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#How TF do you draw her skirt?!
njsg · 8 months
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Dawn
Pure girl boss
Kind of cynical
Will never tolerate disrespect, especially to her loved ones.
Semi-Cranky
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ellemj · 5 months
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Wear That Again: 12 Days of Smut #7
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
This fic was inspired by two things:
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Ha16Rj/ this Tiktok edit by @the.stark.internship ( @thestarkinternship on Tumblr)
@littlemiss-yeehaw's latest smutty drawing which can be found on her blog, I've stared at it since yesterday and I'm still not over it.
Summary: Bucky ruins your brief holiday romance with a SHIELD agent out of jealousy. You'd think storming in and yelling at the super soldier would've ended in an argument and some slamming doors, but that's not what happens at all.
Warnings: profanity, some objectifying thoughts, possessive!Bucky, jealous!Bucky, thigh riding, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: I don't know how tf it's happening but y'all have me averaging 1.2k notes per day on my blog for the last couple of days and it feels surreal. Also I just want to say, I wrote Bucky out-of-character for this one-shot and this is not how I imagine he'd be at all, but it was fun to write hehe.
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            “You little fucking shit.” You finally snap as the elevator doors are opening to let you out into the common living area of the tower. “Bucky, you are such an asshole.” You’re absolutely livid, and if your words hadn’t showed that then your actions sure would’ve. You’re slamming your hands down on the kitchen island before the elevator doors have even fully closed. Bucky sits on a barstool with a near straight face, completely unaffected by your rage and only briefly looking up at you as he chews through a bite of his Chinese takeout. “You’re the reason he stood me up, aren’t you? What the hell did you do this time?”
            “Wear that outfit again.”
            You’re silent for the longest moment yet, at least fifteen seconds, and Bucky thinks it might be a new record for you. He hasn’t paid attention to a damn thing you’ve said since you walked in, but he sure as hell paid attention to what you chose to wear tonight. You were supposed to be going on your third date with a SHIELD agent who crossed your path a number of times professionally before finally asking you out two weeks ago, and with it being just six days until Christmas, you were dressing for the occasion tonight. You’re wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater that’s tucked neatly into the tiniest holiday-themed miniskirt you could find. It's a sort of festively-colored tight plaid skirt that barely covers a thing, but you didn’t wear it for any reason other than to encourage your date to rip it off of you later. However, Bucky made sure the poor guy wouldn’t even get the chance to see the damn thing.
            “What did you just say to me?” Your voice is shaking but not with fear, no. It’s shaking with the sheer amount of anger that’s currently eating you alive. Bucky lifts his gaze to meet yours as he sets his chopsticks down and picks up his half-empty beer bottle from the countertop. Letting his eyes roam over the entirety of your figure that isn’t obscured by the kitchen island, he boldly repeats himself.
            “Wear that again.”
            “If you like it, I’m burning it.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at the man before you. Bucky lets out a low laugh now, the sound is melodious but his gaze hardens and narrows as he focuses in on your face.
            “If I like it?” All he can think about is pushing you up against a wall, lifting the back of that tiny little piece of fabric you call a skirt, and fucking you until Christmas morning. If he likes it? Hell, he fucking loves it.
            “That’s it, I’m burning it.” You’ve had enough. First, he ruins your short-lived holiday romance. Then, he has the audacity to act like your outfit is doing something for him. As you said before, he’s a little fucking shit. You shoot him one last passing glare as you move around the island and start heading toward the hallway, ready to lock yourself in your room and plot his demise for the rest of the night. But Bucky just can’t let you have the last word, and he sure as hell can’t let you walk away from him looking like something that belongs under the Christmas tree. Or more accurately, something that belongs under him.
            The two of you have done this dance so many times that you aren’t even surprised when you hear his barstool slide away from the island seconds before you feel a firm hand gripping your forearm and yanking you backward. You’re not surprised when suddenly, your front is pushed roughly against the wall of the hallway and his lips graze over the shell of your ear. Frustratingly, you’re not even a little bit surprised when you feel heat rushing through your body and settling between your legs.
            “You’ll wear that outfit again, when I tell you to.” Bucky’s tone is so much less indifferent than it was only a moment ago. It’s so full of lust that it leaves you trembling, awaiting whatever his next move may be. He knows no one else is in the tower tonight, which means if he wanted to, he could take you right here in the hallway and not feel an ounce of guilt over it. Who’s he kidding? He’s done that before even with everyone in the tower, and guilt sure wasn’t the feeling he felt afterward. But he wants you in his room tonight. You and that fucking skirt.
            Bucky takes your silence as obedience and steps away from you, letting you push yourself off of the wall and turn around to face him. If you’re being honest, you’re a little disappointed. That’s all he wants from you tonight?
            “How long has it been since the last time we had sex?” Bucky questions. He knows you remember, probably down to they very hour. He remembers, but he has to make sure you do too.
            “Two weeks.” You haven’t slept with Bucky since the SHIELD agent asked you out. Bucky mulls over the length of time in his mind. He wants to remedy that, he wants to fuck you tonight, but he won’t. You started seeing someone and threw Bucky to the side so easily that him waiting two weeks to ruin your dating life was the nicest possible thing he could’ve done in retaliation. He’s not going to give you what you need now, at least not everything you need.
            Bucky’s silent as he pushes open his bedroom door and waits for you to step inside before him. He’s still silent as he sits on the edge of the bed and beckons you to stand between his legs. He begins raking his hands up the outsides of your thighs, sliding them underneath your skirt until he feels the waistband of your sheer tights. He isn’t so silent when he begins sliding those down your legs, letting out a soft groan when his hands meet your bare skin underneath. It’s been too fucking long since he’s touched you and an unfamiliar peace settles in his soul when he feels your warmth. You’re expecting him to rip the tights off, followed by the skirt and everything else you’re wearing. However, Bucky’s plan involves keeping you nearly fully clothed, and only partially satisfied. Once he has your heels and tights on his bedroom floor, he kneads your ass underneath your skirt, letting his fingertips brush over the fabric of your thong. God, he’s really practicing his restraint tonight. His cock is already hard, threatening to rip the seam of his pants with even the slightest movement, but he isn’t planning on getting his own fix tonight.
            “Sit.” He commands, gripping your hips with both hands and pulling you down to straddle one of his thighs. As soon as your clothed core makes contact with the toned muscle of his thigh, you stiffen and try to shift your weight so you won’t be so stimulated. Bucky makes an annoyed face at you before slipping one hand back underneath your skirt and drawing your panties to the side, causing your wet clit to press against the fabric of his pants. “I’m not rewarding you for spending your time with some other guy for the last two weeks, I’m not having sex with you.”
            You’re about to protest, to tell Bucky that he’s being sensitive, that the two of you never had any rules about dating, but Bucky senses your opposition and begins dragging you back and forth over his thigh. He looks down between the two of you as a wet spot quickly begins forming where your pussy meets his clothed leg. Fuck. It feels too good for you to even consider stopping and telling him that he’s an asshole. So, you go along with his guiding movements, grinding against his leg and finding just the right amount of pressure and friction to start heading toward an orgasm.
            “You didn’t have to scare the guy off.” You mutter as you lean forward, letting your hands rest on Bucky’s shoulder as you place a gentle kiss against the side of his neck. He sighs and tilts his head to the side to give you better access, but his hands continue to guide the movement of your hips.
            “Three dates were enough. I couldn’t stand it anymore.” He admits. You feel an odd sense of pride surge through you at his words, though you have no idea if he’s being honest or not. “I couldn’t let him have you like this.” You suck on the skin just beneath Bucky’s left ear and pick up the pace with which you’re grinding on his thigh.
            “Fuck, James.”
            Bucky knows this isn’t the right time for the conversation, so as you grind out an orgasm on his thigh, letting out the most heavenly moans and whimpers just for him, he tells himself to hold it together until Christmas. That’s when he’ll tell you. That’s when he’ll tell you that he wants more than the angry, hateful late-night rendezvous in his room or yours. He wants more than sitting around waiting for you to come home from a date while he nearly goes insane with jealousy. He wants more of you. Fuck, he wants all of you.
            Just as you’re coming undone on his thigh while moaning his name and squeezing his shoulders, he lets his hands snake underneath your little plaid skirt. He grips your ass with both hands, digging his fingertips into the supple skin there as he leans into your neck. You feel him take a deep breath in as you’re coming down from your orgasm high.
            “Why do you always smell so fucking good?” He asks, licking a small stripe up the side of your neck before pressing his lips against it in a soft kiss. You only hum lightly in response, your brain not quite ready to formulate a full sentence. Bucky presses a second kiss to your neck, and then a third as his works his way up to your lips. His hands move to smooth over the fabric of that little skirt that he can’t seem to get over. “Stay away from the fireplace this week. I can’t have you burning this skirt.”
TAG LIST: @sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @thealloveru2 @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @wishingforwonderland @mrsjoequinn @nixxaswrld @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @fandomsfeminismandme @missadored
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immortalarizona · 10 months
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“This is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you the Scarlet Witch.”
— Agatha Harkness
a sketch showcasing my Wanda design!! credit to @adorkastock for the pose reference used :)
below the cut is a full breakdown of my design, including its evolution, my thought process, and other unposted drawings relating to this project, so read on if you’re interested!!
okay, so real talk, I first decided I wanted to make my own Wanda design because I Could Not be bothered to keep looking up refs for whatever tf is going on with her mcu costume bodice. I mean, look at this:
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I mean, maybe it looks okay onscreen, but there’s so many fiddly little details, especially around the collar, and it was just a pain to draw whenever I would draw my Wanda. and okay I’ll be real I also wanted to distance my Wanda from the whitewashed Wendy version of her, because I Do What I Want. and also, the dullness of the reds did not spark joy within my heart. she’s the Scarlet Witch, people, not the Vaguely Maroon Witch!!
and I fell in love with the Kevin Wada design when I first saw it. it’s gorgeous, it’s sleek, it’s witchy, and it’s significantly less frustrating to draw!!
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so for a while, I drew my Wanda in a variation of this fit, blended with some of my own touches (a high ponytail + an occasional choker) and a few of the things I did like from her mcu fit (the crown + the half skirt thingamabob + the long cape). but I was still feeling :/ about it, mainly because while the off-the-shoulder design looks lovely, I found it tricky to draw whenever Wanda would raise her hands above her head. exhibit a below:
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behold, the sketch for an old drawing I never finished!! and I know artists smarter than me have figured out How The Sleeves, because some comics even today still use this design, but I only have so many brain cells to spend, and I felt like simplifying things for myself even further.
that was when Russell Dauterman’s design for the 2022 Hellfire Gala dropped. and I went FERAL.
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it’s gorgeous!! it’s stunning!! high collars my beloved!! so I took the collar design and ran with it for my own design.
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behold, a janky rendition of my costume design in the crappy colored pencils provided to us during my fashion design class!! I know, I know, the coloring looks atrocious, but I was working with what I had. now, you may have already noticed some elements not present in any of the designs I cited as my influences. let’s talk about those!!
the sleeves are split from the main bodice as gloves: this was for my own sanity, haha. it was a construction my smol lizard brain could comprehend and work with much better than Whatever is going on with the comics designs.
the red portion of the gloves tapers in kind of a V design rather than cutting off at the fingers: personally, I felt like this accentuated the elegant flow of all the hand gestures Wanda makes when using her powers better than the classic fingerless design, or whatever thumb strap thingy was going on with her MoM costume.
where’d the design for her cloak clasp come from?: now we all know that tumblr’s pixel budget is next to nil, but if you zoom in, you’ll notice that the clasp of Wanda’s cloak is not her M crown design, but rather a golden kinda coffin-shaped thingy. see, I saw this one theory that this hex shape in Wanda’s mcu bodice was an homage to Vision and the Mind Stone, and I liked that theory, so I referenced it with a hex-shaped clasp.
and the runes on her bodice and skirt?: I actually referenced the Enochian font for those!! according to wikipedia, it’s said to be the language of angels, which feels appropriate for a character as tied to cosmic powers as Wanda. also, real talk, it just looks cool. the script on her bodice originally said “not born, forged,” in reference to the Darkhold’s Scarlet Witch prophecy, but it’s become truncated as the bodice has become shorter to accommodate a more high-waisted structure, which I personally believe to be more flattering in general. I added the runes pretty late in the design process to her skirt to tie the whole fit together visually. from an in-universe perspective, I like to think of the writing as Chthon visually marking Wanda as his creation. his witch.
why does Wanda have a high ponytail when she’s never had one in her most recognizable incarnations?: because a) I do what I want, and b) Alba Flores looks STUNNING in a high ponytail.
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and let it never be said that I am not fruity as all heck about Wanda Maximoff <3
so there you have it, a Wanda design that I think is as beautiful, regal, and magical as she is, not to mention one that I can draw repeatedly without having to immediately reach for my phone to Yet Again look up references for how the heck the bodice works.
(and really, it only seemed fitting that the Scarlet Witch of Earth-19384 should receive her own unique design.)
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So, how would you have redesigned the Rainbooms' main outfits?
OKAY SO
I've gone into this before both in text and in art though I need to update them and tbh I miiiiiight do that after I finish the LL!Main Five BUT
Twilight:
God her canon main outfit is just... it's nerdy schoolgirl prep and I never really liked it? Like it works /better/ with Sci-Twi, but not Pony!Twi(I could go on a tangent on how they're different people compared to the rest of the Mane 6). ANYWAY. It's just too. It's too put together and coordinated and that is not Twilight she's not putting together cute-but-outdated nerdy outfits, she's throwing on whatever because she's running on caffeine and spite.
I tend to stick her in something simple and practical for her causal-wear. Jeans, t-shirt. Solid boots. Usually I'll have Sci-Twi in some flannel and Pony!Twi gets a long coat because she needs to have something more than just the shirt, but the two give different vibes (flannel is more cozy and normal girl. Coat demands authority and looks cool/mysterious.)
Pinkie:
She just. She needs more! More patterns, more accessories! Armwarmers, funky socks! Ribbons! Etc! (I think she'd rock some Decora looks, but I do have to think about how it's not practical to animate and even /I/ don't want to draw all that detail).
