#I'll take more of these people want to send em?

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[novemberheart]

{overview} you make some friends- and some not friends

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, Simon being a grump, cursing, short chapter, mostly some “world-building”, Fem reader, Simon heavy chapter

Chapter 8 <- Chapter 9 -> Chapter 10

Simon woke you up the next morning, with a rough series of pats on your back. You groaned curling around yourself, the smell of leather slowly filling up your senses.

“This day isn't going to fuck itself,” Simon grumbled. Your eyes opened groggily, sending him a glare.

“What does that even mean?” you croaked, forcing yourself to sit up. Simon bit back a smile at the sight of your bedhead. He was able to snap a picture as you stared off into space. He sent it to Johnny, who quickly made it his lock screen.

“Up, pup,” he commanded, getting up himself. He moved with much more ease, only wincing as he took a few steps forward. “Got a busy day,” he added. By the time his words settled in your ears, he had already made his way into his bedroom.

“Busy day?” you questioned to yourself as you brushed your teeth. “Where are we going?” you asked. Simon was able to shower, shave, and get dressed by the time you finished brushing your teeth and picking out an outfit.

“Something the omega committee planned. Breakfast in the park or some shite like that. Captain wants you to go.” he explained.

“I don't want to.” you began to whine.

“Ah, ah, ah don't start pulling that shite with me, it's not gonna work. Put your stompers on, and let's go.” he growled. You straightened up, a little worried at his tone. Why did he sound so angry? Regardless, you quickly did as you were told, grabbing your shoes out of the closet and following wordlessly behind him.

You wanted to ask him more about this ‘breakfast in the park’ thing but you refrained. Nervousness began to eat at you, as it would for most people when you were being thrown into a group of people you have never met. The omegas there have probably already formed cliques. Not that you weren't used to being the new person. You didn't quite feel as though you could tell the alpha next to you about it.

At least it was a pretty sunny day out.

The walk wasn't very far, and it wasn't exactly a park. It was near where Simon took you for a walk. There was a bit of a crowd already, sitting down on their own blankets. Simon pulled out a blanket that was tucked under his arm. “Look at me,” he instructed. “No reason for you to be nervous, yeah? They're lucky to have you, I think, I mean I don't really know you that well.” he huffed, causing you to giggle. “See the group behind me?” he asked. You peeked around him.

“Pink blanket?” you hummed. He hummed back.

“You steer clear of ‘em. They get into trouble.” he told, and you nodded your head in understanding. “I'll be right over there havin’ a cig, you go be a good girl and save me a scone, yeah?” he patted you with the blanket. You took it from him, watching as he headed past you, without a glance over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but felt much better about the situation. You guess Simon was much more tough love than you were used to. You stood for a moment surveying the area. People were cliqued up all right. You decided just to head in the opposite direction of the pink blanket gang.

You grabbed a plate off of one of the tables and decided on a cinnamon roll and a scone for Simon. You also grabbed a hot chocolate. You pulled off to the side eyeing the array of people. A particular group caught your eye. Two women and a man. They seemed approachable like they wouldn't shoot you down if you went up to them. Only one way to find out. You followed the natural path set up by blankets.

They stopped talking as you stood before them. “Hi.” You smiled, trying not to sound too shy. You introduced yourself in one breath waiting for them to make the next move.

“Hi, I'm Anais.” the one in the middle introduced herself first. She was sweet-looking, her glasses taking up most of her face and magnifying her eyes in an endearing way.

“I’m Jane.” the one to your right looked. She looked just as uncomfortable as you, her obsidian eyes darting around.

“Jonah.” the last one greeted. “You're welcome to join us.” he offered, which you quickly took them up on.

“The worst part is over.” Anais smiled, adjusting herself so she was sitting on her knees. “When did you get here?”

“Four days ago,” you replied.

“I got here six days ago,” Jane spoke up. Her voice was soft and brittle. You were tempted to give her a hug.

“Ah, so you know what it's like.” you smiled. “How long have you two been here?” you asked, spooning a piece of cinnamon roll into your mouth.

“Seven months,” Jonah answered.

“A little under three months for me,” Anais said.

“Nice. Do you like it here?” you questioned. You were hoping to get the dirt on people.

“Not really. You're lucky you're with big guy over there.” Anais said through bites of her toast. “Do you really have your own flat?” she questioned. Looks like you were going to be the one giving out dirt.

“Yeah it's pretty close to that. Where do you live?”

“In the barracks,” Anais said. “It's a room filled with bunk beds.”

“That sounds terrible.” you winced. “Do you get any privacy?”

“Not really. Unless it's during my heat.” she shrugged. “That's usually what happens when you're just bonded to an alpha, not a whole pack,” she explained. “I hope to get my pack one day. You're lucky you didn't have to work for yours.” she sighed. Your brows twitched.

“Anais,” Jonah whispered harshly. She just shrugged. How did she know anything about you and your pack? There was obviously something you weren't aware of.

“It's alright.” you soothed, giving Jonah a smile. “She’s technically right.” you sighed.

“I didn't mean it in a bad way.” Anais continued. “Just that you're lucky,” she added. You have been hearing that a lot lately.

“I know.” you agreed. You figured it was better to play along. Plus you seem to be lucky. “Did you get assigned here or?” you asked, turning over to Jane.

“Assigned.”

“Me too.” you replied.

“I know,” she whispered, causing you to furrow your brows again.

“Does everybody know?” you finally asked.

“You have been a hot topic,” Jonah admitted. You looked over your shoulder and suddenly became aware of the glances and peeks your way. Has everyone been staring at you this whole time? “Don't stress about it,” Jonah added.

“Yeah, you're literally a celebrity,” Anais added.

“I don't know if I want to be a celebrity.” you said finally.

“I’ll trade with you. I'm not really into guys, but I’d do it for fame.” Jonah chuckled, causing you all to laugh.

“I'll let you know after I finish my first week.” you snickered. An hour went by fairly fast. The group next to you joined into the conversation and soon you were a nice group of seven. Priya- she was the one you bonded to quickly. You started talking because she also was with a task force, her choice, on the sixth floor of your building.

She smelled like apples and lavender. Your mom smelled like lavender.

“How’d you do?” Simon asked. He stood up from the bench, eyeing you up and down. You certainly smelled happy. Your scent turned warm when you were happy. Your normal scent was freshly cut peaches paired with a chilled vanilla ice cream. Yet when you were happy it became a peach crumble straight out of the oven. He chewed the inside of his cheek, moving so he was upwind.

Before you had time to respond something caught his attention. “Come on, pup.” he urged. His hand rested on the back of your neck guiding you away from the scene. You had the sense of mind to not question him, which he was grateful for.

“Lieutenant Ghost.” A voice called from behind the two of you. He growled, stopping, but keeping a firm grip on you as he began to turn.

“Lieutenant Hale.” Simon mustered.

“So this must be the little lady I've been hearin’ so much about.” He was Southern, a charming drawl in his voice.

“She would be the one.” Simon affirmed. His hand reached down, grabbing your hip pulling you towards his side.

“Haven’t smelt something so sweet in a long time. You remind me of home.” Lieutenant Hale smiled at you. You remained straight-face, your omega beginning to feed off of the signals Simon was sending out. “How have you been, L.T.? Heard you took a nasty tumble.” Hale clicked his tongue.

“Fine.” Simon replied bluntly.

“Well, I would hope so. Medicine like that could heal any man.” Hale smirked, his eyes still locked on you.

“Got that right,” Simon said back. The men were keeping pleasantries- probably for your sake. Simon gave your hip a squeeze. “See you around, Hale.” The hand on the back of your neck returned, turning you away from the scene.

“I look forward to it. Both of you,” he added, tipping his head towards you. You remained silent. When you got far enough away you looked back over your shoulder. Two of the girls from the pink blanket rushed over to him, nuzzling their way under his arms.

His eyes were still on you.

“You did good, pup.” Simon complimented once you got away from the crowd.

“Thank you.”

It was two hours past your normal bedtime. The first two nights here you were so exhausted you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. The third night you fell asleep on the couch with everyone.

It felt like the first night here.

You can still remember the last night you slept alone. It was the night before your mom left. The night she left you remember her sneaking her way into your bedroom, holding you as tight as she could. You could still feel her breath on your cheek as she breathed you in. You didn't question it at the time.

You wish you had.

That day your grandparents came down to help out and you slept in the guestroom with them- terrified of being left again. Then you got step-siblings, then roommates at the omega holding house.

You scrunched your eyes tightly.

Your room was too dark. Too quiet. Too cold. It had yet to be drenched in your scent, the room still smelling like paint and carpet cleaner. You wondered if Johnny or Kyle would mind you crashing their room. You're sure they wouldn't, but you didn't want to set yourself up for rejection. You could always crash on the couch with Simon. You didn't want him to think you were too needy.

You suddenly heard movement outside your door. You stilled, pulling the covers further up your body. Your door opened very hesitantly. John carefully poked his head in. You closed your eyes as much as you could to make it look realistic. He trained his eyes on your form for a moment before he quietly shut the door. The realization suddenly dawned on you.

He was checking on you.

You weren't exactly sure why he was checking on you. To see if you were still awake? To see if you were comfortable? Or maybe to make sure you hadn’t escaped.

Either way, it meant one thing:

You weren't alone.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 10 will be in two days! See you then!

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated🧡

[bokutosbiceps]

bodyguard boyfriend

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~900 words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit, cursing

a/n: okay, this was heavily inspired by @pileofmush because she wrote such a beautiful match up for me + zoro that i started to think about how some of my fav boys would be protective over their s/o !! this is more comedic than romantic but i had such a good time writing it :3

18+ MDNI

eustass kid isn't afraid to straight up tell someone to fuck off. he’ll sneer at them through gritted teeth as he stands behind you, keeping a protective hand on the small of your back. if that alone is not enough to send anyone in a twenty foot vicinity scurrying away, he'll approach whoever has their eyes set on you.

“what the fuck do you think you're looking at?” kid will cross his arms and make himself look bigger, which really isn't necessary with his nearly seven foot frame. “get lost, you piece of shit, or i'll make you regret it.”

if this person isn't stupid, they'll immediately obey and never show their face around you again.

you're always oblivious to others’ attention, though, since kid takes care of it so quickly.

“where'd you go?” you’d ask, looking over your shoulder as kid returned to you.

“nowhere, doll, nothin’ to worry about.” he’d say gruffly before assuming his rightful place next to you and draping an arm over your shoulders.

monkey d luffy doesn't ever get jealous! he doesn't mind if you talk to other people who may or may not be attractive to you, and he doesn't mind if people blatantly hit on you. it's not like he’d ever really pick up on the fact that someone's flirting with you, anyway.

there are times when he becomes protective, though, and that is if someone is harassing you relentlessly, despite your attempts to free yourself from the situation. 

he’ll place himself between you and the assailant, his arms outstretched as he herds you behind him. all he has to do is glare at them, and the cheerful boy who'd been by your side is quickly replaced by your strong and capable boyfriend, who’d fight the gods themselves to keep you safe and sound.

“leave ‘em alone.” he'd say lowly, and that's the only thing he’d have to do. afterwards, he'd wrap his limbs all the way around you and rub his cheek against yours, speaking to you in a soft voice but with a huge grin on his face to try and cheer you up.

