappily) with Harry she loses. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear and she refuses to give up all of her futile attempts over and over and over again. She is actually the definition of insanity in human form, it’s quite alarming and pathetic. That inherently duplicitous creature honestly needs a straight jacket. Not even joking, she makes the character Alex Forrest from Fatal Attraction look sane, for real.

Well said and I agree. She won’t give up until it becomes clear she isn’t going to be the first female President (and a woc one🙄🙄🙄) or is PC’s fave and Will and Kate publicly apoligize. For what? Idk

She’s a monster. She just wants attention and to hear herself save the world. I hate them myself.

Thank you 👍

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khalixascorner · 2 years

Text

Be My Baby Mama Pt 7

Summary: Peter and SIM Tony accidentally end up pregnant when they spend a heat together. They decide to keep the pup but how are a superhero and a supervillain supposed to do this whole parenting thing? And what's everyone else going to say when they find out?

“Umm, Mr. Stark, can I ask you something kind of personal?” Peter asked, not sure if he was going insane or if it was actually possible. Stark raised an eyebrow but gestured for him to go on. “Are you on birth control?” Stark just looked at him like he had grown a second head, then paled for a moment before his expression totally locked down behind a blank mask.

Read on AO3 Chap 1 Chap 2 Chap 3 Chap 4 Chap 5 Chap 6

Tags: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Peter Parker, Omega Tony Stark, Mafia AU, Mob Boss Tony Stark, Villain Tony Stark, Mafia Typical Violence, no smut guys, It's all fluff, A little angst, Mpreg, Mating, SIM Tony Stark, sorta, Superior Iron Man Vol 1. (2015), Age Difference, Aged-Up Peter Parker, baby Stark, Crack Treated Seriously, Just a crack taken seriously fic where Peter and Tony get pregnant, have a pup, and fall in love, Tony is very bossy and Peter says Yes Omega all the time

Tony hated pregnancy, he decided. He had two weeks left, though technically the pup could come anytime, and he was beyond done. The omega had tried bribing their pup, much to Peter’s amusement, but it seemed content to stay put for a while longer so he was stuck feeling like a beached whale with asthma for the foreseeable future.

“Come on, kid, take pity on your old man,” Tony grumbled, rubbing at his aching belly gently. “This isn’t exactly the most comfortable situation for either of us. There’s gotta be something you want.”

Tony put his hand on his stomach but the baby was calm beneath his palm. He sighed and then groaned as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position on the couch.

“Still trying to bribe the pup?” Peter asked as he brought Tony a bowl of ice cream. “I’m telling you, they’ll come when they’re ready and not a moment sooner. They’re your child after all.”

“Like you didn’t contribute to this heathen?” Tony retorted, though he happily took the treat.

“Of course, but I think it’s well established that I actually listen to you,” Peter said, sliding to his knees by the couch. “And this little one has yet to do so.”

Peter gently nuzzled at Tony’s belly, all the while rubbing the omega’s thighs and sides. Tony groaned again and relaxed into the skilled massage.

“Can’t wait to have my body back and not be so huge,” Tony said wistfully. “It's starting to feel like my clothes are never going to fit again.”

“Hey, that’s ok. We’ll just get you new ones,” Peter said firmly, his hands stopping their massage to grab Tony’s free one. “The pup is taking up a lot of room, and after, well I’m not going to lie and say your body might not be a bit different. But Tony, even if it is different, you won’t be any less beautiful. Because any marks your body carries after is proof of this amazing thing you’ve done. You’ve grown a whole new person with just your body.”

“Doesn’t mean I wanted to trade my body in for a dad bod at 40,” Tony muttered. “No one finds those attractive.”

“I find you attractive,” Peter said with a growl. “Listen and listen closely, Omega. I know it makes you uncomfortable and maybe it makes me a hormone driven knothead but you, with my marks, with the marks of carrying my child on your body, is literally the hottest thing in this world and I will never not want to be with you. And if you don’t want me to draw attention to it again, I won’t, because I love you, Omega. I love every part of you and that won’t change just because some parts of you change.”

Tony looked down at the alpha kneeling by him and felt his breath catch at the deep well of love shining out of Peter’s earnest eyes. No one, not even Pepper or Rhodey, had ever looked at him with such unconditional devotion and love. And yet Peter had given his entire self to Tony, heart and all, in such a short time.

“I love you too,” Tony said softly, shocked to realize that it was true. Somehow, between lab days, baby classes, and everything else, Tony had fallen for Peter just as thoroughly as the alpha had for him. He couldn’t imagine a life without the alpha at his side, helping to raise their child.

Peter kissed his hand, then placed gentle kisses all over his belly too before picking up where he left off with the massage.

“Hey there, little pup, how about we be nice for our omega,” Peter said with a gentle rumble. “It’s not easy being a mama you know.”

“Not the mama,” Tony muttered through a bite of ice cream. “Definitely the papa.”

“Sorry, it’s not easy being a papa and growing a pup for so long, you know,” Peter cooed and Tony rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

Of course the traitorous heathen started kicking as Peter was talking, and Tony winced at a particularly sharp pain.

“Alright, trouble, easy on the judo to my organs,” Tony muttered, only to gasp as he felt another sharp pain.

“Tony?” Peter asked, looking up sharply at the pained sound.

“It’s fine,” Tony said as he got comfortable again. “Just a few well placed jabs hitting a nerve or something.”

“Alright, let me know if it changes though,” Peter said, returning to his gentle ministrations.

Tony sighed in relief as the tension bled from him, despite the pup’s insistence on tap dancing on his insides. There were a few sharp twinges as the pup got more excited, and Tony had to grin. Apparently, the pup was already a daddy’s kid given how active they suddenly were. Of course, he was a fan of daddy too, so really he couldn’t talk.

Peter had transitioned to telling the pup stories of Spider-Man when Tony felt a sharp pain that was stronger than the last.

“Jarvis, scan,” Tony yelped and Peter jumped to his feet as Tony doubled over from a second wave of pain.

“You appear to be in labor, sir,” Jarvis said calmly. “Might I suggest relocating to the Medbay.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter swept him off the couch and rushed to the elevators. The alpha nuzzled at the omega’s scent glands, murmuring encouragement the whole ride. Tony wasn’t having any of it though, complaining the whole way.

“Figures the baby listens to you and not me.”