But she also needs to be aware of movement! Canon's skirt and tight jacket are not meant for a girl who is bouncing around and climbing the walls. Give her some shorts/pants, even if it's under a fluffy skirt, and something she can really move in!
Rarity:
tbh Rarity's is one of the default outfits I think is fine. /personally/ I change the style of her top, sometimes her boots, maybe add a necklace, though still keep it in the same vibes. But she ends up close to the same as Canon to me
Applejack:
AJ is 100% my favorite of the outfits because the only thing I change is giving her pants. Because seriously why tf do they refuse to give these girls any pants/shorts? And AJ, being often more practical on the whole, would prefer pants for her everyday outfit and keep skirts/dresses to special events.
Rainbow:
The top part is fine! The skirt has to go. Rainbow is not only a 'pants/shorts are more practical because I'm so active all the time' type, but she is very much against looking 'girly' and 'frilly' and would hate most skirts/dresses. Idk if you put shorts on under the skirt, just don't let her have a skirt!
Fluttershy:
Dearest. Darling. Why. No shy, anxiety filled mess(affectionate) would be wearing a miniskirt and a (white) tanktop. I mean you /can/ if you want, but when it comes to character design..... I go one of two ways when it comes to Flutters' outfit redesigns
1.) go classic and lean into the Cottagecore™ and all the soft, long, flowing stuff
2.) go practical since Fluttershy works with animals, so something with a bit of coverage but not flowing enough to be a hazard, and with lots of pockets for treats.
Bonus! Sunset:
Her original design was okay but her Friendship Games outfit???? PEAK. 10/10. No changes.
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safyresky · 3 months
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Scrimbly Jacqueline 9/52: Jacquie's term as Jack Frost in the Santa Clauses.
Yeah, you heard me right! I am stepping my toes into the series with my beloved blorbos. ME! WHO HAS NOT STOPPED COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW BAD THE SERIES IS!
Lore/musings and pre-edited scrimbly under the cut!
RIGHT SO. YEAH! AFTER TWO SEASONS OF JUST THE WORST WRITING AND NONE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND BONES BUT NO MEAT, I HAVE FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW EXACTLY CS WOULD WORK IN A TSCS UNIVERSE bc, imo, there's no way these two are from the same universe. NO way.
Right, so here's what's going on with Jack and the Frosts in tscs, and why Jacquie is ROCKING this fit. I will try to be succinct:
Jack thaws, changes, reunites with the fam, blah blah blah. Santa's very untrusting and this does not change, and I think maybe the events of CS happen the same way but Santa is a HUGE DICK the ENTIRE TIME.
Blah, blah, Pyros happens, yadda yadda, things go on and Santa just keeps getting worse--refuses to see that Jack has changed, starts saying boomer-esque things in Council meetings, to the point where every Council member can't stand him--and Jack gets the brunt of it
He complains to the fam. Winter and Blaise are like, we do NOT fuck with this Santa guy. Jacqueline is ready to throw down the more Jack tells her about things he says/does at meetings
She's like "Jack. Jack. Please. Let me at him. PLEASE."
Jack's like "We'll file that away for later."
Finally Jack has HAD it, he is too cute and pretty and has worked far too hard for this ABUSE to be levelled at him at the hands of Santa Claus. He's worth it! He knows when to take care of HIMSELF. This is a TOXIC WORK ENVIRONMENT and he will NOT be having ANY MORE OF IT
He steps tf down, Jacqueline takes over, and she is FERAL. She's WORSE than Jack. She makes things a NIGHTMARE for Santa. I have a whole THING planned for how s2 goes with her in Jack's place >:3
And THAT is what's going on here! Jacqueline has stepped up and is ready to THROW DOWN WITH SANTA who is wholly, wholly unprepared
OUTFIT BACKGROUND TIME!
The vest IS JACK'S! She steals it from him! (Santa thinks the vest works the way the Santa jacket does. Jacqueline does not correct him. In fact, she spins a terrifying tall tale of how she killed her predecessor for the spot and took the vest off his slushy, dead, body. Jack thinks it's gd hilarious. Santa is fear.jpeg)
Her hair is still snowy but with more blue and is POOFIER. It is constantly tangled/windswept. POOF BABY.
Speaking of poof: apparently it is PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE for Jacqueline to NOT wear poofy sleeves. Idk why. SO! Poof sleeve dress shirt! I used to have one just like it and I MISS it, it was so elegant~
Skirt is FIT AND FLARE BABY! Or skater skirt style. She thought of bringing back the pencil skirt and went "fuck that", she needs to MOVE and GROOVE
BIKE SHORTS! I am so sorry everyone who has done Jacquie art for this lil fact I'm about to drop on you all: she wears BIKE SHORTS under her dresses and skirts ALL THE TIME. Stops chafing and if she does a flip she's not worried about flashing people, and they are way more comfy than LEGGINGS. Cold doesn't bug her, anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(She is also prone to overheating easily. Summer sprite blood, everyone expects; I think she's just got too much energy all the time and it keeps her warm)
I did not draw them BUT with this cool work casual ish fit, she still wears her worn grimy leather boots. She's truly the messiest icon.
GREAT friends with the rest of the Claus fam btw; but NOT Scott. And the more she hears from his fam, the angrier she gets lol
AH I am SO EXCITED to unleash this design on y'all. I have been thinking about tscs!cs NON STOP this month! NON STOP! Also, February appears to be the month of FASHION JACQUELINE scrimbles, lol
I tried a lil something different with the hair! Did the messy lines in a light blue then went over it with my very light blue almost white watercolour marker. I like it!
Jack's vest is SO low cut tbh, WILDIN. Very excited when I saw that I DID have a metallic silver prismacolour pencil crayon! It looks GREAT on the VEST and it SHOWED UP IN THE PHOTO! I DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD! :D
Very proud of her hands!! And the way the watercolours worked on her glowy magic hand was AMAZING. I cackled the entire time I coloured this post lining it >:)
Anyway that's all the ramblies for this scrimbly for now. I have a bunch of other silly doods for this lil au? ??? ??? of sorts??? I uh, I prepped for this scrimbly unintentionally. Just started doodling the scenes in my head from this version of cs, so there's some funny lil scrimbles coming your way, eh. Thursday? We'll see! I have one more I NEED to draw out then I will be at peace.
Or I'm a big ol' liar and I will 100% write this whole thing and wake up 100k words later very confused.
Anyway, take the non-edited scrimble! I have yet to find a bright enough place in my house OR at work to take a decent photo of art without shadow or fucky lighting. Ah well. Maybe one day ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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frecklystars · 10 months
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This is about the commission so you can read this when your ready
It may be difficult, but if you remember what you wanted then you could write your commission in a notes app first so you can take a break if you need to. Then just copy and paste it to them [ive never commissioned someone before but i imagine you have to be specific about what you want]
Then get them to send the painting to a trusted friend to hang on to untill you are ready to open it or you could get it sent to your home and just not open it.
Getting a commission like this could be a huge step for you! but it shouldn't come at the cost of your mental health, if you think that getting the painting is going to hurt you in any way then it's completely reasonable that you don't get it and nobody is going to be mad at you.
[Sorry if this doesn't make sense ive never gotten a commission before so i dont know much about the prosses, but i do hope this helps and uh sorry for the block of text]
Hi sweet anon! 🥰💐 Thank you for reaching out!
Yep you got the process correct! Luckily a year ago I already set everything up, I have my request prepared and written out, I have my reference of my S/I ready in her pretty flower skirt and I have my money set aside... the only thing I really have left to do is hit "send".
With Starscream, he's different, I don't feel panicky/devastated the same way that I do with other TF characters when I'm triggered; I don't get any violent flashbacks when I look at Starscream as often anymore, but now instead I will feel... how do I describe it, this... immeasurable GRIEF in my chest, like this horrible, overwhelming pressure in my chest that makes me sob uncontrollably for several minutes. I think it's because Starscream saved my life and my self ship with him was the most wholehearted, unconditional feeling of love I've ever had with any of my ships I've worked on, and I purchased so many personalized voice clips from his voice actor back when he had those available on cameo which made me feel even closer to the character... and I guess seeing this character now and immediately associating him with my abuser and no longer feeling that Love™ with him just makes me feel so depressed over what I'd lost. And my brain tends to have an all or nothing view of things, so when I see Starscream and think "oh god I miss him, I've lost him", I'll also think "I've lost him forever and I'm never going to feel safe with him ever again" which is what makes me hesitate to spend so much money on a commission. I mean, I know I'm not going to have a panic attack if I view it, which is great. but I know I might cry my eyes out unless if I'm miraculously cured within 4-8 months, but who knows 😅
I really like your suggestion of not opening it until I'm ready! I didn't even think of that being a possibility. I actually ended up doing that with an autograph from Steve Blum, I ordered it in January even though I felt super numb, and when it arrived in the mail sometime months later, I still didn't open it for probably 6 months. I still felt sad when opening it, but at least I waited until I was absolutely ready, and I felt more in control of whatever reaction I'd have to it. And you have made another good point, that this could be a rly good step to healing for me. The therapist I'm seeing for my trauma is constantly telling me I have to get back into the habit of self shipping again, even if it's so hard, I literally have to try to train my brain into remembering how TF used to give me serotonin, haha. I haven't felt ready to draw myself with him yet, but hey, maybe paying someone to make a really gorgeous professional painting of Starscream staring into my eyes lovingly while holding my hands in the soft light of the moon? Maybe it'll make me feel better.
Thank you for your help, anon!!! 🌟✨
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notanotherreidgirl · 3 years
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idk if this is too intense for you, if it is feel free to ignore but i wanted to send in a request :)
Catching perv spence looking in elles bag somehow and then bringing elle in to punish him together and you make him wear the panties while degrading tf outta him and slapping his ass and pulling his hair and all that good stuff! if you want to add or take anything out that works too btw! have fun with this :)
Three's Company
Summary: Reader catches Spencer stealing a pair of Elle's panties
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Elle Greenaway x Reader
Warnings: sub!spence, perv!spence, threesome, spencer wearing panties and a skirt, oral sex (female receiving), degradation, spanking, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, face riding
Word Count: 1374
A/N: This is straight porn. I could not look my mother in the eye for hours after I wrote this. This is part 1 of the Mommy & Ma'am series.
Elle’s door opened silently and you smiled to yourself, excited to be surprising her for once. Neither of you was too keen on labels but at some point after a month of covert glances and late-night calls and hands not-so-innocently brushing against each other, Hotch had the good sense to make you share a room. That was three weeks ago. Three weeks of mind-blowing sex and maybe - just maybe - the beginning of something more.
So imagine your surprise when you found Spencer in her room instead. Shy, adorable Spencer who could barely look at you for 5 minutes without flushing a deep scarlet and stumbling all over his words. You often caught him blatantly staring at your chest and it would be a lie to say that he didn’t prompt you to introduce more low-cut blouses into your work attire. Just the other night Elle had teased you about him, saying that you should put him out of his misery before he had an aneurysm in the bullpen. He was crouched by the foot of her bed and you took a cautious step forward to see what he was looking at.
You sucked in a sharp breath. It was a pair of Elle’s panties, delicate black lace that fit her like a second skin. They were a gift and you couldn’t help the heat that pooled between your thighs when you recalled how Elle thanked you. Unfortunately, you had alerted Spencer to your presence and he whirled around in shock, still clutching the underwear in one hand. “Y/N, shit! I’m not - This isn’t what it looks like!”
“Oh really? Because it looks like you’re stealing Elle’s panties.” You tried to look mad but an amused smile pulled at the corner of your mouth. He scrambled to find an excuse, some explanation that would exonerate him but he came up empty. What could he say? Instead, he opted for a pleading look. Those puppy dog eyes nearly persuaded you to be merciful but Spencer always had the worst luck.
“Put them on.” Elle’s voice took both of you by surprise.
She kicked the door closed behind her and cocked her head to the side, a telltale sign of growing impatience. Spencer’s eyes widened and he looked between you and Elle in disbelief. He tried to seem reluctant but the truth was that he was incredibly turned on which was quickly revealed as he undressed. His hands trembled as he pulled the panties up, gasping slightly as the coarse material scraped over his leaking sex.
“You like playing dress-up, don’t you?” Elle crossed the room with three long strides. Spencer gave a weak nod but she didn’t bother to look, already rooting around in her bag and unearthing a little red skirt. “Put this on too. If you’re gonna act like a slut, you better look the part.”
He complied without hesitation, much too excited to be living out one of his biggest fantasies to be concerned with his ego. The air was knocked from your lungs when Spencer managed to squeeze the skirt up to his hips. He was so pretty, you had to sit down to stop yourself from pouncing on him.
Elle lifted the front of the skirt with a finger. “Look how cute his little cock is in my panties. I should make you wear them all the time.” But her mood darkened when she saw that they were already soaked with precum. “Y/N bought me these panties and now you’ve ruined them”
“No, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to” he looked at her with pure desperation but Elle was not known for her forgiveness. “Get on your knees”
He dropped so quickly it gave you whiplash and you hardly had time to process the fact that Elle was guiding him in front of your parted legs. “Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Y/N”
He started to stammer out an apology but Elle shut him up by grabbing his chin harshly. “No. None of this ‘I’m sorry’ bullshit. Apologize properly”
He looked up at you frantically as you gathered your wits about you and quickly shimmied out of your underwear and sleep shorts, unwilling to incur Elle’s wrath. Spencer nearly fainted at the sight of your glistening core and he didn’t waste any time pushing himself up on his hands and knees to lap at your folds. He explored you fervently, barely pausing to breathe. Just as he began to relax, Elle bunched up the back of the skirt and brought a hand down hard. You felt him jump, moaning into your cunt as she laid three more blows in quick succession. He whimpered at the harsh sting and the vibrations sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine. “I’ll stop when you make her cum”
That was all the encouragement he needed, doubling his efforts. He flattened his tongue and licked a stripe up your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. A strangled cry left your lips and you threw your head back, relishing in the sound of Elle ceaselessly slapping Spencer’s raw flesh. It was all too much and you were tumbling over the edge in no time, moaning out a string of obscenities as the force of your orgasm wracked through your body. As promised, Elle stopped but she immediately grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back so he was looking up at you. “What do you think, Y/N? Does he deserve to cum? Was he as good as me?”
