#I’m happy with it but not that happy to tag Everyone In It

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 4

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Hi hi hi

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You don't own many dresses, and those you do, are more office casual than date night. Still, you have no time to stall, no room for excuses. You pick out the only one you think you can still squeeze into.

A button-up black dress with long sleeves, a white collar, and white trim around the sleeves and ruffled hem. It's something that would look much better on Audrey Hepburn. 

You check yourself in the mirror. You shouldn't care but you have to. If you want to get out the other side of this, if you want Vaughn to, you need to go along with it. You need to keep Steve happy. 

You emerge, as content as you can be with your appearance after a day of work and an unsettling homecoming. You keep your eyes on the floor as you wring your hands. You need heels, something to match. 

Before you can pass him, Steve stomps toward you. He pinches the frill around your skirt. "You look amazing, sweetheart." He lets go and drags his hand up your thigh and hip. "Can't believe it's the real thing, right in front of me." 

"Uh, yeah," you agree weakly. "I need shoes." 

"Sure, sweetheart, take your time. Get dolled up," he moves away with a sultry sigh. 

You feel him watching you as you shift around and search the shoe rack. You bend over to take out the black vinyl kitten heels and he purrs. You wince and stand up, wobbling as you step into them. 

"Hate to be too forward but I was away a while. Pretty lady like you has me all hot under the collar," he snickers. "Gotta say that dress hugs you in all the right places." 

"Thank you," you murmur and untangle the thin strap of a small purse. You shuffle around your work bag and slip your ID and debit card inside, along with a tube of lip balm. 

"You don't gotta be so shy," he nears. "I mean, I should be. Being locked up, I forget the way things are out here." He steps close and spreads his hand across your ass. "Just so nice to touch you...but I'll be a good boy and take you on a date first." 

You shudder and resist the urge to shove him away. You force a smile, "where are we going?" 

"Somewhere close," he answers and peels his hand off of you. "Been a while since I had a date," he snorts. "If you can't guess." 

"Me too," you mutter as you back up toward the door. You grab your keys. 

"Oh yeah? How long?" He asks as he opens the door and gestures you through. 

"How... er..." you think about it.  

You've not been on many. Vaughn always kept the men away. Even if they wanted a second date, it was never many more than that. 

"At least a year, I think," you step into the hall and he comes out after you. 

You lock the door as he stays close. You tuck the keys into your purse and he offers his hand. "Ready, sweetheart?" 

You don't hesitate. No more of that. You can't keep pushing your luck. You put your hand in his. You can feel his strength. 

He takes you down the hallway and patiently assists you down the stairs as your heels make your steps unsure. Or maybe that’s him. He’s especially gallant for someone like him. A criminal. Wait, no, he’s been absolved, hasn’t he? 

He slips his hand along your lower back as you come outside. There’s a hitch in his strut. Victory. 

“Got her out of storage, fresh wax,” he announces as he approaches the white vintage car you noticed before.

It’s strange how you can pick every single thing that’s out of place but you can never put them together. It was the same with Vaughn. 

“It’s very nice,” you say. “I don’t know much about cars, my brother...” 

You trail off. You’d rather not think or talk about him right now. 

Steve opens the passenger door for you. You get in and he lingers at your door. He purrs. 

“You really do look just perfect, sweetheart.” he tickles your jawline then draws back.  

He finally shuts you in. You shiver as you watch him through the windshield. You fix the hem of the skirt as it rides up with the two sizes you’ve put on since you bought it. Or maybe it shrunk? You pinch yourself as you do, hoping you might wake up from this nightmare. 

No, you’re already awake. Painfully so. 

Steve gets in and you peek over for just a second. The seat emphasizes his size. Everything seems to remind you of his power over you. Over your family.  

You’re so stupid. You have no one to blame but yourself. What were you thinking? Thanking a convinct? A criminal? A murderer? Or not a murderer? 

“You’re tired,” he says as he backs out, “seat belt, sweetheart. Last thing I need is an accident.” 

You buckle up. You dab your nose as it tingles. Don’t cry. You have to play this right. Pretend. 

“A little, yeah. Work...” 

“At the clinic, right?” He prompts. 

It’s like the phone calls. That familiarity he puts on. Your head spins as you replay all those nights in your head. It struck you then how presumptuous he could be. How he said ‘we’. His presence then reframes every call, every visit. They were not the same to him as you. 

“Yeah, a lot of phone call,” you swallow as your throat scratches. “People don’t like waiting.” 

“Tell me about it,” he chuckles. “After how long I waited for this...” 

You stare at his hand. Huge, thick, gripping the slender wheel. You put your eyes to your lap and play with the ruffle. 

“We’re gonna have a good night, sweetheart. You and me.” He preens. “A lot of them.” 

You nod and turn your face to the window, “yes, Steve. Thank you.” 

⛓️‍💥

The restaurant is nice. As you’re greeted at the door, Steve snakes his hand down your arm and twines his fingers through yours. As he squeezes, you realise how strange it must be to him. You shouldn’t empathize with him, not with all the threats, with how he’s taken your life over in less than an hour, but you do. 

“Table for two,” he says. 

The hostess smiles, “yes, sir. I can find you something.” 

She grabs two menus and a smaller one from the desk. She turns and leads you into the dining room. You walk just ahead of Steve as he urges you on, though his hand stays on yours. She stops you at a round table framed with a crescent bench. 

“Booth alright?” 

“Sure is,” Steve answers. 

He holds onto you until you sit. You slide around and he follows. The hostess lays out the menus. 

“Drink menu,” she points to the thinner folio, “a server will be by soon.” 

“Thank you,” you gulp out of courtesy, Steve echoing you. 

You clasp your hands in your lap as he takes the wine list and opens it. You’re not very hungry. Or thirsty. You’re scared. 

You glance at him, the around the restaurant. To the other diners, to the staff, he’s just another man. The suit hides his true character. If you passed him on the street, you’d assume he was some refined businessman. 

“Red or white?” He asks. 

You look at him again. The silver strands woven into his blond shine beneath the chandelier lighting above. You drag your hand up your sleeve. 

“You know, I’m not much of a drinker,” you murmur. 

“Well, it’s a special night, isn’t it, baby?” He drawls and closes the folder. 

He sets it down and you shift forward on the seat. He touches your lower back again, tickling you through your dress. Your posture goes rigid as you open the menu and focus on the options. He pulls his menu down, leaning it on the table’s edge as he continues to pet you, his other hand cradling the folder. 

“Steak. Mm. Been a while since I had a good filet,” he growls. 

“Sounds nice,” you nod. 

“What about you?” He wonders and traces his finger up your spine. 

“Hm, the pistachio crusted halibut sounds interesting,” you tap your nails on the page. 

“You don’t gotta peck like a bird around me,” his hand falls right back down, right along the top of your ass. “You really got a nice figure, sweetheart.” 

You fidget and flutter your lashes, “thank you. It’s not that. I was thinking... something light for dinner and the rice pilaf sounds interesting.” 

“Ah,” he trails along the cushion of your rear, “god, you’re so...” 

His voice peters off and a server appears across the table. He sits up and clears his throat. The man in his pressed white shirt and black slacks is amiable as he prompts you for your order. Steve lets you go first. You close the menu and hand it over after you order. 

“Of course, miss,” the server smiles at you. He’s young and handsome. These sort of restaurants only hire a certain type. 

“Bottle of champagne,” Steve begins, “we’re celebrating,” his arm curls around your middle, “and the New York Strip...” He finishes up his order and shoves the menu across the table. What’s that about? 

“Yes, sir, I’ll be back with the bottle and put your order in,” the server nods and glances between the both of you. 

He strides away and Steve growls. His fingertips dig into your side. He leans back and sucks his teeth. 

“Is something... wrong?” You twist to look at him. 

“That... guy. Looking at you like that,” he sneers. “He’s supposed to be taking our order, not ogling you.” 

“No, he wasn’t, Steve,” you assure him. 

“Sure as hell was. You’re just too sweet to notice. His eyes were all over you,” he huffs and his leg sways in agitation. “Judging me. Thinks I’m too old.” 

“Steve, he was perfectly polite,” you say, “please, you said it’s going to be a good night.” 

You bite your tongue as you examine his face. His sudden anger, his paranoia, unsettles you even more. His jaw ticks as he grits his teeth. 

“Steve,” you touch his sleeve, “please, I’m not here with the server, am I?” 

His blue eyes flick over to you. They search your face. You force a smile. 

You have to keep from wincing as he reaches for you. He frames your face with his large hand and grins, “you’re right, sweetheart.” He draws you closer. You let him. “All mine.” 

