#Emily Breeze

[maquina-semiotica]

Emily Breeze, "Ordinary Life - Radio Edit"

[genshinimpactresources]

Genshin Impact Emote Packs: Paimon’s Paintings 34 (No Text Versions)

[teathattast]

you got me in the palm of your hand

yeah, i could get used to this

i know you've been hurt before

but i understand

[jils-things]

my portrayal of soul catcher 💭

before you continue: any latinos who are reading this (hi friends) who feel the need to correct me on what i might say about dia de los muertos PLEASE SAY IT because im indulging in your holiday like a barbie doll and you gotta tell me if im ruining their dress so i can correct my mistake 😖😖😖 ive done a bit of research before making this but im prone to misinterpretation 👍👍👍

so soul catcher to me is a grim reaper, it just makes sense because his idle animation is him escorting a soul with what seemed like a marigold petal (you know, the flowers that are heavily associated with this holiday) and ive read that sta. muerte is known to deliver souls safely into the afterlife. so that's what he is to me. but at the same time he's also someone Helps separate the soul from the newly departed's body - something that a grim reaper does. they don't tamper with the cause of death, they just help direct the soul where it should be :] these two concepts go hand in hand to me :3

also i really like how his costume description reinforces this concept of souls :3

in my last soul catcher post (with eidolon) i mentioned how eidolon is also this wandering spectre/undead gal that has gotten some rumors spreading around the locals. i like to think that once soul actually got to meet her and tried to "separate her soul" from her body (its... his "job" anyway...) it didn't work because she's partially alive. you cannot take away someone's soul when they're still alive... but also at the same time, she isn't? it was truly a curse. it was a very perplexing issue to him - and even if he wanted to help her be free of her conundrum ... it really wasn't possible. it's like, the curse has higher power over her right to the afterlife

so, she was truly doomed to be stuck where she is today. there's no way to undo it, not even with the superior magic that soul has. so the least he can do is let her know that he's there to be her friend, and he'll keep her company - maybe for eternity.

[a-whiff-of-a-dream]

Sitting with a last iced coffee in my garden, reading, listening to hozier. Life is good

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

anyway, Emily In Paris s4 is hilarious to me specifically because I, a tropics girl with no snow sport experience, was once abandoned on a mountain. in my case it was because my man was injured and whisked away by ski patrol in one of those little sled cocoons, but like. it's so funny. I also had no phone. I couldn't make it more than one length of my snowboard before falling over. pure sitcom shit. I was crying and falling and crying for THREE HOURS before I made it off the mountain. I have more grit than fictional Emily or perhaps merely more pride: I got down eventually and stepped out of the snowboard and dried my tears and composed myself before going into the clinic and meeting my beloved. I pretended everything was totally fine. It was literally YEARS later before I casually mentioned that I was crying and falling and crying the whole time and the three hours wasn't because I went off to snowboard for fun. Just. Crying falling crying GOD IM GONNA DIE I DON'T EVEN HAVE LIP BALM!!! IN MY BORROWED ALL BLACK MARGINALLY CHIC SNOWSUIT! the whole way down.

[fiction-quotes]

It was so long since Emily had been out for a walk that she was half crazy with the joy of it. The winter had been so stormy and the snow so deep that she was never allowed out; April had been a month of rain and wind; so on this May evening she felt like a released prisoner. Where should she go? Down the brook – or over the fields to the spruce barrens? Emily chose the latter.

She loved the spruce barrens, away at the further end of the long, sloping pasture. That was a place where magic was made. She came more fully into her fairy birthright there than in any other place. Nobody who saw Emily skimming over the bare field would have envied her. She was little and pale and poorly clad; sometimes she shivered in her thin jacket; yet a queen might have gladly given a crown for her visions – her dreams of wonder. The brown, frosted grasses under her feet were velvet piles. The old, mossy, gnarled half-dead spruce-tree, under which she paused for a moment to look up into the sky, was a marble column in a palace of the gods; the far dusky hills were the ramparts of a city of wonder. And for companions she had all the fairies of the countryside – for she could believe in them here – the fairies of the white clover and satin catkins, the little green folk of the grass, the elves of the young fir-trees, sprites of wind and wild fern and thistledown. Anything might happen there – everything might come true.

And the barrens were such a splendid place in which to play hide and seek with the Wind Woman. She was so very real there; if you could just spring quickly enough around a little cluster of spruces – only you never could – you would see her as well as feel her and hear her. There she was – that was the sweep of her grey cloak – no, she was laughing up in the very top of the taller trees – and the chase was on again – till, all at once, it seemed as if the Wind Woman was gone – and the evening was bathed in a wonderful silence – and there was a sudden rift in the curdled clouds westward, and a lovely, pale, pinky-green lake of sky with a new moon in it.