She smiled wickedly as she asked her last question, already anticipating your answer. “No one’s as good as you.”
Spencer was incredible. At one point, you were convinced he had transported you from this earthly realm to another of pure, unadulterated pleasure but Elle was on a whole other level. She could have you shaking in seconds, drawing out one climax after another until you couldn’t see straight, much less think.
“That’s just too bad” she shook her head in disapproval as she pulled him up by his hair. “No, no, please. I can do better. I swear. I’ll do anything you want”
“You’re so fucking pathetic, Dr. Reid. Begging for it like a whore” she pushed him onto the bed and gestured for you to straddle him. She pushed the panties to the side and drew her hand up his length. “Do you know how to use this?”
He nodded vigorously, desperate to please. “Prove it then.”
Elle’s free hand settled onto your lower back and you leaned into her touch as she guided you down his length. You let out a little gasp when you were fully seated, feeling impossibly full. Spencer wasn’t doing much better, head thrown back against the pillows and eyes screwed shut in an attempt to hold back his release. But Elle wasn’t done. She joined you on the bed, swinging a leg over Spencer’s face and bracing her hands on his chest so she could watch you ride him. “I don’t care how good it feels, you don’t come until we do”
Feeling bold, Spencer grabbed onto Elle’s thighs and brought her down closer with no regard for his respiratory needs. As far as he was concerned, if this was how he went he would die a happy man. He pulled out all the stops, circling her entrance with his tongue before delving inside and tipping his head forward so his chin brushed against her clit. All the while you were bouncing on his cock in search of your release, letting out soft moans each time he bottomed out. You were so close, needing just a little more to reach your climax. Elle was lost in the paradise that was Spencer’s tongue but she managed to make out your pleading look and brought a hand to your clit. “Come for me, darling.”
It was like you set off a chain reaction. Your release propelling Elle to come on Spencer’s face which was all the permission he needed to flood you with warmth. With uncoordinated movements, Elle reached forward to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss as the three of you were swept up in each other.
361 notes · View notes
itsallyscorner · 3 years
Note
Oooh, Tom x reader request idea
Reader colored her hair or is wearing a wig just for fun and paparazzi pictures are taken from the back when they’re together so it looks like Tom’s cheating on reader and even reader gets freaked out at first but they have a laugh about it in the end
Thank you for the request darling! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to do. While celebrating the holidays then going back to school, I’ve been busy😭 But thank you again, and enjoy!💞
💌.
Ginny
If you’re a redhead I’m sorry😭 I couldn’t think of any other characters and this came to mind.
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The harsh light peaking in from behind the curtains made you groan. You threw the comforter over your head and blocked the sun from your eyes. Tom shifted beside you, tightening his arm around your bare waist and pulling you closer into his chest. He emitted a light “humph” and snuggled into the back of your neck. The slight ache in your head made you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ease the pain. You kept your eyes closed till the ache subsided, trying to remember a single thing that happened last night.
Honestly, the whole night was a complete blur. All you remembered was that Tom, Harrison, and Harry had persuaded you into joining them at the local pub near your shared place for a quiz night. At first you didn’t want to go; you loved the lads but when it came to a game or something that tested their wits, they were intolerably competitive. Game nights with them usually ended with: Harry crying in frustration, Tom on the verge of committing murder, Harrison turning furiously red in anger, and Tuwaine yelling at someone for screwing up the game. Game nights were just a mess.
You were hoping for a quiet night alone at the house, but no such luck, Tuwaine had plans with his girlfriend. Which meant all three men came to you to fill up his spot.
“Please (y/n), we need four people in our group to go.” Harry begged, resting his head on your shoulder and looking up at you with puppy eyes. Tom stood in front of you, using his body to block the tv, and diverting your attention to him.
“Guys, why can’t it just be the three of you?” You questioned the men surrounding you.
“Because the pub said it has to be in groups of four and we believe you’ll be a perfect addition to our team.” Harrison answered from your left side. A cheeky grin on his face.
Tom could tell by your features that you still weren’t convinced on going. He uncrossed his arms and kneeled in front of you on the couch. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, putting his weight on your lap and placing his chin on your chest.
Looking up at you with his soft brown eyes he said, “Please come with us, I promise it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it, darling.”
Your lips pursed together in thought while your eyes panned between the three of them, “You guys know how you all get during game nights.”
Tom huffed, his breath causing strands of your hair to move from your face.
“I know—we all know. But we promise to be on our best behavior. Plus, we’ll be on the same team, no competition.” Your boyfriend reassured you, his thumbs drawing circles onto your hips.
Harry snorted, “Yeah, besides the other five to seven teams we’re up against.”
“Oh, we’re winning. We got these two on the team.” Harrison bragged motioning to you and Tom.
“I didn’t agree yet.” You objected, holding your finger up.
“Yet.” Tom repeated, emphasizing the word.
Harrison nudged your shoulder, “Come on, (y/n)! We’ll have a great time. We might even win a free happy hour if we win the quiz.”
Harry shimmied beside you, “And what do we say about free drinks in this house?”
You rolled your eyes, defeated, “Never turn down a free drink.” The boys cheered around you, hyping you up.
“Come on, baby.” Tom encouraged you, hopeful eyes remaining on yours. You sigh, throwing your head back against the couch.
“Fine, I’ll go.” A round of cheers filled the room once again. Harrison and Harry squeezed you into a hug, sandwiching you in between them. When they pullled away, Tom gathered you into his arms and lifted you up.
“YES! I LOVE YOU!” He squealed happily, repeating that he loved you and pressing multiple kisses all over your face.
Well you guys must’ve won the pub quiz last night because the last thing you can clearly remember was entering the pub and the first two rounds of the quiz. The topic of last night’s quiz was Harry Potter; both being huge fans of the series, you and Tom completely breezed through the quiz, getting most of the questions (that you can remember) correct.
A buzz came from your phone, followed by another buzz, and another. The sudden movement of your phone made you peak your head from under the covers. Squinting from the light, you blindly reached for your phone and brought it under the comforter with you. When your eyes were fully adjusted to your screen you saw there were two texts from your cousin.
Tf is this?
Sent Photo ⃞
Your brows knitted together at the message. Curiously, you slide on the notification and open iMessages. The picture downloads and you see that it’s Tom, wearing glasses, black pants, and a grey knit sweater. Although on his arm, latched a redhead wearing similar attire as him but with a tight skirt instead of pants. There were a few more pictures attached. Some where Tom wrapped his hand around the mystery person’s waist and another with him kissing her face.
Your heart’s pace quickened as you glanced at the man cuddled beside you. Your eyes shift back to the phone; that definitely wasn’t you. But at the same time, you had no recollection of anything that happened after drinks were handed out. You stared at the pictures again, an expression on your face that resembled something along the lines of a scowl and a look of confusion. You really didn’t know what happened last night. You zoomed into the pictures, trying to get a proper look at the woman’s face, but to no avail, her face was either not in the shot or Tom was in the way.
You force yourself up into a sitting position and harshly smack Tom’s arm. He immediately startles awake; jumping into his senses making the bed shake. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. He looks around the room for some kind of threat but saw nothing. He did another scan around the room before looking up at you with wide eyes.
“Were you the one who slapped me?” He groggily asked, ducking into your side when the sun’s light connected with his eyes.
“Oh I don’t know, maybe ask that redhead you were hanging out with outside of the pub.” You retorted, still glaring at your phone. The tone of your voice causes Tom to whip his head from your side. A quizzical look is on his face as he thought back to the previous night. Surprisingly, he didn’t get as drunk last night. For once, he was one of the sober ones. You, on the other hand, were another story. Though he didn’t blame you for going on a drinking spree, work had been stressing you out and you barely got any leisure time.
“Huh—baby, what are you on about?” His voice is deep and rough from sleep. Sexy, but right now his voice was the least of your worries.
“What redhead? The only redhead that was there was—“ He couldn’t finish his sentence because you were shoving your phone in his face.
“This one?” Tom whines and leaned his head back to get a better look. When he saw the picture on your phone, his eyes slowly panned to you. Your arms were crossed and a scowl was on your pretty face. You were pretty even when you were angry.
“Did the drinks really fuck you up that much?” He wondered out loud, a hint of amusement in his words. He took your phone and began swiping through the pictures with a grin on his face.
You felt the blood in your body boil while your boyfriend looked through the pictures of that woman with a stupid smile on his face. You snatched the phone from him, “Well maybe, because who the fuck is this chick?”
“Are you jealous?” He teased you, poking your side. You slapped his finger away and glared at him.
“Oh I don’t know, a woman I barely know is hanging on my boyfriend’s arm! I’m not jealous—I’m just—a concerned girlfriend who wants to know what the hell happened last night.” You crossed your arms again, proud of the excuse you made up. Though, you really did want to know what happened last night.
“Darling, that’s literally you.” Tom pointed out, finally bursting out laughing. The scowl was wiped off your face and replaced with a look of confusion. Tom rested his head back on his pillow and watched you look through the pictures again. Your brows were scrunched together and a pout was on your lips, tempting him to press a kiss onto them. His arms slithered around your waist again, pulling you down so you were laying down against him.
“(Y/n), I’m serious that’s you. Do you really not remember?” Tom adjusted himself to place your head on his chest. Your lips were pursed together, eyes still trained on your phone screen.
“But my ass does not look that good from the back.” You muttered, zooming in on said area. Tom snorted and pinched your ass cheek, “You’d be surprised, lovey.”
It was quiet between you two while you continued to study the pictures. Tom said it was you, but it really didn’t look like you from behind.
“Remember it was Harry Potter night? Harry thought it would be a fun idea to dress up as the characters, so we ended up going as Harry and Ginny.” He reminded you, softly brushing tangles out of your hair with his fingers. Your mouth went slack as realization set in.
“Oh my God, yes!” You exclaimed leaning up on your elbows to look up at him. There was a hint of humor in his eyes and a lazy grin was set on his lips.
“How could I forget that I was wearing a wig? Where is that damn thing?” You leaned over Tom’s body and began to look over the bed to get a glimpse of the floor. Tom chuckled motioning to your makeup desk in his room. You find the desk and, lo and behold, was the red almost orange wig in all its glory. You shook your head at yourself and at the slow moment you were going through.
You turn back to Tom, “Honestly, what the fuck?” The two of you bursted out laughing, the sounds of your joy filling the room.
“I feel so stupid.” You groaned, shoving your face into Tom’s chest. He let out a giggle, thinking over what just happened in his head again. His large palm smooths circles onto your back, slowly making you doze off again.
“Don’t be, you were drunk as hell last night. I didn’t expect you to be in the right state of mind so early in the morning.” He reassured you, pressing feather light kisses along your head.
You hummed, getting lazy to respond.
“I’m sorry for getting too drunk.”
Tom shook his head, “No, you deserve to have a few shots and a generous amount of pints. I know work’s been hectic and then we all dragged you out on your free night; it’s the least we can do, seeing as we disturbed your down time.”
You shrugged, “I actually enjoyed going—well from what I can remember. I had a really good time.” You move your head to look at him, “Please tell me I didn’t do anything ridiculous.”
A smile was instantly on Tom’s face, “My favorite was when Harry kept on bringing you drinks and you started to believe that he was a house elf. So you started calling him Dobby.”
“Is that all?” You asked before drifting off to sleep. A faint smile on your lips.
Tom snickered, “You tried to offer him your sock.”
Tags: tags with a line crossed through it do not work!
Tom Holland Taglist ↴
@lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @cuddlykoala101
General Taglist ↴
@quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @roserose26
436 notes · View notes
fr-ogii · 3 years
Text
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mina ashido headcanons.
x gn!reader; poc friendly
masterlist
⚠️= kind of angsty
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individual/general ::
⇢ she’s allergic to something really specific, like a brand of peanut butter that can only be made every seven blue moons (unless it occurs on a tuesday) or something ridiculous like that
⇢ always has her shoelaces tied in the really cool patterns that have stars or something
⇢ a major fan of pewdiepie for at least five years
⇢ sleeps with her head under her blanket and her feet poking out
⇢ her favorite animal is a lion, lioness specifically
⇢ her spotify unwrapped #1 song was Maniac by Conan Gray and her #1 artist was MARINA
⇢ has a stack of bandaids available to her at all times. she needs them, trust me.
⇢ mina. has. adhd.
⇢ “darling you’re so pretty it hurts” (bad idea, girl in red) is her favorite quote ever
⇢ her entire humor is based on classic vines and tiktoks that come up on her for you page
⇢ ⚠️please don’t ever let her get her heart broken. she will never be the same after it. she is no longer the peppy, quirky girl you know and love. whoever broke her heart better start praying before the rest of 1a comes and beats their ass.⚠️
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platonic ::
⇢ she was the one that taught you and todoroki how to edit
⇢ her birthday gift for you was a journal she filled with notes about how much she loved you (/p) and drawings she made of you
⇢ won’t hesitate to knock tf out of someone who makes fun of you. she doesn’t even know how to physically fight and has a quirk that could permanently scar someone but she forgets all that and gives them a black eye.
⇢ her entire tiktok page is videos she took of you or with you. she just wants to worship you and needs to share your amazing self with the world. dw, she asked for permission before posting every video.
⇢ writes diss tracks about your exes with you (or without you, she has so much tea on them)
⇢ got skirts for everyone in the bakusquad, including you. yours was a fluffy lace patterned one.
⇢ you’ll find out on your fifth sleepover how messed up of a sleep schedule this girl has. the first couple times you wrote it off as wanting to stay up with the excitement of being with her friends but she really goes to be at 12am and wakes up every couple hours after that until it’s time for school every. night.
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romantic ::
⇢ doesn’t even realize she has a crush on you at first but it’s obvious to everyone else. everytime she sees you or talks to you she acts all shy and giggles constantly. if her face wasn’t already pink you would definitely notice her blush.
