#sorry i have folk music brain now and I think writing personal music is a sin im aware I'm ludicrous

[hotchs-bitch]

Fluffy Feb Day 28- Comfort Sex [Greg Montgomery]

Warnings: established relationship, praise kink, some dumbification, overstimulation, oral sex (both receiving), condescending Greg, p in v sex, comfort sex but make it a little kinky because February can be very tough and I know the girlies are struggling rn (I am one of the girlies)

Pairing: Greg Montgomery x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: big love to @greg-montgomery for reading it over, and inspiring me to write this, and to @doctorstethoscope for putting on this amazing event❤️ this is the first thing I’ve written for a non CM character, so please let me know what you think! Happy fluffy feb, folks. That’s a wrap

“Hi, honey!” The predictable kiss to your cheek when Greg sets his briefcase down should make you feel better, but the smile you force makes him pause. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The lie rolls off your tongue with ease. You’re fine. “How was your day?”

“It was Anderson’s last day, so Pete brought a few strippers into the office. Oh, and I finished up that divorce settlement that’s been dragging on.” Greg’s jacket comes off and he hangs it on the coat rack before moving toward the sofa. “My mother wants us to come over for dinner on Friday to discuss the charity luncheon. It’s for sick horses, or maybe women, I think; she either said ‘equestrian’ or ‘equality’, but the stripper music was really loud.”

“So a normal day, for you.” Your teasing falls a little flat, and he frowns as he sits down next to you on the sofa.

“I guess. Hey, what’s going on? Where’s that smile?” His coaxing doesn’t have the effect he’s looking for, you’re sure. Instead, your chin wobbles and you let out a huff of annoyance. “Talk to me. Come on.”

“Everyone’s just… everyone is an idiot,” you snap, catching yourself off-guard with the fury behind your words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s just, I feel like I’m the only person at work who has a brain and knows how to use it, and I feel like I’m doing everything, and now my boss is mad at me because I’ve made a few mistakes because I’ve been doing everyone else’s job, and now we have this luncheon to worry about for your mother’s horses, and-”

“Hey.” His voice is sharp, and one hand encircles your wrist. “Just breathe. Don’t apologize to me. I want you to tell me this kind of stuff, honey, you know that. Is anything else bothering you?”

The laundry list of things that have been annoying you seems meagre when you actually have to say it out loud. “I got stuck on the way to work behind a car that didn’t use its turn signal,” you mumble. “And the diner was out of sandwiches when I went there for lunch because they didn’t make enough to last all day. It’s all dumb stuff, I’m just tired.”

“It’s not dumb. If it’s bothering you, it’s not dumb,” Greg promises. “What can I do to help? Just say the word.”

You huff again, ignoring the way his lips twitch at the sound. “I don’t know. I just feel like you and I are the only people in the world who have two brain cells to rub together, and I’m tired of it. I spend every single day thinking for everyone and fixing things they should fix, and doing things they should be doing.”

Greg puts one arm around your shoulders, pulling you in sideways. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dragging his lips against your cheek in a long kiss. “You know what I think?”

“That I should get promoted? Or at least, get in less trouble?” You grumble, allowing him to pull you close. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, yes,” he agrees after a second. “Of course. But I can’t do that. What I can do is, I can turn your pretty little brain off for a while.”

Oh. That’s not what you were expecting to hear, but it sounds nice. “I just don’t want to think,” you mumble, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. “It’s too much.”

“I know it is, baby. Come on, it’s okay,” he soothes. One of his hands slides down your side, seamlessly unbuttoning your pants. “Can I? Let me take care of you.”

That’s the magical sentence, the key to the kingdom, and you nod in answer. Your eyes start to flutter shut when his fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, but you force yourself to keep them open so you can look at him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs again, leaning in to line your neck with kisses. “No need to think. You’re mine, remember? And I take good care of what’s mine.”

It’s true, he does, and you can already feel yourself going fuzzy around the edges when he circles your clit with one finger. “Mm…”

You feel his smile against your skin, that self-satisfied smirk he wears whenever he turns you to putty. “That’s it. Just take it, just like that. My good girl’s already getting so wet for me, so perfect.”

Greg won’t push a finger in until you’re dripping; you know that from experience. One of his fingers keeps circling your clit, and he uses his other hand to push down your shirt and bra, giving him access to thumb at your nipple.

“I’ll, I can take it off,” you offer, already thinking about sliding off your shirt and unclasping your bra, and Greg sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder in warning.

“I’ll take it off when I want it off,” he promises. “Stop trying so hard. You’re mine, I’m in charge here. You’re going to get what I give you, yeah? You’ve got a safeword. If you aren’t saying it, you’re taking what you get.”

“Y-yeah.” Your breath hitches through the word when he pinches your nipple, his finger rubbing you faster with more and more pressure as the seconds pass. 

His hand moves down slightly, and he groans into your ear when he swipes a finger through your folds to discover how wet you are. “That’s it. Is this turning you on, hm? You like it when I take good care of my princess?” One finger moves back to rub at your clit, lubricated with your arousal.

When he pulls his head away from your shoulder, you bury his face in his neck. It hardly muffles your moans, or your whines of, “Gonna, I need to, please,” against his skin.

“Come for me,” he coaxes. “You don’t have to ask, it’s okay. All over my hand, just like that, go ahead.”

The permission is like a release all on its own, and you moan unabashedly into him as you come, shaking and writhing against him as you grind down onto his hand. 

His finger stays steady against you, working you through your orgasm while you whimper into his neck. When he doesn’t stop playing with your clit, you pull back with a soft groan.

“Was good,” you sigh out, and Greg kisses you sweetly without his rhythm faltering. “I’m- oh, I’m good, baby, thank you.”

“Very good,” he agrees, his voice soft and husky against your lips. “I’ve got such a good girl. You can come again, good girl, I know you can.”

“Greg…” You squirm under him, pleasure mounting quickly as your first orgasm starts to build into your second without letting you come down first. 

He shushes you, kissing your neck again as you come undone on his fingers a second time, your orgasm cresting like a soft wave. “You can take it, just like that. So wet for me, sweetheart, so perfect.” The praise kisses your ears as he kisses you again, finally, blissfully withdrawing his hand as you take a deep breath.

Several deep breaths later, you start to return to yourself. The orgasms weren’t fireworks, or mind-blowing. They were good, of course, but they washed over you in a gentle wave of pleasure rather than making you cry out or making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Ready for more?” He asks with another slow kiss, and you pull back to blink at him.

“More?” You echo, and Greg chuckles at that.

Standing up off the couch, he offers you one hand and you take it. “Yes, more,” he promises, leading you toward the bedroom. “My girl hasn’t had enough yet. I want to hear you beg.”

The bed is soft beneath you when he lays you back, skimming both hands down your eyes before slowly- painfully slowly- tugging your pants and underwear down until they hit the floor. “I want to taste you,” you mumble, and he grins.

Something about sucking him off, having the most intimate part of him under your control, never fails to drive you crazy. Some days, he comes home to find you already on your knees because you crave the taste of him so badly. Although, ever since one incident where you’d nicked the head of his dick with one of your teeth, he has a new… approach.

“You think you can take it? Already, baby, but you need to be careful,” he warns. “Remember, my good girl knows how to listen. You can unzip me.”

His zipper comes down so fast that it’s almost comical, and when he gives permission you push his pants and boxers off while he discards his shirt. 

“I want it.” Your voice is breathless as you eye his hard cock, hard enough to be standing up when he lays back on the bed.

“I know you do,” he says, his voice equal parting soothing and husky. “Okay, greedy girl. You remember what to do?”

This part always frustrates you; the way he talks like you’ve never blown him before, like you’ve never had him whining for your touch. “I know,” you huff, and he wraps one hand in your hair to steady it against the back of your head.

He continues talking like he hasn’t heard you. “First, you can grip it. Stroke nice and slow, get me ready. Stick out your tongue, that’s it. Look how fast my girl is learning.”

You’re perched between his thighs, one hand gripping his hairy leg while you take his cock in your other hand and stroke it. Nice and slow, just like he said, and when you see a bead of pre-cum your tongue slides out of your open mouth of its own volition. 

“I’m ready,” you insist, and Greg twists his hand in your hair just tight enough to hurt. “I am! I’m ready, I can do it.”

“You can do it if you can follow instructions,” he corrects you. “Tap the head on your tongue, sweetheart. Let me feel that mouth.”

“Could feel more of my mouth,” you mumble, but he ‘tsk’s at that until you follow his direction.

“Not yet, I can’t,” he sighs while he watches you, sympathetic. “Now, maybe if my greedy girl weren’t a safety hazard, we could do this however you want. But for now, you’re listening to me.”

You want to complain about that, but then he’s got his free hand steadying your jaw. “Open up more,” he murmurs, and your jaw drops obediently. “Good girl. If I feel anything other than that tongue and those pretty lips, I’m going to edge you until you cry. And we don’t want that, do we?”

He uses the hand tangled in your hair to shake your head for you. “No, we don’t.” He answers his own question, then slowly pushes into your mouth. “Just like that, good girl,” he praises. “You can stroke the rest of it, for now. You feel so good, I don’t want to finish too soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to his instructions, bobbing your head only as much as he allows you to. Drool escapes your mouth, making the glide of your hand on his cock smoother, and you shift with excitement when you hear him sigh in pleasure.

You’re doing it. You’re being his good girl, following his instructions so perfectly, and if you could live out the rest of your days with your head between his thighs and his hands holding you in place, you surely would. It’s blissful, the familiar weight of him in your mouth, grounding you.

Time passes- how much, you can’t say- and Greg lets you get closer, take a little more of him. He even lets you suckle at his sac at one point before guiding you back up to his cock and thrusting shallowly; something he does so rarely that it feels like a reward for you when he does. He pumps into your mouth, once, twice, and you can feel him twitch against your tongue before he pulls out completely.

“Didn’t finish,” you complain, and he shuts you up by pulling you closer up on the bed with the hand in your hair and kissing you.

“I know, baby,” he soothes when you’ve broken apart, discarding your shirt and bra to the floor. “I know. But you got to taste, and now I can make my girl feel so good, can’t I?”

“Fuck me.” It’s half demand, half plea, and Greg is having none of it.

“Not yet.” He lays you back on the bed and gets between your thighs, kissing a line down your neck. When you whine with impatience, two of his fingers nudge your lips. “Suck on those, sweetheart. You can be good for a little longer.”

He’s right, you can be, so you eagerly suck the digits into your mouth as his lips caress your breasts, then your stomach, then your upper thighs while he slides down the bed. “Mm,” you protest around the fingers when you spread your legs for him, and he doesn’t immediately dive between them, instead pulling the fingers out of your mouth and tracing your nipple with saliva.

Sucking his cock has gotten you worked up again, and you’re ready for one of those mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasms that only he can give you. Luckily, he acquiesces after a long moment, wrapping his lips around your clit to suck. Hard.

His tongue pushes into you, curling and probing perfectly, and he pulls off after a minute just to murmur, “Come when you’re ready,” and then he’s back on you with fervour. When you do come, your back arches and you cry out and this time you definitely see fireworks, but he’s still not stopping. “Again,” he insists, panting into your skin as his tongue flicks against your clit and you moan.

Both of your hands are tangled in his hair by the time he pulls away, and by then you’ve got no idea how many times you’ve finished. Orgasm has blurred into orgasm, one continuous stream of pleasure that has you blinking away tears and breathing heavily when Greg comes up for air. His chin is wet, his eyes sinfully dark, and he’s still got a stupid smirk on his face, and if you could possibly come again you would probably do it just from looking at him.

“Just a few more,” he promises you, fisting his cock. It’s an angry purple, the bedsheet under him spotted with pre-cum, and you moan aloud at the idea of him enjoying eating you out so much that’s turning him on. His promise of ‘a few more’ doesn’t even register, at first. You’re drunk off the feel of his tongue, unable to form a sentence if you tried, and you need him inside you now.

“Please.” It’s a whine, and Greg grins at your needy pout while he kisses you. “Please, I need it.”

“I know you do,” he whispers. “Can you ride me? Can my princess handle that?”

You shake your head, no, you can’t handle it. Your legs are trembling and achy, you’ve come too many times, and you couldn’t move right now if you tried.

Instead of getting frustrated, Greg just chuckles while he pushes your legs back open. “No?” He teases, pressing the head of his cock against your hole. He pushes the head in slightly, then pulls it out just to hear your lewd moan at the loss. “Did I make my good girl so dumb she can’t even ride me? I’ve been so nice to you, sweetheart, and you can’t help your man out?”

Tears prick at your eyes as you nod furiously. “M sorry,” you gasp out, willing your legs to spread further for him. His thumb grazes your clit again and you flinch, overstimulated. “It’s, it’s too much, I can’t.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” His grin doesn’t falter as his thumb speeds up, pressing directly on the bundle of nerves until your eyes roll back and your back arches off the bed. “I’ll forgive you if you can come again, how’s that sound?”

It sounds impossible, but the way he’s giving you no reprieve is starting to make you shake under him all over again. “Can’t, I can’t, please!”

“I think you can.” He presses his cock into you again, hardly an inch. “You love it when I do this, you love being my dumb baby. You beg for it. Soak my cock, get it nice and wet so I can fuck you.”

Your whimper almost breaks the sound barrier, you swear. Greg’s thumb doesn’t slow down or break the rhythm at all when you try to squirm away, and he pins you down with one hand on your abdomen. “Please, please, please, please!”

It’s hard to tell what you’re begging for now, but he doesn’t care. His tongue pokes out in concentration, staring down at your pussy as you clench around the head of his cock. When his eyes dart up, connecting with yours, you shatter.

It’s like falling off a skyscraper, becoming a firework, a train of pleasure colliding with your body as you howl. Words escape you and your mouth falls open in a silent scream when he finally, blissfully, pushes in the rest of the way. You can’t focus on him or the way he cups your cheek or the words he mumbles, you can’t focus on anything except the slick drag of his cock inside you.

“Knew you could do it,” he pants, squeezing your jaw a little. “So pretty when you come for me, baby.”

“Greg, Greg, Greg-” You’re gasping out his name with each punctuated thrust, the only word in your brain now. You can’t even remember your own name, you’re so fuzzy.

“Did I get my girl all stupid?” He croons, grinning down at you with that sinisterly innocent smile. “Oh, I did. Look at those pretty eyes. All glazed over, not a single thought in there. You like my cock that much, princess? Hm?”

“Mhm, mm,” you moan behind closed lips, and you hear his chuckle.

“I thought so. You like it when I treat you good? When I rub that clit until you can’t breathe?” Your sharp inhale follows the sound of him spitting onto his hand, reaching down to roll circles around the swollen bud. “I know you need it, baby, you can do it.”

There are tears streaming down your face now, and you hardly know when they started. You’re too overwhelmed with pleasure, you can hardly stand it, you don’t know how much longer you can go. You don’t want to stop, that’s the only thing you know. He’s in charge, like he always tells you. He knows best, you’re his dumb baby, and you can take whatever he gives you, you can.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos when you don’t try to argue. “Just like that. I’m thinking for you, remember? You’re all mine. You’re going to let me keep playing with this pretty pussy, aren’t you?”

Swallowing a sob, you can only nod as he kisses you again. You let him invade your mouth as you grip his back, leaving scratches that are sure to burn but he only hisses in pleasure. You’re being so good that you’re almost dizzy with the thought of it, so good for him, he’s mumbling into your mouth that you’re so fucking perfect and it makes you shudder in pleasure. 

It can’t be possible for your body to come again, but it also shouldn’t be possible for one man to be so perfect, and you think that Greg can find a way to do anything. When you start to feel that familiar twist in your belly you whine, and he pulls his hand away, and you don’t know if you’re disappointed or relieved.

“Can I come?” He asks, breathless, just what you’ve been waiting for, and he places his hand on your stomach. “Right here, can I fill you up?”

The sigh of relief he lets out when you nod is orgasmic in its own right. He thrusts again, once, twice more, and then you can feel him flooding your insides like he promised, filling you up with him. “Good girl,” he gasps out as he ruts through it, crushing his lips to yours as you kiss back hazily, messily.

Instead of collapsing on the bed when he pulls out, he immediately moves back down your body and mouths at your hip. “I’m gonna clean you up,” he says, gazing up at you as his lips trail lower and he sucks a mark on your inner thigh. “One more, on my tongue. My good girl can do it.”