#khalixa writes #starker #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #omegaverse #mafia au #mafia boss!tony #alpha peter #omega tony #mads made me do it

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vic-chaos · 3 years

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OKAYYYY I have a lot of thoughts about the trailer and I need to try and formulate them into words djbdjsbfndhdndbdnd

Idk about you guys I know this is an unpopular opinion, but I actually love older Stan and Kyle LMAO 😭 I completely unironically love how they're like middle aged and balding (canon dilfs god bless 😔🙏!!!!!!!!) and average looking rather than being supermodels or whatever. Its nice, I always think we need more main and hero characters in media who just look like normal people. Kyle's beard is so good and I love Stan having a dad bod, his hair is terrible but it’s just in character for him to have bad hair honestly skbfksbxjdssjs.... its cute how much they look like Matt and Trey too.

I know I just said this but I LOVE Stan being a little chubby around the middle one of my favourite hcs is that he’d get a slight beer belly when he’s older and I’m so happy to see it in canon sjdfgfjsfd

It’s impossible that the age jump will be permanent, so I’m curious about whether its like... a dream/vision, alternate reality or something?? My theory at the moment is that this is a potential future (probably a worst case scenario where the pandemic never ends or something) and the kids - now older - will end up time travelling in order to fix the past.

Them being in a quantum physics lab in this screencap is whats really making me lean towards time travel as a possibility right now...

I suspect this might also be tied into reconciling their friendship? It seems like in this future they drifted apart, but when Kyle is on the phone in the trailer he said “remember when we were little, us friends said we’d always be there for each other when things got bad” which made Stan react immediately.... And also yes this line is already making me like [crying cat meme] sdjhbsdfhsd 😭... but I think its possible that they either will get back together and then realise they should never have separated, or travel back to intentionally stop the group from separating.

I also suspect Randy will have something to do with saving the day, which as much as I am tired of him, would be nice because he caused a lot of the problems in the first place and it could be a good redemption for him to help resolve it.

Anyway to get back on the adult designs I am of course going insane with the need to see Kenny/Cartman/Butters jdbhgsdvfddsf

I’m terrified for all three bc on the one hand it could be really bad.... but on the other if they’re as good as Kyle and Stan I will be in heaven. I don’t know if they’ll use Cartman’s design from my future self and me or make a new one for this?? As long as he’s not skinny 😭

Cartman being hidden from us at the moment is also making me curious since he invented time travel in my future self and me.... it makes me wonder... I don’t think he will be inventing time travel in this future since it’s likely they’ll do a call back to such an old episode, but it is a fun idea to consider sdjhgbdg

#x #there is so much to think about omg.........#sp spoilers

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nastyboots · 3 years

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It's under way! Prequel stuff written for a bingo, will post in a bit. More chapters or segments to come. I Have a Cunning Plan -- OK OK OK, so hear me out --

So after this scene, here is the sequence of events that *really* happens, because my brain refuses to accept it any other way –

– Tearful reunion (Wilson does the cry-with-your-hands-over-your-face thing; House calls him an idiot while simultaneously doing the twinkly-sparkly-eyes-and-affectionate-smirk deal)

– They immediately go upstairs and fuck like weasels, because one is legally dead already and the other will be literally dead soon, so, y’know, NO RULES and WHY NOT, and you know they’ve wanted to for a bajillion years

– Which instantaneously transforms Wilson from adorable suit-wearing dweeb to sexxxxaaay dad-bod beardy biker guy (IDK how this occurs by the way – osmosis perhaps – dammit, Jim, I’m a writer, not a scientist!)

– They ride off together into the sunset and go see all the places Wilson has always wanted to go, bucket-list-style, and commit various types of entertaining dumbassery together

– Whilst also having loads of hot monkey sex (oops, nearly typed loaves of sex there, which is nonsensical and yet somewhat entertaining to think about)

– Which eventually convinces Wilson of the folly of not pursuing treatment, and that he has something to live for – because hey, crazy-soulmate-genius-doctor-dick, finally

– He agrees to start treatment; House turns himself in so that in a few months they can have an actual non-fugitive-style life together now that Wilson has decided to LIVE – because let’s be real, you can only sleep in so many cheap sleazy motels and eat so much bad truckstop food before it becomes a complete existential horror

– Meanwhile Wilson’s long-ago ex, with whom he had a brief grief-and-nostalgia-driven porkfest when he thought House was dead, turns up pregnant, so now *two* reasons to LIVE, DAMMIT (although she doesn’t actually want Wilson back, because that would make things insanely complex, as if they aren’t already)

– House does his time; while House is in the clink pregnant ex stays with Wilson (platonically, because Hilson) and generally nurses him through treatment and surgery

– House is released, Wilson slowly recovers, baby is born, and mom, mom’s partner, 2 dads (House and Wilson) and baby all shack up in some semi-sitcom-worthy fashion and raise kid together OR mom is tragically offed in some fashion leaving 2 dads to raise kid

– BONUS MATERIAL: Since House can’t practice anymore he starts writing medical mysteries under a pen name – they are wildly successful and he makes a skadillion dollars; Wilson, burned out on oncology, goes to work as a doc at a local clinic for low-income folks

AND YES, I AM ALREADY IN THE PROCESS OF WRITING THIS FANFIC BECAUSE MY BRAIN INSISTS, AND IS GOING TO PUMMEL ME RELENTLESSLY UNTIL I DO IT - ONE SEGMENT IS COMPLETE ALREADY. BWAHAHAHAHA

#hilson #house md fanfic #house md fanfiction #dont look at me I just work here #I didn't make this brain I'm just the poor bastard that totes it around #overeducated idiots in love #angst with a side of smut and happy ending for dessert

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tobesobri · 4 years

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Bust | Part Two: Etch (4.4k)

She huffed when it became useless to do anything about it right there and instead, quite roughly, slammed the poor figure down onto the shelf angrily in a way that would surely distort the figures’ backside as well. But she didn’t care anymore because it was just so damn typical, right when she gave a damn about something it all always fell apart.

Her eyes met Harry’s when she turned to walk away, realizing he’d just seen her little tantrum because he had clearly been watching her the entire time. He glanced back at the shelf where her sculpture was and she sighed, dragging her feet back to her table to clean up her mess. She could fix it on Wednesday, she supposed. They kept the moisture levels in the studio rather high and didn’t use air-drying clay so that their sculptures never hardened between classes. It would be easy to scrape off and start again.