Emily stood and looked at it with clasped hands and her little black head upturned. She must go home and write down a description of it in the yellow account book, where the last thing written had been, “Mike's Biograffy.” It would hurt her with its beauty until she wrote it down. Then she would read it to Father. She must not forget how the tips of the trees on the hill came out like fine black lace across the edge of the pinky-green sky.

And then, for one glorious, supreme moment, came “the flash.”

  —  Emily of New Moon (L. M. Montgomery)

[cinnamonchaos]

The night-wind

In summer's mellow midnight, A cloudless moon shone through Our open parlour window, And rose-trees wet with dew. I sat in silent musing; The soft wind waved my hair; It told me heaven was glorious, And sleeping earth was fair. I needed not its breathing To bring such thoughts to me; But still it whispered lowly, 'How dark the woods would be! 'The thick leaves in my murmur Are rustling like a dream, And all their myriad voices Instinct with spirit seem.' I said, 'Go, gentle singer, Thy wooing voice is kind: But do not think its music Has power to reach my mind. 'Play with the scented flower, The young tree's supply bough, And leave my human feelings In their own course to flow.' The wanderer would not heed me: Its kiss grew warmer still: 'Oh Come!' it sighed so sweetly; 'I'll win thee 'gainst thy will. 'Were we not friends from childhood? Have I not loved thee long? As long as thou, the solemn night, Whose silence wakes my song. 'And when thy heart is resting Beneath the church-aisle stone, I shall have time for mourning, And thou for being alone.'

[littleneko2296]

The Glitter Force (Smile Pretty Cures!) and Glitter Force Doki Doki (Doki Doki! Pretty Cures) in their civilian and Glitter (Cure) forms, but I made them in Gacha Club.

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/722238922059661313/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom

@beatingheart-bride

“I think...I think it’s...a risk we may have to take.”

God, he wished he’d kept in touch with Dorian from their boyhood onwards...it wasn’t for a lack of trying on his part, he sent letters, but they never netted him any replies, and it gutted him now...not only because he lost connection with his oldest and dearest friend (in many ways, his only friend), but now, more than ever, he wished he could reach out, tell him, warn him of what was to happen if things went unchecked...

But even with those nagging fears, he still felt it was a gamble they’d have to take if it meant saving their lives as well. It was a hell of a gamble to take, yes, but he tried to have faith in the idea. He liked to imagine that Dorian had grown to be a reasonable man, and even if he and Emily didn’t know each other now the way they did in the future, he liked to think, even with their meeting in passing, he’d be kind enough to listen to her...

God, it was all enough to make a man’s head spin! In an effort to comfort them both, Randall once more took Emily’s hand in his, giving it a little squeeze before pressing a tender kiss to her knuckle, a gesture he often did whenever he took her hand in his. It made him wonder if he still did it in the future, if he still took her soft, delicate hand in his and kissed it, a silent expression of his love.

In fact, was he able to do so in the future, openly, no less? In this house full of hundreds, did people not bat an eye at their love? Or did they still have to hide their affection, their marriage from those around them? He liked to hope not, he liked to hope the future was a better, kinder place than now...again, he had so many questions racing through his mind, but he tabled them for now, in favor of kissing and holding her hand, keeping them grounded in the moment.

[dcwnrisen-aa]

'They're definitely your babies.' Her bright laughter resounds brightly as she wades through the water ; cradling one of the triplets, continuing to beam while her baby girl squeals -- smacking her pudgy hands on the surface to create splashes. / uwu bringing the beans out for a swim for the first time

phoenix is quite delighted that their children take after emily. wild hair, chubby cheeks and her bright smile, though the eyes are all theirs, as are the growing claws and sharp teeth. although, the affinity for water makes their chest warm. they wades close, tail creating their own ripples as they watch isabella's gleeful squeals and they gently splash her, just a few droplets and grins proudly as she giggles and splashes the water once more. hand reaches out, gently tussling wild, wet strands.