Truthfully, you don’t know if you can. You feel weighed down, boneless, and the idea of ever coming again sounds impossible. But you’re good for him, you’re his good girl, you’re his, so you just nod. 

“Eyes on me,” he whispers, and he keeps his gaze locked on you as- fuck, as his tongue pushes inside you and curls, lapping up the taste of himself before it can leak out of you. Greg moans against you, into you, and as soon as you can feel your arms again you place one hand in his hair. It’s damp with sweat, the locks sliding through your fingers, and when you tangle your fingers in it to keep a grip on him he only licks harder.

Your hips rock up off the bed to meet his mouth, and his nose bumps against your clit as he tries to get even closer to you. Once he’s satisfied with cleaning his cum out of you he pulls back, still holding eye contact with you, and you see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

You must have died, several orgasms ago. This must be heaven.

Greg latches back onto your clit in a frenzy, sucking hard as he rolls his tongue over the bud, and a fresh stream of tears escapes you when you sob, yanking his hair hard, chanting yes, yes, yes, and please, Greg, fuck, as you come undone on his tongue like you have so many times tonight.

His tongue laves over you as you come down, an unspoken apology to your overused pussy, and he pulls away after you whine softly. Your hands release his hair and he moves up the bed, kissing you gingerly.

This might be your favourite part; lying in his arms in the afterglow, with no need to do or say or think. “Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs once you’ve settled into him. “You did so well for me. How’s my best girl doing?”

Words haven’t returned to you yet; maybe they never will. When he wraps one arm around your shoulders, you roll over on your side to nestle your head in your favourite spot between his jaw and his collarbone and hum with contentment.

“So perfect,” he praises, and you turn your face into the crook of his neck. He loves to praise you, especially afterwards, and you both know how badly you want- no, need- to hear it, but it still gets you embarrassed sometimes. “You took me so well, sweet girl. I’m so proud of you.”

“Sorry.” Your voice is raspy, your throat dry, and your words are muffled against him. “Couldn’t ride you, Greg. ‘M sorry.”

“Hey,” he pulls back just enough to kiss the side of your head, “No apologizing. You could never let me down, angel. You’re so perfect for me, all the time.” When you relax back against him, he continues speaking, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Honestly, after all that, I’ll be impressed if you can even walk.”

There might be a challenge in his tone, or maybe you’re just imagining it, because when you hmph indignantly he lets out a tranquil sigh and starts stroking soothing lines down your back with the hand wrapped around you. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s not find out tonight. You deserve some rest. Do you need anything else?”

After a moment, you inhale deeply. You’re surrounded by the scent and feel and voice of the man you love. The taste of him is still in your mouth, and you’ve got a perfectly-captured image in your mind’s eye of the beautiful smile he gave you before he kissed you. You’ve got everything you need, and you shake your head to tell him that.

“Alright. You’ll let me know if you need anything, okay?” He waits for you to nod. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” you mumble. You want to hear more of him, you want him to speak until his is the only voice you recognize, so you ask the only thing you can think of short of asking him to read you the dictionary. “How was your day?”

A smile pulls at his lips, and you can see it in your head when you feel his jaw shift above you. It’s that lopsided smile that always makes you want to kiss him silly, you just know it is. “It was good. It was Anderson’s last day, and we had a party. How was your day, princess?”

You sigh against his skin, relaxing into his embrace like it’s a warm cloud you could sink into and never emerge from. “It was perfect.”

Fluffy Feb masterlist | < Prev Day

Fluffy Feb tags: @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb @iammirrorball @hausofwhores @allthefandomstogether @myweepingangel @hotched @spacecowboyhotch @chibsytelford @honeybrowne @formulapierre @nd264 @hotchnerxnegan1017 (send me a dm or ask to be tagged!)

#my writing #t’s blurbs #fluffy feb #doctorsteths fluffy feb #Greg Montgomery x reader fluff #Greg x reader fluff #greg montgomery x reader smut #greg montgomery smut #Greg montgomery fluff #greg x reader smut #dharma and greg #dharma and Greg fanfiction #grey montgomery fanfic #Greg montgomery x reader fanfiction #Greg montgomery x reader #Greg montgomery x you #greg montgomery #Greg montgomery x fem reader #Greg montgomery x female reader #Greg x reader #Greg x fem reader #Greg x female reader

[thegeminisage]

17, 22, 23, and 35 for the fic writer ask game?

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

oh man i hate to get stuck on wording, but i don't really believe in writer's block!! i wrote a whole post about it here but the short version is that i believe when you are having trouble writing, summing up the general trouble as "writer's block" just makes the problem harder to solve. it's always down to something specific: do i not know where to go next? am i lacking joy in the craft? is there a big intimidating restructure in my future? (there is literally one of these on both my wips currently. kill me) so, to actually answer the question instead of being pedantic, step number one is ALWAYS to figure out EXACTLY why i'm not feeling it. when you figure out what the problem is it's a LOT easier to come up with solutions.

the other thing i do is manage my soundscape. this includes music - i have adhd, so the "right" music, preferably songs i can loop 1000000 times without getting tired of them, will make or break my productivity to a ridiculous degree - but it also includes ambient sounds. i really like this website because you can make your own mixes, and they have a whole section dedicated to fandom-based ones folks have made: inside the tardis, driving the impala, inside the jedi temple, whatever. (they have similar fandom-related atmospheres for video games on youtube. here's one of my favorites.) making one sometimes veers into productive procrastination, but when i'm having trouble getting started (often the hardest part) it usually does the trick. fellow insomniacs - they're also great for falling asleep, lol.

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

not really. i don't have the same problem with first-person, for example, that a lot of other people seem to, and i like an excuse to do a different style or whatever. even things i don't normally read for, like non-con, is something i have written about happening in the past (not onscreen) when the situation calls for it. i have only two hard limits: omegaverse and aus. you won't catch me dead doing either one. i think the first is self-explanatory, but as to the latter: i think so much of characters is who they are and their history. when you write an au from the ground up - like, a flowershop au or whatever, as opposed to an au that just veers away from canon at some point - you are taking and rewriting that entire history, and those characters become different people, and my investment almost instantly tanks to zero. i know those people, i don't care about them, and i don't want to write them. i don't even read aus unless it's from an author whose fic i absolute die over...right now, i could count those authors on one hand, lol. fusion aus are a bit of a gray area if i like both properties in question. i did once outline a titanic au for [redacted fandom] and also an anastasia au for bbc merlin*. but that's because i like both the movie anastasia and the characters from merlin. and even then, it's only a tumblr post to exorcise it from my brain - it's never something i'd turn into an actual fic.

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

YOU MUST HAVE FUN. you must you must you MUST have fun. do not do the thing if you do not love to do it. if you do not feel joy when creating then it will come through in the work, like a cranky cook burning their food. if you are writing only for comments: don't. if you are writing because you think you will let down friends/readers/etc otherwise: don't. "write for yourself" doesn't mean don't share work it means write because it makes you happier, or because you'll die if you don't. DON'T DO IT if it doesn't bring you joy!!!!!

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

two things. i'm cheating a little sorry. the first thing is pretty simple and common villain advice: remember that in your villain's pov they are the hero, or at the very least are justified. very few good, well-rounded villains are out here twirling their mustaches and being evil for the sake of evil.

the second thing is DO NOT make your protagonists less competent in order to make your villain seem more scary. this will backfire on you every fucking time. if you want your villain to seem smarter and stronger you cannot simply just make your protagonists dumber and weaker. otherwise they look like out-of-character idiots. consider the character of theo in teen wolf's fifth season...regardless of how you feel about the character, especially in other seasons, it's hard to argue his introductory arc was well-structured. in just a few short episodes, he managed to break years-long bonds between established characters...because the writers decided to make those characters mistrustful and misunderstanding of each other for no reason. instead of ANY of these characters using their brains or believing their good friends, they all acted exactly as theo predicted BECAUSE the writers wanted theo to seem smart and good at manipulating people. but it's definitely NOT how those guys would have acted if they were real people, and theo certainly didn't manage to trick us, the audience - so they just look like morons, instead. (this is why season 5 is the worst season by the way.) never do this. figure out what your characters would do first and THEN use your godlike powers to come up with a way to manipulate them. you're in charge of this thing after all!!!

[ASK MEME]

*i looked really, really hard for this, for over an HOUR, but i can't find it :( essentially arthur plays the anya, merlin the dmitri, morgana the grandmama, and gwen the vlad. it's not a unique concept bc i found other people spinning the idea in less detail on tumblr when i googled it, but i can't find MY DETAILED WRITEUP and i'm mad about it lol. if anyone writes one link me to it. if anyone finds it on my blog on god i'll write you a less than 1k merlin drabble of your choice. hold me to it.

#thank you for sending so many!!! they were so fun to answer. i love to complain about theo teenwolf #liz answers asks #twisted-pride #ASK MEMES #liz loves writing

[another-dra-anew]

mekaru cuz she's neglected tbh 🥺?

im so fucking guilty of neglecting her. i neeed her to make friends so i can start spinning her in my mind with characters im already obsessed with so she can be More in my brain as her own character. mekaru pls pls just start being more authentic and love urself-

cw she has so much internalized homophobia. that’s all tho

-My identity hc for them

canon lesbian!! has a lot of comphet tho. like, a lot. like, only character to upload the “fact” they’re het to their report card. 

- Thoughts on their home life/family

ya know. i think she’s lying to herself about how much she likes kids. i don’t think she’s inclined to them but playing babysitter all the time has made her p child adverse. however admitting this means realizing she can’t gain “i am a normal respectable non-offending person who no one has any reason to have any issue with” points by raising 2.5 kids. so. yeah she just chooses to keep lying to herself

- How i feel about their canonical writing/handling

tbh i think i do a bad job portraying her comphet? buuut. to take a step back and think neutrally about things, i think that’s predominantly a result of, again, the role she plays in the story, and the fact we’re not in her head. we can judge how well i write her comphet when we get to pick her brain a bit more in ftes. id rather have a more subtle, more accurate depiction, then one that’s made inaccurate with how in your face “wow my bestie is so pretty if only girls who liked girls were real…” it is. (<- not that portrayals like that are bad/wrong, it’s abt enjoying yourself while not feeding into negative stereotypes! i just don’t really want to depict her comphet in that more lighthearted manner).

- The one thing i’d want to make canon about them

again. this is prolly just gonna be stuff which didn’t happen in canon but could’ve if things were different? w/mekaru i think if she studied psychology more and like. Dedicated herself to it she could easily rise to shsl psychiatrist level. this is canon but i think that she’s specifically interested in medicine when it comes to treatment of the human condition. she likes and grasps it all, but the history of assorted pills is where she Shines

- My number one favorite ship for them

okada my beloved <3. (obligatory: okada aimi is mekarus bestie! she’ssss. sapphic, i don’t have anything more specific/anything otherwise canon for her. she likes mekaru and thinks mekaru likes her back (she’s right), buuut. she hasn’t confessed because she thinks she’ll be rejected (she’s right, again.) she’s trying to gently tug mekaru into having a Revelation but it hasn’t been going v well for her.

- …Now everyone else i ship with them

i used to say that like. tomori was probably her gateway into her moment of Realization. i can still see that being true but i think it was less genuine desire to date and moreso.  mekaru projecting what she feels she needs to be onto tomori then seeing tomori being queer and going. hmmm. anyways tho. i kinda like her w/kurokawa but i think kurokawas just v shippable? poor okada tho i think she’d would be crying and throwing up if she found out mekaru dated a girl from hpa before dating her.

also tho i kinda think she’d be cute w/hatanami. sorry okada :(

- The thing i will NEVER ship

she is in fact still a lesbian, folks! uhh past that tho im rotating her with different girls and i don’t like the idea of her and inori like. at all for some reason

- a dynamic/relationship i wish was explored more (in canon, or in fandom)

i think it’d be neat if she. i don’t know got to have friends. id like to chat abt her interacting with tomori more!!

- thoughts on their design (appearance-wise)

im really happy with her redesign! her personality and demeanor changed from the first one she had here, but her fit didn’t change, and it really just didn’t work. also it’s kinda matchy with linujs actual beta design for rei iirc? so that’s funny

- A music-related thought- a song that reminds me of them, or what their music taste is, etc

lol. little miss perfect from write out loud/etc. uhh past the obvi one i had to list… first love/late spring - mitski comes to mind less in a. struggling with growing up and loving seriously as an adult and moreso. fear that comes with realizing ur in love with ur bestie (u are a teen with severe internalized homophobia). again apologizing for my inability to stick with what the song is actually about at least this one was semi accurate. please know i will go to war when it comes to respecting mitski as an artist and not dismissing her experiences and what she’s saying. 

#mekaru rei #ask meme

[estellamiraiauthor]

The Stars May Rise and Fall: The Annotated Re-read (Chapter 12)

Alright, folks. Chapter 12. Not quite sure why my brain picked THIS particular point to have the mental block, but I’m well aware we’re coming up on 14 and 15, which were hell to write. This one shouldn’t be so horrible in and of itself, though, so let’s dive back in to More Information About My Book Than Anyone Ever Asked For! (Spoilers under the cut)

So, I actually like the opening here, where it’s been three and a half days and Rei STILL hasn’t replied, and Teru’s STILL hoping and thinking it might be him every time his phone rings. In other news, I really don’t miss dating at all.

I’m not quite sure about Minori’s wisdom here wanting to cut a demo on the same night the new drummer’s auditioning. Are they going to get the new guy to play on the demo? Were they planning to have Teru do it? Or synthesize it or what? I have no clue. I think it just felt like, plot wise, both of these things needed to be happening around now. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, though. Sorry.

Anyway, now it’s Teru’s turn to act like he’s angry at Rei when he’s really probably just mad at himself. After a bit of internal angsting, he drafts and re-drafts this overly polite email pretending he really just wants to come over to get some sheet music. GOD, I really do not miss dating at all. I used to do this crap ALL the time… like, if you’re upfront about being interested is it going to come off as desperate? So better come up with some REASON for emailing, right? Except it can’t be TOO good a reason or the other person will read it as NOT interested. BLEH. Poor Teru. This particular relationship stage REALLY SUCKS.

Fun flashback here to old cell phones that had a little blinking light on top that would let you know if you had a missed call or message. Of course, Teru DOESN’T when he gets off work because of course Rei has remembered when he gets off and is going to time his call perfectly with that.

OK, now I really need to address the line where maybe I fucked up the most… I dunno, I got a really harsh review about this line, and while I don’t really agree with the reviewer’s logic that All Instances of Subconscious Ableism Should Be Called Out Directly On the Page, I would 100% change the line if I had it to do over again, because it didn’t really say what I was trying to say.

So Teru is walking to Rei’s apartment from the station, and wondering why this trip has come to feel so routine, and why he feels comfortable hanging out at Rei’s apartment when he’s never really invited romantic partners over to his place or been invited to theirs before. (This is definitely a Japan thing by the way, it’s much less usual to go over to someone’s house here until you’re REALLY serious.)

And he thinks to himself:

Was it because Rei couldn’t leave? But he’d seen Teru play. He’d been at the studio. Just because he acted like an invalid most of the time didn’t mean he really was one.

So, I fucked up with this line, and I apologize. I did not know what the word “invalid” meant. I thought it meant “housebound” or maybe even “bedbound”. It actually does not… it’s kind of an old-fashioned and icky word period, but it just means disabled. Which Rei clearly is. Which Teru definitely knows. And what I was TRYING to say here was that Teru did not feel more comfortable at Rei’s house because going out was more physically complicated than it would have been with previous partners, but because he’s genuinely falling in love. I clearly fucked this up, however, and this will obviously also not be in that hypothetical anime. (Note to writers: Look up any and all words before you use them.)

Anyway. Teru does show up, Rei gives him the music, but then asks him not to go to rehearsal, but to stay. I think he’s been working up the courage to do this for four  days now, and ESPECIALLY since Teru sent that email. Even though he’s still conflicted about “betraying” Saki, he’s spent that time trying to convince himself that Saki would want him to be happy, that there’s no harm in just taking Teru to dinner… so Rei screws up all the courage he has and makes this somewhat awkward but really sweet (in my very biased opinion) invitation.

Rei’s usual blue wig is a tangled mess, so he wears this greyish-lavender wig here that I REALLY want some art of. Here’s another regret: I had a character who could literally have a completely different hair color in every scene, and I did not use that NEARLY as much as I should have. But for their first real date, he’s wearing a different wig, and if anyone would draw that for me I’d love you forever.