He meets your lips with his and you swallow a gasp. His nose brushes yours as he kisses you, softly, then his tongue glides over your lips. You resist for only a second then let him in. His hand slips behind your head as he locks you in. You brace his chest as he takes your breath away. 

“Ahem,” the server clears his throat. 

You rip away from Steve as he snickers. He wipes his mouth shamelessly as you shrink down in embarrassment. The server uncorks the bottle with a pop, his smile effortlessly hiding all judgment. He’s probably honed against all types of customers. 

He pours the bubbly and leaves the bottle. You watch him go and squirm. Steve sits up and takes his glass, “what’sa matter, sweetheart?” 

“N-nothing, I don’t-- I don’t usually do that... in public,” you sniff. 

He laughs again, “I know, you’re a good girl.” He hovers his glass. You take yours and he clinks his against it, “to us.” 

“To... us.” You echo softly. 

You drink as he does, mirroring him. It’s sweet and bubbly. He sets the glass down and reaches for the bottle. He grips it and drags it closer. 

“Only one for me, since I’m driving, so help yourself,” he says. “You deserve it. A nice night to let go.” 

“Oh, I...” you stare at the dark glass. Why did he order the whole bottle? 

He slaps his hand on your thigh and you squeak. Your hand falls over his instinctively. You look at him and lick the moisture from your lips. He growls and kneads your flesh. 

“Sweetheart,” he rasps. “Aren’t you happy? I’m here.” 

Your eyes dart back and forth, “yes, I’m happy.” 

He pushes his shoulders back and his cheek dimples, he shifts on the cushion. His other hand tugs at the top of his belt. 

“Not gonna lie, gonna be hard to hold out all night,” he smirks. “Six years...” 

You blink at him. You won’t look down. That’s too much. 

“You gonna be nice to me?” He leans in to nuzzle your cheek, tickling the back of your neck so you shiver. “Huh? I’m so pent up, baby, you gotta take it easy on me.” 

You shudder and ball your hand up tightly. Your stomach is roaring but not from hunger. The more you think about what he means, what he expects, the sicker you feel. 

“It’s been... a while for me too,” you assure him. “We can take it slow.” 

“Slow, baby?” He hums. “Oh, I don’t think I can.” 

[humanjarvis]

my happy is your happy

synopsis: luke thinks sylus should make more friends. but does he really need them?

tags: fluff, kinda comfort?, unintentional family dynamics (idk what came over me i didn’t expect that to happen), potential unrealistic use of sylus’s evol bc what does “energy manipulation” even mean, reader is protective of sylus, sylus overhears, asterisks to denote pov shifts bc i didn't want to use dividers pairing: sylus x reader word count: 774

a/n: it’s been like 2 days of people calling sylus a friendless loser on twitter and that’s fine but IIIII don’t think ur a loser, sylus. wrote this on a whim in the last 2 hours, questionably proofread

“Have you ever noticed that Boss doesn’t have any friends?” Luke’s youthful voice rings out, putting a swift end to your peaceful night of reading on the couch. 

Folding your half-finished book over your lap, you look up at his masked face, raising an eyebrow. “He has you.” 

Luke scoffs. “I don’t count, obviously.”

“He has Kieran.”

“We’re practically the same person. Try again,” he says, waving a hand dismissively.

“…He has Mephisto,” you offer, an innocent grin on your face. 

He doesn’t even dignify that one with a response. 

“He's still in his 20s, for God’s sake! Don’t you think he should go out more? Party a little, meet some new people?” Luke asks, gesturing wildly with his hands. 

“Not if he doesn’t think he needs to,” you say simply. 

*** 

Sylus had just stepped out of the shower when he overheard your tired voice from the living room. Not if I don’t think I need to…what? he ponders, mulling over the possibilities. Increase their monthly allowance? Install lasers into Mephisto’s eyes? Entrust Onychinus to the twins in my will?

“But no friends?” Luke asks dramatically, snapping Sylus out of his thoughts. “None? Not even one?”

Oh, Sylus thinks. That. 

Realizing you were defending his…comfortable lifestyle, Sylus feels something warm and tight and slightly wistful squeeze in his chest. Smiling to himself, he shrouds his body in the dark wisps of his Evol and moves closer, watching the rest of your conversation with interest. 

*** 

Exasperated, you run a hand through your hair. “Luke, I think you’re overthinking this. Not everyone wants to go out and party and meet people. What about Sylus makes you think he wants to go out and party and meet people? You put him in a room full of cheap club music and cheaper beer, and he’s going to evaporate into thin air. Or cause a mass casualty incident,” you say, only to be met with silence. 

Sighing, you start again. “Look, I understand that you care about him and want to make sure he’s happy—I do too—but Sylus’s happy isn’t Luke’s happy. It isn’t Kieran’s happy, or Mephisto’s happy, or even my happy. It’s his. He’s the only one who can decide what makes him happy, and he’s the only one who can decide if he is or not.”

When Luke’s mask droops—a telltale sign of a pout appearing—you switch tactics. “And maybe it’s not that he doesn’t have friends. Maybe you guys are just enough for him—did you ever think about that?” 

At this, the beak of his mask perks back up, and you know you’ve got him. 

“You think we’re…enough for him?” he asks, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You nod. 

And then you try to ignore the way his hands twitch in excitement, fighting with all you have to keep your giggle from surfacing. 

“That’s…” he clears his throat. “You know what? You’re right, Y/N, my bad. You’re really smart, you know,” Luke responds gruffly, an incriminating wobble in his voice. 

Smiling, you stand up to pat his hooded head. “I know.” 

“Well,” he starts, a new vigor in his steps as he heads toward the door. “I’m gonna go find Kieran. We just got this huge shipment of explosives that w—”

“Nope!” you interrupt. “You’re not getting me in trouble again. The less I know, the better.”

Shrugging, Luke disappears into the hallway, and you shake your head fondly. 

“What a heartwarming conversation,” a deep voice rings out. 

Jumping from shock, you whip your head around. “Sylus?!” you whisper-yell. “How long have you been there?!”

Emerging from the shadows of the bedroom behind you, Sylus strolls toward you, a soft smirk on his face. 

“Just long enough to hear your passionate defense of me,” he quips, wrapping an arm around your waist. “How much is your lawyer fee?”

Embarrassed, you swat his chest, bowing your head slightly. “I know he meant well, but I just…don’t like it when people try to take your life out of your hands,” you admit quietly. “It makes me sad.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we, kitten?” he rumbles, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Let me cheer you up—I very much enjoyed hearing you speak up for me.”

Lifting your head up, you look into his warm garnet eyes. “You did?” 

“Mm,” he hums, pulling you closer. “I do hate cheap beer, and you all are enough for me. You know me very well,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“But for all your expertise, you were wrong about one thing,” he whispers against you. “My happy is your happy.”

[hotchscoffeecup]

tied up in knots

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

rating: m (mdni 18+)

word count: 3.6

summary: after dropping a less than subtle hint (a book on shibari bondage) into your go-bag, prentiss suggests a new and exciting sexual endeavor for you to explore together as a couple. after solving the case, she sneaks into your hotel room to bring this vision to life and you’re more than happy to play into the fantasy.

tags: shibari bondage, vaginal fingering, strap on sex

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks, eyeing you curiously.

You blink out of your momentary stupor and look at your boots before glancing back up at the jet. “What?” You feign a laugh. “Sorry, just wondering what’s taking the stairs so long to descend.”

“I’m just asking because you’re holding onto your bag there like it’s going to grow legs and run away” Reid inclines his head towards arms, which are currently cradling (okay, clutching) the tote bag you usually let hang casually off your shoulder. He snorts a short laugh, “Which is of course impossible.”

You force a chuckle and thank God when the jet doors hiss and the stairs descend. The rest of the team arrives and you don’t miss the intense look Emily levels at you from beneath her long lashes as she silently passes you to ascend the steps onto the jet. Her vanilla almond body wash envelops you and it alone is enough to bring a furious heat to your cheeks.

Or maybe it’s the fact that she’d slipped a book on shibari bondage into your bag in passing in the bullpen like it was a totally normal thing to do. You felt its weight like a stone and worried that everyone around you knew what haughty material you were hiding.

Emily had said nothing when she’d dropped the book into your bag. In fact, you’d not even realized what she’d done until your personal phone buzzed, which was odd. You almost never received any texts or calls while at work that didn’t go directly to your work cell. Prentiss’ name had flashed on screen and you’d wondered momentarily if she’d meant to text your work phone.

I got you a present.