❝ ━ mm, you think so ? she's just as wild and curious as you are, em. ❞ they holds isabella's brothers, henri and rémy, bouncing them a bit as they wiggle against their side, trying to escape into the water. it makes phoenix chuckle and though they don't let the go, phoenix loosens their hold, allowing them to float on their own and their heart melts at the easy way their boys adapt to the water. of course, they don't stray too far, the reptile doesn't want their lady to worry. ❝ ━well, maybe the boys take after me more, they're already ready to swim, heh. ❞

[genshinimpactresources]

Genshin Impact ES | Festival of the Flowers (Feria de las Flores) Artwork

Artist: PaimonaUwU

[evandore]

wait what the hell literally crazy series of events that made me figure smth out thats been bugging me.

ok so i got a notif on tiktok that someone liked one my videos and i was like yipeee !! whatever. but i saw that the lady was holding an instrument and i always check muscians pages cause im like omg you have such a nice voice and you like myyyy silly little cover :3 anyway. she was playing an instrument called the autoharp ! which has a very distinct look

^ two photos for cropping. anyway i saw this and i was like. no fucking way. bc look. one of my favorite bands is rail yard ghosts and theyre unique bc they have a lot of different people who play in the band. they travelled and trainhopped the entire time they were active and people were constantly coming in and out and whats unique abt that is that everyone played different instruments. so every video of them (not that theres a lot lol) theres always different people and different instruments and even recordings like no two songs will ever sound the same.

with that context there one of the member in rail yard ghosts - her name is amanda and i covered one of the songs she wrote and she follows me instagram LMAOOOO - who was featured in a lot of videos and i had no idea what the fuck she was playing. they had some unique instruments in rotation but most had been identified by other people but this one that no one could tell me. AND ITS AN AUTO HARP !!!!! im soooo shocked i never expected to figure it out like im so happy.

amanda is in the chair at front and look at that !!!! wow !!!!! i know literally no one cares abt this but me but im soooo excited this is so cool

[exclaims]

every time i listen to this cover i think that i can get through it just once. it has now been on repeat for 30 min

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

“hungover” - hotch x fem!reader

after a girls’ night in, you wake up next to your boyfriend.

1380 words - FLUFFY FLUFF

cw; mentions of alcohol and food, implied age gap?, typical hangover, jemily agenda (sry not sry)

a/n: I wrote this on my phone on vacation bc I have a serious problem

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The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you are not in your clothes.

You aren’t in your clothes. And you only realize it because of the scent wafting up your nose. Sea Salt Breeze - the cologne you’d gotten him for Christmas last year - emanates from the t-shirt that envelopes your upper half. You dip your chin for another whiff, breathing him in deeply. You want the smell inscribed into your brain.

You feel the bed dip and creak and you instinctively shut your eyes, playing possum as Aaron pads into the bathroom. The door whines as he shuts it most of the way, not totally closing it because he thinks you’re still asleep and that the sound of the door shutting will wake you.

Each of your senses turns on one at a time, like your brain waves run on dial-up Internet. You open your eyes and the room is mostly dark, save for the sliver of light creeping in through the outline of the curtains. You run the palm of your hand along Aaron’s sheets and marvel over how soft they are - Egyptian cotton, he’d told you once before.

Your head hurts, but only mildly. You’d certainly been drunker before, but last night was still up there. Penelope made her mojitos strong.

You slowly sit up in the bed as Aaron opens the door, flicking the bathroom light off in the same motion. Your eyes meet his and he cracks a small smile. “Thought you’d still be asleep,” he muses. You love his pale blue boxers and seeing the hair on his legs. His calves are crazy defined - he’s a runner, after all, but still. You rarely see him in anything but a suit and tie, so it’s always a treat. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shake your head, wincing slightly at the movement. Maybe you’re a little more hungover than you thought. “I was already awake,” you mumble, running a hand over your face. “Did you put me in your own clothes last night? I have pajamas in my drawer,” you point out, gesturing to the second drawer of Aaron’s dresser, the one that contains your set of pajamas, a few spare pairs of underwear, and a couple of emergency outfits, just in case you end up sleeping over at his place.

It happens more often than not, so you keep the drawer decently stocked at all times.

“You insisted,” Aaron climbs into the bed, reaching for you. He tugs you to him and you roll over onto your side, and then halfway onto your tummy so that your leg drapes over his and your palm rests flat on his chest.

You can hear his heart beating. It’s like a metronome, steady and guiding and calm. You feel his pointed chin nuzzle into your hair and then, his lips, quick yet effective, against your forehead.

Flashes of last night run through your head. You, Emily and JJ, over at Penelope’s apartment. A symphony of girlish giggles, talking about Emily and JJ’s upcoming wedding date, drinking at least three pitchers of mojitos among the four of you. Watching Dirty Dancing and gabbing the entire time, realizing it’d be a bad idea to drive yourself home, and calling Aaron to come get you.

When he arrived, you called him Hotch and apologized for him having to come get you, and he reminded you that he was Aaron and he was your boyfriend and he would pick you up anytime you needed it. You were determined to play the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on the ride home, fumbling with his phone until you found it.