And with one final glance behind her, while other students either chatted amongst themselves or with Harry, she stepped out onto Justice Street and tried not to let the breeze from the ocean across the street make her cry.

In which Y/N is an annoyance in Harry’s sculpting class.

story masterlist | my masterlist

Luck was not on Y/N’s side when, after Harry had wrapped up the class and she went to put her sculpture on the shelf again, she dropped it. When the hot dad bod she’d been sculpting the past hour landed face first on the cement and she nearly shed a tear.

“Oh no!” Another student gasped, bending down before Y/N could and grabbing it off the floor while she was still in utter shock.

“It’s not too bad!” The girl reassured, smoothing out some dents with her fingers before handing it back to Y/N again.

It was just her luck that the second she took any of this shit seriously it went straight down the gutter.

It was pretty bad, however, on further inspection. All her abs had smooshed down and gone misplaced. She didn’t even want to talk about his smashed face, either. Not that it was peak artistic talent to begin with but… fuck. On his body, the poor collar bone she was working on most recently completely detached into a sad little worm of clay on the floor. And she pouted while picking it up and trying her damndest to stick it back on while her classmates set their pieces down and went on their merry ways.

* * *

Y/N and Rose settled on trying the pizza place they’d walked past several times up Justice Hill instead of their typical cafe the following week. It had a better view of the ocean and Rose claimed she was craving pepperoni. So Y/N packed a lighter lunch for work and met her at Anna’s Pizzeria at their usual five-thirty on Wednesday evening.

“Still can’t believe you come out of a flu and the first thing you want is this greasy pizza.” Y/N picked up a slice from their shared pan and brought it to her plate, knowing damn well she’d regret all the grease later, but not caring too much in the moment.

“Pizza is the only thing I ever want. It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Y/N rolled her eyes around a big bite of pepperoni and gooey cheese. She had to admit, Anna’s had some damn good pizza.

“So you never told me how Saturday went?”

Y/N wiped her mouth first on an equally as greasy napkin and then on her sleeve. “It was okay until I dropped my fucking sculpture.”

“What?” Rose exclaimed with her mouth full, her eyes going wide.

“Yeah, I spent so much time on it and that little bastard is a fucking pancake now.”

“Are you going to try and fix it today then?”

“I guess.” She shrugged, thinking further back into her evening on Saturday and changing the subject to something a little less heartbreaking. “Anyways, I saw Harry at our cafe before class. He asked about you.”

“Did he?” That perked Rose right up and made Y/N wonder even more if her best friend had a secret little crush on Harry.

“Oh yeah. He said he was disappointed you weren’t there.” Y/N stretched the truth just a little bit, but she was milking it for everything she could.

And it was worth it to see Rose’s cheeks blush as she got all flustered. “Stop it, no he didn’t!”

Y/N nodded her head exaggeratedly, “Yes he fucking did. I knew you were flirting with him last week.” Y/N wagged her eyebrows while Rose’s smile grew tenfold.

“I honestly wasn’t... but I might now. He’s fit as hell.”

Fit. Harry was beyond just fit. She didn’t quite know what word properly described him, but fit just wasn't it.

Still, she cocked her head and scrunched her features as if she didn’t quite agree. “Eh, he’s alright I guess.”

“Don’t even lie. You know he’s hot.”

Y/N made the same faces again, but the second she felt her own cheeks getting hot, she did her best to hide it. To bury those feelings as far down as it got. No one, definitely not Rose nor Harry, needed to know how insanely attracted to him she actually was.

Because it was fine for Rose to find him fit and hot and whatever else. She was too. But Y/N didn’t see it the same way for herself. Admitting she liked Harry in any way would be admitting she thought she had a single chance with him, which she most certainly did not.

Sure, he sculpted bodies that looked like hers, but that didn’t mean he’d lower his standards to her level when he could have someone else.

The grease was starting to get to her.

“Why don’t you ask him out then if you think he’s so hot?”

“I don’t really think he’d go for me, he’s a bit out of my league, isn’t he?” Rose asked and Y/N couldn’t believe she’d forgotten how stubbornly insecure Rose really was.

“I think you’re out of his, love.”

She blushed again and went back to her pizza. Meanwhile, Y/N battled a bad case of heartburn and disruptive thoughts. She was sentenced to her daydreams about Harry while Rose could freely go around expressing all her feelings. And, to be honest, it had been Y/N’s fault for throwing herself into a bad mood anyways. She’d started it by telling Rose Harry asked about her and leaving out the bits where he may or may not have invited Y/N to see his dick some day. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

* * *

“I thought you said you dropped this? It looks fantastic.” Rose placed Y/N’s body sculpture down in front of her after she refused to go grab it herself and face, yet again, what she’d done on Saturday.

However, when she looked at it now, it was fantastic. It looked better than before she dropped it, in fact. She picked it up off the table and inspected it further. His face was perfect, no more inverted nose. The collar bone was back and better than ever. The abs were actually fully defined and even the little bit of pudge she had intended was going stronger than ever. It was like she’d never dropped it in the first place and then he got a complete makeover on top of it.

And she had no clue how or why.

She looked around the room at everyone else, no one seemed to be freaking out like she was. Like some magical fairy had fixed up their pieces for them too. It seemed to be just her.

“I did… drop it.” Y/N mumbled, turning the figure around to see the dents she’d put in his back herself were smoothed out as well. And that he actually had what looked like shoulder blades protruding. And a bit of an indent for the spine down his back.

“Maybe I grabbed the wrong one?”

Y/N hadn’t thought of that possibility yet. So, she set him down carefully while they both scoped out the shelves and then everyone around the class. No one seemed to be missing their sculpture nor was her sad little lump still sitting on the shelf.

This one was hers. She just had no idea how it got to be the way it did.

Maybe the girl who’d picked it up for her felt so bad she fixed it. But that started to seem unlikely too when Y/N glanced at the girl’s own lackluster sculpture across the room and realized there was no fucking way she could have put him back together.

That only left one other possibility…

He was already watching her from the front of the class when she looked at him finally. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head at him. There was no other possibility. He had seen her drop it on Saturday and he was the only one in the room that could have done what he did to fix her mess.

And it was pretty much guaranteed when he gave her a guilty little smile.