And Teru suggests they go to Shibuya… this is kind of an inside-joke thing that maybe seems a little contrived. It makes SENSE that Teru wouldn’t be familiar with Rei’s posh neighborhood, but especially since they don’t end up going to a restaurant he’s ever been to before anyway, it might seem a little silly that I had them get on the train, but the first reason for this was that AGES ago, in 2005 when I wrote the first draft of this scene, I had a friend who was writing a series of real-person fanfics about visual kei musicians hooking up in love hotels in a specific part of Shibuya, where there are just a lot of them congregated into one area. We called it “love hotel hill”. I have no idea what anyone else called/calls it. But I knew they were going to end up at a love hotel at the end of the night and I wanted them in a hotel on that hill as a little nod to my friend’s fanfics.

The second reason was that it gave Teru (always sweet and considerate) a chance to suggest taking a cab, and Rei (always weirdly stubborn according to rules that make sense to him but no one else) a chance to refuse. “No one takes a taxi from Meguro to Shibuya,” he says, and that’s probably not REALLY true… rich businessmen who think public transportation is beneath them certainly do. But I think the point here is that Rei just really wants to be “normal”. And to him, before the accident, the “normal” thing would have been to take the train, so he’s determined to do that here.

And then when they actually get to the restaurant, which is on the ninth floor, Teru kind of hesitates before calling the elevator, thinking Rei is going to insist on taking the stairs, but Rei says “no one takes the stairs to the ninth floor”—again, determined to be his version of “normal”. This comes up again in the next chapter too… I think he just has this very very strict mental definition of who he is as a person, and he’s not willing (at this point) to change that, despite the fact that his body has changed.

(Yes, I know this is WARPED and UNHEALTHY. This is a fucking PHANTOM RETELLING. Does anyone think the normal, healthy reaction to being born disfigured is “build  a torture chamber in the basement of the Paris Opera and drop a chandelier on the audience when the singer you don’t like goes onstage”? No? Then can we please, please accept that I was TRYING TO WRITE A CHARACTER WHO IS MENTALLY ILL AND SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? THAT WAS THE LITERAL POINT.)

*Sigh* So maybe I was just putting this off because so much of what people don’t like about these characters at this point in time was THE EXACT POINT I WAS TRYING TO MAKE and also kind of a little personal?

#the stars may rise and fall #annotated #phantom retelling #phantom characters aren't supposed to be mentally healthy y'all

[hazyaltcare]

Heya! Could I request some positivity for a Peppermint Patty (Peanuts)?

The reason may seem kinda stupid but whatever. Recently I found this one short (not saying the name for like privacy(?) and like personally comfort) about the Peanuts. I read the plot synopsis being the curious cat I am but I wish I didn't. I wasn't in it but god the things that happened. Now, it's hard for me to think without thinking of violent images related to what I had read. It distresses me to see my friends portrayed in such a way and it hurts me to have these thoughts because I don't want to!! I practically have to remind myself that my friends aren't dead or killers. I have to physically read the comics or watch the movie/animated specials again. I just don't know what to do, I want these thoughts to go away and never come back.

Hello, and thank you for your question.

I don't think the reason is stupid at all. It's common for fiction-folks to read/watch/listen to source media that inadvertently triggered or upset them, and I sympathize with you.

I'm so sorry to hear that seeing the synopsis affected you so much. It's okay to be hurt by these thoughts, and to be upset by the short, even if you know the author is not in the wrong for making it. Many people get upset with depictions of characters in movies, especially those with personal connection to it, most of all your personal friends. I understand that it may feel stupid to be so distressed by "just" the synopsis, but even synopses can be graphic or elicit vivid images in your head. I wish it was easier to get those thoughts out, too.

That show is not real, though. At the very least, it's not what happened in your Peanuts timeline or in this life, or in the comics/show canon.

It's definitely okay to watch the shows or read the comics again to cope, to remind you that your friends are kind, and alive, and well. I hope you can do those things soon.

(Advice start, please ignore if unwanted)

If you have anyone you trust to talk about this with, maybe you can ask them for reassurance that your friends aren't like in that short, or comfort?

If you have any distractions, maybe you can focus your attention on that instead. Maybe something cute and wholesome to get your mind off the terrifying scenes? Or maybe something complicated that forces you to use your entire brain energy to work undistracted, like a puzzle, or a difficult video game, or writing, or something like that. I personally like using noise music to silence my triggering thoughts, but your mileage may vary.

(Advice end)

Anyway, I send you my support. And I hope you find a way to get those thoughts off your head. You deserve some peace of mind.

Mod Vintage (⛔)

#anonymous #positivity #peanuts kin #peppermint patty kin #kin positivity #fictionkin #fictionkin positivity #tw death #death #tw killing #tw murder #mod vintage #⛔

[wack-ashimself]

The worst background actors ever...

(Or the worst director).

Disclaimer: I have a theater degree and worked (past tense: thank god) in hollywood, so I AM a prissy bitch about this. Sorry.

Discalimerer: The main actors are pretty fucking bad too. I mean with the OVER THE TOP melodramatic background music guiding the scene, it's like a CW show almost. Just so fucking much. And for so fucking little.

"Childhood's End" 2015, Syfy show. A lot of syfy shows seems to slip thru the cracks, and I think it's cuz fewer people stream them.

<I am watching for the story because part of this concept I thought of writing years ago (good aliens saving earth and some of us hating them for it), and it was a trilogy. But they changed a few big aspects, so mine would still be quite different. I want to post it, but it's so different that if I posted it, and saw another movie closer to in a few years, I'd lose my shit. Get out of my brain!>

So I am not even done with the first of 3 parts, and I swear to god, at least once in any scene with the general public, one of the fucking background actors says the most 'thank captain obvious, you did nothing but comment on the scene before us all' shit, CONSTANTLY. So either they were told to do that, didn't care, or it was actually WRITTEN which....it's so fucking annoying. No matter what, tho, it still ends on the director to notice that shit.

"What is that?"

"What is she doing?"

'What's going on?'

'Oh, look, it's so and so.'

And they're not faint, barely heard asinine comments. NOPE! They come up on subtitles, so yeah...probably scripted also. Was this a writer was the director thing? Filler till the next scene*?

I just...it's easy to ignore this in bigger budget movies, cuz of other sounds, and other better actors acting, but NOT syfy. God, they are the single hit or miss channel ever. When it's a hit, HUGE hit. But when it's bad, you're like.....did you even try?

<I wouldn't mind a "Happy" new season. That show was fucking wack nutso crazy!>

*Here's some of my lines I would've said.

'Hey, it's THAT guy!'

"I heard he's in love with a mirror." (In show reference...the alien talks from behind a mirror. Now that I explained it, it's ruined!)

'Can't get enough of those NY penthouse hotel suites that small town regular folk can afford on a whim, let alone for THREE FUCKING NIGHTS WITH FULL ROOM SERVICE INCLUDED! IN NO REALITY DOES THAT EXIST' (I have already tons of plot holes. SO SO many.)

"When the aliens came down, instead of a dead person, I saw someone that's still alive. ...Are they now going to die?"

'Man, I remember when the head of the secret service was in charge of entire the government. Best of times.' (SO SO MANY PLOT HOLES.)

'Gasp. WOW. Geez whiz. That is just neato.'

"I heard about them Missouri boys. All about women and spaceships that take them to even bigger spaceships. It's a shame..."

And this one I would be running into the house of the lead and his fiance:

"Why the FUCK did you lie to her about seeing your dead ex? Who gives a shit? And you're staying in the 3 night hotel room slutsgiving bender on repeat with the alien!? You don't deserve her you smug son of a bitch. BACKGROUND OUT!"

#happy #syfy #childhood's end #background actors #background acting #background actor #background out!

[cruelsister-moved]

thots on leonard cohen 😔

he's dead that sounds really unhygenic :/

but my serious answer is i think like bob dylan sometimes the very singular character of his voice as well as frankly some genuinely goofy arrangements obscures the real beauty and power of his words. and sometimes when it's all peeled away you're taken aback by their power.

musically I really can't say i would enjoy him at all if he wasn't such a wordsmith and generally i think music needs to also be musical otherwise it might as well be poetry. some of his songs are served excellently by this character but speak-singing is just not particularly versatile which means he does some things like no one else could, but he also undersells some really brilliant songs.

i like him best with just a guitar and an expressive voice that sways from tender to fierce to morose. i hate him with backing singers and weird out of place brass and cliched strings and a strained voice. in modern music critique the importance of melody is constantly underestimated but you can really do so much if you have a pleasant melody - and i think the real tell in when i enjoy him and when i don't is when he has melodic conviction and when he is meandering directionlessly between half formed themes.

ok and the interesting part that you probably wanted to ask? is like. i increasingly despise a lot of the 60s/70s songwriter crowd as i become more interested in the foundations of actual folk music that these people came out of because it feels so hollow and selfish. i don't like individualism in music- id get all long winded about collective musical traditions here but instead I'll just say that when leonard writes it always feels like he is speaking to and from something much wider than himself.

whereas others, no matter how "deep" and sensitive it is - nick drake, nick cave, dylan at his worst (sorry I don't have many examples of the top of my head bc i. dont listen to the worst offenders)- are writing from these personal bubbles that are increasingly revealed to me as just spiritualized self-deprecating arrogance.

there is nothing more musically unappealing to me than "now listen to my song about me" and having personal experiences be as 'relatable' as possible becoming the new musical yardstick is painful for me ngl. i DONT always relate to him which is why i enjoy him, the same as I wouldn't read a book about an autistic lesbian university student because i already know that. i understand the desire to have your own feelings echoed back to you, I think it's a very human one and I don't look down on people who need it, but to me that's what tweets are for not music.

#ask #anon #sorry i have folk music brain now and I think writing personal music is a sin im aware I'm ludicrous #also presumably u wanted me to say just like. i like him.

[just-pineapple-responses]

Just curious, how many shower thought (response) blogs are there? I just dived into this side of tumblr (not gonna make any posts its fun to read though) and I'm already losing my mind

Well there is

The. Literal. Sun.

Plasma...

S p a c e

ALL HAIL THE LIGHT

The void. It shall consume ALL.

A typewriter incase anyone wants to write their will before they die

Also some ink, not related to the typewriter

Also some words, I wonder who'll use them

A hat with no maker and a maker with no hat

The pen is mightier than the sword. It just so happens that this one is evil. Luckily I can summon multiple

Anyone order some coffee?

Ooo, an author

The literal embodiment if of fanart

A fork, nom noms

B҉ r҉ o҉ k҉ e҉ n҉ 

Soap

Soap(for hair)

Toothpaste

🄵🄰🅄🄲🄴🅃

Towel

Bath mat

Washcloth

Bathtub

Bathwater

𝔹𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕓𝕠𝕞𝕓

Bubblebath!

One (1) bath boi

Some M͓̽o͓̽l͓̽d͓̽ (anybody got some strong disinfectant?)

Nvm, the mold has already caused a plague (gettit?) (although user misspelled it)

Nevermind, there's already a parasite here

Mirror

Door!!!

Some curtains

A denim jacket

Blackout

Rainbow

✨ Magic ✨

*Tree poses to assert dominance*

Coconut

(obviously me)

I think popeye dropped a tin of spinch and it became sentient?

Tost

Hummus. dip tost?

Criss Cross applesauce

Wibbly wobbly Wibbly wobbly jellyo

Mmmm océan s o u p

Some poison, a great addition for my soup

Smol bean

Potat

Shower magpie who I haven't seen in a while

Bird (brain)

Frog(×2:Electric Boogaloo)

An axolotl!

Ferret

*looks at smudged writing on hand. Squints. * a raccoon

Stinky bastard man (I just had to put the two next to each other)

Rat.

Becometh crab 🦀 (x2: Electric Boogaloo)

Nya~

Edgy Nya~

Tripod of dog

Brain

Nina i found one of your neurons (if you understand this reference, good job you)

A rotted brain, keep it away before it infects us all, I only have 2 braincells left

Did... Did someone drop their spinal cord?

The almighty binch

The titanic

Narrator

Water based introspection

Existential crisis

Dumbass

Also a pacifier (get it because they're also called dummies and their name is dummy)

A foolish thought to say a sorry sight join the shower community (as you can tell we did Shakespeare in English so many times i pretty much can recite everything lady macbeth said)

ADHD

Ominous

Anonymous

Anxious 🥺👉👈

Some edgy bastard

A person of culture I see (although obsessed with tweed for some reason)

1 Dapper boi

Sarcastic

nice

All smiles and sunshine

HAPPY! (why isn't there yellow 😔)

Affection (Derogatory) (I'm sorry I just felt like it)

~Petty~

Idiot

Disaster

Chaos and Order

Comebacks

'vanishing'

Defences

Threatened

Op is on drugs

All the F s

And F-general

Get out of the shower

Shower responses

Dry

The horny and the simp

Shower sins

Thower shoughts

I take quick showers

Shower thots

Last responder *countdown music*

You have shower thoughts?

Your shower thoughts are stupid

Wtf shower thoughts

Another shower responder

MORE

Just shower responses... responses

Response shower

NO SHOWER! only thought (×3)

Mmm, showery

Penny for your thoughts?

Hello darkness my old friend...

Llawyer

Beepbeep

Prussia

Haywire!!!

furry OwO

A Pigeon got in through the door, who left it open?

I'm feeling devious

You're looking glamorous, let's get mischievous, and polyamorous

Gay is stored in the ass

Gay

Trans

*opens door and walks through with you exaggeratedly* Fellas we got the whole LGBTQIA+ community right here

Enby

Hahaha gender go brrr

Lesbian

Lesbian-thot

Lust

Someone who thinks it funny to clown around

Joker (derogatory)

Haha straight

Dead inside

Some supervillain idk

News. Literally a shower news style responses

r

I cannot believe that I forgot Her Greatest Majesty, the Queen. All Hail Royal

Isaac newton?

M megamind?

Fiftieth

Crackhead

Some Phoenix Wright kinnie

What is a Dean Winchester and why does he have a tentacle fetish?

Well well well, if it ain't a homestuckian

Did someone kill/rob The Doctor or something, their TARDIS was left behind and its blocking my pretzels that I left in the shower

Mined crafts uwu

Well well well, if it ain't- *accidentally makes eye contact and is then killed by some unknown shadowy creature holding what seems to be some sort of cube of dirt*

GOTTA GO FAST

Mishamishamishamishamishamishamisha

Gen Z and ready to throw hands with OP

Not puki

Nom noms

Dip dap

Kensa

B͓̽u͓̽n͓̽g͓̽e͓̽r͓̽ ..........

Someone broke their space bar or something

It's time to d-d-d-d-d-dshower

The magical deity of sleepovers

DON'T FALL ASLEEP. NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU-

The muffin man genuinely left drury Lane for this

Txmblr

Moonlit nights on a winters day, stars glimmering gently

A child?

🟥

The fae. Just all of them. Every single one.

Crocus? (What on earth does that mean)

*sings* baba blacksheep have you any wool? Because if not you will be killed (this fits the tune perfectly. If not I have failed in everything)

The theatre itself is here... Somehow

Ahoy-hoy

boo

REEEE- *epic geometry dash gameplay to DanTDM's old intro music*

Yardale, not to be mistaken for riverdale and differs to lawn ale or front porch ale or even meter ale

I'll finish this list later

It's gonna be a long one folks

I'm including a ones that haven't spoken since ages ago because

Boy howdy there's new ones tell me who I'm missing now

Please stop thank you very much this is too many i keep having to add to this any new responder must kill a responder to continue the purge shall claim y'all as I will win i recently started watching Danganronpa

Seriously though everyone after mirror must have a battle royale it's too much i doubt all of you will even last longer than today also happy birthday me -dated:28th- do you even realise what sort of commitment you've made to sell pieces of your soul for entertainment and ability to make such epic retorts each and every post?! I sacrifice many souls DAILY to be throwing such bangers into this stuff y'know?

We have a tap guys we can finally wash our hands of all the blood of our enemies

Seriously though who left the door open I don't want a Pigeon pecking at me (the mishapocalypse got them lol)

So many responders so little time before the end of the world

If I'm missing someone please tell me very thank

There are not enough colours for me to assign a different one to each person 😔 also, wtf is on there twice on purpose

WorldHealthOrganisation IS MISSING (note: you may have a joke in place of name or under a category of names)

So there's lore without me?