“you doin’ okay? i got rid of ‘em for ya. you'll never hafta worry about ‘em again!”

roronoa zoro is hyper aware of all of his surroundings. every time you're in public, he notices anyone and everyone who happens to even look in your direction. you'd never know it, though, since he's always good at keeping his cool and aloof in most situations.

“i don’ like the way that person is lookin’ atcha.” zoro would grunt, keeping one hand on his swords and the other wrapped around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin.

“ro, there's no one looking at me. calm down.” you'd say with a chuckle. “be my boyfriend, not my guard dog.”

he'd narrow his eyes at you, a very subtle frown grazing his lips, but he'd comply nonetheless. you're right, after all, there's nothing to worry about. 

so he'd just resort to being glued to your backside, hands on your hips and head on a swivel, glaring daggers at this person until they slink away. once they're gone, he'd smirk and huff a satisfied chuckle, letting himself relax as he rests his head in the crook of your neck and closes his eyes. yeah, he's not too worried about it.

trafalgar d water law doesn't typically get jealous. if he does, he'll hold it in his heart and let it weigh heavy on his chest and just send death wishes to whoever is taking your attention away at the moment. it's very easy for him to get you out of these situations, though. he doesn't really want to deal with conflict, he's too tired for that shit. so he has a very simple solution.

he’ll approach you and the unwelcome stranger, sighing and taking his hands out of his pockets.

“room.” law raises his hand, sending a devious smirk from underneath his cap toward the stranger. “shambles.”

and then the stranger would be gone, simple as that.

you'd turn to law with an exasperated look. “you just can't help yourself can you?”

he would just exhale a chuckle and pull you close with one arm, not saying a word.

vinsmoke sanji becomes aggressively aware immediately after anyone of the opposite sex expresses even the most minute amount of interest in you. it could be a smile that looks just a little to friendly or a glance that lasts a little too long, he's on it.

he won't let you notice, though. he'll keep his loving and cheerful demeanor, speaking to you in a sweet voice and continuing to call you by your pet name whenever you speak to him. but he's going to be stalking around you, blocking the pursuer’s line of sight with his body while keeping his hands on your hips.

“i’ll be right back, darling!” he’d tilt your chin up to place a sweet kiss to your lips before quickly approaching the stranger and grabbing them by their collar, dragging them out of the area. 

he wouldn't physically harm them, but he'd shove them against a wall and threaten the fuck out of them. “if you ever so much as look at my precious y/n-chan again, i will personally deliver you to hell.”

then he'd be off, running back to your arms with such zest and sweet excitement!

taglist: @kingofthe-egirls @chopperwithouthishat @usoppsstar + mush but she's already tagged lolol

[writersdrug]

Thinking about Simon with a goth! gf, and introducing his team to you.

Warnings: cursing, very slight nsfw, pda

Typed this up on my lunch break, not thoroughly proofread, ending is meh but it's been rotting in my brain so I had to push it out. Feel free to send me asks about this headcannon, I'd love to write more about it! <3

Simon insists on dragging his team to the nearest pub after a particularly rough day, offering to buy then a round of whiskey. They are all reluctant at first, complaining about aching backs and heads, and Price saying that the missus was expecting him.

Then Simon mumbles something about how his girl would've loved to meet them.

"Yer wha' now?"

"My girl."

Suddenly, Gaz's headache is gone. "Must've just been dehydrated, I suppose." Soap's back feels much better, after being able to sit in the car for just- five minutes, now. And Price? Apparently, the missus was at a dinner raffle for her charity- thing, and he'd just now remembered.

So, drinks and a quick bite at the pub you worked at. It was settled.

Simon leads them in shortly after parking the truck. The other three quickly scan the room for anyone who stands out. As Simon brings them to a booth in the back, they all take a seat, heads on a swivel for some pretty thing to come bouncing over and latch herself onto him.

"Gonna hit the head." Simon says. "I'll put our drinks in- she'll bring 'em over, she'll be done with 'er shift soon."

As he leaves, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sit there in a few moments of observatory silence. It's much harder to sample the crowd, they realize, since there's apparently no dress code for the servers. Johnny eyes each person like a hawk, until he sees a potential pick.

"Tha' one." He says, nodding towards a busty, long-legged blonde. Price and Gaz follow his line of sight to her as she leans against the bar, playing with her hair and laughing at something her friend says. Her bootcut jeans and frilly top accentuate her curves, and it's obvious that every man in her vicinity is ogling. "Twenty on 'er. Seems like he'd be into swimsuit models, eh?"

Gaz humms, scrunching his nose disapprovingly. "Nah, mate- too simple."

"Feck is simple 'bout 'er?"

"I mean for Simon." Gaz corrects Soap. "Don't think he'd want someone so... ditzy- no offense to her." He adds. "I think he wants a girl who can hold her own, in the physical and the figurative sense. Someone..." he narrows his eyes, searching through the crowd of people. "Like her."

He discretely points to a woman across the bar. She's playing darts with a few people, and hits the bullseye perfectly just as Soap and Price look her way. Her tank top and cargo pants show how defined, yet lean her muscles are. She looks like she could last a few decent minutes in a brawl. "I bet on her."

"Well I'll raise ye forty - I ken LT wants someone more... passive."

"Forty it is, then. I'd love to have you pay my bill tonight."

"If I may..." Price chimes in, leaning against the back of the booth with a smug look, arms folded over his chest, "I'd love to get in on this little game o' yours, and walk away with eighty pounds t'night - because you're both wrong."

Soap smirks. "And how's tha', Cap?"

Price smooths his fingers over his mutton chops. "Well, for starters, I'm a bit ashamed o' you boys. Neither of those girls actually work here, do they? Mm?"

Gaz groans, letting his head drop against the wall behind him. It takes Soap another moment, but then he remembers Simon saying this was where you worked. The whole point of them going to this specific pub was because you'd already be here, on the clock.

"Shite..." he mumbles.

"Alright, sir." Gaz says defeatedly. "Lay it on us."

Price leans his elbows on the table and points his finger straight ahead; Gaz and Soap both follow it to the bar, where a sweet-looking girl is punching orders into a server tablet. She has long, silky, red hair, and a petite frame. She smiles so kindly at every patron who speaks to her, and when she makes their drinks, she is quick with it, still engaging in conversation as she shakes the mixer with a powerful arm. Despite the crowd, she seems to be managing fine on her own.

"Her." Price says, tucking his hand back onto the table. "Y' see that face? The way she talks to 'em all? How she's soft and tough at the same time? Imagine that birdie tucked under his wing, eh?"

Soap and Gaz can imagine it. She's a cute little thing, a social butterfly, it seems - the perfect polar opposite to Simon that just might be the perfect fit.

"And I know he's got a thing for redheads." Price adds.

"Piss off, how d'ye ken tha'?" Soap grumbles.

Price shrugs. "Call it intuition."

Simon comes around the corner, carrying several glasses of neat whiskey. "Sorry-" he says, setting a glass in front of Price, and handing out the others as he sits down on the end of the booth. "She's on 'er way now."

"No worries." Price says, trying to hide his smirk. "Didn't know y' were into redheads, Simon."

Simon pauses, looking down at the table in confusion - then he chuckles. "Yeah, s'pose I am. How did y' know? Did she come by already?"

Price laughs. "No, son. We were just sayin'-"

"Hey baby!"

You turn the corner and lean down, squealing as you throw your arms around Simon's neck and kiss him. The other three look on with shock, and Soap is about ready to throw this random woman off of Simon, until he holds you just as tightly and kisses you back.

Price's smirk falls right onto the table when he realizes that he is just as wrong as the other two.

You're Simon's bird. Simon's raven. Black, styled hair, with black lipstick that is currently smudging Simon's chin. You have a choker - no, several chokers, wrapped around your neck, as well as a tiny corked bottle filled with red liquid that makes Soap and Gaz nervous, dangling from a chain. Long, black-painted fingernails, with small spiderwebs decorating the tips, caressing his face and the back of his neck. Your arms and legs are covered with torn fishnets and small tattoos, and you're wearing a black number with a corset, paired with studded Doc Martin's.

You finally pull away and look at the rest of them. "Sorry- nice to finally meet the lot of you." You say, shaking each one of their hands. Your eyes are striking, with full, dark lashes, eyeliner, and red contacts. Gages and a bull ring, too. Soap feels a shiver run up his spine when he looks at you head on, and Gaz hasn't picked his jaw up off the floor since you came around.

"Erm-" Price clears his throat, "pardon us- call me John. This is Kyle, and Johnny." He gestures to the other two, still watching you with a mix of curiosity and awe.

"I've heard so much about you. It's good to put names to the face." You say with a smile, shaking the other two's hands. Gaz manages to smile a bit, but Soap has the same shocked expression plastered onto his face.

Simon has a love-drunk, black-smudged smile on his lips as you sit down in his lap. "She's been wantin' t' meet you all for a while, now. Sorry I kept 'er a secret."

"To be fair, I'm usually hard to find." You say, grabbing a napkin and wiping the lipstick off Simon's face. "I'm either here, at class, or roaming around and people-watching... at night, of course. People are more interesting when it's dark out." You traced a fingernail along his jugular as he stared up at you.

"John 'ere knew you were a redhead."

"How?! Oh my god- are my roots showing?"

"Nah, luvie, he's just observant. 'S our job." Simon places a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, leaning into the kiss.

"Oh, kitchen's about to close. You wanna split a burger, Si?"

"Sure, get what you like."

"'S no onions ok?"

"Fine w' me - chips?"

"You know it." You giggle, making a show of squishing his cheek and biting it. You turn to the rest of his team with a smile. "You boys hungry?"

Price is the first one to speak, taking a heavy breath in, causing Soap and Gaz to finally snap out of their trance. "Erm- whatever you get, we'll do the same. On us tonight."

"Oooh, you sure?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. Simon looked at Price curiously.

"You positive, cap?"

Price nodded. "Lost a bet."

Simon looks even more concerned. You pat his shoulder and stand up. "I'll go punch it in, be right back." You give him a peck on the cheek, and begin to walk away - Simon's attention returns to you as he hooks a finger in the chain choker around your neck and tugs you back.

Soap, Gaz, and Price all watch, stupefied, as you land back in Simon's lap with a giggle. He grabs your chin between his thick fingers and kisses you on the lips, shamelessly letting his tongue slide past your teeth and squeezing your thigh. You laugh into the kiss, letting him devour you for a moment, before tapping his cheek and breaking away.

"I got fifteen minutes to put everyone's order in, Si."

"That's plenty of time, dove."

"Yeah, but then kitchen will get mad for doing it last minute, and I don't want-"

He chuckles, gently shoving out off of his lap and smacking your rump through your skirt. "You're fine, go on."

You smile, then disappear behind the booth, boots thudding against the hardwood floors.

Simon looks back at the three of them - Soap is staring between you and him, a blush covering his face. Gaz immediately turns to look at the wall, scratching his chin, and Price is gazing into his whiskey, though there's a lingering surprise in his eyes.

"So- what bet?" Simon asks, adjusting his hips; Soap notices his hand reaching down to palm at the fabric over his groin. "I don' remember bettin' nothin'."