Brow furrowed, you’d bent down to check your bag and found a small book with a black and white cover titled: Shibari 101: A Beginner’s Guide to the Art of Japanese Bondage and immediately panicked, allowing the magnetic snaps of your tote to snap back together and hide it from sight. You’d managed to smack your head against the bottom of your desk and yelped in pain, drawing the eyes of all of your coworkers.

Derek had arched a brow and leaned back in his desk chair to investigate the source of distress.

“Everything ok over there?”

You’d nodded and rubbed at the back of your head, cracking a smile and shrugging. “Clearly, I just need another cup of coffee.”

Derek smiled and returned to his work. “You and me both.”

You swallow nervously and relinquish your grip on your bag, allowing it to swing by your side and remind yourself that none of your teammates have xray vision.

After securing your go bag into the overhead bin, you slump down into the nearest seat and tuck your tote back behind your legs.

Hotch wastes no time passing out Manila folders to everyone. As the plane kicks up speed and soars into the air, he briefs the team on the case they’re heading to in Cheyanne, Wyoming to investigate. While his balanced tenor drones on about what they know so far, you feel your phone buzz in your lap. You carefully click the home button to wake up your screen and read the message from Emily.

I’ve got big plans for you. Check page 102 for a sneak peek.

You gulp nervously and nearly jump out of your skin when Hotch says your name.

You drop your phone back into your lap and look up, eyes searching and landing on Hotch, who looks less than pleased. “Anything you’d like to share?”

Emily snickers softly across the way and bites at her cuticles before pretending to read over the case file.

You shake your head. “No sir, sorry.”

He presses his lips together and nods. As he returns to what he was saying, you shoot Emily a dangerous look and she only smirks in response.

“Thanks everyone,” Hotch says in dismissal and everyone breaks up to return to their preferred in-flight activities.

Reid cracks open a well worn Chaucer novel, Morgan slips on his favorite pair of Beats headphones, and JJ and Rossi join Hotch towards the front of the plane to continue coordinating what will happen when they touch down in Wyoming.

You abruptly rise to your feet and shuffle towards the back of the plane where the coffee pot light blinks warm and invitingly. The coffee mugs clink as you pull one down from the locked cupboard overhead and pour yourself a fresh cup.

Emily sneaks up behind you and passes a subtle hand across the small of your back.

“Have I ever told you how good you look in blue?” She asks smoothly.

You cut her a sideways glance and ignore her as you tear open a packet of Splenda and pour it into your coffee.

“Oh c’mon,” she croons with a playful jab at your ribs. “I gotta be honest, I’m hot just thinking about it.”

Your eyes fly open and you take one step into her personal space, so close that you can feel her breath on your lips.

“Jesus, Emily!” you hiss. You glance over your shoulder and no one is looking in your direction. You grab her by the wrist and abandon your coffee on the counter to drag her further away towards the restroom. “You can’t just drop bondage books into my purse while we’re at work!”

Emily looks down the slope of her nose at you and licks her lips daringly. “Adds a little something to it though. Makes it all a little bit more naughty.”

A furious heat blazes across your cheeks as her tongue pops on the last syllable of the word naughty.

“There it is,” she says, lowering her voice. Her words are all feline as she speaks. “That basal instinct that comes with sex and the urge to explore the more clandestine parts of our hedonistic needs.”

You swallow, feeling her words slide over your skin and elicit goosebumps across your arms.

“Page 102,” she whispers in your ear before stealing your cup of coffee and sashaying back down the aisle towards her seat.

Blowing a strand of hair out of your face, you brace your hands against the counter and wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into. Are you wholly and utterly enamored by Emily? Yes. Have these last six months of secretly dating been the most exhilarating (and somewhat stressful hiding it from the team) experience ever? Also yes. She was brilliant and daring with a beautiful mind and body to match. Sometimes you just felt…inexperienced, but you loved exploring your sexuality with Emily. She introduced you to such fun and tantalizing behaviors in the bedroom. Hell, you’d never known pleasure like the kind Prentiss delivered. Just thinking about it sends a rush of heat through your core and you have to bite back the smile spreading across your lips.

“You look happy.”

You startle, smile fading instantly as you clutch your chest. “Christ, Morgan.”

He chuckled and reached over you to get a coffee mug. “Lost in a daydream, huh?”

You glance over his shoulder and see Emily taking a sip from your coffee and a small smile returns to your face. “Yeah,” you answer, letting your mind wander to whatever might be awaiting you on page 102. “Something like that.”

•

You heave a sigh of relief as you step out of the bathroom, a fluffy white towel wrapped around your body while you towel dry your hair with another.

This case had been a whirlwind, but at the end of the day the team had managed to save two women and brought the man responsible for their kidnapping to justice. It wasn’t often you got to see victims return home to their families. It was a victory unlike any other in your field of work.

On top of the win, you’d been able to spend more time working with Emily. Hotch had paired the two of you together to interview the families of the two young women who had been kidnapped. You’d learned a lot from watching Emily and Derek work together and Emily and JJ. Sympathizing without becoming overly attached, knowing what to say to avoid making someone angry, knowing what to do when someone inevitably gets angry because the situation is out of control and you’re the only one that can help bring them a modicum of peace. This was something Emily does with ease, likely the result of growing up under the tutelage of an ambassador.

You don’t even realize the smile curving at your lips as you think about Emily and the way the baby blue scoop neck she’d been wearing clung to the curve of her body.

A knock at the door causes you to jump and you stumble to the bed where the contents of your go bag are haphazardly strewn about.

“Just a second!” You call out as you search for something to throw on.

“It’s Emily!” Her voice is muffled behind the door.

You relax a little and stop frantically throwing your clothes about. Holding your towel tight to your chest, you cross the room and unlock the door.

When you open it, Emily flashes you a smile; her teeth white against her berry lipstick. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, the dark fringe framing the delicate arches of her cheekbones. You look down either side of the hall for signs of the team before pulling her into the room.

Emily chuckles as you close the door to the hotel room and lock it. She inclines her head to kiss you and you let her steal a quick kiss before you step back and point a finger at her.

“You have been extra flirty this week, what gives!”

Emily arches an eyebrow and huffs, though a smile still plays about her lips. “Damn, I knew I should’ve been insulting you instead of complimenting you!” She snaps her fingers and shakes her head. “That’s how you win the girl!”

You roll your eyes and smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s the sweetest. I guess I’m just not used to so much affection being directed my way. It’s—” You take a step towards her and reach for her hand to intertwine your fingers with hers. “It’s nice.”

You press a kiss to her lips and glance up at her dark eyes from beneath your lashes. “I like it when you’re nice.”

“Yeah?” Emily asks. Her lips brush against yours as she speaks, “And what if I wasn’t so nice?”

Your brow furrows at the question and when you meet her gaze again it’s filled with lust as her eyes study your body.

Your pulse quickens as your mind flits back to just before you showered. As you’d pulled out your toiletries kit from your go-bag, the evocative book Prentiss had subtly gifted you had fallen out onto the floor. You’d forgotten you’d hidden it beneath all of your clothes deep inside your go bag the minute you’d keyed into your hotel room. It hadn’t been until you noticed the steam rolling out into the bedroom that you'd forgotten you’d already turned on the shower. You’d just gotten so absorbed in the outrageously complicated positions and knottings of ropes around limbs and wondering where she’d stumbled upon it.

A thud pulls you back to the present and your gaze drops down to your bare feet where Emily dropped her go-bag.

“Do you want to know what I packed?” She asks, her voice taking on a feline quality.

You swallow as you stare down at the bag and images of page 102 flash across your mind’s eye. Biting the inside of your lip, you nod and feel heat pool inside your belly as Emily smiles at you wickedly.

You gasp into Emily’s mouth as she steps forward and captures your lips with hers. Her hands clasp either side of your face as she pulls you in closer and your hands instinctively wrap around her waist.

You taste her vanilla chapstick as your tongue slips between her lips and she chuckles against your mouth as she walks you back towards the bed. When your legs bump up against the mattress, you allow yourself to fall back onto the bedspread; sliding your legs up and around Emily’s ass to pull her down on top of you. Her lips find the corners of your mouth before trailing down the column of your throat before pausing to suckle the top of your breast. Your right leg stays hooked around her waist and you pull her in closer as she pulls aside the towel and sucks your nipple into her mouth.

You moan as she teases the taut peak while her hand moves to palm and tweak the other between her slender fingers.

“Were you thinking about me?” She asks, voice husky as she releases your aching nipple. “In the shower?”

She rubs the pad of her thumb over the swollen area in slow, teasing circles and you whimper out a stilted, “Yes.”