Harry had fixed her fucking sculpture. After she annoyed the ever loving shit out of him every Wednesday and Saturday evening and called his class stupid. He fixed her fucking trainwreck so she didn’t have to. He even made it better. Hell, she probably had the best looking one out of the entire group now.

She hated to imagine him working tirelessly on it Sunday morning, or even worse, Saturday night after class when he was surely exhausted. She loved it and she hated it. She couldn’t help but let the butterflies loose in her stomach at just the mere thought of him wanting to help her. To make her life easier after she’d literally almost left the studio crying last time. It warmed her heart and she was certain Harry was a professional at not just sculpting but at making everyone fall completely in love with him.

“Alright, so today,” Harry began after he and Y/N had their little moment, “we’re going to backtrack a little to the heads and focus on faces again. Now that most of you have done details on the body where it isn’t as crucial, I think the face will be a little easier now that you’ve had some practice.”

He went on like that, doing his usual little lessons in front of the small crowd. But this time, she noticed him glancing her way a lot more often. Maybe he had been doing it all along and she never really paid him any attention, but it was clear as day now. Almost every single time he looked out at them, his eyes landed on her at some point. And sometimes he even smiled while doing so.

Was she losing her fucking mind?

When he played another video, Rose leaned in close toward Y/N and whispered, “He’s totally looking at me, holy shit you were right.”

Y/N’s entire body sank. She had, after all, been losing her mind. She’d let herself get too cocky. He had no reason to be looking at her. Rose, on the other hand, she’d been gone on Saturday and was finally back. Maybe she really was wrong about his preoccupations. Maybe he was making cute little glances at Rose and not her.

She really couldn’t tell, now that she thought about it.

And she was in no place to brawl it out with Rose over Harry. She knew damn well if it came down to it, Rose would win every time. She just hated that the only reason Rose even saw Harry that way was because she had planted that seed to begin with and now there was no turning back.

Y/N slid her sculpture out of the way and put her head down the rest of his lesson about sculpting facial features. She wanted to believe so badly that Harry was at all interested in her. And she hated herself for boiling him down to that. That he was just some piece of meat she and Rose could fight over. She didn’t like that feeling at all and she wished she could go back to Saturday when he was whispering his kinky little phrases at her and letting herself believe it.

When they were sculpting, she was a little less enthusiastic. She didn’t stare Harry down while he wandered the room with his hands behind his back. She didn’t admire his ass every time he bent over a little bit in his high-waisted trousers. She didn’t even brave once single glance at his hands even though he’d dressed them up in his rings again today.

And she definitely didn’t know what to do about her face. The sculpted one and the real one. But mostly the sculpted one. It sat untouched for quite a while as she just stared at it blankly. Harry had put it back into place, but didn’t do any of the detail work it needed and there was no hope in matching it with what he had done to her figure’s body. She could never get it to look like the same person did both no matter how hard she tried.

So she was back to square one, to just not even trying at all.

“How’s it going over here? We missed you on Saturday.” Harry greeted them, standing directly in the middle of both girls this time while he stared solely at Rose with those fucking dimples on his face.

Y/N glanced from Harry to her friend, watching as Rose got all flustered. At least Y/N attempted to hide when he did that to her. And at least he said something a lot more profound to make her that flustered to begin with.

She wanted to smack herself to try and get her mind to stop being so insanely jealous. Instead of violence, however, she just chewed on her bottom lip and avoided looking at him.

Harry glanced at her curiously when he noticed Y/N’s reclusion, but was pulled back to attention when Rose finally answered.

“I was sick actually, so I couldn’t make it. But I made her come so she could tell me what I missed.” Rose nudged Y/N.

And Y/N glanced at them, with little coercion. Harry laughed like he was forced to do so, because nothing Rose said was all that funny but he didn’t know how else to respond when all his focus was on Y/N and why she looked like a deflated balloon.

His eyes flickered towards Y/N’s untouched sculpted head, knowing very well she hadn’t done a single thing with it after he’d put the nose back in place. “Guess it’s not going so well.”

“You think?” She couldn’t help it. When she was feeling particularly shitty about herself, all the hard, prickly bits came out. And she didn’t really mean to snap at him so hard to nearly bite his fingers off, but it just came out.

“Mine’s coming together!” Rose brightened the mood and Y/N was thankful. She didn’t want any more of her bitterness getting all over Harry when he’d done nothing but fix her sculpture for her.

He was still wary, though, shifting focus back on Rose’s work again. Y/N tuned them out while he helped Rose adjust a few things here and there. She even attempted to make some moves on her own sculpture finally. But just ended up just rolling snakes of clay out and forming the word ‘fuck’ across its tiny face when none of her attempts panned out too well. Not when her mind was racing ten miles a second with thoughts about Harry.

He watched her hands while she completed the last letter and Rose went on her spiel about how she wanted her mermaid to look, even though Harry was no longer listening. There was no amusement on his face, no hint of a smile at all when he glanced upwards and saw the prominent pout on Y/N’s lips. The very lackluster glaze across her eyes. He wasn’t sure what was wrong but he preferred when she made his life hell then this sad version of her.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” She whimpered softly, twisting her head toward Rose and realizing both her and Harry were staring at her now.

“What are you doing?” Rose asked.

She looked at her masterpiece again, having been somewhat in autopilot the entire time. “He’s a fuck face… get it?”

Rose rolled her eyes back to her own work, “Well, at least the body of yours looks good.”

And then her eyes shot up to Harry’s and they shared another silent moment until eventually it got her to smile again when the irony finally hit. He matched his face with hers, just happy to see something other than a frown taking over her features.

“Thanks,” Y/N gave Harry an evil little smirk he was way too familiar with, but he supposed he preferred that to the frown as well. “I worked really hard on it.”

* * *

She had made a near full recovery later that night, when she finally crawled into bed with her phone and cried laughing at various different funny video compilations. She didn’t even think anything bad about herself, even when her mind wandered back to Harry again. The combination of Harry and Rose and everything had just gotten to her, giving her a headache.

She knew it was stupid. Harry was their instructor. He probably already had a significant other looking the way he did and she wasn’t even supposed to like him. He made fun of her bowl and she, in turn, tortured him in class just for the hell of it. She wasn’t supposed to care so much.

Right when she started dozing off, her phone still in her hands, still playing the video she’d fallen asleep to, it suddenly buzzed. And then she dropped it on her face when she jolted awake again.