ALL HAIL THE LIGHT *moth noises*

Okay now there's alternate timeline versions of responders for the benefit of myself they ain't going on the list bud

There is an incorrect role play blog quotes blog and I am crying. Not of laughter. Just wiuwhdhsjhshjxjabjsjdhdjsj

If any new people join I will go back to causing shower wars for the sake of killing you all I'm done I have snapped my laptop is updating 3 times in a row

I will commit crimes.

Does being a shower responder or role-playing seem encouraging to people to join this "community"? Because I'm pretty sure it's the latter

#ShowerThoughts blogs #Asks #As you can see I'm trying to organise in order of inanimate to animal to concepts to water else #*whatever else #And now rp blogs wow

[mcmoth]

BOIS

The aro c!Tommy propoganda is done.

Here:

Friends can be Home, too

Summary:

Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.

'Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

 He couldn't doubt anymore.

A journey of introspection, self doubt, and realizing you're not alone.

Or read on ao3!

Warnings: swearing, internalized arophobia, which includes self doubt, a bit of self hate, that sort of stuff. Also, this will have like, mentions of attraction and all that stuff, and Tommy gets pretty confused, so if you'd like to avoid that? This isn't the fic for you, ig. Btw, as a reminder, this is all set in the dsmp universe and is not about the irl people in any way.

Now onto the fic!

Welp.

Tommy sure is ready to stab someone right now.

Well, not really. More accurately he wanted to run, or shrivel up into a fucked up raisin, or snap, or just exist in darkness right now. Because there were his two best friends, cuddling on the couch. And he was sat there, next to them, supposed to be enjoying movie night.

It's not like he wasn't happy for them. They can do what they want, he reminded himself, again and again. They're just expressing their love, they're just close, and Tommy has to stop being such a fucking oddball about it. This wasn't weird. It wasn't weird.

And he could even see Ranboo giving him looks, probably about to ask something stupid. But if he made any comment, expressed discomfort, that would just be him being a dick and a weirdo. He's not going to ruin this for them. He just has to… to ignore it. To ignore it. He can do that. Yes.

“You alright, Tommy?”

Tommy's jaw snapped, he could feel his teeth grinding, and the couch was feeling all too small. So with a fast raise to his feet, he stumbled away, throwing a brash “fine" Ranboo's way, something burning deep in the pit that was his chest.

It was fine. It was fine. Why wasn't it fine? What the fuck was wrong with him??

Maybe he was just…

Jealous.

 

***

 

“I think I have a crush on Hannah.”

Tubbo and Ranboo stilled. The silence was… bad.

“oh?”

Tommy gulped, anxiously crinkling the chip bag he got from targay. “Y-yeah.”

Tubbo hummed. “I've never seen you interact with her much. When… did that start?”

Tommy's mind buzzed, and he resisted crushing the food in his hands, reclining heavily against the backrest of the bench. “I-I don't know, uh, recently? I guess? She's just… nice. She uh…. Has pretty hair? And she gave me a flower once! That was just, swe- uh, poggers of her, so. Yeah. I just think… yeah.”

Tubbo nodded, head tilting. “Do you think she likes you back?”

Tommy's eyes widened, and he didn't know why he laughed, but he did, and when he responded, he himself was taken aback by the hiss accompanying the words. “No!! She- why would- no- no, I mean… m-ma- I don't know??”

Ranboo swung his tail. “She better not. I mean, how old is she?”

“What does that matter?”

Ranboo stared. “You’re a child. Technically.”

Tommy bristled. “Fuck you, I am a big man! I'll kill you!”

The conversation moved on after that, and Tommy, somewhere along the way, quickly got lost. Head filled with cotton, electricity running through his veins, feeling horribly, oddly, humiliated and strangely… dissatisfied.

They didn't care. And he just felt more confused than ever.

…Why did he even do that?

 

***

 

Tommy was walking, grass up to his knees, a lead in hand. When he reached the village, he tied it to a fence, patting his borrowed horse before placing feet on the path, comforted by the gravel crunching beneath his feet, the feel of the sun on his neck. He looked around, at the wooden houses and half stacked stalls and idle chatter. He looked around and he thought.

He thought back to older days. This was… strangely nostalgic. Walking alone, in an unfamiliar town, the vastness of the world enveloping him in it's many potentials. He still wasn't sure when he felt better. Running around on the streets, just trying to survive, noone by his side, weak but naïve, hopeful. Or now, with some people to care for and trust, a place to return to, enough food in his pack, but shouldered with the weight of a dozen betrayals, life slipping past him three times too many. In a sense, he was still just trying to survive. Everything was so different now, yet the same.

He supposes, one thing that remained, was the sense of loneliness.

He grasped the front of his shirt, taking in the beating of his heart, looking at the strangers mingling amongst themselves. At the pairs, at the couples, at the families, sharing laughs and smiles, a contrast to the furrowed brows or tired amusement of shopkeepers and the idle folk visiting them.

He had always wanted a family.

…there was one way to get a family.

Someone to share laughs with. Someone who would comfort you. Someone who would take your hand, or hold you through the night, and never even leave. Someone who promises to stay.

It was a nice thought.

So why was it so hard to conceptualize? To imagine, to picture someone actually coherent, to look at a person and go – yes. I want to be your partner.

...eugh. just that sentence made his whole nervous system do a double take.

But why? Why? Was it the betrayals? Was it some fucked up self conscious mind shit? Was that it? Was he just fucked up in the head? Maybe.

Maybe.

But as it is, he knew he liked girls. He did. He liked them. They were… they were nice. Like Niki, who smelled of baked goods, and had a soft smile, and who had once given him a hug when she found him crying during the revolution, and who looked very nice in dresses. Or Puffy, who had made him a pickaxe when he asked for one, and who opposed Jack in stealing his hotel, and who offered him therapy, and she had really cool horn rings. Or Hannah, with her red flowers, and pretty builds, and the way the nature seemed just a bit more lively with her around, and her laugh was bright with mischievous intent that he could empathize with. They… they were nice. Yeah. Most girls were so nice.

So why… why hadn't he found one that he could. Actually picture doing… anything. In his head. No kissing, no dates, none of that… shmuck. It was just… he could see many girls his age running around, just now, in front of his eyes, many running through his mind as he searched his memories. None of them… no. And he tried thinking of boys, but that didn't… no. Not that either. …Enbies?

No… no, nothing… nothing felt. Good. None of it felt good, he just felt sick, he just felt weird, he didn't even feel dirty per se, but more like he was charting into foreign grounds, into something alien, and none of the thoughts he forced to visualize behind his eyelids, fleeting from how quickly he shut them out, felt like him. It didn't feel like him.

His fingers trembled, his chest felt tight, throat choked, and his head, on his shoulders, heavy and woozy and oh so muddled. He felt his heart race. Was… was that it? Maybe that was a sign. People said heart racing was a sign of attraction. Was there anyone in particular who did that? Maybe he was wrong – he was not lacking or messed up or broken, he just had buried the feelings so deep below his ribs, underneath fabricated doubts and trauma and the disconnect he had with reality and relationships in general, and once he got over those barriers, and just found someone, he would experience that joy that everyone spoke about. That closeness. He just had to… allow himself to get closer. To know more people, know them better.

That was… that was probably it.

But no matter. He raised his eyes, his senses coming back to him like the wind blowing his hair out of his eyes, blinking at the noise around him.

After all, he still came here for a reason.

 

***

 

“Yeah, I like these ones the best,” Tubbo said as he handed Tommy the various colored discs. Tommy nodded, smiling as he sorted through them, writing down the names in his notepad, feeling little stones dig into his elbows. Tubbo joined him fully on the ground, laying down next to him. “What do you need these for, anyways?” he blinked, and there was a smirk growing on his face. “Are they for… someone?”

Tommy furrowed his brows, staring at the other. “What?”

Tubbo chuckled nervously, waving his hand around as he stumbled over his words. “You- you know. Like a gift? Are you going to… to try to, get someone?”

Tommy’s stare just became sharper, becoming even more confused. “What??” What the fuck was he talking about?

“You know, like a- a date?” Tommy blanked. “Cause- you know, you've been talking about girls a lot lately, and I just thought-"

“No.” Tommy interrupted, feeling numb. “No, it's not for a fucking girl.”

“Oh.” Tubbo laid on the grass, clearly uncomfortable. He began to tear up the leaf he had picked up. “Sorry, I just thought- I'm not really good at this whole thing… sorry for assuming. W- …what is the reason, then?”

Tommy sighed, thankful for the topic change. “It's for… you know how I’m going to therapy?”

Tubbo hummed in affirmation.

“Puffy suggested that, since I like music, I should like, indulge in that, use it to calm myself or give myself something to do, that junk. So I’ve just been. Collecting, I guess.” He looked over the list again, then closed the notepad and sat up, discs in hand. “I wanna build a place where I just keep all the records, maybe I’ll even sell the ones I don't like. Good business practice, you know?”

Tubbo brightened. “Oh! That sounds really cool! If you need help with the building part, I can help you, by the way!”

Tommy looked at Tubbo's grin, so sweet and infectious, and his heart thawed, thinking of working with Tubbo again, building towards something together. It was a nice thought. “Alright.”

It would be nice to be with Tubbo again.

 

***

 

Tommy felt miserable.

This… this was miserable. He didn't know why. It really shouldn't be – it was just music. He was just sorting through all of his music, picking ones he liked, picking ones to comfort him, he loved music, it was fine, it just…

Why did so many of the songs have to be about love.

It made him feel angry and hurt and alone in a particular way that was so familiar and yet so utterly different. Because when he felt alone before, he fought with himself the same, he sunk into the thoughts of being unlovable or broken or undeserving of company, but at least he could understand it. At least he could look back now and think “Dream was a bitch" and that would be some solace. At least he could have hope that even if he was unlovable, he could still love. Love others. Try to seek others. Even if he never got that back.

But now, hearing all the poetics and sweet confessions that were in such abundance, something that sounded so passionate and revered, so integral, it was like looking into another reality he didn't, couldn't, understand, and suddenly, he felt more alien than ever before.

And most importantly, how fucking stupid that was, that the thing that made him feel that way was love.

Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.

Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

He couldn't doubt anymore.

God….

He laid on the ground, head to the cold floor, the record still spinning. The noise bounced off the dark wooden walls and into his skull, grating and aching. He covered his ears, messed up his hair, breathed in and out. In and out. What was wrong. What was wrong.

The record fell to silence. Then it started back again, as it automatically swapped out. Next.

His fingers felt restless, his whole body did. He tapped his skull, feeling the thumps echo. Breathe in, and breathe out. Breathe-

“-ow will I ever know you enough to love you, if you're hiding who you are?

Don't ask me to explain-"

He startled, his breath catching. This disc was scratchier than the others. It felt different. Something in him drew in the lyrics, head loud. He blinked.

…He's not hiding. Is he? Hiding what? He’s- no. Just- Breathe in-

“-Who are you hiding from, across the table with a penny in each eye?

Don't ask me to explain, don’t ask me to explain-"

His breath escaped, arms trembling as his body froze. He didn't understand. He couldn't explain. He wanted to cry. Something was unravelling.

“I'd like to marry all of my close friends, and live in a big house together by an angry sea,”

He sobbed.

He did, he thought, with surprise, as the tears fell.

“Am I the devil's marbles don't move on without me,

Who will be watching my body when I sleep?

Who will I believe in?”

Something… yeah.

Something happened.

Because suddenly, all that stress, all that confusion, all that loathing, was detangling, and the tears ran deep, ran painful, silent, wheezing screams escaping as the sobs continued. He couldn't breathe. His chest was tight. His head swam, and he felt oh so light headed. Light. He felt light. Happy. He felt alive.

He felt understood.

He- he wanted that! He could- he wanted to live with his friends, with Tubbo with Ranboo. He wanted to stay as friends. He wanted them to protect him, to be able to trust them, to be able to protect them in turn, he wanted to reside with them, he wanted to sleep amongst them, to have them watch over him, safe, he wanted to wake up in the morning and see the sun rise with then, he wanted to have casual dinner with them, he wanted to grow old together with them. As friends. As friends.

Friends.

What a lovely thing…

He could… he could live with his friends…

He could build a family with his friends.

And he didn't even care at that moment that he didn't know how Tubbo and Ranboo would feel about that. He didn't care whether they'd want him at their house, whether they'd want him around at all. He didn't even care, at that moment, if he couldn’t join them.

Because he realized that it was a possibility at all. Just the prospect, just the thought, the realization, that spending your life, being intimate, finding a stable ground, with your friends, not romantic partner, was possible, that it was possible to not be able to feel otherwise, that it was shared by other people, who wrote this song, who sung it, who had thought about it…

It meant he couldn't be that alone after all.

“It's so easy to lie to myself,

And pretend that I could love you, but I can't"

And oh so comforting it was, that he couldn't.

 

***

 

“Ey, Ranboo! Bitchboy!”

Ranboo suppressed a smile, an exasperated sigh hissing through his teeth. Tail swishing, he glanced to the other boy, who was down below, standing in the snow.

“C'mere!! I gotta give you something.” He yelled.

Ranboo raised a brow, but complied, closing the window he had been looking out of. After making a quick detour to check on Michael, he made his way down the stairs and stepped out of the doorway and into the light. Tommy bounded to him, big grin on his face. He seemed jumpier than usual. Ranboo smiled in turn. “what is it?”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it, instead going to rummage through his bag. What he took out was a… box? “Here, fuckboy.”

Ranboo winced, taking the container. “Don't call me that.”

“Why, what does it mean?”

Ranboo stared. “Just…. Don't.”

Tommy blinked, laughing nervously. “o-okay.”

Moving on, Ranboo inspected the item in his hands. It was medium sized, and made of simple, but elegant, smooth black wood. On the top, there was a leather sign embedded in it, with the word Beloved stitched into it. His ears flickered. This seemed… awfully nice. “What’s in it?”

Tommy scoffed. “Just open it, you twat.”

Ranboo, with a glance, could see the anxious way Tommy was holding himself, seeming impatient and uncomfortable. So he wasted no more time, and clicked open the surprisingly sturdy iron latch after a moment of struggling, and what awaited him inside was…

“…Discs…?”

Ranboo held his breath, fingers twitching as he held the gift. …was it a gift?

Tommy was staring at the ground. “Yeah. You know, I’ve just been traveling around, collecting, and I wanted to…” He seemed to shake himself lightly, hands wringing. “I wanted to give you some, I guess. That… yeah. These are yours.”

Ranboo was stiff, still perceiving the actual gift in his hands, that looked hand made, that was hand picked, that Tommy had worked to attain, just to give to him. His tail curled, and he carefully, delicately closed it's lid and hugged it close to his chest. “I… Thank you. Thank- O-oh wow…”

Tommy scowled. “You look like a fish. It's not a big deal. Just… take a listen sometime, won't ya?”

“Y-yeah!” Ranboo reverently nodded, cursing the way his eyes felt misty. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll definitely listen, and cherish it. Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy curtly nodded. “Alright. Pog.” And then, he was turning around, walking away with a quick “Share it with your family, too, some day. Bye.” Thrown or his shoulder.

And then, he was gone.

 

***

Tubbo heard music down the hall.

Ears tilting towards the pleasant sound, he skipped with bare feet over to the source, evening light casting warm glow through the windows as he went. When he arrived, to what was Michael's bedroom, he found Ranboo on the couch, curled gently over their son, head resting on his little head as he seemed to just… listen, wistful. Michael was listening too, letting out a little yawn as he turned his head to snuggle even deeper into his parent's warm embrace. Tubbo smiled softly at the scene.

Quietly, he patted over to them both, Ranboo eventually noticing him and watching him as he did. Tubbo buried a hand in Ranboo's hair, and the other leaned in. “What are you listening to?”

Ranboo didn't rush to explain, letting the comforting silence fill the space. When he spoke, it reminded Tubbo of soft flower petals and honey. “I didn't know Tommy's music taste was so…”

Tubbo blinked, turning to the disc lazily turning on the jukebox near them.

“-But in the end, I don't really care what you think,

Cause the bottom line is you make me happier than I’ve ever been...”

“wholesome.” He chuckled, fondly.

Tubbo hummed, unsurprised. “Tommy gave you these?”

Ranboo leaned more heavily in the couch. “Yeah. I don't know why, but…”

Tubbo's smile only deepened as he thought. Slowly, he replied, “I think he just wanted to show you he cared.”

Ranboo seemed to lose his breath a little, looking up at the other. “You think so…?”