Emily hums satisfactorily as she presses her lips against the soft flesh of your breast. She leans back and pulls the towel away from your body, exposing the rest of your bare skin now pebbled with goosebumps. Her dark hair falls over her shoulder as she tilts her head to admire the curves of your body and when her gaze drops to your core, you can’t help but feel the steady pulse deep inside of you drum harder and she hasn’t even touched you yet. You bite your lip and rock your pelvis back into the mattress to try and assuage the ache, but it only makes you that much more aware.

“You’re glistening for me,” she says, her lips curving into a sinful smile.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You challenge, though it’s extremely hard to keep your composure.

Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow and you know there’s no escaping whatever she has planned for you as she turns to scoop her bag off the floor.

You lick your lips as she reaches into the bag and your eyes widen as she withdraws several coils of black satin cords.

“Page 102?” You ask.

She smirks in turn, “If you’re still game.”

You nod, feeling excitement stir in your belly. “I am.”

“Then just lie back,” she says, “and relax.”

With soft, knowing hands she guides you into a kneeling position with your legs spread wide. The air is cool against your slick heat and you stir impatiently as she weaves the cords in and around your calves and thighs, binding them together so you’ve no choice but to sit back on your heels.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” You ask breathily, your chest already heaving with want.

Emily doesn’t lose focus as she threads the cord around your wrist and tethers it to each ankle, but her berry colored lips curve into a smile. “Would you believe me if I said the internet?”

The laugh you breathe out ebbs into a moan as Emily pulls the knot tight, drawing your wrists down and forcing your chest out. Your breasts ache to be felt by her and a needy whimper eks past your lips as she takes a measured step back to admire her handiwork.

You ought to feel vulnerable, spread out and exposed like this; but you only feel wanted and desired. That isn’t hunger in Emily’s eyes as the deep brown of her gaze admires your figure. No, it’s more than that, an all consuming reverence and you know that she’s about to worship at the altar of your body.

You rock back on your heels and whimper as the bonds tighten around your legs, sending a shiver of need up the length of your spine.

“Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to come fuck me breathless.”

A daring challenge enters Emily’s eyes. Without breaking eye contact with you, her hands tug at the belted waist of her trench coat. As the garment comes loose and falls about her ankles, a throbbing pulse beats deep in your pussy.

A black lace teddy hugs her figure, accentuating the muscular curve of her waist. The ribbed framing pushes her tits up and all you want is to press your lips against the soft skin of her breast and taste her, but that’s not what surprises you most of all.

You swallow and feel your breathing increase as Emily’s elegant fingers trace the leather straps of a harness down to where a thick, purple strap-on is fastened against her pubic bone. She curves her fingers around the shaft and pumps it gently.

“I think you’ll be more than breathless when I’m done with you.”

She kneels on the bed and crawls slowly towards you. You squirm beneath the binds and watch a devilish grin form upon her face as she presses herself up to kiss you. Your mouth automatically opens for her and as she presses her lips against yours, you naturally fall back into the pillows stacked against the headboard. You feel the heat of your desire slick down your inner thigh and you simper against her mouth as you feel your arousal mounting without her even laying a hand on you.

Emily’s lashes flutter as she glances from you to your slick cunt. “Are we ready?”

You bite your lip and nod resolutely, a needy, “Yes,” gliding off your tongue.

Emily slides one finger into your core and you grind against the movement. Slowly, she pushes in a second and then a third. You take a sharp inhale of breath as you adjust to her fingers stretching you, but there’s very little resistance from how wet you already are.

“God, you’re incredible,” she whispers as she slowly begins to glide her fingers in and out of your core, making sure to curve just right against the soft spongy cleft within you. Each pump of her fingers against that sensitive spot sends electricity through your veins and you can’t fight the moans she easily elicits from you. The pace is wickedly torturous and you need more. You crave more. You rock against her hand, though your movement is restricted by the binds she so expertly wove.

When her thumb begins to circle your clit, your brain dissolves into nothing more than TV static as your body becomes a live wire under her electric touch.

You feel your pleasure mounting, a wave cresting higher and higher beneath her undulating hand. A furious heat blossoms in your chest and tears through your entire being as your heart pounds against your ribcage. You try to stifle the moans erupting from your throat, but it’s hard to control any part of your body as your muscles go rigid and your orgasm rips through you. The cords stretch as you pull against the power of your climax and before you can even catch your breath, she takes to one knee, positions herself up against your core, and slams the strap into you.

You rear forward and bite into the flesh of her breast to keep from screaming out as the strap fills and stretches you. Stars dot the corners of your vision as she grabs the headboard behind you and uses it to propel her hips forward, driving it in deeper with each thrust. Before you know it, you’re climaxing again, but she doesn’t relent. It isn’t until she wrenches a third orgasm from you, that she finally slips out and catches you as your spent body falls forward against her.

Her thumbs splay across your cheeks as she praises you for taking her so well. She presses tender kisses all over your face as she loops her arms around your waist to undo the ties binding your wrists. As soon as they’re free, you reach up and pull her face to yours, kissing her fervently.

You stop and rest your forehead against hers. “So that was—?”

She nods, smiling. “Page 102, yeah.”

You lick your lips and nod, confirming the information. “And how many pages are in that book?”

“About 200.”

“Let’s keep reading it.”

She flashes you a grin. “Yeah?”

You kiss her again. “Definitely.”

She helps untie the remaining cords and slowly helps you stretch out your sore and aching limbs. She massages lotion scented with jasmine deep into your muscles and you groan languidly as she digs into knots you didn’t even know you had.

After wiping you down, she calls for fresh sheets from housekeeping and helps you dress in your favorite pair of sweatpants and borrowed FBI academy sweatshirt. You’d stolen it long ago and she’d never asked for it back.

You sit in the lounger in the corner of the room and watch as she changes into her own comfortable clothing and hides away the evidence of what you’d just done away in to her go bag; the strap already washed and dried. When housekeeping comes, she strips the sheets and remakes the bed and you just watch with a lazy smile plastered to your face.

“I can feel your eyes on me,” she says teasingly.

“I like watching you,” you respond easily.

“Well, why don’t you come crawl in between these sheets and choose something to watch on Netflix.” She pulls your laptop out of your backpack and places it on the bed. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

And so you stand up and crawl into bed. You power on your laptop and choose an early 2000s rom-com and as Emily clambers into bed beside you and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you in to nestle against the crook of her body, you know there isn’t anywhere else you’d rather be than in this bed, sharing these moments with her…even if you were on a case.

But you’d worry about that later.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Undercover Challenge 🕵️

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of March AND April, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including someone undercover using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.

There are prompts below the cut, so keep going!

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

General Prompts 🔍

Characters go undercover as a married couple.

A goes undercover as an escort to gain intel on B.

A feigns distress while undercover and is surprised when B saves them.

A goes undercover as a sex worker. B is shocked by their sexual persona.

Halloween masks offer the perfect opportunity to snoop on your coworkers.

A is excelling at their undercover work... until B shows up, also undercover.

Character goes undercover to a mystic who immediately identifies them as a spy.

A struggles with the more psychopathic aspects of their undercover work. B doesn't.

Character becomes close with their agent handler... they've never felt so cared for before.

Character is an investigative journalist trying to learn about the inner workings of the BAU.

It would be a lot easier to pretend if Character wasn't actually in love with their partner.

A thinks they've successfully tricked B... when B leans forward and speaks directly into their wire.

Character is surprised when their undercover partner is very good at pretending to be in love with them.

A becomes worries when B gets injured on an undercover mission that they were supposed to go on instead.

Character goes undercover as a stripper. This is how everyone learns they already knew how to pole dance.

Characters are both undercover, but think the other is in the organization they're investigating. They learn nothing.

Anything else you can think of!

Dialogue Prompts 🔍

"It's not real." / "It feels real."

"You should dress like that more often."

"You look... different." / "That's kind of the point."

“Did you really think this was going to work on me?”

“Your diamond ring is fake.” / “So is the engagement.”

"Maybe in another universe, I could’ve been different."

"You haven't even scratched the surface of my skillsets.”

“I’m just acting.” / “Oh? So you can make your heart race on command?”

“We should focus on the mission.” / “I’m trying, but you’re making it very difficult.”

“I know you have to go undercover, but do you really have to dress like that?” / “No, but I look good, don’t I?”

Rules

Your fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I collect both! You can also tag “#mentioningmargins”

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed. Please also include some indication of rating if it is NSFW.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post. For xReader fics, PLEASE specify if your reader is Female, Male, or Gender Neutral.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will (hopefully) be posted around April 30 If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy writing!

[heartstringsduet]

Seven Sentence Sunday + Inspiration Weekend

agent edition. 🔎

Happy Sunday everyone <3 Time to tease this collaboration with @welcometololaland with CIA agent TK Strand and the handler and (hot) voice in his ear Carlos Reyes.