"We weren't bettin' on ye pullin' her out ye pockets, LT." Soap comments, trying to avoid Simon's eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out forty pounds, slapping it onto the table.

"It makes sense..." Gaz, chimes in. "With your whole skeleton look, she fits you."

Simon slowly smiles, understanding what they had bet on. "Oh... I see. Lemme guess - you thought I's with someone more... simple? Lile that blonde at the bar, is tha' right?"

"Tha's what I said!!" Soap exclaims, dropping his fist to the table. "You got te give me credit fer pointin' t' a swimsuit model first, aye?"

"Oh- because every bloke on earth is shallow enough to care about swimsuit models." Gaz scoffs. "I at least picked someone who didn't look so bloody helpless." He gestures to the girl playing darts with her friends. "You don't even know if the other girl's a model."

"Well, one can imagine..."

"Feel as though I's the closest..." Price mutters under his breath, making the other two glare at him.

"Ye were not."

"Get off your high horse, cap-"

"Well- try this." Simon leans on his forearms with a smug look on his face. "My bird? She's a model, and she's a black-belt in Judo, and-" he looks at Price- "she's a natural redhead."

They all look between Simon and you, as you stand behind the bar and punch their orders in, laughing with the other redhead. Their eyes would drop onto the table if they were any wider.

"You sly dog-" Gas comments with a chuckle.

"I don' believe ye." Soap says, crossing his arms. "Wha' kind o' model?"

"Lingerie."

Price chokes on his whiskey.

"Bullshit." Soap snaps. "Pictures or ye lyin'."

"Nah." Simon sighs, leaning back in his seat and daking a sip of his whiskey. "Not the ones I have, at least. But pick up the last "Bloodletting" magazine, and she's there."

They all sit there, a bit dumbfounded, watching you walk back to the booth. How on earth did someone like Simon land someone like you?

Simon's full of surprises, even in his personal life.

[thir10th]

hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex

if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office

I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!

jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is

It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.

The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.

He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.

The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.

If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.

But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.

"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain

"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.

He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.

The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.

"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.

"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.

"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.

"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.

"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically

"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"

"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.

"that's not even a real answer!" you say.

"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.

"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.

"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.

The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.

A little fun never hurt anyone, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"

Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.

"what?" she asks.

"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.

"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.

Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”

"i might just be" she mutters

"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"

You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.

"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it

"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier

"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away

"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"

It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.

From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.

From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.

That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name

"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.

You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.

"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.

He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.

"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.

"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.

Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.

"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently

"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.

Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.

She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.

"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly

"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt

she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan

"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.

She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.

"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips

"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear. 

She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.

"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast

"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.

"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.

Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.

You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.

You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.

You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.

"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"

Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.

The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.

And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.

Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan

"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"

"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.

“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.

"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach

"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.

She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast. 

You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.

Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.

"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify

"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.

"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.

"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.

"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.

Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"

"who says I'm covering them?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.

You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.

The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.

He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"

Emily gives him the finger.

"in your dreams" you say.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!

[ddejavvu]

please send me requests for the outsiders!

pairing: the outsiders x fem!reader, darrel curtis x fem!reader (ambiguous), sodapop curtis x fem!reader (ambiguous)

summary: you offer darry some help around the house

a/n: i just want to help him, those bum ass boys never did shit around the house i KNOW IT. i'll help you with dusting darry baby </333

You're trying to tamp down the silly pride in your chest that you've been invited to one of Sodapop's 'Bum Around at Home' days. You're casual friends with a few of the guys from their circle of friends, but Sodapop was one you hadn't thought you were too close with; not until he'd offered to bring you along to hang out at his house with the group. Plenty of his and Steve's stories have started out with, 'while we were bummin' 'round the house' and now you're eager to be included in the larger group dynamic.

You know the outside of the house from the times you'd walked Ponyboy home from school, a few years older than him but still friendly through outside studies. You'd also stopped by once to drop something off for Johnny, but that's only because his own house was not a fit place for guests. You've never actually been inside until now, and the soft, warm lighting makes up for what Sodapop had affectionately referred to as their 'lack of housekeeping'. He's not wrong, there's chores undone, dishes in the sink and laundry draped over the table, but it's homey, somewhere you can tell people live in. It's nice.

"Take a seat on the couch there," Soda gestures to it when he opens the door, "Two-Bit, move your ass, Y/N needs to sit."

"Woah, a lady guest today. Should've worn my fancy sneakers, "Two-Bit snickers, "Only got three holes in 'em instead of four. How's it goin', Y/N?"

You know Keith from school, he'd spent an equal amount of time doing his classwork as he did tugging on your hair from where it drapes over the back of your seat. But still you remember laughing with him at his immature humor, and you settle down beside him with a smile.

"Not bad. Are those all yours?"

An impressive smattering of empty beer bottles sits beside the couch by Two-Bit's feet, and he kicks one over with a shoe that does, in fact, have four holes in it.

"Some are from last night."

"He's been here for two days," Soda scoffs, taking the seat on your other side, "Surprised he hasn't started collecting dust yet."

"Hey, I move!" Two-Bit insists, "Gotta take a piss after all the beers I've been drinking."

Ponyboy looks displeased that he'd chosen that moment to walk out of the kitchen, a glass of water in hand. His nose wrinkles and you can't help but laugh, waving politely at him where he stands in the doorway.

"Hey Pony," You call, "How's school?"

"It's alright." The younger boy shrugs, settling tentatively across from the couch, leaning against the side of the television, "Walking home isn't as much fun without you, though."

You smile fondly at the kid, glad that you no longer had to deal with the perils of high school but missing his company all the same.

"I'm sure you get along okay with Johnny. Where is he, by the way? 'Thought you said everyone'd be here."

"He and Dallas went to get more cigarettes, I think." Pony hums, leaning his head against the TV, "Only one missing is Steve. I don't know where he is."

"He's working today." Soda sighs longingly, "Wish he'd gotten off, but there ain't enough of us to cover. We're almost the only employees."

"And your other brother," You hum softly, "Uh- Darrel?"

"He's heading to work soon." Soda props a leg up on the sofa, shoe still on and surely dirtying the fabric, "He works every day. He's just getting ready now, you can say hi before he leaves if you want."

You hum noncommittally, turning your attention to the grainy cartoon Two-Bit is enraptured in. It's white noise, but you itch to do something- perhaps you're not made for bumming around.

The screen door rattles with the entrance of Johnny and Dallas, and you share a less-familiar nod and smile with the latter than you do with Johnny. He's never bothered you- never crossed your path, really, but you've heard rumors and you're not keen to be messed with now. It seems your plan works: He stays a respectable distance from you, equally uncaring.

"Didn't know you were comin'." Johnny smiles, settling at your feet with his back to the couch, "Would've offered to grab you something from the store if we knew."

"I'm okay for now." You assure him, nudging his side with your calf where he sits beside your legs, "Thanks, Johnny. You doing okay?"

"Not bad." He shrugs, "Not worse than usual."

You nod, silent and understanding.

"Alright boys," Darrel makes his appearance from one of the back rooms, but when his eyes catch yours, he starts slightly, "Oh- uh. Sorry. Don't think we've met."

"I'm Y/N," You supply, reaching for the hand that he extends to shake, "I went to school with everyone for a bit, but I graduated last year."

Darry nods but Soda cuts in, "Yeah, and her car's a hunk of junk. She's been into the DX for repairs so much lately I know her serial number by heart."

"Hey! It's not junk," You elbow him, but a good-natured smile spreads over your face despite your offense; he's right - "It's got personality."

"The kind'a personality that won't let you brake while the windows are down."

You take the resulting unanimous snort from the men around you with grace, because admittedly, your car is ridiculous. But it's all you can afford, so you'll take their teasing in stride.

"Well it's nice to meet you." Darry sends you a smile, but it fades quicker than you'd have liked, "Maybe you can make sure none of these knuckleheads smoke more than a pack today. And maybe wash the dishes for once." Darry swats Ponyboy on the back of the head, and the boy's face twists into a scowl.

"We'll take care of it, Darry." Soda assures him, but stays firmly seated on the couch, and Darrel seems to know that it's a white lie by the way his face hardens again, exhaustion creased into his far-too-young face.

"Right. Well I'll be back after dark. And I'll take care of the laundry. And the vacuuming, just please- please, do the dishes, boys. That's all I ask."

Even Two-Bit hums noncommittally at the order, and you marvel at how Darry has 3 extra people in the house and somehow no hands for chores.

"I'll wrangle them," You tease, even if you don't plan on barking orders at anyone, if only to see Darry's brow smooth for just a second.

He chuckles at your tough persona, fitting a blue button-up over his white undershirt, "I appreciate it. Aside from the dishes all I want is for y'all not to burn the house down."

"No guarantees." Dallas sneers, a cigarette fittingly in his hand, "Pony smokes like a fuckin' factory. You'll be lucky if one'a his doesn't go up in flames."

You're sure if Darrel could get away with smacking Dallas upside the head, too, he would.

"Be careful." Darry warns, and you watch as he grabs a wallet off of the table, tucking it into his pocket, "I'll be back late. Don't wait up. Do the dishes."

"Bye, Dar." Soda calls, leaning his head sideways onto your shoulder as he props his feet up on the edge of the coffee table, "Don't pull a muscle."

Darry's only answer is the slamming of the door, and no one gets up to do the dishes.

You glance at the clock and see that Darry won't be home for several hours- probably more than ten. That's ample time, sure, but your hands itch to scrub food stains from the way Darry had emphasized the necessity of the chore. You know about the Curtis' situation; Darry had to take on the mangled role of brother and father, but you're realizing now that you hadn't understood how much of a workload he'd taken on.

You settle into your spot on the couch, fiddling with the loose strings on your jeans, trying to assure yourself that the dishes will be done.

--

"Turn it up, Two, if you're gonna talk through the whole damn thing," Steve chucks a bottle cap at Two-Bit where he's snickering in Johnny's ear. Steve had turned up not even an hour ago, and he's already spread out over the armchair in the corner, straight off of a shift at work so slow that he'd been sent home early. He'd shoved the clean laundry off of the chair to sit down, and it had only made it into a basket because the basket was sitting beside the chair.

No one has done the dishes.

Your legs are beginning to ache from not moving and in a sudden fit of energy you nudge Soda's arm away from where he'd been resting it comfortably against your thigh, chaste but comfortable. He's touchy, and it's typically nice, but you feel itchy sitting in someone else's home and not helping out with things that clearly need to be helped with.

"I'm gonna go wash those dishes." You announce, and Two-Bit snickers at your statement.

"Don't worry about that, Y/N."

"Yeah, sit down. I'll do 'em later." Soda waves a nonchalant hand towards the kitchen, "Darry don't get home until way after midnight, we have time."

"They don't have to sit there, though. I could just do them now." You bargain, "And then no one has to worry about them."

"You're a guest! Just sit and watch TV," Soda insists, "Really, Darry just loves talkin' about chores. It'll get done, don't sweat it."

You're sweating it.

You trust that Soda will do them, you know he doesn't mean to inconvenience his brother, you just wish they'd put 'bumming around' after helping out.

"Fine. But I'm tired of sitting. I'm gonna take a walk."