Tubbo carded his fingers through Ranboo's hair, looking past Ranboo's twitching ears. “Tommy doesn't do things like these without reason. If he gave you something, it’s safe to say you mean a lot to him. He doesn't like to show it, usually, but… that I know.”

Ranboo stared at the turning of the discs, breathing softly. His tail curled around Michael. “Oh.”

Tubbo sat down at his feet and joined in.

Hearts warm, they laid there and listened until the sun had cast it's last rays and the jukebox no longer had a melody to spin.

 

***

 

Tommy sat behind the counter, feet on the counter, just trying to eat his discount chips while some people were being dumb children.

“Stop throwing the fucking food! I'll have to clean this up later!” He whined, to which Tubbo and Ranboo just threw him a glance, Tubbo’s apathetic and Ranboo's at least vaguely guilty, before Tubbo went right back and threw another gummy worm Ranboo's way.

Tommy scowled. “Seriously. At least pick them up and eat them.”

Ranboo made a face of disgust. “I'm not gonna eat candy off the floor, Tommy.”

“Yeah, some of us don't eat mud, Tommy.” Tubbo added.

“There’s no fucking mud here! It's a clean floor! You can totally pick them up and eat them, what the fuck!”

Tubbo raised his brows, staring. “Okay, then go and eat them, trash boy.”

“Okay, that's it.” Tommy raised to his feet, left his chip bag on the table and ran to Tubbo. Tubbo squawked, crawling onto the armchair he was reclining in to curl into a ball around his bag, but Tommy just threw himself onto the armchair with him, trying to reach for the candy. Which, considering the position, it was more like he was half-tickling, half hugging the other more than anything. “Give me that.”

Tubbo just burst out laughing, trying to hide deeper into the couch, attempting to kick the other away. “St-Stoppp!”

“C'mon, you disobeyed my shop's rules, I’m just confiscati-"

Something hit his head. Tommy stilled.

Ranboo peeked from behind his own candy bag, before digging into it again.

Tommy laid off of Tubbo slightly, raising like a puffed up cat. “Ranboo, you fuck!”

Tubbo laughed again, and Tommy was about to go on a murder spree, only for all the commotion to halt when they heard a sudden 4th voice.

Michael.

“Oh shit.”

Ranboo sighed. “He's awake. C'mon.”

Tubbo sighed as well, rolling out of the couch and dragging his feet towards the source of the oinks. “For the record, this is not my fault.”

Both of the other boys gave him the stink eye, but in the name of preserving needed ceasefire they held their tongues.

Michael was sitting up in Tommy's bed that resided in the backrooms, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and hiccuping. Tubbo reached for him, lifting him up. “Aww, did we wake you up? I'm sorry, little bossman.”

Michael clutched Tubbo's shirt, muttering something in piglin.

“He's asking what all that noise was.” Tommy quickly translated, before turning his eyes back to the kid and saying something soft in piglin back. Michael listened, seeming to quiet a little.

Ranboo, gathering that it was an affirmation, smiled and took one of Michael's hooves gently. “Yeah, we were just having fun. Do you want to have fun, too, Michael?”

Michael’s big eyes widened, and he wiggled in Tubbo's grip. “Ye! Ye!”

They chuckled, and Tubbo transferred his hold of Michael to Ranboo, who led the way in making it back to the front of the shop, chatting with his son all the while.

Tommy bumped his shoulder with Tubbo's as they walked, but didn't say anything further. Tubbo bit back a grin.

The next hour was spent feeding Michael and letting him listen to some new discs. Tommy even remembered he had some records that were in piglin, some songs, some stories, and put them on, which seemed to enrapture Michael quite a bit, immersed in the new voices and tales and familiarity. The three boys let him sit in Ranboo's lap and get lost in his own world, residing on a couch together and quietly chatting, around them comfortingly dark walls, bookshelves and the smell of wood and candles.

Eventually, the conversation steered.

“You know, Tommy, why don't you join us?”

…huh?

Tommy blinked, willing his breathing to restart and for the words to come. “W-what?”

Tubbo looked at him with warm eyes and a trepidant smile. “Like, how would you feel about coming to Snowchester? Live with us?”

Ranboo waved his hand. “Of course, you don't have to! But we just thought, you know, if you'd like a bit more, uh, company…”

“We want to be with you, is all.” Tubbo added quietly.

Tommy's heart raced, and he only blinked more, hands clutching the fabric of his pants. “B- be with me… are you…” he gulped down the butterflies clogging down his windpipes, still trying to understand that this is real. “are you sure…?”

Ranboo grinned, patting Michael's head idly. The piglin looked up at them. “Yeah! You're family, Tommy, after all.”

Tubbo tilted his head. As Tommy was still struggling to respond, he assured, “You don't have to if you don't want to, big man. No pressure.”

Tommy laughed, weak and breathless, but bright. “No, I-I’d- I'd really want that, but…” he gestured, trying to put his worries to sudden coherent sentences. “wouldn't that be… awkward? Like… you two, just, l-lovebirds," he chuckled clumsily, “and then there's… me, just, there?”

Tubbo shared a look with Ranboo, then turned back and laughed. “You won't be a third wheel, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, it's not like we’re really romantic partners, even, it'll be fine.” Ranboo said.

Tommy stilled.

Blinked.

“Uhw- what?”

The other two tensed, Tubbo quickly glancing at his husband before grimacing, thinking deep on how to explain it. “You know, we… we're not really… romantic? We just decided to marry? But we're… not platonic either, it's…”

“I-It's something inbetween. Queerplatonic is the word? I think?”

“It's hard to explain-"

“There's- there's a word for that? And you were- Like. Friends? Living together, this whole time??” Tommy reeled, head in hand.

“Well, not exactly friends, or at least, with how we decide to label our relationship, but… yes?”

“Oh my-" Tommy slumped forwards, now both of his hands holding his head upright, just. Breathing. “Shit. What the fuck. I…” he laughed, wrecked.

Tubbo and Ranboo stared at him, uncomfortable. Tubbo frowned. “Look, if you… if you're gonna say something, I’d rather-"

“No- nono, it's…” he raised his eyes, slowly, like coming out of a cave and into the light. His words tripped upon his tongue, but he was so eager to know. “So you two don't want… romantic partners?”

They blinked. “Not… particularly, no.” Ranboo replied. “…are you okay?”

Tommy laughed. It sounded stilted even to his ears, senses muddled as he was wrapped up in his own head, his own elated feelings, his heart nearly bursting at the seams. “I-I’m not alone.”

Tubbo stared, but then his eyes softened. He sighed, and his smile was immensely gentle, while looking at his friend. “Oh, Tommy…” Ranboo, beside him, wilted the same.

Michael, inbetween them, looked at all three of them silently.

“…Do you want a hug?” Tubbo quietly offered.

Tommy quickly nodded, slumping into Tubbo's side and burying his face in Tubbo's soft hair, not even caring for the way one of his horns poked into his cheek slightly. He held the other, and Tubbo held him. He felt the end of Ranboo's tail drape over his leg.

With a delicate tone and worn vocal chords, he quietly, and simply, admitted. “I'd love that. I'd really love that. Living with you three.”

Tubbo tightened his hold.

That night, Tommy fell asleep not alone, but with his two other closest people, his family. Safe, warm, with that insistent nagging at the back of his chest cavity, that told him he was alone, that he was wrong about himself, that he never even knew himself at all, finally silenced.

He had never felt more at home.

#dream smp #tommyinnit #fanfiction #aromantic #aro headcanons #tubbo #ranboo #clingy duo #bee duo #bench trio #allium duo #michael the zombie piglin #my writing #aspec #my own post #this is a whole chunk of projection here oh boy #it's..... yeah it's literally just projection #but it has been. nice. to kinda write it all out.... :') #oh! btw the songs that i included snipets of lyrics from are #don't ask me to explain by of montreal #and #it's all good by cavetown #so yeah #hope this is uh. satisfactory! pogs #please reblog i am starved

[deniigi]

sorry to bother again but i am a freshman in college and i am v stressed

how did you get through it and how do I make myself not want to drop every single class i’m in every semester

how does one take more than 5 classes at a time

i am in midterm hell and i am Scared™️

oh you mean, ‘Matt, please do your actual literal job on main?’ Because this is sort of my actual literal job, friend. So don’t worry. I’ve got you.

So first thing’s first, when planning future semesters:

I would recommend against taking more than 5 classes at a time. Mathematically, it is not great for you. If you have to take more than 5, plan on doing 1-2 to during summer school. You won’t be behind. You’re fine. I swear.

Example for future class planning: For every class, look at the number of units/credits it is. That is around the number of hours that you’re gonna spend in that class a week. Now multiply that by 2. That’s about the number of hours total you’re gonna spend on that class in a week (both in class and doing homework).

That means that a 3 unit/credit class = 6 hours of work per week.

You have five of those classes. That means that you’re doing around 30hrs of school work a week. If you have six of those classes, you’re practically working a fulltime job with little to no pay and benefits.

End story: Do not take more than 5 classes a semester if you can help it.

If you can, don’t take more than 4 classes in your major per semester, either. You will die. Use electives and general education classes as your fourth or fifth class to lighten your load and give yourself something that you enjoy and know you can pass for sure. That will give you some breathing room and will help you maintain your GPA.

Coping with Overload now:

At this point in the semester, it’s a little late to be dropping classes, so what you’re going to do instead is to schedule the fuck out of your time.

You need to pick and stick to set dates/times for completing coursework and midterm projects for the next week or two. People do this in different ways, but generally speaking, people will assign projects/homework to certain days.

Example: Monday is Chemistry homework night because assignments are due on Wednesday. You only work on Chemistry on Monday. You finish the assignment and turn it in.

Tuesday is English homework day because assignments are papers and take 3 days to complete due to requiring 3 different steps: research, outlining, and writing. You do the whole researching process on Tuesday and do a basic outline. You will fill out the outline a little more on Wednesday and will then write the whole paper on Thursday so that you can turn it in then, before the Friday deadline.

On Wednesday, after you’re satisfied with your English outline, you will set that aside because Wednesdays are Math days. You will do the Math homework and/or study for 2-3 hours until your brain feels like soup. Then you will stop, do something relaxing for 30min, and then decide if you need to do more studying. If you do, repeat the study + self-care process. Go to sleep at a reasonable hour (before 2am if possible)

Do the same thing for your other 2 classes, assigning each a day and a specific task or set of tasks to complete on each day. Don’t give yourself more than 3 tasks per class/study session, because that’s how you get overwhelmed and into an anxiety spiral.

Apply self-care (breaks, snacks, drinks, music) liberally while doing assignments.

Other tips: figure out how you study.

If you study best in a group, grab some folks from your class and form a study group. If you are in STEM especially, it is expected that you will form study groups. This is how studying happens in STEM, medical, and law fields. It is nigh impossible to do all that labor on your own. Yes, I am serious. Make a study group, even if that’s you and 1 other person.

If you can find a study guide, take it to study group or block out an hour or two and do the whole thing. If you don’t have a study guide, make one yourself out of your homework/assignments and test yourself with flashcards or writing out definitions and forcing yourself to explain the different parts of cycles you learned in class.

If you are in a humanities/liberal arts major, you need to figure out if you study best by reviewing your notes, by re-listening to the lectures, by explaining concepts to others, or by writing it all out as if it was an essay.

If you need to write an essay and are stuck with where to start, reach out for help from a tutor if your school has one, or just start by doing 15 minutes of brainstorming to figure out what you feel about the topic and what evidence/ideas would work to answer it. Pick apart the prompt to see what it is truly asking you to do, write out the components of the prompt separately on a separate page and start answering those question as if they were short answers.

Then when you’ve got that, you can start noting bits of evidence to add to support your points and BAM, just like that, you’ve got an outline. Write a thesis statement at the top that addresses the Who, What, Why and How You’re Going to Prove it of your essay and you’re ready to go.

Example thesis statement: “The world represented in Oh God, How do I Study by Matt Deniigiq includes references to time management, course planning, and big-picture thinking to emphasize the broader theme that this one shit semester is not going to destroy student’s lives. This is evident in the droll humor used throughout the piece and the fact that the author keeps halting in paragraphs to answer emails from frazzled students.”

**yes, your thesis can be 2 sentences long. It’s allowed, I promise.

Know that these 5 classes will not end your life.

Honestly, like, speaking as someone who does this for a living, at public schools anything higher than a C is grand. It’s not usually required for you to list your GPA on job apps later on (I’ve never been asked). No one actually cares about your GPA in social situations.

As long as my students have higher than Cs in their classes and they aren’t like, nursing students, I’m cool with their progress, so give yourself a break if you can.

Also know that getting a low grade in 1 class as a freshmen doesn’t actually fuck up your GPA as bad as you think it will. Like, there’s a lot of complicated shit around this that I could go into, but generally speaking, if you fail one class (and I mean FAIL-fail it. Fs and D-s. None of this ‘UwU I got a C so I failed’), then by the time you’re a junior or a senior, if you haven’t failed additional shit, that F/D- is barely going to shift your GPA.

Like, we’re talking .1 shifts around then. Maybe a .3 shift if you’re at the end of your sophomore year. That’s the diff between a 2.5 and a 2.4. Or a 3.3 and a 3.0. You can make that up almost entirely by taking another round of classes and getting As and Bs (again, the mechanics are complicated, so you’re just gonna have to take my word here).

So yeah, shoot for Cs or higher and know that these classes aren’t the end-all be-alls of your lives.

(For context, if I get a student with a 3.0 or higher, I’m fucking ELATED. I’m not even joking. Y’all will be fine.) 

--

Start with these tips and get back to me if you want something more specific. I do this all day, every day.

#study skills #long post #I am literally answering 10+ email long chains right now of students asking similar questions

[astrochemstry]

Sincerely three as best friends

Bcs i wished they became best friends and nothing bad in the musical happened :’)) also bcs DEH brain rot ghsahg im srry Connor seems so ooc here I don't know how to write him help

oK so they Evan and Connor met bcs of Jared since i said so jk but like

Lets just say Connor was a scout as a kid, his mom let him be a scout since she hoped it would- maybe, help control the anger issues and such

So ofc Jared is a scout too bcs its Jared

And they met and got grouped together

So uhh Jared and Connor didnt really like each other at first

I mean Jared was scared of him so he stayed away

Correction, tried to

But they always get grouped together

And bcs its Jared he can say some pretty hurtful things

“Oh come on those twigs arent even tied tight enough, did you even pay attention??”

“Thats big talk for a guy that’s just standing there”

I think Jared almost pissed himself bcs of how aggressive that sounded but lets not talk about that

For now

Anyways

Skip to whatever highschool or senior highschool i don't know how schools work im sorry

So Evan and Jared are walkin around the hall

Lets say theyre talkin abt whatever and then bAM

“Yeah this girl really likes me and- oh my fucking god”

Evan is confused bcs what ????

Then he looks at where hes looking and

coNNor mURPHy FOLKS CLAP YOUR HANDS

“Uhh i think i forgot to- uh forgot to go and get a hallway pass and uh and ill just go” Jared gets all nervous and now understands how Evan feels

“Holy shit Evan is this how you feel with Zoe? All sweaty and wet-” “just- just shut up. shut up.”

Theyre both cowards so they try to run away but then boom Connor Murphy is right in front of them

Jared almost pissing himself #2

“Evan Hansen, right?” “Oh-  ah, me? Oh yes thats right thats me, Evan. Hansen Evan, Evan Hansen.” *insert Jared taking off his glasses, cleaning it and putting it back on- proceeds to squint his eyes at Evan*

“Nobody signed your cast.” “No shit Sherlock.” *Insert Evan nudging Jared and glaring at him and Jared thinking he fucked up*

But Connor doesnt give a fuck and only glares at him bcs hes more interested in the blondes- i mean cough bcs its Jared

Then swoOP he signs his cast, “There, now we can both pretend we have friends”

Jared coughing, “Ahem???” Evan raising an eyebrow, “I thought we’re just family friends?”

hey Evan got some sass too guys

Anyways bcs idk how they became friends bcs idk Jared tells Evan about how he met him at the scout camp and then for some reason Evan has this sudden burst of confidence where he decided to talk to Connor but fails miserably but Connor notices and then he talks to them and then what Evan says in For Forever turns true and-

Anyways

THEY BECOME BESTIES YAY

JARED PRANKS EVERYDAY

ok maybe not everyday but yk

Jared puts alarms for 3am and it starts again after every 5 minutes and the only way they can turn it off is to say “Jared Kleinman, the insanely cool Jared Kleinman”

Jared eating a bathbomb infront of Evan and Connor

Both very concerned  about it but Connor says, “thats fake isnt it? Its not an actual bathbomb. right?”