The silence on the other end of the line is filled up by a lone honking car idiotically braving the drive over sparklers and around drunk guys starting fireworks from their hands.

“Okay, no party I guess. But, seriously, you don’t have to stay up,” TK continues, hoping to get Monarch to talk again. “I’m fine to enjoy a moment of me-time in the morning.” 

Thinking of how that might have come off, TK thinks about explaining himself, but then decides against it. Not like it’s not true most mornings.

“All of this is part of my job,” Monarch retorts, ignoring the innuendo. “I’m going to be with you anytime you’re awake.”

A grin splits TK’s face, the first of the night. “Woooow.”

“What?”

“That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. You really don’t need to lay it on this thickly. We don’t want HR to have to get involved.”

“That’s not what I…Nevermind.”

OPEN TAG &

@carlossreaders @annoyingcloudearthquake @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @future-tense

@paperstorm @strandnreyes @henrygrass @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@lemonlyman-dotcom @theghostofashton @ladytessa74 @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @neverblooms

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @alrightbuckaroo @decafdino @liminalmemories21

@tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter @literateowl @reyesstrand

@butchreyes @corsage @honeybee-taskforce @orchidscript

@never-blooms @irispurpurea @everlastingday @theghostofashton

@nisbanisba @bonheur-cafe @certifiedflower @firstprince-history-huh @denizoid

@nancys-braids @chicgeekgirl89 @ironheartwriter @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@rangersoup @the-126-family @carlos-tk @ladyknight1512 @onswiftshorses

[the-golden-comet]

✨🌺 Seven Sentence Sunday 🌺✨

Happy Sunday, everyone! Thank you for a writing share here @theink-stainedfolk ! I’m back with another Seven Sentence dialogue from ITROG. Hope you enjoy! 💫

“I’ll take that as a ‘nei,’ then.”

“What do YOU think, asshole?” Tyrell barked back into the speakstone. “Gods, do you have to be so smug all the damn time?”

“Uhhhh, já? Don’t see why not.” Gustav shrugged.

Short and sweet sour, to say the least 😂

Leaving the tag +open as always to whoever wants to join. Have a great week! 💛✨

[prince-kallisto]

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ Ahhh thank you very much for your reply! You worded a lot of things I was trying to say much clearer- so thank you lots 😆💖

It’s very funny how some parts of the EN fandom has such strict, self-imposed views on the Yuu’s, and the “canonicty” of…OCs lol. When TWST is honestly very freeing with their gender norms and their MC. Honestly, I feel bad for the future Pomefiore MC already- I feel like no matter what, there would be no winning -v- But I’m really excited for their future concept!!

😆💖🐦‍⬛ I’m a Crowley yume, and I’m always gushing over ever line he says and taking it romantically. But that’s just me, and I know the game isn’t an Otome. It may feed us some fanservice both in and out of game (ie merch), but it won’t be an Otome. So it’s upsetting that a small yet vocal portion of the fandom are demanding it to be one for their one ship, while also disrespecting their fellow male and NB shippers in the fandom 🤷 female, male, or NB Yuu is still Malleyuu- but again, it’s for our imaginations, not a romance for the official manga to depict. It’s…ironic that a lot of these same exact accounts were criticizing a small group of BL fans who complained a “girl Yuu was getting in the way of their ship,” while they turn around and demand a girl Yuu for a “valid” Malleyuu lmao

😆💖 if you ever write an essay, I’d love to read it! I almost wanted to rant about it myself, but I knew I’d get off topic if I rambled too much in one post 🤣 I don’t understand why conversations about more diverse romance are always shut down. We ARE making our own- it’s just a shame that’s there’s very little support for them from bigger communities! And even in communities that are kinder, whenever a male or NB fan asks for recommendations, we’re always directed to completely non-romantic games just because the player character is neutral 🤷 while I’m grateful nonetheless, it goes to show how little there is out there for us male/NB fans of romance or “otome” style games. I really love the many routes, art styles, and types of romances in Otome, and I’ve yet to seen in replicated in a more gender-inclusive format. Maybe one day! 💖

I think in regards to fanfic, the main issue I have with self-insert or gender neutral fanfics is that there’s often still descriptions of a character left behind, usually afab descriptions. When everything is fully tagged, I don’t mind as much, but it can be a whiplash otherwise. This can also happen with descriptors in a self insert like…blonde hair or something, which unless it was tagged, is certainly NOT a characteristic everyone has

😭 ANXJHD. Yeah the whole Yuuka situation is so odd. I remember a lot of excitement when she was first revealed because, girl Yuu. But now that YUUNA is released, well I’m seeing some amazing yuri fanart between the two 😆💖🌷 but again, I’ve seen several cases (surprisingly???) of Yuuna being put on a pedestal for “being more of a woman” compared to Yuuka, which is so icky. I’m happy for the femme rep, but PLEASE do not equate this to the “first real girl” rep 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I tend to lean towards a femme style for myself irl (I like to be cute 🫡), and I think I just got so upset over the situation not only for the Yuuka treatment but the sudden dysphoria LMAO 😭😭😭

Ahh random note, but I’m always very fond of the Harveston event lines about Epel. A picture of his grandma in her youth looked EXACTLY like him- just in a dress. And all the other boys complimented the photo, mistaking her for Epel. When Epel was confused about what photo they were talking about, I believe Jade said “the one where you’re wearing a dress.” There was never any blubbering over the mere idea of Epel wearing a dress- it was just a charming photo that they thought was Epel in a dress 🤷

Idk it’s just moments like those that really make the twst world feel comforting that way 😆 the world is very diverse and lively, and that fact is cemented in the way that the game Yuu is genderless. All these “rules” and expectations in the EN fandom are completely contrary to the spirit of the game.

I loved reading your ramble! It was super enlightening and it made me happy to read- thank you for reading my long rant as well! ☺️💖🐦‍⬛ I’m really grateful that me and my nonbinary sona has been really accepted in my local community, I’ve never once felt unwelcome in these spaces. But when I gaze across the vast desert that is the rest of twst social media…I learn that even a cool girl like Yuuka is controversial 🤣🤣

Ahh these are the sort of topics I don’t know how to word well in English , so forgive me if I have roundabout explanations for things 😆 this is a bit of a vent, I apologize again for any mistaken words on anything 💦

But I guess I’m just a little disheartened by the EN fandom- particularly with the whole manga Yuu situation. I adore all the Yuu’s, I love all the Yuu OCs that this amazing and creative fandom has designed.

But I’m seeing an…over exaggeration? Or pedestal put onto the Scarabia Yuu, Yuuna Oujou, and the way some people have discussed the manga Yuu’s have made me a little uncomfortable.

I’ve seen some people be like “finally! A girl Yuu for the manga!” Or “finally! A Yuu who presents herself as a woman!” (This is way different than a celebration of a femme Yuu btw).

? Yuuka, the Savanaclaw Yuu, IS a woman. Some people have been claiming that she’s “hiding her gender” in the all-boy’s school, or “downplaying” her gender, and how they’re so happy that Yuuna is “unapologetically a woman.”

But Yuuka, even in her previous world, has ways presented as a bit more masc- a very bifauxnen, cool girl type of character who is resolute in her strength because of her judo experience. A translation of the manga I read even has her referring to herself as a “ordinary school girl.” It’s just her own personal style of presenting herself. She also exercises in a sports bra! The only troubles she has is the troubles ALL Yuu’s have: that they’re magicless and aren’t meant to be here at this school and this WORLD.

And frankly, it’s uncomfortable that I’ve seen so many people in the fandom act as if feminine style is the only valid way to present as a woman, the implications that Yuuka is not a woman from the way she chooses to dress or cut her hair.

I’m so so happy that people find joy in a very femme presenting Yuu- I love Yuuna just as much! But when the conversation begins turning into…implying femininity is the only way to be/present as a woman, that’s not…it just feels awful. Yuuka was our first girl Yuu, Yuuna is the second. They present differently, but neither of them ever once worry about having the “hide” their gender. Please celebrate Yuuna’s style if that’s what you mean, instead of the “true girl” Yuu.

And on another note, there is the very popular and so far very likely theory of a “boy-girl” pattern in the manga Yuu’s- especially since all the Yuu’s so far have been the opposite gender as the Disney villains of each dorm. Meaning, the theory is that a male Yuu is likely for Diasomnia.

And I’m seeing a very vocal crowd dismissing the idea of male Yuu in the Diasomnia arc, that they want a girl, they’d hate a male Yuu, “Malleus forgot it’s not an Otome so it has to be a girl Yuu!”, they want a girl to be with Malleus “because [we] want Malleyuu.”