"Careful. Stay in the neighborhood, and if you see a car that's too nice to be one of us, beeline back for the house." Steve narrows his eyes at you, "Want someone to walk with you?"

"I'm fine." You insist, "I'll be careful. I'll be back soon."

No one notices when you snag the laundry basket from beside the chair; they're all too busy watching TV.

There's a worn-out picnic table in the tiny backyard that the Curtis' house offers, and it's the perfect place to set the basket. There's a decent amount of laundry inside- which you're sure Darry washed himself, and you mull over the constant tiredness in his eyes while you smooth and fold their laundry.

You can't imagine what he's going through- you can't imagine what any of them are going through. You're sure everyone is struggling in their own ways, but you wonder if the boys help him more than they've let on so far. You can't assume anything- you've only spent a few hours in their house, but Darry seems to be desperate for extra help. And you can't imagine working an entire day away only to return to a house full of undone laundry, so your fingers carefully tuck each undershirt into a neat square, and you brush away lint from the blue jeans that fill the basket.

It's a nice day outside, a little breezy, which makes it easy to get through the basket of laundry. You replace it with a freshly folded stack, and you're glad for the back entrance to the Curtis' house that lets you pass two bedrooms, one of which is clearly Sodapop's and Ponyboy's from the posters on the wall.

You duck into the other one and it seems about right for Darrel. It's sparse on decor, but it's got a secondary pair of work boots by the closet and it's the neatest of the bedrooms. The bed is made and you set the laundry basket on the comforter, venturing into Soda and Pony's room only to grab a pen and paper.

No one thinks anything of it when you slip back into the house, retaking your seat on the couch that, miraculously, no one has lounged into yet.

"Short walk." Dallas notes, scrutinizing you from his spot in the corner.

You shrug, "It was hot outside. Just needed to stretch my legs."

You slip back into the mind-numbing routine of watching cartoons and snacking on whatever someone offers you, and you let yourself enjoy hours slipping away like minutes as you finally relax.

Sodapop does do the dishes, far too late for your liking but still respectably before his brother returns. Darry is grateful for the empty sink when he gets home to the quiet house, and he beelines for his bedroom to shuck his work shirt before starting on the laundry he's sure got shoved unceremoniously somewhere.

It's late, and his tired muscles ache for respite especially considering he has to do it all over again tomorrow. But these things must be done, and he steels himself against the mundane chores he has to do to keep the house running. Somehow, keeping up the house is harder than his blue collar labor.

He's impressed that the laundry basket made it carefully onto his bed, but he's even more surprised when he peers inside and finds it full of folded clothes. There's a note on the top, and Darry squints in the low light of his bedroom at the unfamiliar handwriting.

Darry,

I hope you don't feel like I've invaded your privacy. That's the last thing I want. I just thought that you seemed a little overwhelmed this morning, and I'd hate for you to have to deal with something silly like laundry after a long day at work. If I've crossed a line, let me know and it won't happen again. I just hope I could help out a little. Anytime you need an extra hand, I can pitch in.

P.S - I made Soda do the dishes.

Y/N

Darry realizes he's been chewing on his tongue only after he's finished reading your name off of the page, and he lets up where his incisors had been gnawing into muscle.

It's- heartfelt. Casually so, but it's still hit the mark. 'Overwhelmed' doesn't begin to cover the way he feels, and even if his brothers do notice it, they've never outright said it. He glances down once more at the impeccably folded laundry and feels something in his chest simultaneously loosen and tighten, something relaxed and something tensed.

Setting the laundry basket aside reveals his bed, inviting after a long day of back-breaking labor. He mindlessly makes it all the way into bed- still in his day clothes, too tired to change, before he realizes he's still clutching the note you'd left him, and he lays it carefully on his nightstand. His exhausted body melts into the mattress as he settles, and he turns on his side to face the window instead of his typical stance towards the wall.

He drifts to sleep staring at the phrase 'Anytime you need an extra hand', taking solace in the fact that someone's finally brushing the fingertips of the hand he'd been extending, begging for help as his head sinks below water. He feels a lot like he's drowning, but tonight he can breathe.

[allisluv]

Emily prentiss x single mom!reader, Emily introducing her new gf reader and her kid to the team?

meet the family -- e.p

summary: emily introduces you and your daughter, verity, to the team.

pairing: emily prentiss x single mom!reader

word count: 1.1k

content warnings: derek being a lovable menace and interrogating reader but he's just worried for emily! apart from that, i don't think there is anything else but if there is, just lmk! <3

author's note: thinking about turning this into a series so feel free to send in as many scenarios for these two as you'd like! <3

when emily tells you that she wants to introduce you to her friends from work, you're nervous, to say the least. you've heard great things about the bau— not only are they damn good at their job, they also treat each other like family.

you're sure they're lovely people, honest, but part of you wonders just how nice they will be when they find out you have a daughter. you've been going out with emily for the better part of six months, and while she has been nothing but supportive of you being a single mother, that doesn't mean everyone else will be as understanding.

over the last four years, you've faced a lot of backlash about being a single mother. in fact, you had started to give up hope altogether on finding someone new. people do not like to take someone on when they have priorities or "baggage", as one man called it. you were debating taking down your tinder profile when emily messaged you— and boy were you glad she did.

"relax, my love," emily soothes, resting her hand on your thigh as she focuses on the long stretch of road ahead. "it's just dinner. and i promise they don't bite. well, derek might, but he's all talk and i'll kick him in the balls if i have to."

you laugh, wiping your clammy palms down the front of your black blouse. "are you sure i look alright? i feel stupid in this skirt."

before emily can get a word in, verity pipes up from the backseat. "you look pretty, mommy."

you meet her eye in the rear view mirror and smile. her words settle your nerves ever so slightly. "thank you, honey."

"see?" emily quirks a brow. "verity knows her stuff, don't you, v?"

verity is too busy playing with her barbie dolls to give emily a proper answer, but she hums her agreement, which is good enough. emily brings your hand up to her mouth and presses soft kisses to your knuckles, something that she's learnt over the last few months that soothes you.

emily holds your hand, verity holding your other, as you walk into the restaurant. it's buzzing with life, and it's warm, which makes a change to the bitter cold outside.

you hear someone call emily's name, and your heart sinks into a pit in your stomach. as if she can sense your anxiety— and lets be real, she's a profiler, so she more than likely can— she squeezes your hand and leans down to kiss your forehead. "that's jj."

a blonde with bangs pulls emily into a hug as the rest of the team stand to their feet. before you have time to back out of the situation altogether, a woman with orangey-red hair squeals and envelopes you in her arms. "i'm penelope!"

"hi!" you giggle, placing a hand over your chest in an effort to keep your heart from beating so fast. you give her your name and she compliments you on how pretty you are. "thank you," you laugh.

as you go around the table, learning everyone's names-- david and jj and aaron and spencer and the infamous derek-- you feel a tug on your arm. verity's hiding behind your legs and you hoist her onto your hip, not caring who's watching. she winds her chubby arms around your neck, and buries her face into your blouse.

"who've we got here?" spencer smiles, trying to catch verity's eye.

you look to emily for help and she places a reassuring hand on your lower back. "this is my girlfriend, and her daughter, verity."

for a minute no one says anything, and you debate running back out the front door and away from the prying eyes. you swallow the lump in your throat as emily's thumb traces soothing patterns against your lower back.

aaron cracks a tiny smile, something that looks to be a rare occurrence, and puts his hands on his hips. "it's nice to meet you, verity. how old are you?" verity pulls her face away from where it's buried in your blouse for just long enough to hold up four small fingers. "i have a son, jack, who's just a little bit older than you! he's five! maybe next time i could bring him and the two of you could play together? how does that sound?"

verity flails her legs about, a sign that she wants to be let down. you oblige, and she stands by your side, gripping your hand like a vice. "does jack like superheroes?"

aaron grins. "he does indeed."

verity juts her chin out. "then it's a date."

the team erupt into laughter and derek mutters something fondly about how jack will have his work cut out with this one.

emily pulls your chair out and you sit down, offering your girlfriend a smile in return. she sits beside you and verity makes herself comfortable in the chair on your other side. "i couldn't find a babysitter on such short notice, i'm sorry."

spencer dismisses you with a wave of his hand. "don't be. 66% of babysitters are between the ages of 11 to 13 anyway. did you know that?"

you smile. emily had filled you in about spencer’s rambling. while some people found it annoying, you found it endearing. “i didn’t know that."

derek leans across the table, using his elbows to prop himself up. "so..." he says to you. "what are your intentions with emily?" penelope whacks him across the back of the head. "what? it's a simple question!"

your face flushes scarlet. emily takes your hand under the table. "well, my intentions with emily are strictly confidential, if you know what i mean." you bat your lashes and rest your chin in the palm of your hand. you cover verity's ears. "does that answer your question or do you need the nitty gritty details of our sex life, too?"

jj bursts into a fit if giggles, aaron almost chokes on his red wine and derek ducks his head to hide his embarrassed smile.

"she's fiery," david notes. "i can see why you like her, em."

"well, i'm in love with emily," you announce. "and, unfortunately for you guys, i'm in it for the long haul, so you're stuck with me." you catch derek's eye from over the rim of your cocktail glass. "have you got a problem with that?"

derek tongues the inside of his cheek, smiles, and shakes his head. "not at all. i hope you don't mind me being rude, i was just seeing if you could hold your own, that's all. no hard feelings?"

you shake his hand across the table. "no hard feelings."

emily lets go of your hand to fold her arms across her chest. "im glad the air is cleared between the two of you, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, i will castrate you."

"is that a threat?" derek muses.

"no," emily says, slipping her hand into yours. "It's a promise."

[thedexcat]

VotV Speculation Megapost

(For posterity's sake, the latest major release is 0.8) (Also, buckle in. This post is a long one.) (Edit 9/20/24: Added Addendum 1) (Edit 10/14/24: Added Addendum 2) It should be extremely obvious, but spoilers ahead.

As we all know, Voices of the Void has a "story breadcrumbs" approach to its plot. Combine that with its alpha status, and we're left with a lack of hard answers. However, some pieces did seem to click into place. This is far from anything definitive, but here are some of the conclusions I've drawn. Let's start with everybody's favorite:

Part 1: The Arirals

god i want one to hold me like that

You know em. You love em. Like 90% of the fanart is about them. But the question is... what the hell are they doing here? Judging by the fact that they construct a campsite in the facility, they clearly expect to be here for a while. A common interpretation I hear from people is that the ones out in the facility are either political refugees, or just some sort of benign "tourist group". I've personally come to a different conclusion. Let's consider what they brought with them.

Exhibit A: The weapon (left)

The weapon they drop around Day 24 is no mere Star Trek phaser. If you drop it in the main building, pretty much EVERYTHING in the building is going to be sent flying from the resulting blast. Not only that, but the "human-wieldable" version that can be unlocked for the sandbox mode has one hell of a fire rate. Something tells me that there's no way in hell this thing is a civilian-grade weapon. And, as established in a previous post of mine, they're kitted out in full-body armored stealth suits.