But Jared tells them yes but thats the prank

It is a bathbomb

Evan constantly talking about trees and taking them to the park he became vice park ranger or whatever u call it idk

Jared: “You worked here??”

Evan: “yup”

Jared: “and thats the tree you fell from?”

LETS PRETEND HE ACTUALLY FELL BCS ITS AN ACCIDENT AND I COUGHGJHFGJH

Connor: “thats high.”

Jared: “not as high as you, bestie”

And he means Connor’s height… and bcs he was high at that time

Also Jared calls them bestie to annoy them but now its like a thing for them three

Theyre not really annoyed they jsut like how it sounds so they do it too

Connor does it sometimes tho, he always calls them by their Last name

Instead of first names being the factor of being close friends, Connor calling you by your last name is basically him saying “youre not so bad” or youre a close friend to him

Jared: “Evan, Bestie, is it photosynthesis if i combine a photo of me with the dirt in my backyard?” 

Evan: “not really”

Connor: “Trying to grow taller, Kleinman?”

Connor is basically their go to person if they need a drive since Evan cant bcs of the cast but still cant afterwards since he hasn't gotten his drivers license yet and Jared almost drived into a shop and isn't allowed to drive for them

Hes also really good at finding places to make forts

And bcs of Jared’s and His scout knowledge they made one place in an orchard

Yk that orchard the Murphys love

Its closed but they sneak in lmao

Jared acts like he aint scared but bro is scared of getting caught

Connor also got them into books

Evan read the little prince and he cries over it everytime

Jared was like “ew books” but then Connor introduced ready player one to him

“Why do i have to read this? theres the movie??” “just shut up and read it bestie” and Jared loved it

Also they found out Jared is a secret theatre kid and got into it too

THEY LOVE HAMILTON

JARED CAN RAP GUNS AND SHIPS AND OFC, “and Peggy!”

Connor is pretty impressed and he complimented Jared on how its cool

Jared doesnt believe it and is still trying to find if hes lying

But really Connor isnt

Overall

I wish they became besties :’)

#help girl this is me trying to cope with life #dear Evan hansen headcanons #DEH headcanons #dear evan hansen hcs #deh headcanons #Jared Kleinman headcanons #Evan Hansen headcanons #Jared Kleinman hcs #Evan Hansen hcs #deh hcs #Connor Murphy headcanons #hcs #headcanons #fanfiction #Connor Murphy hcs

[permanentreverie]

how would you describe your mutuals?? im looking for more blogs to follow -- musicals, books, warm vibes, etc! :) you can do cym as a word, categories, general vibes, list of some mutuals, anything!! i love your blog and trust your judgement lol so id love to know who else you would recommend <333

of course! sorry it took so long for me to answer this (I'll be including the mutuals who post about those things you talked about)

@gallagherfionas - my FAVE person to talk about books with, her reading goal inspires me like she’s low key kinda cool xx

@lxncelot - the best vibes ever. literally olive is the best and her critical thinking skills, she's the best person to have a debate with to talk about the goodness and morality in a story with, she makes me feel like I am a ye old man puffing a pipe and every so often grunting in agreement over something profound. And have I mentioned her WRITING!?!? No words can do it justice. I drink it like honey and fine wine, sweet and intoxicating all at once

@katherinerose64 - omg ?? protect ?? I saw her and immediately adopted her as my little sister, katherine can do no wrong and WILL shower you with love and compliments no matter what. 10/10 a literal angel

@mel-street - also an amazing person to talk about books with! she was gracious enough to allow me to scream to her unprompted at 1 AM when i finished the folk of the air trilogy and honestly kudos to her for understanding which books made me go brrrrr

@asecretshekept - a goddess!? leah is just bright sunshine, a brilliant writer (go read her fics NOW!) and when she first reached out to me I nearly fainted like she's so cool

@izloveshorses - her ART!!! Iz literally has 3 braincells and her blog is just them bumping around. Her posts are the feeling of when that windows or DVD symbol hits the corner of a screen. She is my rival for screaming in the tags and is so darn PASSIONATE like she WILL match your energy of love for a thing!!

@johnskeating - she’s like Katherine but more grown up. She’s what I imagine a nymph would be like. Also her aesthetic is just !?!? Heavenly!? Like her blog is just GORGEOUS and I’m just here with heart eyes

@all-you-wanna-do-your-best - PURE. I love her your honour. She has the best musical content (and her sideblog @demigodgrace6 is super funky and amazing!!)

@amortensie - *john mulaney voice* I just think she’s NEAT. No but nixie is literally a dream her AESTHETIC and content make brain go brrrr

#I dearly hope anon sees this #thank you bc I have the best mutuals no question about it ♥️ #answered asks #anon asks

[2018shawn]

prosecco courage

warnings: unprotected sex bc they’ve had the discussion in my head prior to this night so if you haven’t wrap before you tap folks. smut obvs, swearing, light choking and a boy giving into a girls persistent ways

a/n: asbfjasds I feel like I'm so bad at smut I'm so sorry but nevertheless, here is 5k of it bc the live tonight finally got me to finish it. @shawnsmoose​ sent me an smol request about 20 years ago, so here it is n I'm sorry I don’t feel like I captured the choking very well sooooo big laughs 🥵👀 we’re here for a good time not a long time peace out x

Tom looked at the picture on his phone for probably the 176th time since you’d sent him it earlier this evening. Your phone was held in one of your hands, pointing towards the mirror to take the picture, a glass of prosecco in the other. Your body was covered in nothing but a matching, red lace underwear set, clinging to and showing off each asset of yours. He’d seen you in it once before and lost his shit back then and as it turns out – nothing has changed. Groaning and throwing his head back against his headboard, he tossed his phone aside, trying to get back to concentrating on writing the script in front of him. Deadlines were a bitch.

You, on the other hand, were in the corner of a club downtown, the red lace underwear covered by your sexiest black dress and topped off with patent, nude heels and matching bag. It was fun; the amount of alcohol you’d consumed soaking into your veins made it more fun that what you’d anticipated. You wanted nothing more than to go about your usual Saturday routine – face mask, bubble bath and your comfiest pyjamas. Or you most recent routine – face mask, bubble bath, your sexiest pyjamas and fucking the living daylights out of Tom.

The music was booming, the group of your girlfriends enjoying their time as they huddled around their booth, topping up their drinks from the ice-cold bucket in the middle of the table. You pulled your phone out your bag, feeling more annoyed as you clicked on your conversation with Tom seeing he hadn't sent anymore messages. After you’d sent the picture, he’d simply replied, be careful, let me know if you need picking up 💙

What a way to make you feel stupid, for not replying to the picture you’d sent to him. It had taken you almost half a bottle of prosecco before you’d even headed out the door to pluck up the courage to press send. It only spurred you on to drink more, to forget about embarrassing yourself to someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend yet. The more you drank, the more you thought he probably had girls throwing themselves at him; as much as he says he’s only seeing you, who’s to say he’s not the same as every other man you’ve dated?

It was getting to almost 1 o’clock, which you were proud of as a very rare clubber, but your drinking was slowing down, your stomach feeling full of fizz. Normally, you’d be straight on the phone to Tom, asking him to come get you but what was the point if he didn’t even want to see a picture of you. You gulped the rest of your drink in one go, picking up your bag and leather jacket – because London was cold in the winter – giving the girls the heads up you were leaving.

Several pleads to stay and hugs from your closest friends later, you were heading out of the packed club, heading to the taxi rank just metres away from the club entrance. Tom picked his phone up after another thirty minutes of working some more, his brain coming to a halt with words, only being able to think of you and that damn picture. He knew if he replied and gave you the response you wanted, you’d cancel your night out and turn up at his place, which he didn’t want you to do. He wanted you to go and have a good time, you needed it after how much you’d been working and grafting, so he’d finally persuaded you to go with them, telling you he’d be here plenty of other nights for you casual date night. He told himself he awake this late on a Saturday night, working, because he wanted to get the script finished. The reality was, he was awake this late on a Saturday because you still hadn’t replied and he needed to know you were okay. 

The taxi driver smiled at you as you sunk into the back seat of the black cab, “where to, miss?”-

A loud knock on Tom’s door at just gone 1:30am was the happy interruption he wanted for him to be able to close his finally close his laptop. He trudged to the door, wiping his eyes in an attempt to wipe away the heavy, sleepy feeling. He pulled off the chain, twisting the lock before tugging the door open, only hoping it was you the other side. And there you stood, your arms wrapped around your body to protect yourself from the cold and tom could understand why, the cold air hitting his bare top half, making him tense up. “Y/N?” He asked, blinking his eyes as if he was imagining.

“You’re an arse,” you spat, storming past him into the familiar warmth of his home. Despite your clear annoyance, he smiled at your presence, closing the door swiftly behind you to stop anymore heat from escaping.

“Excuse me?” He watched as you headed straight for the staircase, you high heels clicking over the hardwood floor before you kicked them off, tossing them to the side. Your hips swayed a little more than normal as you started your journey up his stairs, not caring that your dress rode up a little more than it had all evening. “And where are you going?”

“I need to pee,” you simply shouted, not bothering the turn around and look at him before disappearing out of his view.

He supposed he was meant to follow you, not very often dealing with the stubborn side of you thus far into your (not official) relationship. So he did just that. Locking up downstairs and switching all the lights off because he assumed you’d soon be crashed out on his bed, if the smell of alcohol as you drifted past him was anything to go by. The sound of the toilet flushing filled the empty silence before you reappeared, head leaning around his bedroom door to see where he was. On the bed, tom let his legs dangle of the foot of the bed, laying backwards with his arms flung across his face. You cleared you throat, and he removed his arms from over his eyes, sitting up and leaning on his forearms. The sweatpants that hung low on his hips, displaying the band of his boxers, were a total distraction from you being mad at him and he knew it.

“I’m an arse?” He asked, repeating your previous phrase with a hint of confusion in his tone.

You leaned against the door frame, still yet to enter his room as your arms crossed in front of you, body language telling him that you meant what you said, “Yeah.”

“And why is that?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as you put all your body weight onto one side, your other leg bending at the knee. His eyes couldn’t help but wander over your body and admire the way the dress clung to your frame so perfectly and normally, he’d be ripping it off you, but he wasn’t sure you wanted that from him right now.

“You ignored my picture.” Oh so this is what it’s about he thought to himself, a smirk subconsciously appearing on his lips. He got up from where he was sprawled on the bed and walked over to you, his hand snaking around your waist, all the time keeping the cocky smile on his lips. “Don’t smile, you jerk. I felt stupid! I felt… like you didn’t want the picture. Like I was just some other stupid girl that had fallen head over heels for you and was trying to woo you. It was humiliating…” you hiccupped, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, “… and now I’m really drunk because some guy bought everyone at the table drinks and I wasn’t gonna but I though hey, if Tom doesn’t want the attention then someone else sure as hell…” His lips crashed on to yours, stopping you before you let anything else leave you mouth. He hated to hear that he made you feel stupid. He hated even more that you felt like you needed to get the attention from another guy, but he couldn’t say too much because, technically, you weren’t officially his.

He pulled his lips away, licking off the taste of jägerbombs and vodka, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You know, I had to stop myself from looking at that picture and being a horny teenager all night. If I replied what I really want to reply, you wouldn’t have gone out and had a good time.”

“I need to sit down.” You demanded, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol that was making you dizzy or if it was just the way he just won you over every single time. He laughed softly, pulling your arm and sitting you on the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he told you before disappearing out of the room, returning minutes later with two bottles of water and some medicine in his hand, “take these.” He handed you two small pills, opening the bottle for you as you popped them into your mouth. He helped you in drinking some water, his spare hand resting under your chin and tilting it back as you let the ice-cold liquid wash down the medication.

For the first time of the evening, your lips curled up into a smile as a way of saying thank you as he put the bottles of water on the bedside table, your stubborn personality restricting you from saying it out loud. “He asked for my number...” you don’t know why you were saying it, because at the time you turned your back to the creepy stranger and pulled a sicky face, and you most definitely were not interested. The only thing you was interested in was getting some form of reaction from Tom. But it was as if you’d forgotten the words he’d spoken to you before you felt like you was about to throw up everywhere.

“Pardon?” You words stopped him dead in his tracks as he was about to walk past you, stopping striaght in front of you instead. He didn’t say it aggressively, he didn’t say it like he was annoyed, but you knew he was saying it just to make you repeat yourself for the sake of it.

“He... I’m...” suddenly you felt nervous and gulped as Tom hovered over you, looking down as you sat on the bed, staring into his torso because you were too scared to make eye contact. His body was insane, even more so when he’s stood directly in front of you and your eyes can’t even manage to look away. Each pair of abdominal muscles felt warm against your cold finger tips, the feeling of him tense underneath you sending a flush of heat to your core. His hand wrapped around your wrist, putting a pause on any gentle touches you were giving him. Your eyes finally pulled away from his chiseled feautures, slowly drifting up until they connected with his. “He asked for my number.”

“And what did you say, darling?” His voice was soft, again, not like he was annoyed. You kind of wanted him to be annoyed though, you wanted him to want you as much as you wanted him.

“I… I said I was seeing somebody else.” You couldn’t help but rebel against his grasp, wriggling your hand out of his firm grip and returning it to his lower stomach. Fingers traced the waistband of his sweats, and you thought the outline of his dick was more prominent that is was before. You wanted to show him that you wanted to be his because rejecting one other guy was just not enough.

“Love…” he started, grabbing your wrist again, “not whilst you’re this drunk.” You rolled your eyes and threw yourself back to the bed, landing with a thud against the feathery duvet. “I’m gonna get you some clothes.”

In all honesty, he couldn’t look at you for a minute longer because he wanted to rip the stupid, perfect dress off and have you underneath – or on top, whatever, he wasn’t fussy – him all night long. He knew he was bad with words; he knew he never let on his true feelings and that’s probably why he’s had so many failed attempts in the past. But you were different, he was closer to telling you how he felt more than he ever had been with anyone else. His shadow disappeared from over you, and you sat back up, watching the way his back tensed as he walked over to his wardrobe. Sifting through several drawers, he picked up a couple of options, assessing a few items to see if they were too big for you. He’d liked the fact you told the other guy you were seeing somebody. In fact, he loved it.

You sighed, wishing he’d put on a stupid top if he didn’t want you to pounce on him anytime soon. The black dress that covered your body, was being tugged over your head messily by your arms, almost getting yourself stuck in the mesh material. He still had his back to you as you threw it to the floor, smoothing your fingers over your body whilst assessing the presentation of that red lace underwear.

“You know, I really did have to stop myself, with that picture. You looked fucking incredible, Y/N.” He said the words whilst he had the courage to say them, usually defeated by his inside voice when it came to discussing how he felt. “I think I picked my phone up about…” He turned around, sweats and a t-shirt in his hands and his jaw clenched. His eyes widened at the sight before him; you lay on his bed, on your stomach, with your legs crossed in the air and head resting in the palm of your hands. You can imagine cringing at yourself in the morning, because being sexy didn’t come naturally to you.

“Babe, please don’t make this harder than it already is” he laughed, placing the comfy outfit on the corner of the bed.

“Make what harder?” You looked up innocently, through your fluttery lashes, putting on the most delicate voice you could muster. He admired your body, tanned and smooth. The freckles on your back he’d once spent all afternoon counting – around 57, if you’re wondering – were only partially covered by the strap of your bra, which stood out immensely against your skin. The matching bright red panties adorned your hips perfectly, sculpting around your curvy hips and peachy derriere.

“Come here, let’s get you dressed,” he held out his hand, which although you didn’t want to, you took, shuffling yourself up to sit on your knees at the end of the bed.

“But I don’t wannaaaaaaa” you whined, quivering your lower lip.

“But you gottaaaaaa” he mimicked you, sticking his tongue out. That damn tongue. Could be put to better use somewhere else, you thought, giggling to yourself like a little lovestruck teenager as he just shot you a look at you amusing yourself.

If god was real, he was stood in front of you, attempting to get you to bed.

When you reached over to the short pile of clothes he’d placed on the end of the bed for you and pushed them off the edge, so they landed in a pile on the floor, he rolled his eyes. “Oops.” You shrugged. Your fingers found the waistband of his sweats again and he was getting tired of fighting you off. It not that he didn’t want you, because he’d be crazy not to, but he just didn’t want to take advantage of your current tipsy state, he’d been brought up better than that. You pulled at his joggers, making him tumble forwards towards you, already cringing at your desperate and needy voice. “Why don’t you want me… Tommy?”