⇢ scrunches up her face whenever she gives you eskimo kisses
⇢ if you have natural hair you want braided she will offer to do it no hesitations. her braids aren’t really consistant but they’re made with love <333
⇢ if you don’t have natural hair she’ll encourage you to learn how to braid and take care of natural hair. she feels a bit selfish for asking you to learn these things to take care of her but one look at your face reminds her how in love with you she is. you would do anything for her :)
⇢ if you ever move in together you’ll quickly notice how much she writes on the walls. if you look closely you’ll notice that they’re pretty much all love notes for you. please consider writing some back to her.
⇢ takes like two minutes to get ready for your dates, she’s just so excited.
⇢ she’ll be just as giggly as she was back in ua when she first got a crush on you if you kiss her horns. just like shoto with his scar, she will want to marry you on the spot
⇢ she wants to get her septum pierced with you. it takes a lot to persuade her not to try getting it done at claire’s.
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97 notes · View notes
laurensprentiss · 3 years
Text
Jouska [Hotch x Reader]
Chapter 11:
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Gif Credit: @dudeitiskarev
A/N: I told you shit was going to kick tf off! Poor Hotch is not having a good day today.
Warnings: Explicit details of injury, strong language. 
———
“Each meeting occurs at the precise moment for which it was meant. Usually, when it will have the greatest impact on our lives.” - Nadia Scrieva
———
‘Fitzgerald House’ sits in white letters on an antique black board at the gateway entrance. Hotch turns over the engine and peers over at the notebook in McCall’s hand, squinting at the gated estate in front of him. 
They’re buzzed in by a security guard, and as they drive up, the estate expands. A pillared terrace is framed by dark brick, neatly trimmed shrubs line the circle driveway and encase a grand fountain. Behind it, a set of antique double doors are framed by more huge pillars and blossom trees umbrella the pathway. 
“Are you sure this is the right address, Aaron?” Mccall asks.
He nods. “Fitzgerald House. This is it.”
They step out of the car simultaneously, looking around them, the estate more intimidating up close. There’s something cold about this place, a familiarity he identifies with all too well. 
“This seem like the kind of place a twenty-something lives in?” McCall asks in disbelief. 
Hotch scoffs, air leaving his nose in an exhale. “Senator Fitzgerald’s twenty-something.” 
Hotch is light on his feet, feels as though he’s dirtying the kept tile pathway just by walking on it. Truth is, he’d grown up in a home like this - or spent his summers there at least. He’d felt just as uncomfortable then as he does now. He knows what kind of people are on the other side of those doors, and knows the kind of people that live here. Cold, calculating, drenched in privilege, toxicity and unbearable expectations. 
Borderline abusive. 
He was raised by them. 
He pulls his credentials from his inside pocket and reaches for the doorbell. They take a minute or so and when there’s no answer, he makes a fist and bangs on the door with the side of it. 
“Open up, FBI.” 
A woman finally pulls open one of the double doors, straining almost with the weight of it, the oak creaking. She’s around 40 years old, stands at 5’4 and she’s thin, dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, greying slightly towards her hairline. A black and white apron completes her uniform.
“FBI? Can I help you?” She speaks with an accent, a thick lilt to her words. Eastern European, maybe, Hotch thinks. 
“I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Agent McCall. We’re with the FBI.” They flip their credentials to show the lady, her eyes squint to read the writing on them. “And you are?” 
“I’m the housekeeper. Carolina.” She says. 
“Hello, Carolina. We’re looking for a Jordan Fitzgerald?” Hotch inquires with a smile. 
“Oh.” She stutters and glances behind her, frozen in place. 
“May we come in?”
“Yes, yes, sorry. Please, come in, I think Mr. Fitzgerald is still in bed. Just a second.” 
They step into the foyer of the home, taking in the room - it’s bright and airy, a white marble staircase leading up and off into both directions sits in the middle, framed by a dark bannister. The refined marble floor, and white walls make the both of them feel uncomfortable, uneasy. Tight-lipped family portraits and oil paintings of numerous well to do ancestors line the walls, casting a disapproving eye.
To the right, is a drawing room, where Carolina seats the two men, plush leather sofas are carefully placed in front of a massive window with a view of the front garden. An oversized antique ceramic vase sits in the corner of the room, perfectly polished and buffed.
Hotch swallows uneasily, his eyes scanning the room. 
They both sit tentatively, careful not to scuff the antique rug that lays below them. McCall glances at his watch and mutters to Hotch, taking care to look around so nobody hears him. 
“Bed? It’s noon.” 
Hotch scoffs, raising his eyebrows sarcastically. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, sees some missed calls from Haley that he skips over, shooting off a quick text to you. 
Hey. Good luck with your dad today. 
Talking to you is fast becoming one of the best parts of his day - he feels a little like a teenager again. His phone buzzes and he hopes it’s your name on the screen, he has a spring in his step whenever he’s on duty and he doesn’t have as much trouble waking up in the morning, knowing that you’re waiting for him. 
He’s suddenly ripped from his thoughts when giggles erupt from the top of the stairs, and two sets of footsteps approach. Hotch cranes his head in unison with McCall as a blonde woman with dishevelled blonde hair and smudged eyeliner stumbles down the stairs, shirt buttons done unevenly and skirt askew. 
She carries her shoes in her hands and has a purse tucked under her arm - Hotch concludes that she was probably drunk last night, the effects of which she’s still feeling now if her stumbling is any indication. 
Who he assumes is Jordan, trails behind her with a grin on his face. He’s undressed with only a pair of boxer shorts covering him and a dressing gown that lays open. Hotch and McCall shoot each other a wordless look and Aaron has to fight to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 
Jordan surprisingly has the decency to walk his unnamed friend to the front door, who turns and plants what looks like a messy and unpleasant kiss on his mouth. 
This is Jordan? 
Nice.
He’s tall but still stands a couple of inches shorter than Hotch, he’s broad with brown hair and matching eyes and has a tattoo across his clavicle, which he covers up when he pulls his dressing gown closed. McCall clears his throat when the unnamed friend releases herself from Jordan’s grip and turns to leaves after having Jordan swat her ass crudely. 
Jordan turns his attention then to the agents in his drawing room, padding towards them as they both stand in unison to introduce themselves. He glances at Hotch, eyes narrow, a miniscule flash of recognition appearing on his face. He subconsciously squares his shoulders and stands up a little straighter, gaze falling to the FBI badge Hotch has pinned on his lapel. 
“Mr. Fitzgerald? We’re with the FBI.” McCall tells him with an outstretched hand. 
Jordan takes it warmly, plastering a smile on his face. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”
McCall tells him that they’re here in connection with an ongoing case regarding you, to which Jordan has surprisingly little reaction, Hotch notes. 
Instead, he turns his attention to Hotch. “FBI huh?” He places his hands in his hips, an obvious attempt at trying to assert his dominance, and Hotch sees right through him. “Impressive,” he continues. “How old are you anyway, man?” His words drip with sarcasm and do nothing to veil the obvious insecurity he feels. 
He unsuccessfully tries to level with Hotch, subtly tiptoeing. 
Hotch’s jaw clenches as he looks down at Jordan. “24.” 
He repeats Hotch’s words slowly, ignoring McCall - who finds himself frozen in place, uneasy with the almost confrontational atmosphere between his partner and Jordan. 
“Wow. Someone’s ambitious. Got a lot to prove-” he flicks his badge. “Hotchner?” 
Hotch finds the words on the tip of his tongue, wants to chew this asshole out for being a sleazy piece of shit, difficult and lazy. But the thing that really bothers him, the thing that makes Hotch want to give him a black eye, is the fact that at one point, you were his - and his own actions sent you running back into Jordan’s arms. 
That thought makes his stomach drop, because it’s a feeling he’s wholly unfamiliar with. 
Jealousy. 
And he finds that most disconcerting of all. 
He’s used to being able to do his job with a degree of separation and compartmentalisation, to keep his emotions in check - but he finds himself in a predicament now, one that’s becoming alarmingly clear. The lines are blurred and he knows it, no matter how hard he tries to push it down. 
But he tries anyway. 
He takes a deep breath and goes on. “You mind putting some clothes on, bud? We have some questions for you?” His tone is biting, condescension masked with amiability, similar to the way he would speak to a child. He tacks on the ‘Bud’ to purposely get a rise out of Jordan. 
If there’s one thing he learned from his parents growing up, it was how to get under people’s skin with a smile plastered on his face, and he knew people like Jordan. 
He used to be a Jordan.
Jordan steps towards Hotch, his eyes narrow, a slew of expletives on the tip of his tongue no doubt until McCall subtly steps between them. He stops in his tracks, eyes still focused on Hotch standing behind McCall. 
His demeanour changes completely and suddenly, the animosity melting away to make way for his initial warm manner. 
He takes a deep breath and plasters an unnerving smile on his face. 
With a tilt of his head, he says, “I actually have back to back appointments today, may I come into your offices tomorrow?” His cadence sounds eloquent, polite, the way Hotch knows he was probably raised to speak. 
He frowns at the rapid 180. 
McCall subsequently agrees to let Jordan come into the office to keep the peace but Hotch knows better. The only appointments he would have would be with a few lines of coke and a bottle of scotch if his jaw movements and body odour were anything to go by. 
Still, Ben hands him a business card and tells him to come by at around 3pm for a few questions and bids him a quick goodbye. 
Hotch’s phone buzzes on his way out, a message from you telling him that you’re on your way to your father’s with Emily. 
‘Oh and like three MPD officers.’’ You add. ‘One’s new I think? How’s it going with Jordan?’ 
A small smile creeps its way onto his face while his attention is diverted and his eyes are glued to his phone. 
Jordan watches Hotch and McCall walk back down the pathway and into the car. His eyes narrow from the doorway as he gives a cursory glance to the business card he holds between his index and middle finger, and he flicks it onto the ground outside. 
McCall clears his throat once they’re in the car, but Hotch’s attention is still directed at his phone. He clears his throat again, a little louder this time.
Hotch’s eyes dart up as he looks at McCall. “What?” He asks innocently, slipping the phone into the centre console. 
“That who I think it is?” 
“Yeah, I just checked in to see if everything was alright.” He rubs the back of his neck, a dead giveaway gesture to anyone who knew him well enough.  
“Yeah? Then why do you look like that?”
“Like what-”
Without warning, McCall reaches over and pulls down the driver’s seat visor, sliding the mirror cover over. Hotch’s face is flushed, a ghost of a smile on his face, akin to a smug teenager. His guilty reflection stares back at him and stops him in his tracks. He didn’t realise he looked like that when he was thinking about you and he’s alarmed at how transparent he is. 
No, he thinks. So what? It’s warm, it’s even warmer in this car. 
It’s fine.
Still, he sighs, rolls his eyes. “What?” Hotch says, insistent as he turns a little in his seat. 
McCall sighs deeply next to him, hesitant. “Just. Be careful.” He says, head tilting to motion to his phone. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You know what I’m talking about, Aaron.” He says, his voice low. “I see the way you look at her. And what about that little display inside? Why were you so confrontational with Fitzgerald?” 
He rolls his eyes. “Oh come on. You gotta be kidding me! You saw the way he was antagonising me-”
“-Yeah and your job is to stay calm no matter what. You’re not supposed to let people get a rise out of you, especially not if you want a place at the BAU one day. Gideon got word of you, he thinks you’re good. Prove him right.”  
He sounds like an older brother lecturing him, but he has a point, Hotch thinks. Why was he so bothered by Jordan? 
He knows why. He doesn’t know how much longer he can deny it.
The feelings he’d tried so hard to bury deep inside were quickly rising to the surface, faster than even he could get a handle on them. Maybe all he could do at this point was to relax his body and let the water carry him - sink or swim. The possibility of what could be, maybe it was too big to keep fighting. 
He has feelings for you. 
He has feelings for you despite the numerous conflicts of interest, despite the moral implications and the danger to your investigation. 
He swallows dryly. 
“You have feelings for her.” McCall says, mirroring his conscience. 
He doesn’t know what to say back, but he certainly can’t bring himself to deny it. He’s not that good of a liar. Yet. 
He just stares back at McCall whose face is etched in concern for his partner. 
He has feelings for you. 
———
It’s dark when you hug your father goodbye. You hadn’t realised just how homesick you’d been for him until you’d visited today, more so now as you’re about to leave. 
You stand in the dreary rain and apologise again for not telling him about the restaurant incident, reassuringly rubbing his hand as you tell him you’re going to be okay. 
“Really, truly.” You tell him over the patter of the rain. “I’m going to be absolutely fine. I have Emily watching over me now.” 
He nods and places a kiss on your forehead. “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I still worry.” He sighs. “Bye, baby.” 
You wave to him one last time, pulling your coat closer to your body before you and Emily drive away, MPD leading the way. You glare at her, watching her avoid your looks. She grips the wheel a little tighter, and keeps glancing in the rear view mirror despite there being nothing there. 
After a minute or so, she grits between her teeth, “What? I can feel you staring at me.” 
“You told Dad?” You hiss. “I specifically told you not to, and you still told him?” 
“I’m sorry! He asked me outright if anything had happened, what was I supposed to do? Lie?”
“Yes!” You squeal. “Yes! You’re supposed to lie if I ask you to!”
“Come on, that’s bullshit and you know it. He deserves to know that you’re okay. Think about it, what if it had been him? You’d wanna know.” 
In your attempts to not worry him, you’d forgotten that you were all he had, too. Maybe he was right for holding on so tight. 
“I am sorry, though. I should’ve let you tell him.” Emily whispers, glancing at you. 
“No.” You shake your head and apologise too. “You were right.” 
“Does he fly out tomorrow?” 
“Uh, no. Tonight. Some trip that’s been scheduled for months,” you reply distracted, watching the officers in front of you. 
The MPD car turns its hazard lights on, signalling to pull over on the side of the quiet road. You peer at the vehicle in front of you, confused, checking with Emily who shrugs. A text from one of the officers reads, 
‘Reports of a disturbance ahead, assessing alternate route.’ 