And again. It just feels so…alienating. Malleus and Malleyuu personally isn’t for me, but I’ve spent many years hopping around Otome and romance games in the past, and male and NB fans of these genres are frequently told that they don’t belong in the fandom, that these games cater to women.

But most conversations bringing up the possibility of romance games bringing in he/him, they/them or even customizable pronouns for the player are often shut down in most community spaces. Games like TWST, with an ambiguous MC and individual interactions with a character of your choice (ie the home screen voicelines)- or even games like Obey Me or the Arcana, are a rarity have made me really happy and feel really comfortable in the fandoms. Even if the game’s audience is mostly women, the MC/Yuu has *always* had an open identity.

So…the concept that Malleyuu is only WANTED by a portion of the fandom ONLY it’s a girl Yuu just brings back those same feelings again. Of course you may have whatever Yuu you want in your own personal Malleyuu ship!! But one girl Yuu can never represent the whole fandom, one male Yuu can never represent the whole fandom. So it’s strange there’s this complete outcry at the idea of a boy, and in turn of non-het Malleyuu ships in the fandom.

The manga and the Yuu’s have never shown a romantic relationship towards any character- any fanservicey moments still remain from the game, no matter the Yuu it’s aimed towards. And not just from Housewardens- all the characters have their bits of fanservice! But it never goes farther than that in the main story especially.

With the reveal of Yuuna, the EN fandom has been celebrating the diversity and openmindness of the world of twst, and how customizable your Yuu’s truly are. Yuu is…you! Yuu can be whoever you want. But it all falls apart when a portion of the fandom see Yuuna as the only valid girl Yuu, when the mere idea of a male Yuu for Diasomnia or for Malleyuu is bashed and hated.

Or you know what- the idea of male or even NB Yuu is bashed entirely every single time there’s a damn announcement for the manga. A while back, the Scarabia manga announcements were mistranslated in English, and the gender ambiguous language for Yuu was accidental turned into he/him (which turned out to be Yuuna). And the level of vitriol I saw over the idea of a male Yuu was so fucking disheartening. And now it’s happening all over again with a future Diasomnia manga.

Is the manga and their Yuu’s really a celebration of diversity in the EN fandom? It doesn’t feel that way, at all. Perhaps I’m just being self centered about this, but I’ve found myself increasingly upset about how vocal these two issues have been, and I wish some people could be more mindful about it

Apologies for my incoherency in this vent 💦💦💦💦💦 this is NOT hate toward Malleyuu or Yuuna fans as a whole- or towards anyone in fact. This is just a vent and a slight critique just certain parts of the fan bas

[okcoolthanks]

Hey remember that one time Ollie threw Alphonze through a navy base and ended up saving their asses?

I do (:

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hiya

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You walk with Andy towards the boutique. It feels strange. He doesn’t walk ahead of you like your mom always does, and you don’t have anything to drag with you. You still feel lost without the tank. You keep meaning to fix the tube only to find nothing more than your nose. 

He opens the door. You peek through the windows before you go through. It’s a nice place with curly lettering on the sign and colourful clothes on sleek black mannequins. You cling to your elbow as you look around at all the displays. 

“Hi, how are you doing today?” A young woman approaches you, all in black. She’s taller and slender and has wavy blond hair. “I’m Marlie. I can help you find anything you’re looking for.” 

“Oh, I don’t... I don’t know...” you murmur. 

Andy clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle. “Gotta be honest, I don’t either,” he says. “We’re a bit lost, I think. Clothes shopping.” 

“Right, well, you’re in the right place,” she smiles prettily. “We have all sorts here. Everything on trend. Any ideas? Inspo?” 

You look at Andy and his brows rise. He looks just as confused. “Um, how about, well, she likes Sabrina Carpenter.” 

“Ooo, me too,” she grins, “come with me, I’ll show you all the best pieces.” 

You can’t stop her before she has you by the hand. You glance back at Andy as he wears a sheepish expression. You remember what he said. Try to enjoy this. 

You look at Marlie. She’s probably around your age. You know she’s just doing her job but her demeanour makes her feel like a friend. 

She lets go of you and steps forward. She seizes a shirt from the table and unfolds it. “Hm, about your size.” She shows you the shirt; off the shoulder with a ruffle along the top. “That’s so cute.” 

“Oh, uh,” you touch your shoulders, “my bra...” 

“We sell strapless ones,” she offers. “But you don’t always need to wear one.” She pauses and peers toward Andy. You follow her gaze. He keeps his hands behind him as he leans in to check out the rack of sunglasses. He looks even more clueless than you. “If you think it’s okay with him.” 

“Oh, him?” You turn back to her. “I guess. He said... he said I could choose.” 

“Nice,” she shimmies excitedly, “I have so many ideas. 

She rushes around in a flurry as you trail her. She knows exactly where everything is. When she has an armful, she leads you into the back where the change rooms are. 

“I’ll let you try it all on.” She declares. “I’ve hung it in there for you, if you need help, there’s a bell inside.” 

“Oh, sure, I... thanks.” 

You’re not used to this. You were usually the one waiting outside the booth as your mom tried on her haul. You would sit on the bench and watch all the young girls like you; or not like you. They had friends. They were happy. 

You step in and close the door. You try on the first shirt and do your best to match it with a skirt. Neither cover you very much. The red checker halter matches the leather skirt with the zipper up the front. It’s nice but you’re not sure it’s for you. 

“Sweetie?” Andy’s voice makes you twitch. 

You spin and near the door. You put your hand on the clasp and hesitate. “Yeah? 

“You okay?” 

“Mhmm, I... I’m not sure about this.” 

“No? Well, why don’t you let me see? I’ll be honest,” he offers. 

Your eyes round. You don’t know if he should see you like this. It will be embarrassing if it looks bad. 

“Well, er, I don’t know if it fits. And I don’t... I don’t wear this stuff,” you say. 

“I’m sure you look great. How can I know if I don’t see?” 

You stare at your reflection in the door. He brought you here, he’s helping cover the cost for now, and he’s being so patient. Your mother would be screeching at you. 

You slide back the lock. Slowly, you pull the door inward and shuffle out. You keep your head down. He’s quiet. 

You feel his gaze crawling over you. The air turns stagnant. You squirm. 

“It looks bad,” you sniff. 

“Honey, it looks... wow. You look so nice. I mean, the clothes fit you really well.” 

You dare to peek up at him and lift your brows, “really?” 

“Oh, yeah. Really good,” his cheeks tinge pink above his beard. Is he lying? 

“I don’t... I never... this isn’t what I usually get.” 

“Right, but... did you pick your clothes or did you just take what she gave you?” 

You shrug, “I guess... what she gave me.” 

“It’s not what I like. How does it make you feel?” He asks. 

You sway and turn around. You look in the mirror. You blink at your reflection. Your eyes stray and find his. The clothes make you feel strange but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel better. Maybe you can be normal. You might even be pretty. 

Well... 

You reach up and touch your hair and frown. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks. 

You flick your lashes at the threat of tears. You shake it off. 

“Nothing, it’s just...” 

“We can go to a salon? If you need a trim. Oh, and I don’t know, I was going to ask. I don’t really know about these things. Stupid man and all. But makeup? There’s a store—not that I think you need it but... I don’t know. Whatever you want or need.” 

“Makeup? I don’t know...how.” 

“They have videos, if you want to learn. Or we can ask at the store. Only if you want to,” he says. 

You look at him and try to smile. “Andy, you’re not stupid. You’re too nice.” You lower your eyes. “I’ll do whatever. Maybe... just look around? See if it’s... if maybe...” you face him. “just look. Is that okay?” 

“Sweetie, all I want is for you to be happy.” He insists. “So, you tell me what to do.” 

💗

The makeup store is even more intimidating. Foolishly, you thought the boutique was the hard part. This is so much worse. It’s so busy and everyone there is so pretty and perfect. Girls with glossy lips look at tubes of colour and the associates in their all-black attire float like swans as they move between customers and discuss their products. 

You can’t breathe as you skirt along the front aisle, turning to peer through the windows and contemplate escape. Andy says your name and gently touches your sleeve, “you okay?” 

“Ummmmm,” you look at him then all around. “I don’t know what I’m looking for.” You bring your fingers up to drag down your cheeks, your anxiety mounting. “And I—I—I don’t look like them.” 

“Like who?” He asks. 

“Those girls—women. They... they know what they’re doing. Oh, Andy, I don’t know,” you flutter your fingers then tug on your hair nervously. “I need my oxygen.” 