The nickname was all it took to leap on top of you, pinning you down. His hand held around your neck, holding your head still as you flopped back against the bed sheets yet again. If you’d have known, you’d have said it sooner. You couldn’t help but smirk, your constant nagging finally getting you somewhere. His other hand kept him from crushing your body, holding up his weight above you. His eyes were lustful, like he’d switched personalities in a matter of seconds.

“You don’t think I want you?” He asked, voice quiet but rough. His breath felt hot against your skin, and you wriggled underneath him for a brief moment, until he moved his hand from your neck and snaked it down your body, making sure to take his time until he got to your wetting centre. He cupped whatever of you he could, his warm hands meeting your warm core creating the most uncontrollable heat between you.

“No. I don’t.” you spoke, with a hint of bratiness portraying in your words even though you felt like melted butter beneath him. A quiet tut left his mouth and you think it was followed by a dark chuckle, but you couldn’t be sure because you’d zoned into a world of desperation. Your hips bucked up against his hand, only briefly getting more pressure from him.

“Fuck this,” he spat, crashing down onto your lips, his thumb tracing the outline of your swollen folds through the material of your damp panties. He didn’t want to give in, he thought he could be better than that, but you made it too damn impossible for him to going about a normal nightly routine without being so irresistible.

A whimper fell from your plump lips as he pulled away, instantly attaching to the skin on your neck where a faint red mark had formed from where he had grabbed you. He soothed the area with his lips, tongue lapping across the sensitive area. The strain against his sweatpants was getting intense, digging into the inner of your thighs the further down your body his lips travelled. You muttered a string of words, squirming beneath him.

His hand came from your aching middle, fiercely reaching up and cupping your breast like he was holding onto it for dear life. Beneath the lace covering, your nipple hardened as he caressed you through the fabric, teasing it in between his nimble fingers. He got off on seeing you pleased, he knew that, you knew that, hell, even Sandra next door fucking knew that. So when his lips didn’t stop at your stomach and continued further south, you knew you could count your blessings and say goodbye to your bratty attitude. With one hand, he tugged your underwear to the side, tracing your damp folds with his fingers. “Tom…” You breathed, desperate for his touch. He smirked, not that you could see, as his head bowed further into the valley of your legs.

Replacing where his fingers had been, his tongue followed suit of his digits, tracing your dripping folds and circling your throbbing clit. That was the first squeal of pleasure you let out, mouth dropping wide and hands coming up to his freshly shaved hair. You were annoyed he had to shave it off, wanting nothing more to run your fingers through his floppy brown hair and tug away at it. Grabbing the next best thing, your fingers bunched up as much of the duvet as they could grab as he continued to tease your entrance, the roughness of his buzzcut brushing against your inner thighs. Reapplying pressure from his fingers caused your second squeal, your chest showing your heavy breathing and back arching into him. He squeezed your breast intensely in an attempt to communicate with you whilst his mouth was busy elsewhere. If this is where being drunk got you, you thought you’d start drinking every day, because never before has he loved and performed with such hungry passion like this.

The sound of his lips working against your cunt was the only thing filling the room, other than the sounds of your whimpers and whines. The vibrations shuddered through your body as he hummed into you, his hand trying to reach further up and find a place back on your neck. He noted your heavier breathing and the way your legs wrapped around his shoulders, getting tighter by the second. He knew you well enough to know that he could make you cum, just from using his mouth, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to push you, like you had pushed him.

When he was unsuccessful in reaching to your collar, he pulled away from your ridiculously wet core, sucking on your clit and pulling away with a pop, regaining his breath and wiping his mouth on the sheets beneath him. “You really do want me, huh?” He smirked, crawling up until he was face to face with you, admiring your flushed and rosy cheeks. Your teeth captured your bottom lip, nodding silently to his question, feeling unsatisfied with the lack of touch. He sat up on his knees, in between your legs, and tugged at the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them down his legs, for what felt like the longest time, until his member popped free and you’re suddenly aware of how wet you are for him, feeling your panties stick to you.

“P-please, Tom” you breathe, hands releasing the ball of material in your hands and reaching up for him. He snaps your hands away, still annoyed by your persistent plan to get him to this point and he pushes them above your head, your arms stretched out as much as can be.

“Get up.” He demanded, moving back away from you to give you enough room to slide out. You remained stuck to the bed, however, confused by his sudden instructions. Was he kicking you out? Had you literally been that desperate he didn’t wanna do it?

“Huh?” You questioned as he shuffled back on his knees until his legs could slide off the foot of the bed, landing on the floor with his sweat’s puddled around his ankles.

“Get up.” He repeated, same tone but slightly higher volume. You sat up, wiggling your bum until your legs also fell over the edge of the bed. Your legs were wide, his body inbetween them as he traced his hand up your skin, starting at the valley of your breasts and finishing at your neck. His large hand cupped your jaw, and it the most delicately forceful way possible, he put pressure onto you, forcing your body to stand upright as you followed the direction of his touch. As soon as you were stood, legs threatening to buckle beneath you any minute, he once again soothed over the red mark around your jaw, relaxing his tongue against your skin.

Your arms bent around to your back, fingers clasping at the buckle of your bra, until he he caught you, pulling his head sharply away from your neck and capturing your wrists in his hands. “No,” he said, voice gentle this time, as if you were about to walk out the door and never come back.

“No?” You asked, relaxing your shoulder and letting your arms drop to your side.

“No.” He repeated, more definite with his tone of voice this time. “You wanted me to see this little ensemble...” His hands pointed over your body before they found your hips, twisting your body round 180° so you were facing the bed, your back facing his front. You got his gist, mentally cursing yourself as you was reminded of the picture. You were thankful for the alcohol, though. You wern’t sure you’d be so confident in it without the help of your little friend, prosecco.

You bent forewords, walking your hands across the bed until you were happy you were bent over far enough, your ass higher in the air than the rest of your body. Blonde curls slinked over your shoulder as you turned your head, and what you saw was nothing but a beautiful sight. 

Toms arm tensed as his hand wrapped around his hardened length, a groan of pleasure leaving his lips from the anticipated touch. He pumped himself a few times as he admired the way the lace decorated the curves of your ass; the Brazilian fitting showed off the creases of your hips and the soft natural stretch marks which he could spend hours kissing. His bottom lip was sucked in by his teeth and you reciprocated the action, staring up lustfully at him.

You wanted to beg. You wanted to push your ass back so you could feel his cock against you. But before you had time to decide if that was a wise idea, he took two small steps foreword, lining himself up with the centre of your body. You sucked in air, stomach knotting with butterflies as you waited for him where you most needed him. At tap from his hand on your ass jolted your body forwards, falling onto your forearms and chest flush against the bed.

You didn’t dare look back, not knowing how much more of him you could look at before you jumped ship and ended up getting yourself off. The feel of him pushing your pants to the side made you jump, a gasp escaping you as he ran his index finger up your folds, making sure you were wet enough. Satisfied with how he’d made you dripping with juices, he nudged the tip of his cock against you. Simultaneously, you both let out a moan, both needing it as much as each other. When he pushed into you, at the slowest pace possible to let you adjust around him, he gripped his right hand around your hip to hold you in place.

He began slow, grunting behind you each time you pushed back onto him. A string of unforgivable words left your mouth as you kept a straight posture, noting how the headboard smashed against the back wall as his thrusts grew deeper, the sound synchronised with the sound of his hips smashing against your ass. He released your hip, reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of your bouncy hair. Tugging your hair towards his body, you squealed as your head followed, back arching in the most flexible manner. Whilst keeping hold of your hair, he reached further round, grabbing the front of your neck to keep you from falling foreward to the bed.

The feeling of him clutching onto your neck sent your mind into overdrive although you struggled to spit out an approving moan, your throat being restricted by the pressure of his hand. Your legs began to quiver, bucking beneath you. Tom flipped you over in one swift movement, hand remaining on your neck the entire time as he thrusted back into you, hating the feeling of being out of you; even 2 seconds was too long. He held you there, by your throat, reminding himself that you were here, with him, and not that stupid guy at the club. He wanted you to know he was holding onto you because he never wanted you think about another guy again. He wanted you to know that he felt utterly awful for not making you feel as good as you should about that picture. He wanted you to know, that he wanted you. 

He felt himself getting close, more so now he was face to face with you, adoring how your mouth fell open, lustful eyes meeting his. When you bit your lip and giggled, he couldn’t understand how he was on top of, choking you and fucking you until you forgot about the sleazy guy at the bar, yet you could be the cutest human on the planet. He relaxed his hand, swiping his thumb over your lip in what you found to be more of a delicate moment compared to the ones he’d been showing you all night. His head bobbed down, lips hovering over yours as he spoke quietly. “I want you.” He breathed, tensing and twitching as you wrapped your legs around him, “so fucking much.”

His words were genuine, but you couldn’t understand. He had you. Underneath him. In his bedroom. At 2am on a Sunday morning. “You’ve got me.” You breathed, fingers playing with the hair -or lack of - at the nape of his neck as he rested his forehead on yours. He felt sticky, but you were sure that you did too. 

“All the time?” He asked with a quiver in his voice, but you put it down the the fact you were both on the edge of a climax. You just nodded, biting your lip to stifle a squeal at both your orgasm and excitement of his words. His hips didn’t stop or slow down like you expected them and you knew you were on the brink of finishing, fingers clutching and digging into his back at an attempt to hold on longer. 

“Tom... I- I’m-” You struggled to talk, cutting your sentence short and interrupting yourself with a scream, your eyes rolling back and squeezing shut. He breathed into the crook of your neck, a small mmhmm humming through hip lips in agreement. When his rhythm slowed as hips jolted fewer times, but with more deep and powerful thrusts, he nudged your spot, leaving you crumbling beneath him whilst a string of ohmygod’s and fuck-tom’s left you, your voice shaking in tune with your legs. 

Your hips jolted upwards as your came around from your climax, pushing into him as he experienced his own. His arm snaked round your back, pulling you into him as if you lifting up to meet his thrusts wasn’t enough, before he was moaning in your ear, sending shivers through your body like nothing you’ve ever known.

Neither of you knew how long you’d been there; him on top and still inside you and you catching your breath beneath him. But you both did know, is that you wanted to be there for forever more. It was maybe minutes until he rolled out of you, flopping back onto the bed with a satisfied groan. He still had an arm underneath you, and he tugged it, rolling you onto your side and further into his body. You aching centre felt sore, but very well loved and you couldn’t help but smile. “So... about that guy at the bar?”

“What about him?” Your eyebrows furrowed, not expecting that to be the first thing to come up after having mind blowing sex. 

“I’m gonna fuck him up for speaking to my girl.”

------

taglist: @imaginashawnns​ @fallinallincurls​

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader

[wishuhadstayed]

Yours

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 2.9k 😳

Summary: Aaron and reader get married 🥺 Part 6 to Begin Again

Warnings: None, although I did make myself cry on several occasions

Author’s Note: it’s wedding time, folks. A thought both @yes-sir-hotchner and I had. (We share the same brain cell 😂) Inspired by a post from the wonderful @agenthotchner.

Previous chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist

It had been just a few short months since Aaron’s surprise proposal, after which the two of you had made a mutual decision to get married as soon as possible. The team had been delighted by the news, Penelope immediately jumping into full maid of honor mode. Rossi, being the most caring and generous friend out there, had insisted on taking care of everything and wouldn’t take no for an answer; even going so far as to offer his house for the venue.

Sitting in a luxurious upstairs room of the Rossi home, and being doted upon by your friends, you couldn’t help but feel a little like a princess for the first time since you couldn’t remember when. The day was finally here that you officially got to spend forever with the man of your dreams. Even after all this time, sometimes it still felt too good to be true.

Gazing out an open window, you could see backyard where the ceremony was to be held in just a few short hours and your heart began to race. You were snapped back to the present moment by the sound of your best friend’s voice.

“Earth to Y/N! Come in, Y/N!” She said, waving her hands in front of your face.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted. What was the question?”

“Your lipstick hon, what color?”

“Whatever color you think is best, Penny. I trust you to make me look beautiful.”

“You always look beautiful,” chimes in a voice from across the room.

“Thank you, Emily.”

Penelope finished off your makeup with waterproof mascara and JJ stepped in to put the final touches on your hair with delicate pearl hairpins.

As the hours passed and the final preparations were made, you could feel the nerves building.

Penelope, Emily, and JJ all helped you into your dress; a beautiful white gown with off the shoulder lace sleeves, a fitted lace covered bodice, and lace trim around the bottom of the full skirt. You were truly a sight to behold. Buttoning up the back of the gown, JJ asks, “You’ve been pretty quiet, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

“It’s just nerves, I think.” you reply. “I’d really like to see Aaron.”

“See Aaron before the wedding?” Penelope interjects, “You can’t! It’s bad luck!”

You knew there was no arguing with her and your spirits sank a little, disappointment written all over your face.

“What if we got Jack instead?” Offers JJ. “Would that help?”

Thinking it over, you give a small smile and a nod. “Yes, I think I’d like that. Thank you, JJ.”

“I’ll call Morgan and have them come up.”

Five minutes later, a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” you say, opening it before anyone can protest.

There stands Derek Morgan with the boy you’ve come to love as your own.

“You look amazing,” says Morgan taking in the sight of you with wide eyes. “Hotch is a lucky man.”

“Thank you, Derek.” You reply, giving him a tight hug. Pulling back and taking him by the hand, you make a request. “Will you tell him that I love him, and that I’ll see him soon?”

“Anything for you, lovely,” he says with a playful grin.

“You’re a good friend, Derek.”

With that, he retreats back downstairs to deliver your message, leaving Jack with you. Just having him there was already soothing your frayed nerves. Ushering him inside you ask, “How’s my handsome ring bearer? You’re not nervous are you?”

“No! I’m gonna do a great job, I promise! You look real pretty, just like a princess.”

“You are so sweet, little man. I know you’ll do amazing.”

“Y/N?”

“What is it, Jack?” You inquire, kneeling down to his level.

“Can I call you mom now?”

The question took you quite by surprise, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah, if it’s okay with you. I miss having a mom.”

Those few words are enough to break the dam and tears began to stream as you pulled the boy in for a hug. “Of course it’s okay with me.” you manage to choke out.

“Mom! Mom!” Jack squeaks.

“Yeah buddy?”

“You’re squeezing me too hard, I can’t breathe.”

Loosening your grip, you apologize.

“Don’t cry, everything’s gonna be okay,” Jack says reassuringly. Man, he is so much like his father.

“I’m crying because I’m happy, Jack. I just love you and your dad so much.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

“I hate to break up this sweet family moment,” Penelope cuts in, “But it’s almost time to get this show on the road. Jack I’ll take you back down to your dad.” Handing you a tissue, she makes her exit.

Emily and JJ sweep the room making sure nothing is left behind. “We’ve got to go,” says JJ, grabbing Emily by the arm and making her way to the door. “You look perfect, Rossi should be up soon. Love you.”

Sitting down for a moment, you gently pat your eyes dry. At least your mascara held up. In the quiet it finally began to sink in how all your wildest dreams were coming to life right before you eyes.

When the door opened again, there was Dave. Handing over your bouquet of pink roses he asks, “You ready for this, kid?”

“Absolutely,” you reply with a childlike grin.

He offers his arm and you rest your hand in the crook of his elbow, infinitely grateful for the fatherly presence.

“Then let’s get this party started.”

As the two of you arrived downstairs at the back door, you hear the processional music already playing. Luckily you had made it just in time for Rossi to give Jack his official ring-bearing instructions.

“Alright Jack. You know what to do. Just walk straight down to the end and give the rings to Derek. Then you can sit down with your Aunt Jess, okay?”

“Got it,” says Jack, giving a thumbs up.

“Go get ‘em kid,” Rossi encourages, opening the door.

Now it’s just the two of you left indoors. Rossi watches until Jack finishes his assigned duty and makes his way back to you as the music changes.

“That’s our cue,” he states, once again offering his arm.

——————————————————————————

Aaron hadn’t been nervous at all until that moment. When the music changed and the guests stood in preparation for your entrance, his hands began to shake.

“You alright, man?” Morgan inquires.

“Yeah, I’m just ready to have Y/N by my side.”

Just as he turned back from the short conversation, the double doors swung open and you made your entrance.