“Ow, fuck,” she muttered groggily, ripping her phone away after she was sure it hit her hard enough to break something. And she couldn’t deal with a broken, crooked nose at the moment, so after she felt around her face and everything seemed intact, she flipped her phone over again and checked who was bugging her at this hour.

Though when she saw the notification, which was most definitely not a text from Rose or a useless promotional email, she shot up straight in her bed, all exhaustion emptied from her body.

Because it was Instagram. And not just that, but it was Harry. The notification had been from him following her. She opened it and checked just to make sure it wasn’t some mistake. That it was actually Harry. But then her phone buzzed again and it was a message this time. Why was Harry sliding into her DMs at eleven o’clock at night?

Maybe he was on his phone in bed too like she had been. Maybe he didn’t have notifications on and just now checked his Instagram to see what she’d done last Friday night.

Which seemed to be the case when she read his message.

See you’ve found my Instagram.

She smacked her hand against her forehead, having managed to forget the incident until just this very moment. And she had no idea what to do or say to him either. But then he started typing again and bought her some time.

When the three little dots went away, however, and no new message appeared from him she couldn’t help but wonder endlessly what he had meant to say. What had he been typing the past minute that he decided not to send after all?

She took a deep breath and sent something.

Sorry.

She cringed at her stupid response, but he still typed again. She hadn’t completely lost him to her sudden inability to hold a conversation.

Two text bubbles popped up from him in quick succession.

Okay

Are you going to follow me back or what?

She laughed out loud to herself, imagining him asking that question with that smirk on his face. Because during her time stalking his Instagram, he didn’t seem to take it too seriously. He had a humble amount of followers and didn’t tend to post things for clickbait. It was just a collection of his favorite memories and his work and that was it.

She laid back on her pillows again and sent him an eye roll emoji.

(Y/N)

I’ll think about.

(Harry)

What’s there to think about?

(Y/N)

Whether or not I want to see you on my feed everyday.

(Harry)

Could be useful.

The sculpting stuff.

(Y/N)

I’ll pass.

(Harry)

Your loss 💁‍♀️

She giggled and left their thread silent for a moment as he did the same. But once she thought of something else to say, she was right back at it again. He was far too easy to talk to and she knew that wasn’t a good sign if she wanted to deny any feelings for him.

(Y/N)

So are you going to unfollow me now then?

(Harry)

No.

Think I would enjoy seeing you on my feed everyday surprisingly enough.

Her heart raced again. He was back with those little fucking comments that sent her on all sorts of waves of emotion. Surely he was just being friendly, but she couldn’t help but get a little carried away inside her own head.

(Y/N)

You know I only post pictures of my dog, right?

(Harry)

Obviously.

Her cheeks burned from smiling so hard at the fact that he hadn’t just followed her, he’d went through her Instagram too. After a moment of letting herself just be fucking happy to be talking to him like a normal person, outside of class and outside of pestering each other, she changed the subject.

(Y/N)

I never got a chance to thank you for fixing my sculpture.

So… thank you.

He was quiet then, for a long while actually. Long enough to where she finally shut off her screen and figured maybe he was done talking. She didn’t need him to say ‘you’re welcome’ or anything like that. She still would have thanked him anyways just the same.

But, of course, when his message buzzed in her palm, she was zooming her way into their DMs like her life depended on it.

(Harry)

You don’t have to thank me. I felt bad after you actually tried and then dropped it.

(Y/N)

So you won’t mind me taking credit for it then?

(Harry)

It’s not like you’re getting a grade.

(Y/N)

Still.

(Harry)

I’d rather no one know I did it for you anyways.

It was the first time she paused during their entire conversation. What did that mean? Surely no one would care if they knew he fixed her project for her. He helped others all the time. And like he said, this wasn’t for a grade. So why would anyone else knowing be a worry at all? Was he scared of the others thinking he might like her because he was doing her favors? And why was it so bad for anyone to know if he did like her?

(Y/N)

Okay.

I’m gonna go to bed so goodnight.

She stayed up a little longer overthinking his words some more. She knew it was a lot less deep than he’d intended, but she couldn’t help it.

Overthinking was her forte.

* * *

She hadn’t talked to Harry again on Instagram before their next session and Rose started preoccupying herself with some other guy in class besides Harry. It was somewhat peaceful while she worked on her sculpture’s face with her headphones in, forgetting about everything surrounding her.

She occasionally took breaks to look away from it, always making a futile attempt to stare at a wall or at someone else’s creation but never failing to find her eyes navigating back to Harry every single time.

He was in a white painter’s type jumpsuit today with a t-shirt on underneath. It was… interesting. But she supposed it shielded his nice clothes from his messy job. He didn’t look her way nearly as many times as he had in their last class though, which, by the way, she had come to terms with. He’d been making glances at her and not at Rose.

She’d also come to terms with her self-destructive behavior. She wasn’t going to mope around and invalidate good things just because they were happening to her. Harry showed no signs of being uninterested, so she was going to hope for the best.

And it might lead to her demise but… who cares.

So when class was finally over, she did something she had never done before. She walked up to the front of the room.

Before she could get to him, though, two other girls took her spot and she immediately froze in place beside the first table at the front of the room. She was close enough to hear their conversation, close enough for him to have noticed her and close enough that it definitely looked like she was headed straight up to Harry, unprovoked. But them unknowingly intervening was the wake up call she really needed. She did not need to be going up to him asking if he wanted to get a coffee with her. She most certainly did not need to flirt with him as painfully as the other two girls were. Even though he glanced over at her, curious and concerned, just before she turned on her heel and left.

Not today.

Maybe never.

But not today.

“I thought you were going to ask him something?” Rose questioned when Y/N returned to grab her bag just before they left the studio out the back door.

“Oh, uh… I figured it out.” She shrugged it off, but still found herself peeking over her shoulder at him while she followed Rose out into the night. He stood alone this time, and when she met his eyes he’d already been watching her, fidgeting with his rings, and letting a very upsetting frown sit on his face.