You belted out (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life and demanded Aaron sing along. He admitted that he didn’t know all the words and you gave him a stern lecture until you started laughing so hard that you were in tears. Traffic lights reflected Christmas ornament colors in Aaron’s brown eyes as he drove, occasionally glancing over at you.

You swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you berated him for not knowing the words to such a classic song.

And then, once you were back at his place, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at your shoes dumbly until Aaron offered to help you take them off. “Laces too hard,” you mumbled, and Aaron just hummed in agreement before kneeling down to help you.

And then he helped you out of your clothes. He went for your drawer, and you threw a pillow at him. “The college t-shirt,” you demanded with these Bambi-esque eyes.

“Arms up, baby,” Aaron said as he slid his law school t-shirt onto your upper half. He saved that specific term of endearment for times like these, when he was taking care of you, when he himself was exhausted. You could tell he was, too, not only because he kept yawning, but because of that glazed-over look in his chestnut eyes.

You glance down at the words George Washington University, printed over your chest.

Aaron’s arms around you tighten for just a moment as he embraces you, and you dig your face a little further into his chest. “No Jack today?” You ask, your voice coming out croaky.

“At his grandparents’,” Aaron murmurs, and you yawn. He strokes your hair. “How’s your head?”

“I haven’t had any complaints so far.”

Aaron’s hand freezes in your hair, and you lift your head, smirking at him. His mouth has formed a straight line, but you snicker and you can tell he’s trying not to smile at your dirty joke. “Degenerate,” he calls you.

“Prude,” you tease back, inching closer to kiss his jaw briefly before laying your head back down. “It hurts,” you answer his question. “But not as bad as it could.”

“That’s good,” Aaron comments, his hand running through your hair again, gently, the world’s most relaxing and least effective hairbrush. It feels nice, but his hands are so big that his fingers snag on the tangles, accomplishing nothing but making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Nothing wrong with that, though.

“Do you want some Tylenol for your headache?” Aaron asks, and you just curl up into him even more. He’s so warm, and sturdy, and it’s so rare that you get mornings like this. Either you’re both working or Jack has a soccer game or there’s something else going on. It’s nice just to lay around with him, to be mildly hungover and pretend like that’s the only thing going on in either of your lives.

“That would require getting out of bed,” you protest, and feel Aaron’s arms tighten around you. He’s a very doting boa constrictor.

“How about I get it for you, then?” He offers, and you shake your head and shift all your weight onto him. He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise you know you’re only privy to for about twenty minutes right after he’s woken up. “So that’s a no.”

“That’s a no,” you confirm, settling back in to your original position.

You lay like that with him, in comfortable silence, for a few minutes. Until it feels like you’ve melded into one being. Then Aaron finally shifts under you. “Honey, my arm’s asleep,” he whispers, as though he’s afraid to disturb you.

You slither off of him, then clamber out of bed with no amount of grace, going so far as to trip over the corner post of the bed. As Aaron sits up, you exclaim, “I’m okay!” and hold your hands out to steady yourself.

Aaron stifles a laugh and you watch him stand from the bed and he walks towards you, steadying you with one of those gargantuan hands on your shoulder. He then lifts that hand to tip your chin up. You step forward in a silent dance, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him. “Oh, shit,” you murmur. “I bet I have really awful morning breath.”

He just blinks a few times, and then offers you a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, honey, you kind of do,” he admits. You lightly punch him in the pectoral and then head to the en suite to brush your teeth.

[multifandomme]

In The Shadows

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Summary: Sometimes, rude awakenings can be a welcomed surprise.

Genre: Smut, (mommy kink, strap ons, choking, light degrading, pet names, face-slapping, somno vibes), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 1k.

This piece is for day 5 of kinktober under the 'mommy kink' prompt. This is a modified version of a work I originally posted in 2022.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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Robust was the force that tore you from slumber, a pair of frantic hands grasping hard around your ankles as they dragged you to the edge of the bed. A dazzling simper peered out from the surrounding dimness, pale features eclipsed by the swaying of branches beyond the window, projected upon her skin like a canvas.

Deep, brown irises stirred with something unbeknownst, glimmering as ephemeral bursts of light cast upon them. They transfixed you, she possessed you, enough to have you returning to a state of half-sleep.

“Ssshh, baby,” Emily cooed, the familiarity of her voice able to pierce your dreams and lull you awake, burgundy-painted fingernails etching a downward line from your sternum. “Go back to sleep, Mommy just wants to play with you a little, hm?"

Shivers flurried over you, more fervently so as you felt the woman’s fingers pause in place as they reached the hem of your underwear before gingerly slipping beneath them. Subconsciously, your mouth fell agape, the smallest of whimpers exuding until Emily occluded it with a finger smothering against the flesh of your lips.