“Better settle in.” You show Emily the text and relax into your seat a little better now, leaning your head against the headrest and resting your eyes as the heater runs in the background. The rain slows to a drizzle now. 
She unbuckles her seatbelt to turn her seat. “Can I ask you a question?” Emily says after a while. 
“Sure.” You reply, eyes remaining closed. 
“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” She whispers.
“Who?” You frown. 
“Hotch.”
You all but jump out of your skin. “What?!” You squeak.
Emily rolls her eyes now, embarrassed that you’re even trying to deny it. “Come on. It’s me. Don’t lie.”
Your mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words but your cheeks burn. It’s not entirely unexpected, Emily’s always been somewhat of an inner voice, a mirror that holds you accountable but you’d been quietly trying to work out your issues, the feelings you’d been having for Hotch, internally. 
Had you made it that obvious? Had you made yourself look stupid and naive, pining after a guy who was so much older and settled in life? 
“No of course I don’t, where is this coming from?” Your cheeks grow even hotter and you try to keep your voice even. 
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone can see it.”
“See what? There’s nothing to see!” 
You groan and bury your face in your hands in mortification. If everyone could see it, that meant that Hotch could too, he was on his way to being a profiler for God’s sake. He was probably just humouring you, sparing your feelings.
Oh God. 
“I mean the way you look at him?” Emily says.
“-Please stop, this is so embarrassing-” 
“-The way he looks at you?”
You freeze. “What?” You turn to look at her now and you find her smirking. 
“Come on, you’re seriously telling me you haven’t noticed? I noticed the day I met him, so you’re either blind or in denial, and I know you’re not blind. Even McCall knows it.” 
“What? No. He has a girlfriend and he wouldn’t-”
“Yeah that might be true, and I can’t speak to that. But it doesn’t change the way he looks at you. Even the way he held you that day? You don’t hold a friend like that.” 
Your chest feels fuzzy, warmth spreading to your bones, stomach flipping. 
“So?” Emily laughs next to you as she watches your expression. You try your best to stop the smile making its way onto your face. “I’ll take that as a yes,” She pauses. “He does too, y’know?” 
“What?”
“Have feelings for you.” She replies coyly. 
“Shut up.” You reply, rolling your eyes. 
Your smile reaches your ears now, cheeks aching from the strain. Still, you shake your head, and blow her off, instead turning your attention to the other side of the road. You chew on the inside of your lip, mulling over whether to let what you just heard go ignored or if you wanted to act on it. 
You turn back to confide in Emily but before you can, you see her squinting in the rear view mirror. 
“What the hell?” She mutters. You follow her gaze and see a car with beaming headlights, driving towards you, showing no signs of slowing down as it approaches. She sits up straight in her seat suddenly, as the car increases its speed and barrels towards you. 
The colour on her face drains as she fumbles with the gear stick and pedal, panic taking over as she attempts to move out of the way. You both flinch when the MPD car’s tail lights switch on, the engine revving and reversing. 
Both of your faces fall. “Emily...” You pant. 
“Oh God.”
It’s over in a couple of seconds. 
The headlights get closer and brighter, both cars barrelling towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourselves for impact, your hand clasping hers as both cars ram into you, the seatbelt searing the neck of your skin. The airbags pummel your body from the front and side and your insides feel like they're turning upside down. 
Your neck snaps forward with the impact, glass shattering and piercing the skin on your face and arms as the blood pools slowly from your forehead. A high-pitched whine penetrates your skull as you look over to a barely conscious Emily, and then to the side mirror, a dark silhouette approaching the car. Your breathing is rapid, chest rising and falling as you hyperventilate before you finally black out with the taste of metal in your mouth. 
———
Hotch throws his keys haphazardly on to the table that sits next to the front door, loosens his tie and shrugs his blazer off. He finally breathes a sigh of semi-relief, feeling exhausted. He doesn’t bother calling out to the empty space to let Haley know he’s home, instead decides to just make his way upstairs and get a shower before turning in for the night. 
His shirt is unbuttoned and his socks are in his hands when he turns his attention towards the laundry basket in the corner of their bedroom. He goes to throw them in the hamper when he frowns, some stray fabric catching his attention behind the basket. 
Haley strolls into the room then, rubbing lotion into her hands as Hotch moves the basket to get a better view of the fabric behind it. She double takes when her eyes fall to what he’s doing, spotting what he’s reaching for. The colour drains from her face. 
She’s too late. 
Hotch pinches the fabric between his index finger and thumb and inspects it in front of him, frowning, Haley swallows dryly, going lightheaded.
A pair of boxers.
He frowns. They’re not his, but he swears he’s seen some like them before. 
“Hey, where did these-”
He barely gets through the whole sentence before Haley’s face gives her away entirely. Her lips are pursed and she’s breathing hard, wringing her hands. 
His face falls and he blinks at her, stuck in denial. 
Surely not. She couldn’t have- 
She averts her gaze, looking instead at the carpet on the floor, cheeks hot when the boxers are thrown at her feet. She flinches. 
“Explain.” He demands. 
She opens her mouth but no words come, her head hangs in shame.
“How long?” He asks. “How. Long?!” His voice booms.
“It happened when I left for those two weeks.” Her voice barely registers above a whisper. 
Anger bubbles in his chest when he does the math, “You’ve been cheating on me for two months? Two months?! Was that him this morning?” His nostrils are flared and he knows he’s getting louder now, but he doesn’t care. 
She nods. 
“Use your words, was it him?” He hisses. 
She sobs, “Yes.” 
His mind runs rampant with fury and humiliation, he’d spent the last four months trying to make sure he put her first, had tried to balance his personal and work life and instead of meeting him in the middle, she had betrayed him in such a humiliating way. 
He paces the length of their bedroom now, head scrambling at the proverbial slap he’s just received . The cold familiarity of where he’d seen the fabric before suddenly dawns on him, creeping up his spine.
He stops dead in his tracks, turning to face her, asking the question he doesn’t want the answer to. “What’s his name?” He asks evenly. 
“Jordan - Fitzgerald.” 
He’d always thought the phrase, blood turning to ice, was just a saying but when Haley says those two words, he feels as though the floor has been pulled out from under him and his stomach sinks. He tries to piece together all of the moving parts, tries to connect the dots - he knows what this is, but his brain is still playing catch up. 
He’s in a daze when he answers a call from McCall, his voice even. “I’m on my way to you, there’s been an accident.”
“An accident?” That pulls him out of his daze, a cold harsh push back into reality. Haley’s head whips up when she hears the words, tears streaming down her face. “Where?” He asks. 
McCall pauses. “It’s her.” 
Hotch can already feel what’s coming next, dread settling into his bones, his stomach churning when he remembers you’d planned to have dinner with your father. A violent shiver runs down his spine and he swallows down the bile that threatens to spill out. 
“Status?” He whispers.
“Missing.”
———
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Tags:​ @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 ​ @izzyl13​ @bananabucky @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy​ @archiveofadragon​ @yoshigguk @acidicbloody @jeor​ @ivebeenthinkingboutu​ @bauslut @averyhotchner @vashanatasha​ @hotchwhore15 @pjmjams
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liaswritesrobots · 2 years
Note
Hello! :D I noticed matchups were open, I hope it’s alright if I ask for TFP and/or RiD2015 romantic matchups if you have the time/energy for them! (But if you don’t, that is completely okay and you can ignore this if you want to!!) 💕💕
I’m bi/ace (she/her) and I always describe myself as someone who has so much overflowing love in her heart!! I like to romanticize my freckles like little stars, I like wearing flowery skirts with bright pretty colors, I like putting all kinds of accessories or even glitter in my hair and I call them my “sprinkles” heheh!! I like wearing bright eye-catching jewelry and painting my nails different colors of the rainbow. I guess I just really love colors and flowers sdjhfhsjdgf
I’m very skittish/fearful but I try to be as brave and positive as I can, especially when the going gets tough! I like to think that in any TF universe, I’d be really flirty and empathetic because I’ve also gone through struggles a lot of the bots face (depression, anxiety, ptsd, abuse) and I’d want to be there for them and make them feel seen and loved ;u;
Activities!! I love to draw the sappiest stuff possible. I like to journal all of my dreams and decorate the pages with sparkly and scented stickers! I love anything creative tbh, drawing, writing, charm-crafting, singing, theatrical performances, stuff like that :D!! I also love baking, though I’m really not good at making them look very pretty, they at least taste like they’re supposed to 😂
Miscellaneous!! I literally never get any sleep, I’m practically nocturnal at this point LOL. I love cartoons, I think I own, like, 20 spongebob shirts. I give almost everyone I know some type of nickname, whether it’s silly or downright sappy. I like sitting in meadows, stargazing, looking at clouds, especially when I can’t sleep... I can’t think of much else at the top of my head, I hope that this was okay, I’m sorry if it got too long skdhsjhfjd I hope you’re having a wonderful day, and thank you for doing these!! 💖💕💖💕💖💕
I match you with...
Smokescreen and Sideswipe!
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They both love how bright and feminine your style is and they adore how loving you are. Anytime they find some kind of hair accessory or jewelry they think you'd like they get it for you. They like to tease you about how skittish you are and always tell you nor to worry because "your big strong bot will protect you!" They like how positive you try to be, especially Smokescreen. They love seeing your art and reading you writing, even when you leave them the cutest, sappiest notes and doodles that absolutely fluster them. They'd love to see your dream journal if you'd let them, and they love watching you do crafts. They also love to watch you bake even if they can't have any, they always comment that it smells really good. They also love to hear you sing ans will sing along with you! They get upset when you tell them you've delt with depression, anxiety, and ptsd, and they get furious at those who abused you, they promise you that they'll always try to cheer you up any way they can. They both love to watch cartoons with you and will try their beat to help you get some rest, usually by taking you on long drives at night.
Other possible matches: Bumblebee (TFP), Cliffjumper (TFP), Darksteel (TFP), Bumblebee (RID15), Grimlock (RID15), Glowstrike (RID15)
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Text
KuraNeon Short Fic
Okay, this is one of my longer tumblr short fics, it’s 1000+ words. 
Rated M because of lemon. Pairing: Kurapika/Neon
This is not the full length of the fic, the full version will be completed and posted on AO3 when I have the time. 
Before anyone starts complaining about their age, Kurapika and Neon are born in the same year. In the current arc, Kurapika is technically 19 years old. I have had people complain about Neon being underaged (people deadass think she’s 12 to 16 tf), but then they go ahead and sexualise Kurapika because “he is an adult because he’s 19”. You can check it here. 
Anyway, it’s fiction. Don’t take it seriously. I will just block anyone who tries to start a drama over drawings and fanfics.   
Warning: sexual content, hate-sex, angry sex, angst, mentions of daddy issues
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Here we go: 
Kurapika wanted to stop this... Whatever they were doing. Yet his reasoning flies out of the window whenever he sees Neon in a flattering night attire.
Here he was, shirtless, with the woman sitting on his lap. Her spaghetti-strapped blouse was pushed down, her breasts exposed to him.
"I told you not to tempt me," he said. He licked her nipple and bit it lightly. Neon let out a small groan.
Kurapika had attempted to tell her that this dirty affair they had was inappropriate and unbecoming of them. Yet, for the past week, Neon had been giving him subtle flirtations and wearing clothes that showed off her skin (as compared to the baggy ones she normally wears).
The last straw was her talking about his Scarlet Eyes... while fondling the chains on his hand.
No.
That had to stop. For one, she was teasing him. Secondly, she recently found out about his Kurta identity - she was pissing him off on purpose to get "punished".
That woman should know her place, objectifying his clan's eyes like that.
He placed small kisses on her neck, then back again to her breasts. She shivered - it felt good.
"Are you happy now? You spoiled girl," he muttered against her breath sternly. She yelped when he slapped her ass.
Huh? That's weird.
His hands got underneath her skirt. Fuck. This girl wasn't even wearing a pair of underwear. She really wanted to get hate-fucked. By him. Again.
His fingers found her sex, all dripping in her arousal for him.
"So good," she mewled. She quivered under his touch.
Of course, she was satisfied, but never happy. There was a difference.
He inserted another finger.
Neon had always been like him - an empty vessel. Perhaps, even lonelier than him.
"M-more!" she moaned, demanding to be satisfied.
"Always wanting to be pampered," he huffed. What a greedy girl.
A father who exploited her fortune-telling, for fame and power; in exchange, he'd buy her all the things she wanted. The endless indulgence of material goods that she filled her heart with, yet it can never be full.
Ever since the Lovely Ghostwriter was stolen from her, the one thing that made her useful to her father... It was gone.
"You can never be satisfied, Neon," he said.
"Yet, you still do this with me," she countered, playing with his blond hair. She gripped Kurapika's hair and looked at his now-reddened eyes. Those eyes were beautiful... that held so much wrath and danger.
She had loved them when they were on a set of casing...but to see them on a deranged man when he takes her... it was... strangely exciting.
Kurapika said nothing, only kissing her in response.
Shut the hell up - he thought. He didn't like when she played mind games while they were doing this.
The kiss tasted sweet - so much turmoil in him, that he wished that a kiss could wash it all away. Wash away all his painful memories.
She snaked her hand into his pants. He hissed at the contact. Fuck. He needed this.
She giggled at his reaction, seemingly pleased, but her eyes said otherwise. Her father no longer paid attention to her, and it was obvious that she was trying to replace this by letting her head bodyguard (who was the same age as her) fill her.
She inserted his penis into her, squealing. God, Kurapika disliked her high-pitched voice whenever she complained. Yet, the noise that she makes during sex was what rubbed his ego - pleading, squealing, mewling, moaning as he rammed into her.
He halted for a moment, to lay her back against the bed. Then slammed himself again. Neon screamed, then covered her mouth alarmingly. He was enraged, she could tell. She really got onto his nerves, with her callous comment.
That disgusting hobby of hers. Collecting dead body parts that reflected her lack of sympathy towards the dead. Again, to fill that empty husk of her beautiful body. To treat people like objects because people see her as a predictive tool. A mere object.