With the first glimpse of your radiant smile, he was immediately overwhelmed with emotion and moved to tears. Only somewhat managing to regain his composure, he took in every detail as you approached. The delicate lace of your gown, the afternoon sun making a halo of light on his own personal angel. A bouquet of perfect pink roses, just like the ones he had given you after your rudely interrupted second date. Time seemed to slow down, the walk that was in reality only a couple of minutes stretched into ages as he longed to have you near.

Then when your eyes finally met his with a look of pure love, all was right with the world.

At the end of the aisle, Rossi turns to you with one simple request.

“Take good care of our man.”

“I will,” you promise, giving the older man a kiss on the cheek before joining Aaron at the altar. Producing a handkerchief, you gently dried the remaining tears from his ever handsome face.

“Hey You,” he intones softly, hand grazing the side of your face. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The rest of the world seems to fade away as the minister begins the service and the two of you are lost in each other’s eyes.

“The couple have chosen to write their own vows,” the minister states, snapping you both back to attention. “Y/N?”

Softly clearing your throat and looking deep into Aaron’s warm brown eyes, you begin.

“Aaron, If someone had told me over a year ago that I would be marrying a man that I met on a blind date set up by my best friend, I would have said that they were crazy. I had all but given up on finding true love. I went anyway. And everyday since, I thank God that I did. If it hadn’t been for that blind date, I would have never met the love of my life. I would have never met the most amazing group of friends that turned into family, who are standing by our sides even now. I would have never gained the most wonderful, loving little boy who I now get the privilege of calling my son. I promise that I will love both of you always. I promise that I will always be there, no matter how difficult the road becomes. And if you must venture into the darkness, I promise to always bring you back to the light”

Sniffling back tears, and taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Aaron speaks.

“Y/N, the long road that led me to you was full of heartache. When I met you, all of that changed for the better. Everyone says that I’m lucky to have you, but to be honest, I don’t feel lucky. I feel blessed. Every day with you is a blessing and a gift. There’s not a day that I’m not thankful for every pain and every heartache that I’ve been through, because without that journey, I would never have made it here to you. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I fall a little more in love with you every day. When I’m finished with a long case, your arms feel like home. You’re the comfort for my weary soul when the world gets rough. I promise to spend the rest of my days loving you and hoping that it amounts to even a fraction of what you’ve shown to me.”

When you both looked up, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

Morgan hands Aaron the velvet pillow and you quickly exchange rings, suddenly anxious for the upcoming part of the ceremony.

The voice of the minister rings out once again.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife! Aaron, you may kiss your bride.”

Cheers rang out from the crowd as he pulled you in for a long, warm kiss. Probably too long for a wedding, but with the heart-stopping heat that clouded your minds, neither of you cared much.

As you come up for air, Aaron literally sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the reception area. As you wait for the guests to make their way over, it finally sinks in. You’re finally married to your one true love.

As soon as the guests are all seated, dinner is served. Then before you could even blink, it’s time for speeches. Penelope taps her glass with a fork, capturing the attention of the room.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate two of our favorite people on the joyous occasion of their marriage. I would like to remind everyone that this is all my doing. If I hadn’t taken the liberty of setting these two sweet little lovebirds up on a blind date, we probably wouldn’t be here today. You’re welcome,” she says turning to face the two of you. “But in all seriousness, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we wish you a lifetime of love and happiness.”

Handing the mic over to Rossi, Penelope is seated.

“Where do I start?” He laughs. “I’ve known Aaron probably longer than anyone here. He’s always been more than just a good man. He is a loyal friend, and a great dad for Jack. If anyone in the world deserves true happiness, it’s this guy,” he says, placing a hand your husband’s shoulder. “We’ve seen your relationship with Y/N flourish and come to love her as one of our own. I can confidently say that she will a loving mother, and a caring, patient wife. I wish every blessing for the both of you from this moment forward.”

Rising from your seats to hug your two friends, you’re reminded by Penelope that’s time for your first dance. Taking you gently by the hand, Aaron leads you to the middle of the empty dance floor. With everyone watching your heart begins to race until Aaron pulls you close. The nerves melt away as you rest your head on his chest and his arms circle your waist. The two of you sway softly as the music begins:

We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January

This is our place, we make the rules

And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you 20 seconds, or 20 years?

As the song goes continues and you look into his eyes so full of love, you can’t help but sing along.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close

Forever and ever?

Take me out, and take me home.

You’re my, my, my, my.... Lover.

Listening to the words you’re singing, he can’t help but fall in love all over.

My heart’s been borrowed and your has been blue

All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramtic and true to my.... Lover

You pour you heart out in song, desperately hoping that Aaron knows how much you mean every word. He does. The sincerity is written all over your lovely face.

As the music slowly winds down, the guest begin to join the two of you on the dance floor.

Tapping Aaron on the shoulder, Rossi cuts in for his turn. You manage to dance with everyone, even Reid, reluctant though he may be. The whole team was having a great time, laughing and dancing when Penelope had to slip back into maid of honor mode. Grabbing both you and Aaron by the wrist she all but drags you to the table.

Approaching the cake, you grab the slicer with your right hand. Pressing closely against your back and giving you a soft kiss on the cheek, Aaron covers your hand with his. After cutting two small slices, you turn to face each other. Taking a piece in hand you raise it to Aaron and he opens his mouth just before you smear it across his unsuspecting face.

Closing his eyes and trying hard not to laugh, he responds.

“Oh so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

“Yep!” you tease gleefully. “What are you gonna do about it, Mister?”

“This!” He exclaims, returning the favor and smashing the cake in your face.

“Really should have seen that one coming,” you muse.

“Yeah you should have.”

At that moment he pulls you close, pressing his soft lips to yours for the sweetest kiss ever known to mankind and the room burts into a fresh round of cheers.

The two of you scurried off to get cleaned up, and when you make your return, Penelope is waiting with your next task. A car is waiting to take you to the airport for your honeymoon. It’s time to go.

You make your rounds saying goodbye as everyone makes their way out for your final exit. One last song comes on as you make your way out and Aaron holds you close, singing in his perfect deep voice as you stroll through thrown confetti:

I was a boat stuck in a bottle

That never got the chance to touch the sea

But I came to life when I first kissed you

The best me has his arms around you

You make me better than I was before

Thank God I’m yours

The worst me is just a long gone memory

You put a new heartbeat inside of me

You make me better than I was before

Thank God I’m yours

By the time you made it to car and sat down you were in tears for probably the tenth time that night, you’d lost count.

The car was just about to pull away when Emily sprinted up to the door. Leaning down, she spoke to both of you.

“Hey you crazy kids, have fun! And remember, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Emily there’s nothing you wouldn’t do,” returns Aaron, catching you by surprise.

“Exactly,” she replies, slamming the door and slapping the roof of the car. You could have sworn you saw a wink.

As the car pulls away, the two of you get your first truly private moment of the night to process what just happened.

Snuggled close to Aaron’s left side, your head rests on his chest and his left arm drapes around your shoulder.

“We’re married,” you state, reaching to touch the gold band on his left ring finger.

“Yes we are,” he whispers, softly pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You’re my husband,”

“Uh huh,” he agrees, gently stroking your hair.

Looking up into his gorgeous face you confess once more, “I love you, Aaron Hotchner.”

After a slight pause, he replies with a smirk,

“I love you more.... Mrs. Hotchner.”

Tag list: @ange-must-die @agenthotchner @yes-sir-hotchner @hotchner-carisi @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @whoredonlightfoot @miss-united-ace

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch fluff #criminal minds fluff #thomas gibson imagine #thomas gibson x reader #criminal minds imagine

[grantyort]

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.  

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

 [Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean! 

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait! 

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

 DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white] 

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response.  Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go. 

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for... 

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

#life is strange 2 #life is strange #sean diaz #daniel diaz #captain spirit #chris eriksen #stephen reynolds #lis2 #captain spirit ww #joey peterson

[captainsolare]

Concert

Fluffvember Day 7: Concert - Leopold Vermillion (f! reader) 

Summary: You're a classical violinist and tonight is your big debut at the Castle Town concert hall. Your long-time friend Leopold is in the audience, and he begins to see you in a whole new light after watching you achieve your biggest dream

Word Count: 1,825 

A/N: I’m probably a little biased because I am a classical violinist, but this was by far my favorite one to write so far this month! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The Max Bruch Violin Concerto no. 1 partly inspired this so if you would like to, listen to the first movement. 

masterlist 

----- 

You stood in the atrium of the concert hall, patrons, mostly upper crust and royalty, milling about and drinking before the event began. "Ugh Y/N, I don't know how you can stand going to these events. Everything is so stuffy, even the clothing." Your friend Leopold complained, pulling the collar of his dress shirt away from his neck. You rolled your eyes, at him lightly punching him in the arm, "Going to these events, is kind of my job you know. Plus, orchestra music isn't stuffy, you're just lame and have no taste." 

Leo was about to object but before he could do so a bell was rung and you had to dash off. "Sorry! That's my cue to go change, I'll see you after the concert okay?" You said apologetically, planting a chaste goodbye kiss on his cheek before disappearing into the crowd. The kiss was meant as a friendly gesture, nothing more, the two of you had grown up quite close after all, but nonetheless Leo was left standing there dumbstruck, hand lightly touching the place your lips had been a moment before. 

He gathered himself and entered the concert hall, heading for the Vermillion family box; he was a little nervous he had to admit, he was the sole Vermillion sibling here tonight and so a lot of eyes were on him. Fuegoleon was away on an important business matter and who knows where Mereoleona was, she usually couldn't be bothered to come to events like this, they were far too constricting for her wild nature. 

Even though Leo found these events stuffy, like most of his royal duties, he came tonight without much complaint because tonight would be the first time he would get to see you perform a concerto with an orchestra as large as this one. You had picked up the violin at an early age, and had been traveling the country playing at concert halls all over, but tonight would be your big debut on the Castle Town stage and Leo was excited. Not because he particularly enjoyed orchestral music like this, but because it was something you enjoyed.  Growing up, he had always admired the way your eyes sparkled as you talked about your dreams of someday playing on this stage, and here you were achieving the dream you had worked so hard for. 

The first piece was a long drawn out number that had him nearly falling asleep, Mimosa, his cousin, had to elbow him several times to keep him from snoring. He supposed he should have felt a bit sheepish, but you weren't onstage so he couldn't bring himself to care all that much. During intermission Mimosa turned to him excitedly, "Y/N is on next, isn't that so exciting?" He nodded, "Yeah! This is her big dream!" 

Intermission seemed to be over in a flash, the lights dimming and he waited with bated breath as the spotlight lit up the space you'd walk through shortly. When you appeared Leo felt his breath hitch, you were in a stunning turquoise dress, sparkling in the light that illuminated the stage. "Wow." Mimosa whispered, awestruck. He could only nod in agreement, the dress suited you perfectly, the perfect battle armor to conquer the stage tonight. 

When you'd told him about this concert a few weeks ago, it had taken everything in him not to launch himself across the table and wrap you up in a bear hug. Well, almost everything, despite him trying not to, he did it anyway, leaving you both grinning ear to ear and laughing with excitement.

The audience clapped and you shook hands with the conductor and the concertmaster then took up your post near the front of the stage. Leo remembered you mentioning that you were nervous about playing from memory, so he silently cheered you on, hoping you could hear him in your heart. 

As the timpani began playing, your eyes searched the audience, your hands were sweaty and your heart was pounding, you couldn't see the audience very well because of the spotlights but you knew there was a familiar head of red hair out in the crowd and that gave you comfort. The flutes and woodwinds came in next and you prepared to come in with your cadenza. 

From the second your first note reached his ears, to the second your last chord echoed through the hall Leo simply found himself unable to take his eyes off of you. Your notes were spellbinding, taking his breath away and telling a story with just sound, it was a language unlike any he had heard before. He had always admired you, your strength of character, your sense of humor, your honesty, brutal at times but that's definitely when he needed to hear it the most; but tonight, something tugged at his heartstrings and was rooting in his brain, and suddenly he saw you in a whole new light. 

When the concerto ended you were a panting mess, any trace of nervousness had evaporated as you reached the end, a beaming smile appeared on your face as you bowed, the roar of applause filling your ears. From somewhere in the crowd you heard a distinct whistle and you had to contain your laughter, that was definitely Leo. I guess he liked it then? That's fantastic!  You probably wouldn't admit this to anyone, but when you got up on this stage tonight you didn't care about all the opinions of the various noble folk and royalty that had attended, if you were being honest the most important, and perhaps the only opinion that mattered to you was Leopold's. 

You made your way to the atrium because you had to accept your congratulations from the audience members in person, it was simply good practice. Several people congratulated you, others noted that you played well even though you were not royalty, you took each comment with grace and a smile, praying that you'd be able to go home soon and celebrate as you wished to; perhaps with a long soak in the bath to ease your aching muscles.

 Leo and Mimosa appeared in the atrium, eyes scanning the room for a sign of you; Mimosa couldn't help but be amused by the way you both perked up as you caught sight of one another. Ahh, young love. She mused, then giggled to herself, who am I kidding? I'm young too. 

Leo made a beeline for you as soon as your current conversation ended and grabbed your hands with excitement. "Oh Y/N, that was so amazing, I could just kiss you right now!" He said, practically buzzing with energy. You deadpanned and he was about to pull away, but rather than pulling away as well you said, "Kiss me then." It was almost a challenge, and Leo backed down from it, suddenly hyper-aware of all the people watching you; he lost his nerve and decided to change the subject. 

"Do you--- do you need someone to come with you? To help carry your things?" He asked, nervous about even this small interaction for some reason. Mentally he kicked himself, usually, conversation was so easy with you, but now he was just a bumbling mess. Your face fell into a smile, "That would be lovely Leo." You led the way to the green room and greeted the other performers, thanking them for a job well done. As you packed your things, Leo couldn't help but notice the slight frown that twisted your features. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. When you nodded he dropped the subject, opting instead to carry your things as he had promised. 

The atrium was empty when you emerged from the green room, and you found yourself in awkward silence with Leo. Secretly, you were disappointed that he hadn't taken you up on your challenge earlier and you didn't know how to feel about it. Do I really have feelings for him? Leo's thoughts seemed to be on the same track as yours as you exited the building into the night air.

 "Did you mean it?" "Mean what?" You asked, turning to face him; in an attempt to not misconstrue things you weren't going to answer unless he asked you exactly what was on his mind. A blush graced Leo's features and his heart was pounding in his head, "Did you actually want me to kiss you back there?" 

You tilted your head, trying to sort through your emotions so you could give him a straight answer. "I think so. I'm not really sure, I just, I said that without thinking and I'm not sure of what exactly I'm feeling right now." Leo gulped, trying to gather up the courage for his next question, "Do you… do you still want me to?" 

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, eyes not leaving your friend for a second as he carefully set your things on the ground next to him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and awkwardly grabbed your arms as he leaned in, the kiss was short and sweet, but it left you with an unsatisfied feeling and solidified in your mind that you did, in fact, want to kiss him. In fact, you wanted to kiss his stupid face again and again. 

Leo looked away awkwardly, wanting to kiss you again but not sure how to ask. Luckily he didn't have to, as you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in closer to you. "Do you want me to?" You asked breathlessly, you were so close you could feel each other's breaths on your lips. When he nodded you didn't hesitate, slamming your lips into his. 

Mimosa appeared from out of the concert hall, a mixture of wanting to roll her eyes and cheer seeping into her expression. "Took you guys long enough." She said, hands on her hips and looking away; she was happy for you both but the last thing she wanted to watch was your makeout session. 

The two of you jumped and pulled apart quickly at her sudden interjection. "What do you mean, took us long enough?" You asked, a little sheepish at the implication that she had known your feelings long before you had. "Don't worry about it. Want to go get some ice cream or something to go celebrate your big night?" You and Leo exchanged a glance, "Absolutely!" Mimosa led the way to the nearby ice cream shop, you and Leo trailing a little ways behind. 

"Was tonight exactly how you dreamed it would be?" He asked as you walked hand in hand. You shook your head and smiled at him, glancing at your intertwined hands, "Nope, it was even better." 

"Hurry up or I'll eat without you!" Mimosa yelled, interrupting your moment for a second time that night. You both chuckled and sped up to meet her at the door, filled with the feeling of a new chapter beginning. 

#Fluffvember 2020 #f!reader #leopold vermillion fluff #leopold x reader #aurora borealis #planet fluffvember