Exhibit B: The stealth suit (Kerf dutifully remains there for scale)

These aren't tourists or runaways. They're goddamn Black Ops. But you're probably asking, "If that's what they are, then why do they have nothing better to do than to steal shrimp and prank you?" Don't worry, I'll get to that later. Eventually. Maybe.

For now, let's move on to a third thing of theirs: The letter to Kel.

Exhibit C: Esraniki's Letter (D-, see me after english class)

This is the letter left at the Ariral camp if you have maxxed reputation with them. There's one line in particular that's always stood out to me. "GET WE HOME YOU GET DEATH AVOID" So... why can't they go home? Let's review: A: They have perfectly functional spacecraft parked right behind you. Even if they were broken, surely some random Pre-FTL primitive wouldn't be able to help with a mechanical failure in their technology. Hell, they buzz you at the radio tower with one. So there seems to be nothing physically stopping them from leaving. B: They've come kitted out with some serious weapons and armor C: Something in the facility is drawing the attention of all manner of extraterrestrials (and ghosts and demons. are 'metaterrestrials' a good word for them?) So my take? They're monitoring something, waiting for an opportunity to act upon it. (In keeping with the Patch Note naming convention, I will be calling this unknown something "The Threat") Not only that, this 'opportunity' may only open up with the assistance of a human. But what could Dr. Kel possibly do that an Ariral couldn't? Well, I can think of one thing he can do better... Interface with human technology.

Exhibit D: Ariral Communique (quality: shit) Computer technology isn't some universal constant. You can't make a program and expect it to magically run on alien technology with an unknown architecture. This ain't Independence Day. The fact that the Arirals barely managed to send a heavily-garbled message to Kel's computer, quite frankly, speaks of an extreme amount of effort on their part. And it was all just to say the word "OUTSIDE".

If The Threat has some ties to human technology, then perhaps Kel actually could be more qualified to deal with it than the Ariral Black Ops. Hmm... An unknown threat with ties to human technology. Could it possibly involve...

Part 2: The Incredibly Suspicious Bunker

"I left a 'Do not enter' note on the floor. That'll stop people from investigating!" This damn thing is quite obviously, as TVtropes would put it, The Very Definitely Final Dungeon. It is my firm belief that this is what the Arirals were sent to monitor, and where The Threat can be found. But we can't really get much further in than a few doors. So... what's in there? An easy assumption to make is that it's some sort of fallout/storm shelter. But something nearby might tell a different story...

Exhibit E: *squints* ...Liberty Prime? If you take a metal detector over to the bunker entrance, you'll quickly discover a buried drive nearby. The image you just saw is its contents. It's clear that something is being depicted here. What exactly it is, well, that's hard to say. but if you look at that teeny tiny thing at the top, you'll see something that looks like the Alpha base and its radio tower

oh god we're getting into crusty duende video territory now

What this says to me is that there is a colossal something underneath the base. Some sort of mega-facility? Unnatural cave formations? Something else entirely? Or I could be looking at it entirely wrong. But the point is, it's very likely that something extremely expansive is down there.

What if we could just take a peek a liiiittle bit further in? Well, there is ONE way...

Exhibit F: The Least Cursed Elevator in Horror Fiction

Roughly around 3:33 each night, there is a chance that a camera inside the bunker will become active. It's monitoring what appears to be a heavy-duty elevator coated in blood. An elevator like this would also indicate something buried deep underneath the base. Say, this elevator seems familiar...

Exhibit G: Monique Santificer's Extremely Ominous Foreshadowing

...Huh. I'm sure that only means good things. So we have a Hellivator and evidence that there's some place that you'd need a Hellivator to get to. Are there any other clues around? Well, there's that handy instruction book on robotics. You can make your own little friend!

POV: You're 5'11 and she's 6'0 And... Oh! looking back at that camera, it looks like someone else made their... their own... friend...

Exhibit H: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- ...I don't think they followed the instructions to the letter. So it seems the people in the bunker were working on combining robots and, er, 'biomass'. I don't think our meaty friend here is The Threat itself, but I do believe that it is some aspect of it, or at least a result of it. And whatever The Threat is, it seems to be "leaking" out of the bunker. After all, this toothy bot here seems to have little siblings burrowing out from underground!

Exhibit I: should start running Kerfus. Kerfur. Whatever name they have, they love you! Such a shame that the flesh inhabiting their chassis does not.

they seriously recalled the ++ models over a little thing like this, smh Something deep underground, cursed flesh, and occult sigils. Hmm. Things would tie together neatly if there were, say, some sort of demon around associated with flesh and dark depths.

Part 3: Furfur (and conclusions)

"I WATCH YOU SHIT AT NIGHT" The Great Earl of Hell and raw flesh afficianato, it's Furfur! Demonology refers to him as a liar, but also a teacher of secrets. And he seems to really really like flesh. Not bones, though. He's always leaving those behind.

They say that if you burn an offering of flesh at his altar, he'll give you a marketable Furfur plushie!

The children who survived loved them! Interestingly, there's a certain location connected to Furfur: The bottom of the well. If you pass out at the bottom of the well, you will end up in a (dream of a?) mysterious structure.

Exhibit J: all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well

A few things of note in this place: -More demonic sigils -The only 'exit' is a tunnel leading upward with a broken ladder. And even if you could reach up there, Furfur's giant skull-face is blocking the way. -A unique knife, which when examined in the inventory, says that it was found "deep underground".

How very interesting that this flesh-loving demon has his own little place down in the depths of the earth. And you say the bunker reaching downwards has been spawning horrific robot-flesh amalgamations? Robots that are specifically of human design?

Well then. So here's what I think is going down:

no i'm not crazy it's invisible alien catgirls versus demon cyborgs you weren't listening were you?

-Some scientists from before did a Very Bad Thing in the bunker depths. If I had to venture a guess, it's that they bargained with Furfur for secrets of the flesh, perhaps in the pursuit of cybernetics, biocomputers, or somesuch. This resulted in the Very Bad Thing happening, thus creating The Threat. -The Threat was contained to some extent, but is starting to noticeably leak out. It is also severe enough to have drawn extraterrestrial attention. -The Arirals have sent a squad to monitor the situation and act if necessary. Seeing as there's been no urgent need to act as of yet, they are bored out of their skulls and taking it out on you. -The fact that the bunker hasn't been blown up by catgirl black ops already says to me that the situation down there is delicate, and a 'guns-blazing' approach would be inadvisable. Not only that, but The Threat seems to be tied to technology they have little knowledge of. They would most likely need outside assistance if they want a 'clean' resolution to the problem. -And wouldn't you know it? Right there in the facility is some nerdy, crusty, half-crazed twink that seems to be very proficient in handling human technology. How very convenient.

"average person eats 3 roaches a year" factoid actually just statistical error. Dr. Kel, who-

That's how I think this ties together, personally. Of course, there's always unaccounted for 'loose ends' that may or may not be tied to the Bunker Conspiracy (the rozital pit in particular has been bugging me with its vagueness). Plus there's always the chance that I misinterpreted things like a dumbass. There were a few other smaller things I wanted to cover, but my fingers hurt from typing, and my ability to hyperfixate has its limits. And sorry if the screengrabs are a bit mismatched, I've already spent hours on this post without having to get screenshots from the game myself. If anyone actually read through this monstrosity of a post, congratulations! If you're as deeply brainrotted as I am, feel free to point out the reasons I'm dumb and wrong :)

Addendum 1: Meta Aspects

no, not this. wrong place. wrong time.

Every now and then I hear talk of lore clarifications in Discord servers, Google Docs, etc. Will I be covering these?

(source) The reason? I want to give my impressions based purely on the work as published. Death of the Author and whatnot. The furthest I'll reach 'outside' the games are those ambiguous little teasers on YouTube, which you don't have to be in any 'specific server' or anything to see.

haha what if funni meme robot was irreversibly corrupted by the horrors?

Think of it as me giving a form of feedback on how the game is presented as an isolated work. Anyway, I'll be posting another Addendum later, connecting more demon stuff to the bunker. Fun! One thing I intend to investigate between then and now is a rumor of a very poorly documented... item interaction. As a little preview, consider this note.

It seems, in my pursuit of knowledge regarding a mysterious bunker in an incomplete videogame story, I find myself investigating a skeletal entity of ambiguous origin described as having a single glowing eye. God. Fucking. Dammit. Every time with this shit.

This always seems to happen whenever the protagonist is bullied by tall monstergirls

Addendum 2: Classified

Progress on my investigation has been slow due to a combination of poor RNG and real-life stuff. Fun fact: I've never encountered the fossilhound in my many months of playing, and it looks like that won't change anytime soon!

I'll get you one day, ya boney bastard. In the meantime, it seems that someone has leaked classified pokemon data communications from our employers...

And just who do we encounter within the first few weeks?

Our classified documents are their vacation photos

So it seems that at the very least, our employers seem to be aware of the Arirals. So to what end do they want to draw them out? And why would the Arirals show any particular interest in a human presence in this facility specifically?

They clearly seem to be hiding their presence from the world at large with their cloaking ships and whatnot, but they seem almost eager to grab the attention of anyone working at this particular site.

And, as everyone already knows, Arirals are certified Goobers. They form like 3/5ths of the Counsel of Goobers*. The ones we encounter at the very least are very much not what our employers expect to kill us. So our employers are also aware of the existence of some other threat, possibly even THE Threat. *the remaining members are Kerfuses and Dinguses

Truly an incomprehensible menace from beyond the stars. (source)

Personally, I feel like this all feeds back into my previous thoughts. There is clearly a Threat at this location, and the Arirals probably believe that they may need human assistance to do something here. Or maybe I'm just biased towards whatever random thoughts got cooked up in my head.

Anyway, hopefully next time I'll be back with reports of yanking the lifecrystal out from the Fossilhound's head and shoving it up its ass. I am so, SO sick of trying to get that thing to show up.

[rachi-roo]

!!!ATTENTION TICKLE ARTISTS!!!

I want to get the sfw tickle community back to life!!! So, me and @rand0m-s1nner have come up with a game for us to play! An event I'm calling-

"Pass-the-Lee!"

This is just going to be a fun, silly, fluffy little game to get people talking and interacting more! More info + poll below! 💕 If you are interested, make sure to give me a follow so you don't miss any updates or the admission poll!!!

UPDATE: The lee selection process is now under way! Pop on over here to vote for one of the suggested characters that we will all be getting!!!

How it works:

A list of everyone participating will be posted, this will be the order of who gets the lee next!

Whoever is at the top of the list will start, drawing the first installment of our lee getting got!

When they're finished, they post their image and send a second to the next person.

This second image can show you dropping the lee to the next ler in the list, the aftermath if you will. I'll show examples below ^^

The next person on the list, who is sent the aftermath image, then answers with their instalment of the tickling! This continues until we reach the bottom of the list, and our poor little lee is all tuckered out. 😌🤌

Think of it like a boop booth, but we pass around the lee instead of one person doing the whole thing!

Rules for the content of the drawing!

SFW ONLY! No nudity, no extreme bondage (Basic wrist pinning, tying only)

For the first game, there will be no extreme tickling! Keep it light, keep it fluffy!!!

You do not have to tickle the lee at all! If you want to give them a break, you can. If you want them to jave a snack, go ahead.