“So,” Rose started, pulling Y/N away from the studio for the final time, “coffee?”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #sculptor!harry

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bluebellwriting · 4 years

Text

Love Me Tender Part 3

(Note: I know Molly hasn’t been confirmed as a demon nor is she in Hell, but for the sake of the story, I’m saying that she is a demon and she is in Hell. There’s not a lot of information on the spider fam so I’m going to be taking some liberties here)

Sunday dinners at your dad’s home have always a tradition, even when you all were alive. It wasn’t religious, Lord knows if it had been you probably wouldn’t have ended up here. But when your family spends every day of their lives and afterlives meeting with mob bosses, disposing of bodies, and doing drugs, it was nice to have a reason to come together and remind each other that you were all still here. It was because of those dinners and the evenings spent cooking with your Nonna that your love of cooking came to fruition.

Oh, your Nonna. You’ve tried looking for her down here, even though you know that there was no way she was deserving of a place like this. She was a saint, the mother you deserved instead of the mother you actually had. Your mother was cold, lazy, vain, couldn’t care for her children to save her life, judgmental -- she always insisted you try whatever insane weight loss trend was popular. Nonna was kind, understanding, taught you to be tough but also how to take care of those you loved, and never tried to pit you and your sister against each other. She’s honestly the only reason yours and Molly’s relationship survived.

But when she died, you took over as the family’s cook as the only person who could actually make something without burning it. Until you yourself died at the ripe age of 23, long before the rest of your family. Your family doesn’t talk about it much, but you can just imagine what the first dinner without you was like. How sad and empty, how burnt the food must have been if there even was any.

But you’re together again and your dinners were able to survive your family’s plunge into the afterlife. Apparently, so did your family home.

As soon as you entered the threshold of the home, you and Angel were smushed into a hug by Molly.

“My darlings!” She cries. Angel and you snuggle into the warm arms of your sister and wrap your arms around her.

“How are ya, Mol?” Angel asks.

“Oh, ya know, same old, same old.”

“Are those creeps giving you trouble at the store?” You take a step back and eye your sister up and down, looking for any physical manifestation that those creepy men crushing on your sister are up to no good.

“Not since you had a little chat with them, (N/N),” she teases.

Molly’s eyes brighten at the sight of your outfit.

“Ooh! You’re wearing the new skirt and blouse! It’s so pretty on you, (Y/N)! And I know I always say this but you have a great rack girl, ya gotta show it off like this more.”

You blush brightly and cross your arms over your torso.

“Gee thanks, Molly,” you mumble.

“I don’t know how you haven’t found a man yet with that bod!” She squeals and pinches your cheeks.

“Well, since ya mentioned it...” Angel smirks.

“Nope!” You shout and storm further into the house to avoid your baby siblings.

Molly looks back at Angel with an arched brow, the question looming in the air.

You make it to the kitchen, where your father and brother are heating up the food you left here last week. You turn your nose up.

“You know, I could have made something fresh. This is all a week old! And here I thought you were going to cook for once.”

“Very funny, (Y/N),” Niss grumbles, stirring the pasta sauce you had brought over last time.

“How are ya, sweetheart?” Henroin gives you a warm hug, one that is snug and warm and reserved for his unofficially favorite child.

“I’m good, dad. Doing just fine.”

“They’re running you ragged at that hotel.”

“Which means I’m left to pick up the slack,” Niss growls. You pull away from the hug and pull your brother into a forceful hug, just to make him uncomfortable. You were the same height as Niss and a year younger, and as grumpy and infuriating he can be, you always felt the closest to him. You’d like to think he felt the same, considering he scolds you the least. Or maybe that’s just because you’re way stronger than him and you have wrestled him to the ground.

“I know, but I’m doing this for Angel--”

“Anthony,” Niss hisses.

“If he tells me he wants to go by Angel, then I’m calling him Angel.” You narrow your eyes, your irises flashing a dangerous red and your teeth grow into vicious fangs in an instant. Niss rolls his eyes but backs down, trying to hide the shiver that went up his spine.

“I still don’t see how they’re supposed to help him.”

“Neither do I but I genuinely believe that that hotel is his only chance.”

“But why do you have to be there, too?” Your father asks.

“Because I’m the only one who knows how to handle him,” you beam.

“And because she’s dating the Radio Demon,” Molly squeals as she bursts in the kitchen, followed closely by a smirking Angel.

“What?!” Your brother and dad yell.

“I am not dating the Radio Demon, right, Angel?” You stalk over to him and stomp on his foot.

“Ah! Fine, fine. But she’s got him wrapped around her little finger, don’t ya, sis?”

“What the hell does that mean, (Y/N)?” Niss growls. Your father just stares at you, his eyes empty of all emotion but his shoulders are tensed.

“It means nothing. We work together and. That’s. It.” Everyone in the kitchen is staring at you. Angel is smirking, Molly is biting her lip as she holds in a squeal, Niss looks as though he’s about to punch a wall, and your dad is still staring at you. Their eyes are like deadly sunbeams and your body is a wilting flower. You wrap your arms around yourself, wishing the ground would just swallow you up and transport you to Second Hell, or whatever lies beyond this reality. A part of you finds yourself longing for arms to hold you, to wrap around you and shield you. Longing for grey arms in a red suit to protect you.

Oh jeez, maybe you do love him.

“The sauce is burning,” you break the silence and move towards the stove. “Is the pasta ready?”

“Yeah,” Henroin says and brings a bowl of noodles to the already set table. You turn the stove off and slip on two oven mitts to bring over the pot of sauce.

“Sit down,” you command. Your siblings scurry to their seats as your dad and you arrange everything on the table.

Once you’ve all sat and filled your plates (and taken away Angel’s phone), you turn to your dad.

“So what was the big announcement?” You ask.

Henroin swallows, “Not so much of an announcement, more of a request of you and Anth-- Angel. I know this hotel has been good for you,” he says to your brother. “And it sounds like it’s been... good for you too, (Y/N). But I need you to start pulling your weight around here, especially you, (Y/N).”

“Why me?” (Y/N) you ask, sending your father an incredulous look. “I thought I told you I wanted out of all of that nasty business.”

“Because some of our partners respond better to you. You have a way with people, in the way that is below my stature and beyond anything your brother can do.”

“Dad!” Niss yells, offended.

“Shut up. Now listen, (Y/N), you can still stay at the hotel, do whatever the hell it is you do there,” he gives you a pointed look, hinting that he hasn’t forgotten the Radio Demon business.

“But when I need you to attend a meeting or negotiation,” he continues. “I expect you to be there. You owe your family that.”

You look down at your barely-picked-at-plate, having suddenly lost your appetite.

“I’m guessing you have a meeting soon that you think I’d be well-suited for,” you mumble.