She was her father's cash cow, the mafioso's crystal ball, another name in Chrollo's book and now, Kurapika's personal sex doll.
He removed her mouth. He wanted to hear her. She bit her lip, attempting to be quiet as possible.
He knew this. He wrapped her arms around her lower back, giving a new angle to ride her further. She yelped, in both surprise and ecstasy.
"Slow... Down..." she pleaded, her fingernails digged his shoulders. He said nothing.
"Papa... Papa might - ah!- hear us," she reasoned to him.
But he did not listen.
"I think - ah fuck!- he already... He knows," he said.
It was an open secret around the Nostrade mansion. It was not far-fetched for the young pair, who were equally lonely, to get caught into some odd agreement. She did expect her father to have some sort of reaction, though?
Neon's eyes watered slightly. Whether it was due to her being upset with her father's nonchalance, or Kurapika's roughness - Kurapika was unsure.
Kurapika did help Light recover from their financial slump by redirecting their mafioso business into something else. Perhaps it was some sort of sick reward Kurapika has earned when he chose to help them.
He brushed away the mascara-stained tears from her face. "Stop crying," he commanded, and gave a deep thrust that caused her to yell.
He did know she was going through a tough issue. But it can never be compared to him, his loss. The eyes of his clan gouged out just for people like her to enjoy them as displays. He should be the one crying, but there were no more tears left for him to shed.
He then remembered her hobby - why he was here in the first place. He began to incorporate his resentful energy into the form of pulsating desire, pounding into her mercilessly.
"Give it to me..." she begged, holding him tightly while her toes curled.
Her whole body started to shake.
So close...
Just a little more...
Then he stopped.
Neon immediately glared at him. It was one of his punishments again. To give her all the pleasures into a peak then abruptly crashing it into such a non-climatic disaster.
He laid on her side, brushing her messy hair off her face. They were both sticky, perspiring from their intimacy.
"Don't cry," he comforted and kissed her forehead.
Or I will give you something real to cry about, flesh collector.
She nodded. "Good girl," he said. He stood up.
He gripped her thighs, dragging her until her lower body was out of the bed. "Turn around," he commanded, and she obeyed him.
"Wait..." she protested, looking back slightly, "I want to see your eyes while you-" He gripped her hair. The audacity of this girl to still treat his eyes like a commodity... but in her eyes, he is the same. Another man in her life that sees her as an instrument.
"No. Not tonight, Neon. Look in front," he instructed.
If I catch you looking back, you're going to get it - he thought while he inserted his dick inside her again.
"I- ah!" she heaved, "I - hah - hate you..."
She managed to blurt out. He frowned. He didn't like that, be it she truly meant it or it was out of not getting what she wanted.
Because he couldn't resent her. He disliked her attitude, sheltered personality, her hobby... and worst of all, how she makes him desire her.
But it was never hatred. That was a feeling meant for the Phantom Troupe. She wasn't special enough for that.
He found her clitoris and rubbed it, all swollen and wet from arousal.
He noticed how she opened her legs slightly further to give him better access. Such hatred, huh.
"Yet... You're here," he replied. All he got was a repetition of her breathless curses and whimpers.
“Just… mmph! Turn me around…” she mumbled in the midst of the coitus. 
“No-”
“P-please?”
No response. He only did her harder. 
“I’ll… do anything,” she said. She looked back, rebelling against his rule. She kissed him before he could scold her. Neon stared at the glowing eyes, completely bewitched by them. 
“Anything?” he questioned, and he withdrew himself out of her. 
“Yes, daddy, anything-” 
She pouted for an added-effect. She knew that was one of his weaknesses. Kurapika sighed. 
“Okay-”
It was going to be a long night: he wasn’t done with her yet.  
[A/N: I did not proofread this, so pardon the grammatical errors]
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in-tua-deep · 4 years
Text
tua s1 rewatch with my roommate
episode one (I forgot for the first episode oops):
I have been treated to pictures of a lovely cosplay of Klaus who won a cosplay contest my roommate was in !!
Klaus putting his arm in front of Five during the funeral fight is good shit
“I have heard like nothing about Vanya” “yeah that’s pretty much how she’s treated in show as well”
“I can see why he’s the fandom favorite” - about Klaus
“Istanbul is in the firST EPISODE?”
I forGOT about the “rapists can climb” line when he breaks into Vanya’s apartment omg but also like,, his dumb arm wound
Episode two:
HERR CARLSON
Aww baby fives first time travel his little smile. Baby. Baby boy. And the dawning horror in the apocalypse baby nO
Five: you got anything stronger
Also five: takes one sip and then fills up more, takes another sip, and then immediately puts it down ?????
The motel dude for hazel and cha cha just looks at them like “yeah these are serial killers” and just rolls with it
Also actually why tf doesn’t the commission spring for better stuff?? Why would they cut costs?? They time travel? They could game the stock market so hard ?????? Give the assassins their own rooms omg
Also why didn’t five like. Crush his tracker. Why did he just leave it whole and intact outside of the Griddys.
Forgot how much I love Agnes
(Oh man it is storming bad here it just BOOMED)
Also idk if Diego actually deserved that taser hmmmmm but also like,, communication lads five was literally right there killing people and Diego is like “hmm something is up here” like. Yeah Diego ur big brother “I can get my sibling in trouble for something” senses are tingling
Wow I really did repress all these Allison and Luther scenes huh. Also it’s still super cute that Allison read Claire moon books
Allison: dads heart gave out, which wasn’t how I was expecting to find out dad had a heart but it tracks
“SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE BEN... said with love 😘”
Did five actually sleep at Vanyas?? The sofa looks undisturbed but he had to wait for work hours to interrogate the meritech people,, five,, please sleep. The whole “IF YOU CALL ME YOUNG MAN ONE MORE TIME” interaction makes more sense with five on. Zero sleep.
I didn’t remember that Patch straight up knows about the umbrella academy oops. Like she clocks Diego as overcompensating for his childhood. Queen
Is that an umbrella adademy Diego cross stitch on Diego’s wall?? Did he buy that? Make it?? Did grace make it?
Vanya, walking into the academy: five??? five? pspspspspsps
Also like. Who was Vanyas therapist??? Clearly they did not help her
Aww the tow truck driver :(
I know the show wants me to dislike Patrick I KNOW,, and I think her fathers funeral is extenuating circumstance?? But still Patrick is valid for not giving an inch regarding his ex who mind controlled his child. Vanya didn’t really deserve Allison snapping at her but like. She had some good points. Allison arguably would have had to deal with vanyas book more than anyone else
Five smiling proudly at Klaus’s drama at meritech bless but also KLAUS DONT BREAK GLASS ON YOURSELF
Me, spotting Leonard: BASTARD
Love how everyone greets Diego in the gym and don’t question all his knives or anything like “yeah that’s Diego he lives here and loves knives :)”
Why could Leonard have not been like. A normal ass guy. Vanya needs friends who sympathize with her holy shit get this person some socialization
Pogo really did have to lead these kids by hand to the recording rooms because literally no one was super invested in reginalds ~murder mystery~
ahafahJAGSJWGAI MY ROOMMATE JUST SAID POGO IS THE BEST CHARACTER SO FAR,,,, I will probably never include pogo in my fics because I do Not Care About Him lmaoooo
Aww five does to see Dolores and being like “it’s been a rough couple of days :(“,,,,, baby,,,, but also tag yourself I’m hazel going “elastic wrist splint yesssssss”
Five I am begging you PLEASE get some sleep
OH FIVE SHAKING DIEGO IN THE APOCALYPSE TO TRY AND WAKE HIM UP OHHHHH OH :(
Episode 3:
my roommate is super faceblind which is an issue bc she identifies people mainly by hairstyle so seeing the s2 stuff on tumblr is tripping her over bc she keeps seeing diego and going ??? who is that again? bc she’s seen his longer hair
okay there is no way that the eggs that grace put in that pan are the ones that ended up on the smiley face breakfast plate,,, but also grace that whole scene was a mood honestly i would be like “okay maybe mom killed dad BUT he deserved it sooooo”
“what the FUCK” - my roommate about cha-cha’s shitty wound care where she holds a curling iron against her arm
i didn’t remember that five got shOT AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE did i just erase that from my memory?? i mean yeah it’s a graze but he stitches it up and then slaps a bandaid on it so he has a wound that needed stitches on his shoulder for the entire show ??????? is he okay???? that would make moving your arm,,, painful,,,,,
a bandaid just slapped over it i’m actively yelling
“Sometimes when I see a million gifs of a show before I watch I get really surprised when they talk but he is exactly what I expected” - my roommate, about five
“I noticed they’ve only really showed diego in really badly lit scenes so far” - my roommate defending her lack of ability to recognize diego
i’m still laughing about pogo literally having to point out the murder tapes and now allison and luther are investigating and just. allison is lowkey defending grace and i’m laughing
“why is he saying woodwork is embarrassing that’s like one of the most middle of the wood hobbies to have. you’re respectable to grandpas who used to carve wooden ducks AND twenty-year-olds who can’t make anything to save their lives” - my roommate on leonard peabody
“i think he’s already crossing some lines he’s met this lady ONCE” - roommate on leonard/vanya
five having flashbacks in the car :(
did allison and luther draw straws for who went to fetch which sibling?? allison was like “dibs on vanya” and luther was just like “aww :(”
five luther and klaus in the van - BOYS NIGHT BOYS NIGHT let’s go pick up diego
“the coat he’s wearing does have a nice swish to it” - roommate about klaus’s coat
luther being like “you’re just as messed up as the rest of us and we’re all you have” like luther,,, baby,,,,, you literally ARE all he has,,,,,, his family is the only thing he’s really cared about since he was thirteen and maybe before then :(
“I can’t tell if those are supposed to be cake or yeast donuts... i think extruded donuts are cake donuts but she said she lets them rise so maybe they’re yeast?” - my roommate focusing on all the things that i do not
sometimes i forget that hazel and cha-cha pretended to be private detectives trying to find a lost child in a potentially dangerous situation,,, five would be disgusted
“she shouldn’t get a vote” “i was gonna say i agree with you” “she should get a vote!!” this is peak sibling energy honestly i think i’ve had that exact interaction with my siblings voting for a movie or something
“hashtag android rights” 
“I want to be the tailor who gets a call one day that says ‘i want you to make clothes for a chimpanzee”
is it telling that only luther in the flashback didn’t really talk to grace at all,, i mean five didn’t either but i think he was gone by that point in the flashback ???? 
wait diego tells grace that she worked for him for thirty years,,, the kids are 29 and later it’s implied she was built bc vanya kept killing nannies when they were like four but maybe s2 clarifies that some more?? or diego just is rounding up
“that’s an interesting fabric to her skirt” - my roommate about grace’s outfit
forgot that hazel and cha cha broke the door to the manor busting in,, do they ever fix that?? we’re only at episode three do they spend the rest of the season with their door open to anyone on the streets
okay that bathtub is WAY too small to allow for klaus to be moving his elbows about like that underwater smh
“how is HE useful on mission??” my roommate about klaus
where is the SECURITY SYSTEM??? luther LITERALLY said that reggie was more paranoid and yet some assassin can just bust down the door and have unrestricted access????? he built a whole ROBOT but no security system????????
“maybe it was like,, practice for the kids? someone breaks in and they take care of it? wait no that doesn’t explain the thirteen years they’ve been gone?”
“why WAS he on the moon?” - about luther
“I want to see what she’s embroidering!!” about grace during the gunfight in the living room she’s absolutely ignoring diego getting shot at
what is a rope-a-dope,,,, diego yells “EVER HEARD OF A ROPE-A-DOPE???” at luther but like. no i haven’t. what does that MEAN diego
aww i forgot they played sinnerman, love that song
“what are you doing dude, rumor has it you’re not shooting at me that’s all you need to do” i mean. the roommate is not wrong. allison could just end the fight with a yell. i understand she’s pissed off and has rumor trauma but like cha cha is actively trying to murder them
how is luther not winning he literally has super strength. does hazel have super strength? just punch the man and knock him out jesus y’all suck at this smh
why is there such intense music we all been knew about luther’s strength - oH HIS BODY
forgot about that
is it allison’s fault that klaus got kidnapped because she didn’t literally just rumor them to give up?? like she literally has that power. she could have been like “i heard a rumor you left and forgot about us” it didn’t even need to be violent?? i understand she has rumor trauma but this i feel is allowable circumstances
diego showing his worry about vanya by getting angry which honestly i think all the siblings do that rip none of these idiots have even heard of healthy communication in their LIVES
you know,, i don’t think vanya can drive. she takes the bus. she took a taxi to leonard’s house. we see her walking a lot. does she know how to drive?? i imagine that the umbrella academy were taught bc of mission related stuff but,,, vanya wasn’t?? that’s just depressing tbh
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Entire arc of one of my dumbass characters
Hey, so I finished planning out the complete story arc for one of my characters, Vlad. I wanted to share it here so people can tell me what they think. Keep in mind, I’m going to be summarizing stuff as briefly as possible. So while it’ll be long, I’ll still be skirting over some things so that we’re not here for a million years (so in other words, with certain things, you’ll just have to nod and go along with it). If anyone has any questions afterwards, I can make a second post clearing stuff up.
So enough with the drabble
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Vlad Dracula the 628th aka Lucian Dracula
Before we begin, there’s 2 things we need for context. One is the Old Customs. These are old rules set by the first Vlad Dracula. The whole “descents of Dracula” thing, where a new Vlad is named every other generation and is destined to do something big for vampire kind, is included in said Customs. The rest is basically a set of toxic rules that only traditional vampire families (like the Draculas) follow. Two, the previous Vlad, Grandpa Drac , ended an ongoing war between vampires and humans a few centuries ago. Vampires are still not high in public opinion, but at least they’re no longer hunted for sport
Before we begin, there’s 2 things we need for context. One is the Old Customs. These are old rules set by the first Vlad Dracula. The whole “descents of Dracula” thing, where a new Vlad is named every other generation and is destined to do something big for vampire kind, is included in said Customs. The rest is basically a set of toxic rules that only traditional vampire families (like the Draculas) follow. Two, the previous Vlad, Grandpa Drac , ended an ongoing war between vampires and humans a few centuries ago. Vampires are still not high in public opinion, but at least they’re no longer hunted for sport
Anyways, let’s briefly cover the backstory for emo boi, who wasn’t always called Vlad. At age 5, he was picked out of all his cousins to be the next Vlad. Problem was that Vlad and his parents were the few Draculas who didn’t believe in the customs, so of course controversy. Vlad’s aunts and uncles would act abusive to him and his parents, and his cousins would be rewarded for beating him up. Most notably he became a favourite target of Wolfgang, the largest and strongest of the cousins.