Make sure you incorporate the aftermath you are sent into your instalment! I.e if you are sent an ask and the lee is for example, holding a pillow, try and draw them with that item around. If the ask shows the lee with a specific item of clothing missing, make sure to draw them as is. You can always cloth them again when it's your turn to send the ask!

I think that covers how things will work. There won't be a super strict time limit, I want this to be chill and fun! However! If you do choose to join in, please be considerate of the next person in the list! Don't leave em hanging!!! 💕 Anyone can join! All levels of art progress welcome!!

Please reblog, even if you don't want to join in, others might! 😊💕 Take care friendos!!!!

[celaenaeiln]

so my friend, at 12 am, called me just to say that dick grayson is the only one in his family that bruce truly views as an equal and then hung up. what. what do i do.

well, call them back and tell 'em they're right 😂😂😂

I started cackling so hard I began wheezinggg oh my god that's hilarious!!!

But maybe for a more reasonable time to talk about this concept after you wake/have woken up from your dick grayson cameo dreams, I'll drop some comic panels

Dick is privy to all of Bruce because of the way Bruce treats him like an equal

He lets Dick in on secrets that he doesn't tell any of the others

I've made a post before on how Clark views Dick as his equal just as Bruce views Dick as his equal.

I'm going to drop the Bruce segment here:

When Bruce was gone the only person he entrusted any information to was Dick. He left a personalized - voice activated - message for Dick and only him that lists his worries, faults, and regrets.

"The girl, Cassandra Cain... I told her to give this file to you should I fall tonight."

"She's my greatest sin, Dick. My deepest regret. Stay alive, and please. Try to forgive me--"

He lists his insecurities to Dick as friend, as an equal.

Of everyone Bruce left behind, the only person Bruce left a message for was Dick. He relies on him unconditionally to take over because Bruce doesn't seem him as a kid like he does with the other - don't get me wrong, he still values and knows just how brilliant the rest of his children are - but he sees Dick as an equal in terms of intelligence, abilities, and leadership. Actually -

Bruce puts Dick on a pedestal.

He views Dick as the golden standard of everything he's working toward.

The reason I think Bruce is so harsh on Dick in regards to training is he doesn't see him as a kid that needs protection, he seems him equal to himself.

Time and time again he sends Dick on solo missions because of the faith he has in Dick's abilities and intelligence

In another comic there's an Arkham breakout and Bruce just. He just sends sends Dick on a solo mission to contain the entirety of Arkham and the villains inside by himself.

And Dick does. Effortlessly.

The fight for Spyral

"I know the other heroes. I know them all. I'd have them do it, but they can't. They'd fight, but eventually they'd give up, they'd give in."

We all know that Bruce despises himself when he fails at something. He thinks he's the best in the world and struggles to cope with the idea that he failed. As such, Bruce views Dick as an extension of himself. Unlike with the kids where he acknowledges their differences and treats them like children, Dick and Bruce are so intertwined that Bruce considers Dick as the "good part" of himself while Bruce is the "bad part".

He gets the angriest at Dick during times where Dick disagrees with him because he believes that Dick should understood what he's going through and what he believes in. For his part, Dick is always on Bruce's side and acts like Bruce's leash. He'll let Bruce do anything he wants as long as it's within the limits of acceptable behavior. Once Batman crosses those limits, Dick fights with him to bring him back.

As such, Bruce doesn't differentiate himself with Dick. He is the best and as a result so is Dick. Except in his mind Dick is better than him in every way possible and he took the steps to ensure it through training.

One of the reasons people in the comics call Dick the Golden Child is because he's the living embodiment of everything Bruce strived to create. It's not because he follows his orders religiously or anything. No, Dick just gives Bruce a longer leash than most.

In the Spyral fight I think he hits Dick because he is in part frustrated with himself. Imagine seeing someone you have unconditional faith in because you know they're capable of the very same things as you and can even surpass you fall to a threat. Doesn't that mean you would've fallen too? Is their failure just as much yours if you see yourself as a god? But how can a god-like being fall?

Their relationship is complicated because while Bruce sees Dick as his own person, he also sees him as the reflection of his success.

That's why Bruce is harsher on Dick than the rest of the kids. That's why Bruce makes Dick his right hand man. That's why Bruce shares his sorrows, fears, and vulnerabilities to Dick.

The way they interact, they view each other as father and son but with all the roles and responsibilities as partners.

Dick's compartmentalization and the way he mothers Bruce and Bruce allows it? He doesn't let anyone do that. I feel like on some level he subconsciously expects Dick to take care of him. As someone he can turn to with his worst and darkest sides and still be loved and appreciated and told everything will be alright. It's not a burden he places on the rest of his kids. Which is why Dick's relationship with Bruce straddles the line between son and guardian with him playing both roles and Bruce reacting/ forcing him to react that way.

Also

"Robin fuctions as support."

"Robin wasn't your idea, Bruce! It was mine! I sat in your cave and I watched you and I learned-- and when you needed my help I was there!"

"I'm not your employee, I'm not your son. I'm your partner."

One thing that differentiates Dick's robin from the other robins is that while the other Robins were worried about meeting Bruce's expectation, Dick was more worried about Bruce not seeing him as an equal. He ran away from home because he was mad that Bruce was becoming more controlling and not at all like how they used to be - partners.

There's a reason Dick is the only one Bruce views as his equal. It's because the experiences they've shared have woven them so tightly together that Bruce considers Dick his better half and pillar of strength. If he falls back, he can rely on Dick to take over. Emotionally and physically.

Still laughing at your friend lol. Wild

[caitchercatlady]

He'll Have to Go Through Me

-Savanaclaw Version

Leona Kingscholar

Though Leona doesn't often show it, he greatly cares for the people he tolerates. How do you think he still keeps his dorm in order? Ever since his overblot ordeal, Leona sees more potential in you, and it doesn't hurt to have you around. This type of attention from the Savanaclaw Housewarden does make the rest of the dorm jealous, which brings negative attention on yourself. As you are studying in the garden, you end up being ambushed by a few disgruntled Savanaclaw students, threatening you to prove yourself worthy of Leona's rare acknowledgements. Little do they know that they're useless yelling has woken up nearby Leona from his nap, and he's not happy about any of the situation at large.

"My dorm lackeys may have the brawns, but you truly lack the brains. You were so cowardly that instead of taking your anger out on me, you take it out on a freshman. Go ahead. I'm listening."

The cowards "eep" their way out of the garden as fast as their legs can take them. Leona walks up to you and pats you on the head, reassuringly. He reminds you that you have the power to give yourself permission to not deal with idiots, especially when they encroach on your personal space. If you ever need help on how to do that, Leona is there to give you the basics.

Ruggie Bucchi

Like Ruggie is a tease, but he would never stand back and watch bullying happen, especially if it inolves money. He knows about the struggle at home, and those instincts spike at every reminder. Ruggie catches up with you on your way to the cafeteria. He wonders if you're gonna get the special today, but when you worriedly say no, he gets suspicious. You never miss out on the special sandwiches unless something is wrong. You mention that you owe someone money, and he suspects it's your Heartslabyul besties. You shiver at the thought. He stops you and demands to know who is exploiting you, and you ask how Ruggie knows that. Does Ruggie really need to tell you that?

Once learning of this tyrant, Ruggie storms into the cafeteria with a flame of vengeance burning in his belly. He taunts that he knows many a Housewarden who are looking to pay an underclassman to work for them. Considering how the guy's been threatening for lunch money, Ruggie assures him that if he works for either Leona, Azul, Kalim, or Vil, the bully could buy all the meals in the world, so he can skip one meal for one day until then. With that said, Ruggie made it safe for you to purchase your special.

"That'll teach 'em. Money is precious, Prefect. No one is entitled to yours...unless you have them to work for ya, of course. Anyway, if he bothers you again, call me, and I'll enact Plan B, no questions about it."

Jack Howl

Jack, the more you interact with him, may seem like a guy who doesn't care about anyone except himself, but if you're ever in trouble, Jack is there to prove you wrong. It's also clear that due to your reputation as an academic brain for a layperson, you unintentionally gain some enemies. You do your best to ignore their taunting. One day though, your bullies refuse to back down despite your quiet neutrality. They corner you in the halls and demand you get on the ground and submit.

A growling rebuttal sends shivers down to every single delinquint's spine. The last person they expected to interrupt the scuffle was also the very last person they wanted to see (other than the Housewardens, especially Malleus). Justice is the will of the wolf, and if lowlifes are going to pick a fight with a layperson, how about they fight Jack instead, no magic being the only rule? Cowardly as they are, the bullies run off, out of sight. Jack pulls you in for a hug as you are shaken by the interaction that just took place.

"You don't have to deal with any of that. No friend of mine is going to deal with any of that. Ya understand me?"

Jack may not know it, but his comforting side is brushing your fear right out of your body. This warm feeling urges you to latch onto Jack like a cub to its mother. With each "thank you" that you let out, the more Jack's face blushes pink. He knows that no matter how much he tells you not to make such a big deal out of it, it'll fall on deaf ears, so he lets this slide.

[giveafike]

thigh riding with ben….. pleaseeeee 😂

TLDR: You miss Ben so much and you're needy. So when he comes back, you're straddling.

Word count + info: 2.1k! Dialogue, fem reader x B.T.S

Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW - MINORS DNI! Thighriding, hickeys, kissing...that's it I think.

Azzie Notes ✚: Mhmmm you got it! Based off of the poll I did, here's the NSFW blurb u NASTY PEOPLE wanted (kidding, I am just as bad)

Thigh riding blurb is here! I have another draft ready to post, but I'll slow release 'em so I can finish off one story while a new one goes up. I take so long to write im srry : ( but! a few long stories are comin' along. By the time this goes up, I should have 1.5-2 more prompts ready to go?

Do we like longer stories as in like 3k+ word count? Or shorter ones? send me a DM or anon feedback pls I wanna know how I'm doing or if you wish I added things (like more description, more dialogue, more focus on story plot, less extra content) and stuff! Lmk!

————————————————————————

Come Here - B.T.S

It was early when Ben left for training, his morning routine blending quiet focus and unshakable determination. He’d stirred you awake by wrapping his strong arms around you, planting soft kisses on the back of your head, like he always does. Even half-asleep, you watched him from under the covers as he got dressed, catching glimpses of those defined muscles moving while the morning light danced across his skin, with shadows making him look like a model as he pulled on his tennis gear. He flashed you that heart-stopping grin, whispering a soft “Good mornin', see you later,” before leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

Now, hours later, you sat slouched at your kitchen table, dumbfounded pretending to work at home but failing miserably. Ben has been your boyfriend for so long but here you were, squirmish like you just met him. You’d tried everything to distract you; trying to type up emails, playing soft music, making coffee, but nothing could pull your mind from the simmering heat that had taken hold of you since the morning. Your coffee had gone cold, your laptop had entered sleep mode, and all you could think about was Ben. Work wasn’t hard today; your focus was just... elsewhere.

Maybe it was the morning show or maybe it was shortly after that when he left out the door, when you were in bed, squinting at your phone while mindlessly scrolling Twitter. Someone had posted a picture of Ben fresh from a training session, his shirt clinging to his chest, damp curls swept back, legs muscular and defined. Then there was that TikTok edit, showcasing highlights of your man on the court. His veins popped with each power shot, his thick thighs moved like a stallion’s as he manoeuvred with ease, and the intense focus in his eyes, it all did something to you.