“Ah, ah,” she chastised, dulcetly, her tone enough to render you docile, compliant, melting into a shapeless puddle below her. “You look so pretty when you’re sleeping,” She cooed, the weight of her lust beclouded by the faintest of smirks. “Mommy just couldn’t help herself, you understand, don't you, princess?"

Emily traced languidly across your clit, hypnotic, feather-like touches willing you into madness. Unbridled amusement cloaked her features as she stalled to marvel at the way your hips bucked and thrashed pathetically below her careful ministrations.

“You’re soaked,” she observed in faux surprise, seduction setting her dark eyes alight as she lifted her fingers to her mouth and suckled in delight. “Such an easy, little thing, aren’t you?”

Any semblance of coherency was long forsaken, your throat vibrating with moans that threatened to spill out, uncontrolled. But the way Emily ogled you so overtly kept you silent, restrained, aching.

“Are you going to be good for me?” Emily queried, a devilish smirk fused to her lips in the knowing that the question was redundant in any case. “Answer me, darling.”

A zealous nod was all that you were able to muster as you felt Emily roughly prying open your thighs, slender fingers ripping away the material that separated her from what she desired.

Cool air breezed across your bare skin, the familiar feeling of something large pressing roughly into your pussy. Emily wasted no time as she collapsed on top of you, the intrusion pushing in to the hilt as an all-encompassing pain-pleasure rippled with vigour. Soft lips trailed against your neck and punctuated each merciless thrust, a hand soon finding refuge around your throat and tightening in sporadic motion.

“Mommy,” you breathed, the groan lost amongst the sound of feral movement, Emily's teeth buried harshly into your pulse point, nipping at your skin and bound to leave bruising thereafter.

“You want more, don’t you?” Emily coaxed, persuasively, the pace abruptly increasing as you wrangled for breath. “Nothing but a toy for Mommy to use.”

Emily's tongue flickered across her lips as your eyes rolled into your head, dizzied with exhilaration as she slammed into you with brute force. Carnal desire had her driving into you like a woman deranged, a sadistic smile never too far away as she cinched your throat harder and had you clinging onto consciousness by the flimsiest of threads.

“Please, Mommy,” you croaked out pathetically, a blurriness infiltrating your periphery as you fought to stay present, fought to keep your eyes securely upon Emily's to no avail. “I think I’m going to pass-”

A stinging sensation racked across your cheek, a sudden alertness drawing a gasp from you as you noted the absence of pressure around your neck. Emily grinned widely and slapped you mercilessly across the face once more, a pitiful whine fleeing from you as the pain furthered the visceral pulsation between your legs.

“Fuck,” you blurted, the pleasure slowly superseding every other sensation as you grappled with Emily's shoulders in pre-warning, your fingernails digging desperately into her back.

The woman merely chuckled, the force behind her hips so strong, so unwavering that you knew that your body would ache for days in the aftermath. Silver-grey strands tickled your face as you tried to jostle free of her, arms holding you in a vice grip to reiterate just how powerless she had rendered you. Nothing but a rag doll below her tactful tantalisation.

“Aww, am I being too rough, baby?” Emily mocked, wholeheartedly humoured by your strife. “Just a little longer, darling," she promised, sweetly, a sinister smile befalling her in contradiction. "Mommy isn't finished with you, not yet."

The taunting tone of her voice sent you into a spiral, your legs knotted around her as you bounced yourself upon her length, consequences pushed aside as you came undone below her.

“Mommy!” You squealed, your hands flailing as they grabbed at every accessible part of her, your thighs quaking in flexion.

Emily quirked an eyebrow, silence engulfing the room as she drew backwards to feast on the sight of you, disheveled, humiliated, breathless. Her fingers lingered between your legs, touching directly upon your clit only to revel in the way you recoiled from the unbearable intensity it inflicted.

“Oh, my darling,” she whispered, a gentle kiss pressed to your temple. “You’re going to pay for that.”

It was only then that you realised that you had failed to ask for permission, your features flooding with terror as Emily regarded you with a victorious glint in her eye. The debt would undoubtedly be collected, though you wondered just what Emily had planned for your punishment.

"What are you going to do to me, Mommy?" You mumbled, nervously, the sudden emergence of Emily's thumb swiping softly against your lips, a deep hum emanating from her.

"You seem to have forgotten the rules, sweetheart," she crooned, tenderly, "but don't worry your pretty head about that," she assured, shoving her thumb forcibly into your mouth, your eyes widening at the sudden infiltration. "Mommy will make sure you remember all of them, hm? It's only fair, right, baby?"

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