“Sweetie, just... breathe, okay? In... out...” He coaxes as he rubs your shoulder. 

You take a breath in then let it out. You gulp. He did come all the way here. You wring your hands and nod. 

“I’m sorry, I... I’m not used to everything. I’m sorry. I’m... a loser.” 

“Sweetie, what did I tell you about talking like that?” He girds. “You’re not any of those things you keep saying. You’re a special girl and you deserve special things. Just because you don’t know something, doesn’t mean you can’t figure it out, right?” 

“I... I guess,” you tuck your hands into your sleeves and make fists. Your press your knuckles to your chin. 

“You okay to wait here? I’ll go look for help.” He squeezes your shoulder. 

“Um, um, um,” you blink at him. “Sure, I can... wait.” 

He rubs with his thumb and reluctantly pulls away. He turns and strides away. He’s so tall, he can see over the shelves so easy, and he’s undeterred by the crowds or the noise. He’s normal. He’s strong. You’re not. 

You spin and nearly knock into another customer. You back up and sidle along to the corner, staring at the bottles of floral perfume. It’s not just that you don’t belong here, you don’t belong anywhere. That’s all too clear. 

“Oh, hello, hon,” a trill voice chirps at you, “you need some help?” 

You turn at the tall brunette as she approaches. Andy is behind her. He keeps a distance and nods at you. He’s there if you need him. 

“I’m Tilly,” she introduces herself, “I hear you’re looking to start fresh.”  

You stare at her and scrunch your lips. You drop your hands to your sides, “yes. Thank you. I... I don’t know anything about... about make up.” 

“Oh, my, that’s alright! Figuring it all out is the fun part,” she beams as she claps her hands together. “But oh my gosh, look at your skin. You’ve got the perfect complexion. What do you use?” 

“Well, I... I... use vaseline on my lips, they chap because of... erm, I used to have an oxygen tube, so... I got all dry around my nose...” you babble and cringe. “I just use shea butter on my skin.” 

“Shea is wonderful,” she praises. “We have some products with it if you want to add to your regimen but whatever you’re doing is working.” 

Your chest tickles and you smile, cheeks bulbing tightly, “really?” 

“Oh, you have this glow. You are radiant,” she hums and taps her chin. “Makes me think you don’t need much.” 

“Right, er, well. I wouldn’t know how to... use any of it.” 

“I can show you. How about we try it out and see? I’ll grab a few products and put them on for you, then you can make up your mind.” She suggests. 

“That’s.... that’s not too much?” You sway. 

“No, hon, come on. Oh, I love this. I just adore getting to show people new things.” She points you along the next aisle, “now, I’m thinking you probably don’t need a foundation, but we’ll do a tinted moisturiser as a base, to give you a bit more highlight. A tine dash of blush. I think just a stick, no powder...” 

She leads you around the store, weaving up and down as she plucks up products. You’re lost even as she explains each one. She takes you to a chair near a mirror and has you sit down with your back to it. You climb up as she lays out the samples. 

“First, we’ll start with the moisturizer,” she instructs. She dabs it around your face and spreads it with a tear drop sponge. “So, you said you used to have oxygen. Were you sick?” 

“Oh... yeah. But I’m better now,” you frown. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. It’s never fun, is it? I’ve got diabetes, my monitors right here,” she points to her belt as she grabs the next product. 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes. But we live. We survive,” she smiles. “I grabbed this liner, it’s very creamy, you see, it goes on very easy and you just need a quick swipe.” 

“Okay,” you say. You follow her direction to close your eye. 

“That man you’re with,” she gently touches yours face to stretch your eyelid. “He’s very nice.” 

“Yeah,” you agree dully. 

“He seems very concerned. Says he want you to be happy so you tell me if you don’t like it, okay?” She switches eyes. 

“I will,” you promise. 

She continues as you try not to wince. You’re not used to being touched by anyone but the doctors; they’re always so clinical. Or your mother; she’s always rough. She’s not. She’s tender as the plies her expertise. 

“Now, you ready to see yourself?” She asks as she caps the lip gloss. 

You bat your lashes, getting used to the coating on your lashes, “sure.” 

She turns you to the mirror. You stare at yourself. You look... like you but like someone else too. You lean in as you take in the subtle but noticeable difference. You sit back slowly, silently, and your eyes stray around the mirror. 

Your gaze meets Andy’s as he stands across the store. He perks up and smiles. He crosses the main aisle as he gives a wave. 

“Well, what do you think?” Tilly asks. 

“I... I like it. It’s... not too much.” 

“Oh, like I said, you’re so naturally pretty,” she says. “I’ll get you full-sized products and meet you at the till. That good?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Oh, I loved it,” she assures you. 

She gathers up the samples and leaves you. Andy approaches and clears his throat. You look at him as his eyes scour you. You wilt beneath his gaze. 

“I... it’s too much?” You gesture to your face. 

He shakes his head then hits his chest with his fist, “ahem. I... sorry, sweetie. You look... you look so good you took my breath away.” 

You make a face then laugh. That’s such a silly joke. You shake your head. 

“It’s the truth,” he chuckles. 

“Andy, you don’t have to lie,” you insist as you slide forward on the chair. He steps past the mirror and offers his hand. You take it as you get down. “Thanks.” 

“I’m not lying. Sweetie,” he squeezes your hand before he lets go. “You look amazing. Once you get into some of your new clothes, I’m sure you’ll feel it.” 

“Oh, uh, maybe,” you curl your shoulders. “She said she was bringing everything to the counter.” 

“Right,” he reaches for his back pocket. 

“But if it’s too much--” you show your palms. 

“Nothing’s too much for you,” he grins and waves you toward the front of the store. “Come on.” 

[biowho]

Spin this wheel to get a Dragon Age Valentine

[nekoyin]

so I saw this at class, did it, thought I posted it, turns out I didnt so TAKE TWO

ty for the tag <3 I'm gonna do my husband of almost a decade now Poe Dameron

1. Was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made them your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you? lowkey fell in love with that pretty ass face from the start THEN HE OPENED HIS MOUTH AND WAS SASSY??? also love me a man who'd punch a person in power that's hot 

2. What’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo? uh uh uh yes (if I had to choose, his passion and want to free people from the First Order/the fact he's a revolutionary)

3. What's the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo? the fact he's not real and kissing me rn :( (and that he risks his life a lot of the time to try and save as people as he can, it's noble, but it worries me ;;;;)

4. If you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them? I love you. I'll always support you no matter what UNLESS YOU GO ONE SOME STUPID SUICIDE MISSION DON'T DIE I'LL CRY :(((

5. What's the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo? I think that Poe being a flirt is a thing, but I don't see him being like this fuckboy that lays with people and doesn't care/forgets names afterwards. He seems the type to remember everyone's names, whether or not he is friends with them enough to sleep with them if that makes sense. 

6. Is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert? Extrovert 

7. Describe your Blorbo in 3 words. pretty, brave, dumb (affectionate)

8. If your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life? Yes. Absolutely. He seems the protective type so I am SAFE

9. Do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo? THEY ARE SO FED UP WITH ME YAPPING ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM LMFAO 

10. Is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely? Nah bro i lowkey like my men a lil insane so

11. Do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer? Mixed. Cuz I like angst, but I need a happy ending. 

12. Do you ship your Blorbo with any character? ME DUH (and kinda Finn but I relate to Finn a lot so what that say bout us)

13. If your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?  YAH he was my introduction to Oscar Isaac

14. Would you still love your Blorbo if they were real? YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. HOW BAD. I AM TRYING TO GET A REAL LIFE POE DAMERON TO DATE. PLEASE UNIVERSE ONE CHANCE ONE-

15. Is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon? Yes imo and it makes me so so sad :(

16. If you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be? I think I'd change the fact that he tried to get back with Zorii, I don't mind her existence, but she was literally abusive POE BABY WHY ARE YOU ASKING TO KISS HER YOU SHOULD BE KISSING ME :(((

17. When you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo? Oh I was torn between him and Kylo initially, but I knew I'd like Poe more for longer… didn't really expect this long though HAHAHA

18. Do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo? I TRY TO BUT HE'S TOO POPULAR :( People are like “oh I'm his biggest fan/spouse” and I'm like GET OUT YOU JUST JOINED THIS FANDOM IVE BEEN HERE SINCE DAY ONEEEEE /hj

19. Has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry? Thinking about him can make me cry. I'm trying to write a fic rn that the PREMISE made me cry (I’m sensitive)

20. Do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now? I'VE BEEN HERE ALMOST TEN YEARS BABY IT AIN'T EVER STOPPING

uhh idk who to tag but @latenightbrawler pookie look at the thoughts about my husband

20 Questions

BLORBO ASKS GAME

reblog if you’d like people to send you asks about your Blorbo

was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made them your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you?