The heat rose to your cheeks again just thinking about it as you groaned, throwing your hands over your face. Normally, you’d smirk, knowing all that was yours, but now you were losing it like a fangirl. It was as if you’d been thrown back into the honeymoon phase, when every glance, every accidental brush of his skin would send electricity through your veins. You couldn’t stop imagining the way his thighs flexed beneath those stupid short shorts, the strength in his legs when he held you, and how his hands clenched whenever he secured a set.

You leaned back in your chair, now fanning your face. Nothing was helping the ache building inside of you as you clenched your thighs together. Your phone buzzed with another work notification, but the words blurred. All you could think about was Ben, how bad you wanted him here, how feral you'd be if you could have his solid chest under your hands, the way he whispered obscene things in your ear, and how he’d press you close, body warm and firm against yours.

God, you missed him.

It wasn’t even like he’d been gone for days, but the thought of him out there, sweating and training, only made the hours stretch longer. You were arguing with yourself, trying to get a grip. You resisted the urge to text or call him, knowing he needed to stay focused. If you asked him to come home for a “lunch break,” he would, and he wouldn’t be able to leave you afterwards. And you didn’t want to break his concentration with needy messages about how hot he looked or how badly you wanted him.

By the time 4:00 PM rolled around, all you could think about was him. You’d tried a cold shower to cool yourself down, but it only made your thoughts swirl more. In every room you entered, you could imagine Ben beside or behind you, his presence filling the space; "God if he was here...". Restless, you ended up on the sofa in one of his T-shirts and some shorts, bouncing your leg as you waited. Everything about him that you’d craved all day swirled in your mind. You put on some show on Netflix, and the noise keeps you company as you wait.

Finally, you heard the front door unlock, and before you knew it, you were perked up, staring at the door.

Ben stepped in, fresh from a shower, his face flushed from coming back, his hair still damp and tousled. His clean shirt clung to his broad chest, and his thick thighs filled out his joggers in a way that made your heart race.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted, his voice smooth and relaxed, his drawl slipping through as he set down his bag. That accent of his made your knees like jelly, especially today. His easy smile made you melt on the spot as his gaze landed on you, sitting on the couch but clearly eager. You tried to play it cool, but the way your body practically buzzed with anticipation sold you out.

“What’s goin’ on with you?” Ben laughed softly, resting his hands on his hips.

You bit your lip, fighting the giddy smile threatening to break free. “Nothing...” you muttered trying to be coy, glancing at him through your lashes. “Just missed you.”

Ben’s laugh was warm, amused. “Oh, I can tell,” he teased, moving toward you and sitting beside you on the sofa. His arm stretched across the back of the couch, casually but with enough presence to make your heart skip. “You’re lookin’ at me like I’ve been gone for weeks.”

Your face flushed. It had only been hours, but it felt like weeks with how desperate you were for him. “I couldn’t focus all day, Ben” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper. You leaned into him, inhaling the fresh scent of his shower, biting your lip “Kept thinking about you.”

His smirk widened as his eyes danced with amusement. “Yeah? What exactly were you thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Your gaze dropped to his body, tracing the outline of his strong thighs, his solid chest, his muscular arms resting lazily around you. You swallowed, heat rising in your cheeks as you met his eyes again, and the teasing glint in them made your stomach twist in anticipation.

“You’re somethin’ else,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. He knew exactly what you were getting at. “Come here, baby”.

The second the words left his mouth, you moved. Eagerly, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him without hesitation. His hands gripped your hips, firm but gentle, guiding you closer as you settled on top of him, your heart pounding against your chest.

“There we go, feel better, babe?” Ben murmured, his voice low and teasing, eyes gleaming with tenderness. He leaned back, relaxing into the cushions as his hands slid up your sides, pulling you flush against him.

Your pulse raced, all the tension you’d carried throughout the day melting away in the warmth of his embrace. His thigh was solid beneath you, grounding you, and when his lips brushed yours in a soft, teasing kiss, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“You missed me this bad, huh?” he teased, voice rough with amusement as his lips hovered just over yours.

“More than you know,” you breathed, kissing him again, deeper this time, your fingers threading through his damp hair as his grip on your hips tightened and you let out a moan.

Ben chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through your body. “Damn, maybe I should go to practice more often if this is how I’m welcomed home,” he teased, kissing you slowly, savouring the moment.

You laughed softly against his mouth, pulling back just enough to look at him. “God, please don’t,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You have been driving me crazy.”

He smiled, his hands squeezing your hips as his eyes darkened with affection and desire. “How ‘bout you show me how much you missed me, then?”. He was tugging on his sweatpants with that voice where it dropped to that low, intimate tone that always made your stomach flutter. You pulled his sweatpants down which he kicked off before he slipped his hands through the waistband of your pj shorts, yanking those down, leaving you in your panties. You set yourself back down on him, your hips bucked, your needy motions getting Ben aroused. He smirked as he watched you roll against him.

Your fingers trailed over his chest before gripping the hem of his shirt. With a swift motion, you pulled it over his head, revealing his built torso. Your hands explored his skin, tracing every curve and contour with your nails. He shuddered under your touch, his breathing growing heavier. The sight of him aroused as you worked yourself to an orgasm was heavenly. His boxers grew tighter, his breathing more laboured and all you were doing was grinding on his lap.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses and hickeys along his jawline. You suckled and gnawed, trailing your teeth over him, making Ben throw his head back in a groan. His hands found your hips, gripping tightly as he guided your movements down hard against him. The friction was intoxicating, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You both found a rhythm as Ben moved up into you, bucking his leg up and moving it in a delicious, teasing way.

You felt his fingers slip under the fabric of your shirt, caressing the small of your back. The heat of his touch ignited your skin, leaving you craving more. With a soft moan, you captured his lips in a passionate kiss, tongues dancing as the intensity between you built to a fever pitch. Ben's hands glided up your back as he ran a tongue on your bottom lip, pushing forward into your mouth. He breaks the kiss to pull his t-shirt off of you, and the cool air hits your skin, causing goosebumps to rise. His eyes raked over your exposed flesh, a low growl escaping his throat.

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, voice husky with desire.

You felt a blush creep across your cheeks at his words. Even after all this time, he still had the power to make you feel like the only woman in the world. His lips found yours again, more urgent, more hungry this time. You melted into the kiss, letting yourself get lost in the sensation. Your hands roamed his body, fingernails lightly scraping down the back of his shoulders. Ben shivered in response, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck. You could feel your climax coming, the feeling of him roaming you all over sending you into overdrive.

“That’s it, keep goin’ baby, cum on me” he murmured against your skin, planting wet kisses. Ben lavished attention on your collarbone, alternating between gentle kisses and playful nips as his hands played with your breasts. As your hips moved with a mind of their own, Ben held you tightly, his hands steadying you as you rode out the waves of pleasure, watching you throw your head back and let waves of moans leave your mouth.

His eyes never left your face as he smiled watching you come down from your high. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, your heart pounding and your breathing laboured. You could feel your core twitch and thrum against him, ready for more as you left a pool on his leg. You hear Ben chuckle and rub your back softly.

“What a pretty mess you've made,” he said, his voice soft and warm, “guess it’s a good thing we’ve got the whole evenin’ together”.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing as you looked up at him, pressing his lips to yours once more. The kiss deepened, slow but intense, the kind that made you feel like everything outside this moment had disappeared. His hands slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as the tension you’d felt all day finally unravelled. You melted into him, letting yourself get lost in the warmth of his embrace.

The TV in the background played a forgotten Netflix show, but neither of you cared. All you wanted was right here, him, his arms around you, and the undeniable pull between you that made it feel like nothing else mattered.

[yelspyder]

gnt do ceu, fico tao feliz de encontrar outro br 😍😍

poderia pedir miguel x reader, em q a lyla percebe q ele gosta do reader e ela tenta dar um jeitinho p ajudar o miguel

enfim oq só as melhores i.a podem fazer😉

˚‧⁺.-"All you need is to be struck by one of Cupid's arrows"

↳ summary: Miguel lives in denial about his little crush, so Lyla is forced to help.

↳ characters: Miguel O'Hara

↳ Gn! Spidey Reader

↳ notes: another brazilian? I didn't think I'd find another one, but it's a pleasant surprise. we must stick together 💪Honestly, I don't have much confidence in my writing, but I hope you like it and thanks for asking.

Miguel was in love and it was obvious. At least for Lyla. He occasionally glared at you, looked like an abandoned puppy when you left, and was absolutely more than willing to do anything you asked.

What irritated Lyla the most was that he never had the nerve to ask you out. Come up to you and ask for a mission report? That was easy for Miguel. Send you on a complicated mission? Pft, he did that almost all the time. But simply asking you out? He had no idea how to do this, not that he planned to do that.

She couldn't take Miguel anymore with the face of a dog that fell off a moving truck when you're not around. It wasn't hard to ask you out. If Miguel didn't do it, she would do it for him herself. Deciding to change that, Lyla started checking Miguel's schedule and your own. Lyla smiled when she found a vague moment in common in the two schedules. Now, it was simple. All Lyla had to do was make a date and everything would be fine.

Miguel was confused when he got a notification from his schedule saying he had an event in two hours. He was pretty sure he didn't have any other meetings that day.

As soon as he checked his calendar and saw that he had an appointment with you, he panicked and called Lyla, demanding an answer.

"Lyla, what does that mean? You take care of my schedule and I never set up this meeting." His heart was beating fast now. A date with you? This could only be a joke.

Lyla materialized beside Miguel and glared at him with a mischievous smile before speaking. "That's exactly what you saw, boss. You have this meeting in two hours. You better start getting ready and maybe even buy some gifts. People like presents, you know?"

"But I never scheduled this meeting!" Miguel looked at Lyla with a mixture of anger, despair, and confusion. "Exactly why I, your amazing assistant, did this for you. If it were up to you, you would be stranded for the rest of your life."

"I never gave you permission to do this-" "But now it's done. At this point, the calendar notification has arrived and has probably already been read. There's no way to stop it anymore. And since I'm a very generous assistant, I'll help you get dressed for your first date with your crush."

At this point, he was mortified not knowing how to respond. He would never have expected to go on a date like this. Miguel didn't answer anything and just stood there, not knowing what to do.

"Don't worry boss, you'll thank me later. Oh, and the appointment I made is in earth 57, at that restaurant you like to go to. I made a reservation in your name."

After taking a moment to compose himself, Miguel still wanted to argue with Lyla, but he already knew he couldn't cancel the meeting anymore. He sighed before speaking. "Just....guide me"

Lyla laughed excitedly and began to ramble on about which outfit he should wear.

Hours later, Miguel could be seen wearing a casual outfit and with a bouquet of flowers sitting at the table while waiting for you. As soon as you arrived and greeted him, he quickly got up from the chair he was sitting in and greeted you back, offering you the bouquet of flowers. You can barely thank him before he pulls out a chair for you to sit down.

He was slightly flushed in the face the entire dinner while you carried on a casual conversation. At first, Miguel only gave a few short and brief answers because he was embarrassed. However, after some time of conversation, he opened up more and it really started to have a date atmosphere.