When he was 14, Vlad’s parents decided fuck this noise, and they and Vlad moved away and cut ties with the family. Vlad however had developed terrible anxiety problems, and never developed proper social skills. He started a relationship with Mina around this time, but this only helped a bit. While Mina cares about Vlad and goes out of her way to help, she’s simply not knowledgeable about how to help him properly, and often (unintentionally) ends up being an enabler
Vlad’s antisocial behaviour only worsened as he got older, and eventually he took to confining himself in his room as what happened throughout his childhood made it impossible for him to enjoy much. He developed a strained relationship with his parents, and one day he ended up storming out of the house after an argument. Unfortunately, Vlad ended up being kidnapped by vampire hunters and shipped off to be killed in an old vampire hunting ground. He’d find out later that his parents were killed not long after his departure during a struggle with hunters
He was shipped up to a town in Belgium, where he escaped confinement and hid out in some woods. This is where he met Phoenix and Chronos after they were assigned to get him to leave. With nowhere to go, and hunters still hinted at being in the area, Vlad ends up tagging along and eventually joining the group.
At first, Vlad acts like a massive asshole to everyone, especially Phoenix, who’s outgoing and confident nature reminds him a bit of Wolfgang. The fact that Vlad clearly isn’t good at fighting doesn’t help as he constantly lets his insecurities get the better of him. He tries to hide the fact that he has anxiety issues, only to have one in the middle of a job, nearly getting himself killed.
Eventually, he decides to try running away, only to be intercepted by Phoenix. Phoenix calls Vlad out for being an asshole, for hiding things from people, and for taking his issues out on everyone else. The two have an emotional argument where they both open up about each other’s backstories and whatnot. After they’ve settled down, Phoenix finally gets through to Vlad that his life’s not going to get better the way he’s going on now. Determined to help, she offers to be his friend. And thus begins the saga of these two being chaotic dumbasses together
Of course, while Vlad agrees to return and try to better himself, it’s a slow process. He’s hesitant to seek help from anyone but Phoenix, and being around characters like Chronos and Athan who criticize him causes his insecurities to resurface. Nonetheless, he sticks to it and learns how to fight from both Phoenix and Athan. Athan also teaches him how to play to his strengths during a job.
In terms of confidence, Phoenix definitely starts to rub off on Vlad,, and more of his personality starts to come out. They still bicker but they also joke around and have angsting sessions where they just scream about shit.
Vlad’s development into being more confident, however, starts regressing when the family gets involved. During a period where the mercenary group is split up, Vlad visits Mina and is invited back to the Dracula household. It seems that he needs to sort things out regarding his parents’ wills.
Taking Mina and Trix with him, Vlad gets to relieve a bunch of uncomfortable childhood memories, and of course his family aren’t happy to see him (Wolfgang being quick to go back to antagonizing him). Some members of the family want to ignore the wills and claim things like Vlad’s house as their own. In order to have his parents’ wishes respected, Vlad ends up having to physically fight Wolfgang.
And Vlad wins... after he melts Wolfgang’s face off in the sun, and he himself looses a goddamn arm in the process
After Vlad wins, his aunts, uncles, and cousins all seem to hide away, not wanting to confront him. Grandpa Drac invites Vlad to join him for a drink, and there he explains why he chose Vlad to be, well, Vlad. Turns out Grandpa is evil as shit and actually tortured a bunch of people in order to end the war. And he also wants Vlad to overturn the old customs, so that vampires can start making progress to overcome other species (the rules kinda prevent you from slaughtering millions basically).
So, Vlad’s not exactly about that, so he tries to nope out of this, except uh oh, grandpa spiked his drink with magical vampire essence blood or whatever. Now Vlad has blood magic, which he later finds out was used throughout history to do some... pretty fucked up shit. Vlad of course isn’t immediately aware of this, and he’s still not over the fact he melted Wolfgang’s face off or that grandpa is crazy.
After weird meeting with gramps, Vlad gets approached by one of his cousins, Ludwig, who’s also Wolfgang’s younger brother. Ludwig invites Vlad for a night out a cafe, and there Vlad finds out that hey, abusive shit didn’t stop after he left. Basically, a lot of the cousins would aid in antagonizing Vlad bc that meant they were safe. Ludwig had always been picked on to some extent by his older bro, but after Vlad left, he became a favourite target. Plus the majority of the family have alcohol issues and shit, and tldr this entire family is fucked and somebody should trash all this and go back to the drawing board
Hey, here’s one bonus. It’s during his convo with Ludwig that Vlad actually reveals his real name to the audience, Lucian. And it’s only the first instance of him referring to himself as such.
On the way back, Ludwig and Vlad get caught up in chaos caused by Trix. During the struggle, Vlad accidentally unleashes blood magic, and passes tf out. After waking up, demanding answers from gramps, and getting the disturbing context behind the blood magic, Vlad immediately leaves and reunited with Phoenix and everyone else. However, the whole blood magic thing is causing some issues. Vlad has to drink more blood now, and he really doesn’t like using it knowing what it was previously used for. He also starts resenting sharing a name with someone who was idolized for all the wrong reasons.
He starts transitioning back into an asshole, and eventually he reaches out to fellow vampires Mina and Athan for help. Vlad’s doing pretty bad emotionally during all this, and is generally going through a lot. He starts making plans with Mina and Athan to somehow end this entire messed up situation, meanwhile he’s rapidly regressing in character development. He gets a couple kicks up the ass and starts to get better tho. The biggest wake up call is when his BFF Phoenix gets fucking possessed by an alien god for a couple hours, then runs away.
So, you know, a typical Friday night
At this point, Vlad, sorry , Lucian, kinda snaps. He rejects the name Vlad once and for all, and strictly goes by Lucian. He sets out to find Phoenix by himself, but is eventually joined by Athan and Mina, and later other characters. During the road trip to get to wherever tf Phoenix is, it’s the return of family drama. However, Lucian doesn’t seem to be quite bothered by it. He’s more set on getting his friend back, and he’s kinda over having this bullshit haunt him his entire life, and refuses to give it any power over him. Still, he, Athan, and Mina agree that it’s best to deal with this now so they don’t have to deal with it again later.
Gramps is still trying to go through with his plans, and Wolfgang wants some revenge on Lucian. But Lucian ain’t having none of this, calls the entire family out on the dumbassery , and, for extra effect, throws the book of old customs into the goddamn fire. He promptly curb stomps Wolfgang and just walks out to the amazement of everyone else. This apparently starts a little revolution where, one by one, the rest of his cousins (and some of his aunts and uncles) start leaving and starting their own lives.
Lucian’s character growth is more or less complete from here on. He still has his issues with insecurities and anxiety, but has started to give them less power over him and can now focus on the present. Which he kinda needs to do now bc oh no, BFF doing weird shit and everyone’s going crazy. He does start to use blood magic, but only in emergencies. He also has gets a chance to repay Phoenix for helping him by helping her. So... there’s that.
Oh yeah, he also decides that anyone who judges him can go fuck themselves and goes full goth. Thank you, good night!
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shadow--writer · 3 years
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I Got a Feelin' I Might Have Lit the Very Fuse
hmmm it’s a writing weekend. And the start of what’s going to be an awful week haha. So expect more of me peddling my brainworms (halp I have fallen back in love with these two to the point where friends have started sending me prompts for them)
title (it’s slowed bc WHY TF NOT)
Maeve x Lucas. Second meetings might go better than firsts 3k
TW: none!
@dela-png
A week had passed, and it was slow. Her regulars, of course, had been popping in and out keeping things from being boring. As much as she appreciated that...she was going to kill them. 
How on Earth someone could anger a squirrel that badly she would never know. 
But today was calm. Calm and yes sure the ‘q’ word. 
She refused to even think of the ‘q’ word. Knowing her luck the moment she thought it, seven people would be flooding into her clinic. 
With food poisoning.  
She let out a low groan. Slow days were nice and all, but usually she had company. It was eerily silent when she was alone. 
And she was bored. 
Maeve pushed herself off the counter. She could stand to reorganize her herbs and medicine cabinet. She needed to relabel some of the bottles and jars anyways, with the amount she pulled them off the shelves she smudged her script.
She started moving the jars off the shelves, muttering to herself as she looked at the labels and did her best to decipher the smeared ink.
She had only pulled the herbs off the shelves and onto the counter when the bell above her door rang sweetly into the silence. She stopped her humming, pushing the fraying edges of her handkerchief away from her eyes. 
Oh yeah sure so now someone came in. 
Forcing a smile and a fake cheery tone to her voice, she turned around. “I’ll be with you in a moment!” she called. She couldn’t see the door over the stack of herb jars on her counter. Some were pretty empty, she’d need to stop at the market again or go foraging. 
Ugh foraging. 
It wasn’t that she disliked foraging. But it was time consuming. 
And she usually got lost.
But she didn’t like to talk about that part. 
“Thumbelina!”
She froze. She knew that nickname. She knew that voice. 
The smile climbing onto her face became real. 
“Giant!” she said, moving out from behind the counter. He looked better today. Not as bloody. In his arms he cradled the little boy from the dock. “Oh! You must be Will!” she said, dusting off her skirt. 
The boy looked much better than he had. Colour had returned to his face, and he didn’t seem to be in as much pain. That was good. She knew the bite must ache but it was good seeing him up and about.  
She stepped forward, offering her hand to shake. He shook it once, swinging their arms up violently before slamming them back down. 
Whoa there.
She laughed in her surprise. “Firm handshake you’ve got there!” she said, drawing her hand back to her side. “So what brings you to my corner of the world? Need more pain meds? The stitches okay?”
Lucas blinked at the questions, she directed her attention to the boy in his arms (who looked so tiny compared to Giant, she noted with a giggle). 
Will smiled, he was missing one of his front teeth. “Nope! Lucas brought me over to say hello! And bring you somethin!” Will ducked his head closer to her, mock whispering. Or whispering at the volume a seven year old thought was a whisper.
Aka not at all. 
“He also said he wanted to see ya again!”
Her eyes flicked back up to the man in question. His cheeks had been flooded with pink. The blush climbed all the way up to his ears. This was why she never told seven year olds anything. They had no filter, it was cute, but embarrassing. 
Though the way Lucas blushed was adorable.
She pressed her fingers to her lips as she chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you came by. It’s nice to see you again,” she said. “Would you care for something to drink? I have tea in the back.”
Lucas’ head snapped up. “We don’t want to bother you! To- W-Will here just brought a gift over to thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“You...saved his life.”
Oh yeah right she did do that. “And you’re just the messenger?” 
Will tugged on Lucas’ sleeve, the man gently setting the boy down on the ground. He was walking, that was great!
“The others n I made you somethin! Sylvie mentioned yer cloth head thing.”
She touched the ratty thing on her head. It was falling apart at the seams but she didn’t have time to make another.
Will held a deep green fabric up to her. She blinked, reaching down to grab it. It was made from a soft cotton, and it smelled nice. Like cinnamon and other spices. “So we made you a new one!”
She pulled the one in her hair out, shaking out her bangs. They were a gnarled mess, but soft against her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling the new handkerchief into her curls. She tied it under her ponytail, bringing her hand down as she smiled down at the little boy. “It’s beautiful.”
“Lucas also wanted ta help!” the boy chattered on. He reached over to Lucas, tugging on his hand. Lucas shuffled forward, looking a little embarrassed. “We couldn’t afford any fancy fabric so Lucas gave us one of his old shirts!” The boy beamed up at her, his hand so tiny in Lucas’. “Sylvie did the little flowers!”
Oh! She didn’t even notice the messy embroidery. She ran a hand against them, it was bumpy beneath her fingers. 
She loved it. 
She squatted down, it made it easier to be at eye level with him. “Well tell her I said thank you and that her flowers are beautiful.”
“She said they were bellflowers. Those are Lucas’ favourite flowers! They’re the only ones she knows how ta make though...”
She looked back up at Lucas. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there in that moment. She giggled. “Bellflowers are beautiful, Lucas has good taste.”
“Do ya like it?” He stood on his toes, eyes all lit up. 
She smiled, closing her eyes as she tilted her head. “Oh I love it! I’ve been needing something new to pull my hair back for a while now. It was very kind of you to make something for me.”
“I uh, also brought you lunch,” Giant said, bringing her attention back up. Squatting down to be at eye level with the seven year old boy was a smart idea. 
Until she realized how much more he would tower over her. 
Goodness gracious.  
She froze, teetering on her toes. “What?”
He held up a little cloth bundle tied with a string. A nervous smile worked its way across his lips. “It’s some extra stew I made to bring with me. A...thank you from me.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine eating out.”
“But a home cooked meal is much better than eating out, wouldn’t you think?”
She pressed her palms to her knees as she got to her feet. “Well...yes, but I don’t have time to make a home cooked meal. Let alone a good one. I am an awful cook,” she joked. 
“Oh I’m sure you aren’t that bad.”
She cringed. He was so very wrong. “...oh no I am that bad. ‘Permanent ban from the kitchen back home’ bad. And that’s when I even eat something- oh.”
He was glaring at her. 
She did not like him glaring at her. 
“What?” she asked, drawing out the syllables.
“‘Even eat something’? Thumbelina you’ve got to eat. You’re tiny enough already.”
“Well I don’t have time! Dumba- dumb people don’t wait.” She caught herself. No swearing in front of the kid. 
“You should still find time to eat something. Were you even planning to get something to eat today?”