“There’s an Overlord we need to do some business with and I finally convinced her to have an audience. But word on the street is that she responds better to friends or women. And since we’re not friends and I’m definitely not sending Molly--”

“Daddy, you wound me!”

“--That leaves you, kid. We’re counting on you.”

You nod your head. The conversation continues, your siblings argue, Henroin gives you details for the meeting but you let it all wash over you like a wave. You actually thought you could finally start living for yourself for once, that you could stop taking care of others. You were wrong.

---

The city is alive with the sound of laughing and screaming, but all you can think about is the meeting tomorrow with Rosie, an Overlord and the owner of Rosie’s Emporium. Your eyes are heavy from the chaotic dinner, the three times you had to keep Niss from launching himself across the table at Angel, Molly talking your ear off about some cute man who would be perfect for you, and the new weight that has been added to your shoulders. It takes everything in you not to crash the car on your way home.

When you arrive back at the hotel it’s late at night and somehow Angel has boundless energy. He prances to the door, calling out about some party he’s been invited to by Cherri.

“Angel, it’s a Sunday night,” You scold.

“And? My work doesn’t exactly require me to be up and at em at 8, doll.” He bursts through the doors and immediately goes over to Husk and the bar, probably to pregame. You shuffle your way inside after him, rubbing your temples in an effort to tame the ache developing in your head.

“Oh, darling,” Alastor sings. He dances into the lobby from the kitchen, smile as wide as ever, holding two steaming mugs. Except instead of one of his pristine suits, he is dressed in slacks, suspenders, a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a red apron. He looks completely and utterly adorable, and you’re just loving the view of his lithe forearms.

As soon as he heard Angel’s voice bothering Husk, Alastor came running to the lobby with the hot chocolate he had spent hours perfecting. His first batch was too bitter, the second far too sweet for anyone’s liking, and the third was accidentally consumed by Charlie (who is now hiding somewhere in the hotel to avoid his wrath). Plus, he had to endure Charlie’s relentless teasing. But he was certain this would be the perfect cup of liquid goodness to impress his sweetest darling. And judging by your tense shoulders and the stress in the lines of your face, you would definitely be needing something to lift your spirits.

“Goodness, did the dinner not go well?”

You released a deep, exhausted sigh, and lifted your head slowly to meet his eyes. For a moment, Alastor wonders if this might have been the wrong move. You were clearly worn out. You probably just wanted to shut yourself in your room and go to bed and not have anything to do with him and his boyish attempts to woo you. Hot chocolate, really? What was he thinking? Someone like you deserved something lavish, and you would probably scoff at something so simple as a hot drink.

His shoulders deflate at your lack of smile.

“It went about the same as it always did,” you sigh. “Siblings fighting, me saving dinner, my sister trying to set me up with some man.”

Alastor has to restrain the growl bubbling up in his chest.

Your eyes fall to the two mugs in his hands. You sniff the air and smile at the rich scent.

“Is that hot chocolate?”

“Oh... yes, it is.”

“Mm, is there any left?”

“Well of course! I made this cup especially for you, dearest!” He practically shoves the mug into your hands.

You quickly lift the mug to your lips and hope to all that is good and holy that he chalks your blushing cheeks to the heat of the drink.

“Oh, Alastor, this is wonderful. Thank you. I really needed this after the night I had.” You smile up at him, the lines in your face easing immediately. It’s enough to make the Radio Demon’s knees quake.

“You are absolutely welcome...” He pauses. The original plan was to woo you with the drink, whisk you off to a remote corner of the hotel, and attempt to confess his undying love to you. But the yawn you try to stifle almost causes him to deflate. Almost.

“Would like to talk about it, love? I’m all ears! U-Unless you’re too tired. You absolutely do not have to--”

Love. Love. You grip the mug tighter.

“Actually, Alastor, that would be lovely. If you don’t mind.”

Alastor grins.

“Not at all.”

He places a hand on the small of your back and transports you both to the library. He snaps his fingers and a fire lights up the room for you both. You flop onto the couch and Alastor takes a seat beside you, making a point to sidle up to you as you proceed to detail everything about your day.

At first you were rather restrained, convinced that the last thing this important, powerful, strong, kind, considerate, lovely man wanted was to listen to your problems. But as he asked more and more questions, he opened you up like an oyster, waiting patiently for the pearl inside.

“So now I’m meeting with this Rosie tomorrow. Something about transporting her goods across territories.”

“Rosie, you say?”

“Yes. Oh, do you know her?”

“Why yes! She’s an old and dear friend. But, um, quite ruthless towards strangers. You said you’re going alone?”

“Right.”

“Is that... normal? I mean, for you to go alone to meet such dangerous individuals.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been doing so since I was 18 and alive.”

Alastor chokes on his drink.

“That young?”

“I grew up in the mafia, Al.” You send him a coy smile. “I’m not as defenseless as I look.”

“Oh, I never doubted that, dearest, but... to not have anyone there for support...”

“When you grow up the way I did, you learn not to trust anyone. Not fully at least, and definitely not until you know them well enough.”

“Is that right... Do... Do you trust me, then? Or have I not earned that honor?” Alastor smiles at you but within he is a mess. This is it. The moment you tell him that he’s far too dangerous, too vicious, too disgusting for you to ever let into your life in the way he craves.

“You’re on your way.” You smirk at him and the light floods back into his body. That’s a start.

“So, would you allow me to accompany you tomorrow then?”

“Oh, no, Alastor I could never impose on you like that--” He’s just being polite, you tell yourself. He doesn’t actually want to spend time with you outside of the hotel, isn’t actually concerned with whether you die at the hands of this Rosie.

“Nonsense, my darling.” He leans down, smelling the chocolate on your breath. His nose is so close to yours, your lips just as near to his. He could lean forward just a bit, feign a fall, just for one chance to kiss you like he’s dreamed.

“I would love nothing more than to be your knight in shining armor.”

You smile, “Just to be clear, if you are going to escort me, Alastor. I am no damsel in distress.” You boop his nose and giggle at the hot blush on his cheeks.

“But,” you continue, “I would love nothing more than to have your company tomorrow.”

“Well, then have it you shall, love.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x chubby!reader #hazbin hotel #x chubby!reader #x chubby reader #they say write the stories you want to see

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

Conversation

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 12 "Dorkus"

"I think you did it."