Right after the two finished eating, Miguel insisted on paying the bill. He ended up accompanying you for a short night walk in Central Park and, before you opened a portal and returned to your house, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek thanking you for the pleasant encounter.

Miguel was paralyzed for a while after you left, but he traced his cheek with his hand as a small, dreamy smile formed on his lips.

Maybe what Lyla had done wasn't all bad.

Maybe...

[katabay]

full body commissions, at long last!

the base price is $100 for a single figure, and then you add on the price for colors if you want that! flat color prices vary on complexity. if you have someone in a suit, then it's just +$30, but it's more like a complex period costume, then it's closer to +$40-50 (same for simple renders)

(simple renders are not an additional fee on top of the flat colors! I realize that it might be a little confusing, flat colors + simple renders is it's own thing, which starts at +$40)

anything over $100 can be paid either in it's entirety up front, or $100 up front, and the rest once completed (for this, I'll send a lower resolution jpeg of the finished illustration when it's finished, and the high res png when the payment goes through)

visual references are a big help! either art of the character, or things like a face claim or actor. if you have a character from a specific time period, please also send references of the clothes you'd like them in! if you have a pose in mind, feel free to tell me! It can be anything from standing around, to sitting down, jumping, etc.

these prices are for private commissions only! which means you can go ahead and get 'em printed or whatever for your own personal use but you can't use them commercially

currently, I don't have prices for a commission with a second full body figure! if you really want something like that, we can work out a price.

I'm also using a dead line weight in these examples, but if you want something that looks more like the inking style that I use in Trikaranos, just let me know!

🍊 commissions will be on a 10x15 in canvas at 300dpi :)

🍊 email me at machiavellerie@gmail.com, and we can talk details! I use paypal for payment, do not send me money ahead of time because this is not my paypal email and I use invoices.

if I don't reply in like, a day, feel free to message me here and I'll give you my other email where we can hash out details because sometimes, the perils of having an email on public display is that people will sign your email up for junk mail and it takes a minute to mark it all as spam

things I'll draw: established characters, ocs, your favorite dead roman or greek hero, I'm cool with it all!

things I won't draw: generally, I'm not too keen on drawing anyone under 18, as you may realize from the fact that many characters on my blog are vaguely in their 30s. like, it's not a hard rule, but I will fully admit right here that I'm better at drawing people over 20.

(also! again. money this month sucks, and the economy is honestly just a huge bummer for literally everyone everywhere. if my prices for full body comms are out of your range, I'm cool to do payments in $50 a month installments!)

[ligiawrites]

Answer to win some cool prizes!

Hello, everyone!

I hope you’re all safe and healthy. Would you like to win a pack of exclusive keys to all of my games? 

I’d LOVE to hear from you and understand you all better, so I prepared a quick survey that is completely anonymous and should take you no more than 5 minutes to answer. As a Thank You for sharing your opinion with me, you can choose to join a special giveaway! 

Four people will receive a pack of keys to:

ALL of the current and future content in "Love the Guard, Be The King" (Book one), 

An exclusive key to access the Supporters version of LtGBtK, now with more than 130k words (almost twice as much as the public version),

A key to my newest game, "Trek to Dead Water," so you can already play the demo, way before the public release in December. 

Cool, innit?

And if the winner is already a supporter on ko-fi (and thus already has all of these), they may choose between a fully painted portrait of ANY character they want OR a short story (of around 600 words) featuring any two characters they want*.

To join the giveaway, just answer THIS survey: https://forms.gle/XoFmE4CrZidcvB1c8 and please remember to leave a comment in THIS post (or this here post on Tumblr xD) so I can contact you if you win. If you have any questions, just send me a message on Tumblr or Itch.io.

This survey will be open from August 21 to September 21/2024, and I'll announce one winner per week starting on August 28. I'll make weekly announcements on my Tumblr, and a final announcement with all the winners on itch.

I hope to hear from you!

Kisses, Ligia / Ursa em Percurso

*content limitations: no explicitly NSFW content.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.1

I thank my lucky stars every night that Yoko eventually got sick of playing secret-keeper.

Paul: I didn't leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles . . . John said he wanted a divorce. Alright, so do I. See how they say “Beatles” and they mean each other sometimes?

Derek Taylor on John's position on the break-up: if Paul were to approach him and say “let's do it together again” he probably would; with no more words, he would probably do it. Which is an insane claim to make to a world full of people grieving the greatest band to ever exist unless you are very very sure of that probability. But if it's true that that's all it would have taken, and Paul didn't do it? That hurts my head a little. Do we think he was just hurt too bad to want it back? Do we think he didn't know he had that kind of power? Do we think he was glad to be free of the group?

Ugh my heart can't take it. I'd cry too, John, watching that. I mean look at how they are looking at each other. Look at everything they've lost in a year. I'd bawl like a baby too.

Paul sends John a long, thorough letter, begging for them to legally end their partnership outside of a court. John's run out of cards at this point, but he still doesn't want to lose Paul, so he's just going to play dumb.

This is how bad he doesn't want to lose him, actually: he goes along with Klein in tricking Paul this time. Calls him up and asks him to come to the studio for a jam session, because it'll hurt his case in court. But for multiple reasons – the Eastmans were knowledgeable lawyers, and Paul might not have even wanted to be in a room with John at the time anyway – Paul doesn't come. Which John would've been hurt and angry over, no matter his motives.

"They tell you to stop crying at about age twelve. Be a man. What the hell's that?" I'm so proud of John for his (albeit long and backsliding) journey out of his toxic masculinity and violence. Something I honestly don't see him achieving without Yoko.

And from that quote it transitions to Paul in Scotland, looking like the embodiment of depression, as the opening of “Isolation” plays. It's perfect.

“And don't try to come over here. Or you might get in some trouble.” The way he just froze when he saw them filming him and then the next thing we see is him threatening them? Get ‘em, babe!

John sounds so giddy about this one-upping competition with Paul. I'll scare him and then he'll scare me!

The whole Lennon Remembers era is such a terrible case of diarrhea of the mouth in general, but the amount of homophobic language is quite striking compared to how John talked before and after.

John, talking about George in Rolling Stone: "he was working with two fucking brilliant songwriters and he learned a lot from us." People read that quote and just parrot it like they do with everything John said in this period and act like George had nothing to be angry over. He had every right to be much angrier and hold a much bigger grudge than he did.

And about George's new record, which was phenomenal and brilliant, John is transparently jealous and so cruel. If he'd said that about me and then asked me to play on his new record I'd tell him to go to hell. Why did George do it?

See and everyone who knows John knows how much he loved Brian and to hear him speaking so crassly and cruelly about Brian must've been a sure indication to them to just take the entire interview through that lense of “oh he's just saying shit”. But that's only the people who knew him. Everyone else for the rest of time took this shit as constitutional. And it pisses me off. It should be locked away in a vault somewhere and no one is allowed to listen to it until they've passed some kind of Beatles and emotional intelligence tests.

This crushes my soul. How warped must his definition of love have been by that point that he genuinely believed Phil Spector and Allen Klein loved him more than Paul and George did? It's bonkers.

John in 1967: all you need is love! John in 1971: the point of life is to manipulate people. . . . What the hell happened to you, buddy?

I go back and forth as to who's the smarter PR person: John or Yoko? Because maybe she's right. Maybe they shouldn't divulge that they're master manipulators. But is this one of those times when it's good to be all “look how honest we are about this! We're not hiding anything! We're saying bad things about ourselves too! So you should believe us about everything else!”

Really this documentarian should be hired to make all the music videos for all the Beatles and solo songs. This one for “Too Many People” is perfect. Paul walking into court with a full beard and a confident stride, John and Yoko in bed, Paul horse riding overlayed on Linda's gorgeous face like she's some goddess, designing his fate. All of it is just pure brilliance.

I'm forever laughing at just the title of the song, too. Because to John and Yoko it was so important that they were Weird and Off-putting. Different. Revolutionary. And to say “no. You're not special. There's actually an excess of people like you.” Is so funny to me.

“When she wants an A side, that's when we start fighting.” Oh gosh. Remember how I said he backslides a lot in his feminism journey? Yeah…

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know he meant to say it's weird to be best friends with a woman. But it sounds like he's saying it's weird to fuck a woman. Which maybe he subconsciously means both idk.

Paul: we need to legally dissolve the partnership because it's the only way we're attached anymore. Ouch. Okay it's true. It's deserved. But that must've stung for the guy who was terrified of losing people. Must've sent him into fight or flight.

I think the point of this framing is to say that if they'd had facetime back then, instead of just crackly phone lines, HDYS would not have been written. Not with those puppy eyes staring him down like that.

Interviewer: the song wasn't even funny though. John: well I think it's hilarious. Interviewer: hmm. Lol I love hearing interviewers talk to John about his lyrics like he's a real guy doing a real job, though. Imagine a music critic now saying John Lennon wasn't clever in his lyrics. You can't, yeah. Me either.

What a slap in the face to Cynthia. Guess she wasn't Cool Girl enough. Should've gone girled him. That would be an excellent fic. Cyn and Jane gone girl their idiot bfs and John and Paul realize they're in love on death row. But anyway, yeah. If Paul would've just pet John's head . . .

Another absolutely bonkers thing to say. That's something the Rockstar’s ex wife says in a documentary ten years after he's dead, not something a songwriting partner says, completely unprompted, in an exiting the band interview.

And then he goes off on what I see as a self-soothing diatribe on Paul the family man. You can see the hoops he jumped through to get himself there. What did Paul want that I couldn't give him? A family. And is that justified? Absolutely not, only pussies and conservatives want families.

Allan Klein: were you and Paul ever really close, then? John: no. John: not that I didn't love him. I did. It's just that every time I let my guard down, he hurt me. Holy shit. At this point, after getting hit in the face with so much of John's Paul-made pain with nothing from the other side but pictures of the happy McCartney family, I'm genuinely feeling quite angry at Paul. Me. An extremely biased Paul girl who knows it's far more complicated and multi-dimensional than this. No wonder the uninformed public fucking hated his guts.

And as they're showing this quote, “I didn't want to hurt you,” plays mournfully in the background. They really are so twisted up in each other there's no separating individual identities.

Okay so he's a psychopath. So what? He's the sexiest man that ever was or ever will be. He's allowed to be a horrible person. No, but really. He's Get Back Paul but healthier. He's done with his depression drinking and he's been spending a lot of time proving he's still useful enough to exist by building fences and shearing sheep.

And this is how Paul talks about George to interviews. John said Klein made ATMP a success but Paul disagrees. "George recorded it all, wrote it all, did it all, wasn't anything to do with [Klein]. It was George's victory, wasn't it?" Compare that to how John does it and tell me again why the hell George is Team John?

What is Paul's obsession with daddies? Actually I know exactly what the obsession with daddies comes from, but we won't get into that here. I do find it interesting that in ‘69 he's saying “we do need a sort of central daddy figure.” And in ‘71 he's deriding John needing one and won't let John's daddy of choice touch him with a hundred foot pole.

I tend to think Paul chafes against authority in general, but that's actually not right. He never had a problem with George Martin. I think it's just abusive authority or authority he doesn't trust yet.