“Well y-yes!”
He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. 
“Okay, no, but I usually get something to snack on during slow days. What’s got your goat in a twist anyways? It’s not like we know one another well.”
Her words struck a chord. He looked away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. “I...I cook,” he admitted. “So I’ve started paying attention to people’s eating habits. Yours are atrocious by the way.”
“Atrocious? You only know my lunch eating habits!” She sulked, placing a hand to her chest. “You wound me.”
“It’s true. Worse than the kids at the dock. At least they come to bother me when they’re hungry. Like stray cats.”
“Hey! We aren’t stray kitties!” Will whined. 
Lucas affectionately rubbed his knuckles into the crown of Will’s head. He swatted at the taller man to no avail. “Well to me you sure look like cats.”
“Yer just blind then!” Will huffed, trying to smooth down his hair. 
Giant turned back to her, handing her the cloth bundle. She took it, her lips twisting. “I brought you lunch out of the goodness of my heart, so I expect you to eat it at a reasonable time.” His tone was teasing but she knew his words had weight. 
“How will you know if I don’t?” she asked, her voice taking a sing-song tone.
He was still not as impressed. Ugh he was no fun. “I’ll come back to check on it.”
“...you wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“You have work!”
“I can take breaks. I work hard, the least they could give me.”
She sighed, cradling the meal he made her to her chest. “Fine! I give, I give! I’ll eat your lunch.”
He smiled. “Good.” His eyes kept moving to her hair. She touched the handkerchief, his cheeks darkened a little. 
Wait...if this was made out of his shirt…
She felt her cheeks warm. 
Oh. 
Oh.
The spices she was smelling was him.
They locked eyes, before they both turned away. She swore she was blushing down to her toes. And she never really blushed. 
Damn you Giant. 
He coughed, looking back at Will who was watching them very amused. “We’d better go little man,” Lucas said.
“Awww but I wanna stay a little longer!” He had wandered off to look at her herbs before exploring the clinic’s many tables. Currently he was looking at the deep grooves on the table. 
Lucas caught her eye again. His eyes were still a vibrant blue. Reminded her of the water when it reflected the sky. “We don’t want to bother her anymore than we have,” he said with a low chuckle. “She’s very busy.”
“Not today I’m not!” she blurted out. She hated to admit it, but she enjoyed his company. Teasing or not it was nice to be able to talk to someone. 
Lucas paused, she bit her lower lip as she smiled nervously. “If you’d like, you can stay for tea. No one’s come in today, and so it’s been very...eerie. I’d appreciate the company.”
Lucas’ brows crinkled. She wanted to smooth out the lines. “Is...that okay?”
“Of course! I’m offering.”
Will grinned, grabbing her hand. “Well if she says we can stay it’s only polite! That’s what ya taught us, right Lucas?”
Lucas sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you guys listen to me and then you pull this crap.”
She chuckled. “As the little eel survivor says, it’s only polite.”
“Fine. We can stay for tea.”
She smiled broadly, leading them to her small backroom. There she kept a few extra aprons, gloves and her more powerful medicines (magic pills and all that) locked up tight. 
She grabbed her kettle, settling on the fruity green tea she’d found in the market a while back but hadn’t had the chance to try. She hummed as she put it over her small stove. 
Will was chatting with Lucas about the magic items she had strewn about. Lucas looked at her, pleading for help. 
She laughed, answering the plea. “You like my charms?” she asked. “I had help making them.”
“You can do magic?” Will asked, eyes lighting up. 
She was a little taken aback, but to a little kid, of course magic was...well, magic. She smiled. “Oh yes! I can do all sorts of things. Takes a bit out of me, but I can do some illusions, I know some healing. Herbal magic is fun. And palm reading was just something my sisters and one of my cousins picked up on.”
“Palm reading?” Giant asked as the kettle started to sing. 
She moved, putting some of the tea leaves in her infuser, letting it seep in the hot water for a bit. 
“Yes, palm reading. It’s quite easy actually.” She brought the tea over to the table. She could bring glasses and the ice when the tea was steeped enough. “I can do a reading if you’d like,” she offered. 
Will bounced up and down. “Can I help? Can I? Can I?”
Giant laughed. “Calm down little man, let’s let the fairy doctor do her thing first.”
She winked at Will. “I can teach you after I do his reading.”
Will grinned, sitting back. He wiggled in his seat. He was very energetic. It was refreshing. 
Lucas held out his right hand, she reached forward, their fingertips brushing. “Your hands are cold,” he said, his hand jerking back a little. 
She held firm as she laughed. “I’m aware.”
His palms were calloused. Rough under her touch. Scarred from hard labor. She traced the lines and creases on his hand. She felt his pulse jump under her fingertips as she brushed his wrist.  
“Fire hands,” she said, meeting his eyes. 
“Fire hands? What does that mean?”
“The type of hands you have. Our hands represent one of the four elements, just like astrology. Earth, air, fire, water. You can tell a lot about a person based on their hands.” 
She looked back down at his palm. She traced the length of his palm, and then her fingers danced over his own. “Fire hands show people to be passionate, confident, and industrious. Driven by desires and on a bad day you may lack tactfulness and empathy.”
“And what about your hands?” His voice was soft. 
She looked at her hand, her fingers freezing over his own. “Mine are...water hands. In tune with my emotions, intuition, and psychic ability. Fueled by compassion and imagination, often creative. Also extremely sensitive and my feelings are easily hurt, causing undesirable interpersonal stress.” 
He chuckled. 
She brushed the edge of his hand by his pinky. “Marriage line.” Her fingers moved down to the long line below the marriage line, it curved up between his middle and index finger. “Love line.” Below that was a small curve starting at the flesh of his thumb meeting his palm. “Wisdom.” Two more lines, starting at the bottom of his palm. One curved to match the wisdom line, the other straight up to the middle of his middle and ring finger. “Career and life lines.” Small sun line. 
She searched his palm for his health line. “What are you-” he cut himself off as she traced the broken up health line.
“Health.”
He paused at her touch, she could feel his heart beat race under her touch. “Well Thumbelina? What does my palm say?” 
She breathed in, letting the air out with a sigh. “Love and marriage,” she started, tracing his love line again. His hand jerked under hers. “Line is long and curved. A happy long lasting love. But it’s all in your hands. Communication is key with this love.” 
His eyes widened. “How can you tell?”
She winked. “I just can.” She brushed her thumb along his career line. “Career and business. You’re ambitious and have strong self-confidence. If you have a dream in your heart and you’ll work hard to see it come true.”
She bent closer to his hand. “Health. You’re easily tired. You exercise a lot but don’t take the breaks you need. Short breaks will keep you refreshed and healthy. Don’t forget to exercise even if it’s hard. Don’t forget to rest and take care of your body.”
He chuckled. “I think my work is all the exercise I need.”
“But you still work out?”
“...sometimes.”
“And do you rest?”
“...”
“Thought so.”
She smiled, looking at the last lines on his palm. “Your personality and mental state. Connected to life and health. You know your mind well, you adapt easily. With your adaptability people look to you to lead them. Though reading other people and their feelings is a challenge for you.”
She looked up at him to see his face. 
But his face was close to hers. 
And he looked back at her at the same time.
So their foreheads slammed together. 
Hissing a yelp, she fell back, palm pressed to her forehead. He did the same, Will laughing at them both so hard he fell over. 
“Well now we have matching bruises,” she said with a groan, making sure they didn’t break skin. No blood. Just a bruise. Goddess of the unholy stars did that hurt. 
“My bad,” he wheezed, pressing a finger to the reddening skin. “You’ve got quite a noggin.”
She got to her feet, smiling a little. “Could say the same about yours.”
He watched her move back. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking about as she turned away from him. His forehead where they bonked heads was starting to turn red.
She got to her feet to go get ice and cups. She set three glasses down, pouring the tea over the ice. The ice cracked under the heat. She slid the glasses to the boy. Giant was still looking over his palm. Her fingers tingled from the small use of magic. 
She handed his cup to him. He grabbed the cup from her hand, their fingertips brushing again. 
There was a small spark of magic at the touch, making her jump. 
He didn’t seem to feel it. Or was able to hide the fact he could. She wondered if he had magic, it was like a surge of something strong coming from deep within her. It was unfamiliar. 
It had to be his. 
Waving her thoughts off and ignoring the weird flutter in her stomach, she turned to Will, who was gulping down the tea like a dog to water. 
She chuckled, holding out her hand. Her eyes were alight with the challenge and excitement she felt when she got to teach something. Her voice was low in pitch, but her tone was filled with lithe amusement. “So, wanna learn how to read palms?”
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Disney Does NOT Know how to Feminist, for the Most Part.
I like Moana and Judy Hopps, they’re pretty good relatively-new female Disney characters, but the rest, I don’t like. It’s all, “I’m a woman, I have to save you scum-bag men because you can’t do A N Y T H I N G, hear me roar, society is trash, watch me twirl a stick.” And believe me that trope is getting kinda old kinda quickly.
People think Disney Princesses are nothing more than Damsels in Distress, and I don’t know where tf that rumour came from but I don’t like it.
Snow White gets some of the worst rap for it, and that’s not fair. I think she’s got more courage than Bo Peep and Mulan (2020, the 1998 version is an amazing role model for kids in my opinion, the 2020 version is a bitch) put together.
Snow White had to be a slave to the Evil Queen, who made her dress in rags and clean non-stop. And she still manages to go through all of that “With a Smile and a Song”.
And when she thinks her Step Mother is being kind to her, letting her wear a clean dress and letting her pick flowers and be free from chores for at least just an hour, but it turns out that she had been tricked, and that the Huntsman was supposed to kill her. But because of her kindness, the Huntsman couldn’t bring himself to kill her.
So Snow ran away, scared, and with good reason to be. The Queen will have her guts pulled out if she ever saw her again. Yet when Snow is in the forest with the woodland creatures, she apologizes for crying and asks to start over, to re-introduce herself. That’s brave, if you ask me. and she didn’t have to wear pants or wield a stick either. People forget that there are two kinds of bravery, physical fighting, (Like all female characters seem to do these days) and mental fighting, smiling even though your cared out of your mind. Keeping your head high when things are dreary, finding the good in a sea of bad.
As a girl, I’m tired of all this talk that a girl can’t wear a dress and be a bad-ass. Bo, to me, was a good character because she balanced out the other female characters, there was variety. Bo was sweet natured and girly, yes, but she was also wise and insightful and had way more depth than the new Bo. Alright, time to turn this conversation onto Toy Story 4, because I’m mad at it.
When people say, “Oh I can’t believe Woody left with Bo! What a bad decision!” they don’t say that like he never met her, they say it because Bo’s an arsehole. Woody left his family, and though we could argue that Bo is family, too, she isn’t a very nice part. she called Woody an accessory, acted rather rude towards him, and abandoned him twice because he was doing the right thing, yet she makes him apologize for it.  Like girl you dumped him and left him in your cardboard box and your acting like Woody ate your last jelly bean. What did he do to deserve being treated so harshly? I don’t get it. since when is it illegal to show affection towards someone you love?
The way I see it, Feminism in Disney is just taking female characters and making them a Gaston. Y’know, very butch, very masculine, the favorite of the town and everyone loves him because, well, he’s the town’s favorite son. Taking a girl and stripping her of her femininity and replacing it with a stick.
Honestly, I’m not even mad. I just wish they did more with Bo. I have this Toy Story 4 Concept Art Book, and it was just filled with better iteration's of what she could’ve been, and it’s disappointing. I mean in one drawing she had a pencil for a leg and a missing eye and to me that’s a big missed opportunity. Instead they went with just a blue jumpsuit. Yet everyone made crazy versions of what she should look like, and then they went for the boringest decision.
And on one full page, it’s just about what Bo’s hands should look in front of her cape, and other crazy things. Like who even cares? I’d rather have a compelling character with a slight wardrobe malfunction than what we got any day.
It just makes me sad what they did to a good character like Bo. I like that she was girly, I liked that she was flirty, since when are those aspects in a woman bad? I don’t even care what her outfit looks like. Wearing pants doesn’t mean you ‘Wear the pants’, and wearing a skirt doesn’t make you inferior, literally regardless of gender.
Let. Girls. Be. Girls. And that doesn’t just mean being ‘girly’, it can mean anything. Being a girl is whatever you want it to be. Being you, whoever you are, girl, boy, both, or neither, is whoever you want to be. Just as long as you aren’t hurting anyone, anyway.
And not all men are scumbags. Most of my friends are dudes, and they’re coolest dudes I’ve ever met. And not all girls like to swing sticks and wear pants, Y’know. Not all girls are rebellious and smack-talking and bossy.
I also hate what they did to Dolly and Trixie. Dolly was spunky and cute, but now she’s just down-right psychotic. Like she legit tried to murder Forky in Forky asks a Question just because he was verbal-stimming. 
And Trixie’s no better. She yells at Forky for something he didn’t even do on purpose. He accidentally broke her laptop, but like the poor guy didn’t even mean to. And the laptop isn’t even hers it’s not like she paid for it, she shouldn’t even be angry.
Not gonna lie, if someone broke my laptop I’d be pissed, but I certainly wouldn’t act the way Trixie did.
Give characters a variety of personalities. Don’t make any gender inferior. And stop making I out like all men are trash, please.
I don’t even mind strong female characters, I love them, I love seeing fan-arts of Bo on here, and I don’t give a crap that others like her, it’s none of my business what characters they like. I just wish we had more variety, though. Less brawn, more brains. Less bossy, more kind. Less screaming “You won’t listen to me! I’m always right!”, and more listening to others opinions.
And give them obstacles, too. Just because a character is female doesn’t mean you can’t give them something to make them grow. People want to see a character strive for greatness, no matter what. Not just whack ‘em with a stick and be done with it, we want the character to change throughout the story, regardless of gender. A story just about a character effortlessly kicking ass, and never coming to harm or learning anything isn’t very entertaining, nor does it tech the kids watching anything. Especially when kids are the age were they copy everything they see on television.
I just hope Disney figures that out in time.
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