"These morons need someone to tear them a new one."

"I am going to write the missive to end all missives."

"I don't want your first time to be with a murderer."

"I love you. I would never, ever hurt you."

"I promise you're safe. That was part of the deal."

"You could never be touched."

"How many lives could you have saved?"

"Our mission never involved killing anyone."

"And it's not just wearing raw chickens on their heads and calling each other gay slurs while jumping around naked."

"It was a conspiracy."

"Stop rationalizing it. You killed people. You are not allowed to just say, "yeah, but I had a super good reason for it."

"Who did you kill?"

"What, are you gonna kill me now?"

"I would never hurt you. I just can't let you leave."

"If you could just stop, hear what I have to say, to understand---please--why I did what I did, you could still love me."

"Don't try to justify it all after the fact."

"They showed up one day thinking that I was a double agent, that I couldn't be trusted. They were going to kill me."

"Hey, hey, you can trust me, you can trust me! Ask me and I'll do anything. I'll prove it."

"Don't you see that they did that on purpose?! They knew that if you actually killed someone, you would be their slave!"

"We were the good guys. We were in this together!"

"I did this for you. Don't you understand?"

"The more I hear about this whole thing, the more I'm starting to think the idea that there are good and bad people in the world is just something adults use to get children to stay in line."

"I mean, aren't we being naive?"

"You took me literally?"

"You are already a murderer, [NAME], you don't have to be a douche as well!"

"This is not a philosophy course. This is murder-- serial murder!"

"I was so young and desperate to be special and loved."

"I never had a real girlfriend before."

"I was vulnerable enough to share my darkest fetish with you, and now you're making me feel self-conscious."

"Just come in and take me now."

"You are ridiculously and laughably gullible."

"What self-respecting man wouldn't do anything to get revenge for being degraded like that?"

"Unfortunately, I don't have great aim with a crossbow and I can't see anything in that mask."

"I don't want to be here anymore."

"I feel sick. This isn't what I wanted."

"Don't judge me for what we both know had to happen."

"You know what? Let's just run away together. You and me. Forget everything."

"Don't you see what I'm willing to do for you?"

"No! I don't want to speak to your supervisor!"

"I've gotten zero swipes on my profile!"

"Do you remember any aspect of this super simple plan?"

"I literally think you should consider undergoing a surgical procedure to remove your ovaries/testicles, thereby sparing human race exposure to your DNA."

"I mean, I'm all for public shaming. I practically invented it. It's the sign of a healthy culture. But not when I'm the one getting shamed."

"I wanted to be famous, but not like this."

"To all the so-called mainstream media, including weird web sites that nobody has heard of who have used my name as clickbait, and to all the relentless unwashed hordes on Twitter, who have taken every opportunity to mock and attack me mercilessly from the safety of their stained futons, I offer the following heartfelt sentiment. You can all suck it!"

"Despite my outward bravado, I was dead inside."

"I knew my glamorous reign of terror was over."

"I ordered an asp online so I could kill myself like Cleopatra, and now I'm just waiting for it to sense my body heat and come out and bite me so this will all be over."

"I understand that what you're going through is really intense. And I know you and I haven't really always seen eye to eye, And you say crazy-mean stuff to me all the time. And I have a real problem with your casual racism,

which is something we need to work on. But, girl, I promise I got your back."

"You're young, smart and beautiful, and you got a lot of living ahead of you."

"Maybe this is one of those teachable moments, you know? Like my grandmama says. Maybe this is where you learn the lesson that words really mean something and they can hurt people, so you just can't always say the first horrible thing that pops into your head all the time."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Get me out of this suit!"

"What the hell is going on? Who is that guy?"

"Everyone on campus but me is a dork!"

"I'm gonna explode."

"When I woke up, I was wrapped in dynamite!"

"Oh, my god, it's a bomb."

"Yes, a totally innocent man who seemed super nice and probably did nothing wrong at all just got blown up in our living room. Bummer. Now, let's honor his memory by moving on."

"Can you not make it about you for one second?!"

"Stop wallowing and start concentrating on what's really important here--restoring my reputation."

"I need to go on an apology tour. You know, like celebrities, when they say something offensive, they just go on tv and apologize, and everybody forgives them, even though they don't mean it at all."

"I'm gonna fake apologize, you'll record it, we'll post it online, and it'll all be fine."

"But I thought that you said that you weren't the person who put the acid in the spray tanner."

"Why do you think the devil let me live?"

"I think you saw what you wanted to see."

"You can't kill people from a loving and positive place."

"Invasion of the dad bod snatchers."

"If it's good enough for the CIA, it's good enough for me."

"Get ready to make the most important playlist of your life."

"Well, I decided to stop denying what you and I both knew the minute we laid eyes on each other. And once I did, something inside of me, I don't know, it just, just clicked. And I guess I just wanted to get a little crazy."

"So you just decided to break into my house in the middle of the day?"

"I've been a very bad boy."

"I'm just trying to figure out what your angle is. What are you trying to get out of this?"

"You know what I'm trying to get? 45 minutes alone, so I can go crazy on you."

"Turn out the lights!"

"These are my minions."

"Those are the hounds."

"How do you know I'm not the killer?"

"This whole file is made up."

"Somebody just swiped right on me on Tinder."

"Any guy swiping right on you is a miracle."

"You want a drag?"

"That was the best sex of my life."

"I think you're just relieved to find out that intercourse doesn't have to be followed by hours and hours of crying and a weird purchase of an engagement ring."

"Look, I never knew sex could be like that. At first, I was like, I was like, "wow, she's being really loud. Are the neighbors gonna call the police?" And then I was like, "wow, now I'm being really loud. why am I screaming so much? They're definitely gonna call the police." And then I was just stunned at how flexible you are. I mean, I thought you had to be a gymnast to get both feet behind your head."

"I just think that maybe you and I were meant to be together after all."

"I find her unbearably annoying."

"I recognized the island splash scent of that douche you use."

"What movie are you even referring to?"

"Don't patronize me. I look like a monster."

"Well, have you thought of a little plastic surgery?"

"What are you doing? I thought you came here to apologize."

"I apologize for nothing."

"All evidence points to you."

"I know it was you. Have fun in hell, bitch. And fyi, this is probably gonna hurt a lot."

"Stop recording!"

"I knew that bitch was a nut burger the minute I met her."