It was immediate. Watching Steven flounder then discovering the tragedy that is Marc. I started on the show, then began collecting the comics.

what’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo?

I loved the representation of DID, autism and childhood trauma.

what’s the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo?

We barely got any Jake in the show, and he’s such a fantastic character in the comics. Comic Jake is the only way I can imagine him. Moustache and all.

if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

Not a thing. He’d get a damn hug.

what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

I think every adaptation is unique to that person and they’re wonderful for sharing. I’m a hoe for every crumb I’m not even sorry.

is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert?

Depends who’s fronting. Steven’s an ambivert: extroverted to avoid the feeling of loneliness, introverted in his hobbies and day-to-day. Marc’s a huge introvert and doesn’t like many people, how Frenchie puts up with him I don’t know. Jake is a natural extrovert, it comes easy to him to find a friend in anyone.

describe your Blorbo in 3 words

Damaged hot mess

if your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life?

Most likely… kinda. Squinting real hard at you, Khonshu.

do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo?

My partner can’t get away from my obsession. My brother brought me the same MK action figure Marc's holding in the asylum. It was really unexpected and touching. They let me drag them all over the city stopping in as many comic stores as I could visit.

is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

Mean to animals would make me very sad.

do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer?

Every damn day of the week.

do you ship your Blorbo with any character?

I ship him with anyone and everyone, it’s such a problem. I love all ships in all shapes and sizes. All the new ships coming out of Marvel Rivals has sustained me well lately.

if your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?

Oscar Isaac is one of the best humans alive. I love his face, his personality—everything. He made it easy to love the characters he plays.

would you still love your Blorbo if they were real?

Probably. I’d always be rooting for him that’s for sure.

is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon?

Kind of. How they handled Jake suucked.

if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

Make comics Jake canon!

when you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo?

I didn’t expect to go down as bad as I did. It wasn’t until I started writing him in 1x1 & group roleplays was where I truly fell down the hole.

do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo?

No gatekeeping allowed in this house! I am thrilled anytime more people discover MK by any means. It’s so much fun seeing new people arrive and interact with the fandom.

has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry?

Not a fanfic, but episode 5 made me ball. Hit close to home. I’m not one to cry easily so have yet to find a fanfic that will.

do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now on?

Probably, I still have a lot more to write and explore.

Questions posted below empty for easy copy paste:

was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made them your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you?

what’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo?

what’s the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo?

if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert?

describe your Blorbo in 3 words

if your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life?

do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo?

is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer?

do you ship your Blorbo with any character?

if your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?

would you still love your Blorbo if they were real?

is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon?

if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

when you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo?

do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo?

has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry?

do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now on?

Inspired by the wonderful @psycheetamore Hitting a few others I'd love to see do this! @mystra-midnight @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @faretheeoscar @moonbeammist @therapardalis @weheartchrisevans @silvermoon343

[knightforflowers]

a couple days late, but happy 10th anniversary to the adventure zone!! <3

[greywoe]

child ward in search of belonging indulges in juvenile fantasies as a coping mechanism. sad!

[pixlokita]

Huh

[mermaidslabyrinth]

First off thank you @vhagar-balerion-meraxes and @dr-aegon for tagging me. This one made me think and i enjoyed filling it out. 🌈

What's the origin of your blog title? I’ve always thought mermaids were such fun fantasy beings. And really fun to believe in. Plus they’re my sister’s favorite (I’m a fairy girl…idk why I didn’t pick fairy but it’s who I am now). Labyrinth is a roll over from my old blog name (lost-in-lokis-labyrinth) but was just too much so I just took labyrinth. Plus, I really like Ariadne from the myth.

OTP(s) + shipname: Serena/Darien (I don’t think they have a ship name. Sailor Moon; old school dub [Forever sad my tapes got ruined 😭]), Kylux (Kylo Ren & Hux [Star Wars]), Harringrove (Billy Hargrove & Steve Harringston [Stranger Things]), Daemond (Aemond & Daemon [House of the Dragon])

I like how the three people above me are like: Aegond 🥰. And I'm over here like: ...Daemond 😃.

Favourite colour: Lavender

Song stuck in your head: Boss Bitch -Doja Cat (I had to look up the title and who sang it). I may have been watching a video about Daemon I have on my phone with this song.

Weirdest habit/trait: I am very particular where things go in the fridge and freezer. Like only liquids on the top shelf in the fridge. Nice, neat, organized. My mom asked the other day about it when she caught me moving a container to the second shelf. I said “yes, it drives me nuts.” Also my room, I’ll know if something is out of place. Even if it looks like it was haphazardly put there.

Hobbies: Writing, reading, rewatching shows from my younger years, making memes of my HotD OMC for my Pinterest boards, got back into drawing

If you work, what's your profession? I take care of my mother. And help out with my nephews.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Be paid to travel or do nothing.

Something you're good at: Organizing. Cleaning. Set me loose in a home and will make every thing tidy and clean (except the bathtub…idk why but no).

Something you collect: Pins. Mostly Disney, Sailor Moon, cryptid, pride. Monster High Dolls (og) but only if I find them out shopping at thrift stores.

Something you forget: Simple tasks. If I don’t write it down I can get side tracked…

What's your love language? I just like to help or get something for someone.

Favourite movie/show: Ever After, I can watch that at any point in the movie. // Roseanne (88-97 series), season 9 sucked but there were a handful of good episodes in it.

Favourite food: Falafels and naan. With baklava for dessert.

Favourite animal: Elephant. They are the first thing I want to see at the zoo. I know it’s frowned upon now but I am so happy I got to ride one as a child.

What were you like as a child? Odd. Very imaginative. I could easily play by myself. Ornery (my grama called me that a lot, others just called me a brat). I was a spirited child and didn’t back down easily.

Favourite subject at school: English

Least favourite subject: Science tied with math (terrible teachers). Honorable mention: PE

What's your best character trait? I’m willing to listen. I may not give good or any advice, but I will listen to what you have to say.

What's your worst character trait? I can be quite stubborn. In my family we call it the ‘[Grampa’s last name] Gene’. Bc it seemed like everyone related to that side is beyond stubborn.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? That I could travel to places I would love to see.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? I think it would have been fun to meet my mom when she was in her twenties to early thirties. Like just before she had me. She was such a lively, fun person. The stories I’ve heard, I’d like to see them first hand.

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS

@lonnson thank you so much for the tag!🫶

What's the origin of your blog title? It's an oxymoron-ish rendition of one of my childhood nicknames (Snow White).

OTP(s) + shipname: Hannigram (Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, NBC Hannibal); Mary and Matthew Crawley, Downton Abbey (no ship name afaik); Farawyn (Faramir and Eowyn, The Lord of the Rings); Tomgreg (Tom Wambsgans and Greg Hirsch, Succession); Aegond (Aegon II and Aemond Targaryen, Fire&Blood/House of the Dragon)

Favourite colour: green

Song stuck in your head: The Line by Twenty One Pilots

Weirdest habit/trait: refusing to do certain things just on principle, without any kind of rational explanation (it doesn't happen often but some of those principles are very silly)

Hobbies: travelling, reading, writing poems, listening to music, watching movies/TV shows, making collages that I pretty much never post

If you work, what's your profession? I head a division of the Fares and Services department in a public transportation company.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Project management (it's pretty close to my current job, so I'm fine in that regard).

Something you're good at: planning events and mediating conflicts

Something you hate: having to defer to stupid people's judgment

Something you collect: chopsticks

Something you forget: buying salt🤣 For some reason I'm always caught off guard when I run out of it and then go without for a solid week because my brain just can't process the fact that the salt is gone.

What's your love language? Problem solving.

Favourite movie/show: The Lord of the Rings, Love Actually, Inception (movies); Hannibal, Succession (shows)

Favourite food: OMG, I don't even know! I'm such a foodie that I can't really choose.

Favourite animal: cats

What were you like as a child? Very Hermione Granger-like.

Favourite subject at school: English and history

Least favourite subject: PE (mainly because the teacher was an effing tyrant)

What's your best character trait? I'm responsible and dependable.

What's you're worst character trait? I procrastinate way more than I should.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I'd like to be more certain about the future (big freakin' detail, right).

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? My maternal grandfather who died before I was born. He was a remarkable man; plus I've been told time and time again that I resemble him a lot, often in really uncanny ways.

No pressure tags: @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @very-straight-blog @autumnrose11 @heretherebebookdragons

[drawerbread]

hey, catch this! *throws more barista!Gideon sketches at you*