#TOLT

[equinesandeducation]

Lesson time!! Trying to give Frelsi some more experience away from home, so we had a lesson off property. Didn’t expect there would be quite so many trailers or miniature pigs, but we roll with the punches 🤪🐷 Frelsi was great and we focused on getting back our connection even though our surroundings were scary and strange. V proud!!!

[copperbora]

Drew a whole bunch of pretty ponies for people on Twitter today and I will be drawing more soon. ❤️

Commissions are always open, (via my Ko-fi,) and I just added some more types of commissions to my Ko-fi shop if anyone is interested. 🥰 Any help is appreciated! (Student loans hurrrrt.)

[seggarckollekcio]

Vinnyogok

[superthatguy62]

The Differences and Influence of  the Final Fantasy 1 manga

While Final Fantasy is certainly no stranger to adaptations and alternate media, it’s mostly towards the later entries such as VII or XV depending on how you feel about such media, this may not be a bad thing.

When it comes to the first three entries, their adaptations are the most mysterious: Final Fantasy III got an absolutely insane manga, Final Fantasy II got a somewhat insane novelization and Final Fantasy I has an obscure manga. As these came out long ago in Japan and were rarely, if ever, re-released, knowledge on these media remains scarce.

However, TrafalgarScans on MangaDex has translated the entirety of the Final Fantasy I manga, allowing english readers to experience it for the first time.

And, while a straightforward retelling of the original game, there are a few interesting elements in it. Elements that may seem somewhat familiar if you’ve Dissidia or Stranger of Paradise Final Fantasy Origin.

Before we begin, I’m going to be doing something different from my previous discussions: Rather than doing a summary/play-by-play of the manga, I’m mostly going to be talking about things I noticed, whether they be different... or indirectly indicative of where Square would take FF1 in the future. As that implies, I will be discussing spoilers for Dissidia and Strangers of Paradise.

For context: The manga was written Kaimejii Yuu and was released in 1989: 2 years after the first game landed on Famicom, one year before it arrived on NES and the same year as the MSX port. So rejoice Space Station!Flying Fortress fans.

Let’s start with one of the obvious ones: 

The Party

The original Final Fantasy centers around four Warriors of Light who mysteriously appear, each with a crystal fragment.

In the manga, we are introduced to the members of the party bit by bit: First, there is Puffy who seems to be a traveling Warrior.

Puffy later meets Flitz/Fritz, a Monk who was kicked out of his monastery for his vices.

A Monk and a Warrior. Seems standard so far. But then there are the other 2 members.

Matoya, a witch who is skilled with black magic.

And the fourth party member... who isn’t introduced until quite a ways in. While Sarah and Bikke both join the party, the true forth member turns out to be none other than

Bahamut, the king of dragons.

Naturally, this is a pretty big deviation: Matoya and Bahamut are NPCs in the game after, but here, they’re main characters. Matoya would go on to be a prominent character in FF1, even being playable in spinoffs for what it’s worth. However, I don’t think there are many FF1 interpretations that put the NPCs in the WoL roles.

They’re not the only ones different, however

The Villains

The Final Fantasy manga follows a somewhat condensed version of the game. It’s actually kinda close to how Memory of Heroes did it, with the focus largely on Garland and the Four Fiends, concluding with a bout against Chaos.

Garland generally keeps his overall role, including his infatuation with Sarah (which makes me wonder what was the first media to touch on that aspect of him) but also has some significant differences: He doesn’t wear armor, he doesn’t seem to die before vanishing and the manga more blatantly sets up the plot twist by showing Garland entering the Dark Crystal. Only Flitz notices though, so he’s the first to realize that Garland’s behind everything once the Warriors learn about the whole she-bang from the Lufenians.

There’s also his name, but we’ll get to that.

The Warriors are promptly attacked by the Four Chaos/Fiends. There’s the Lich, who is looking positively Mobius!Chaos today.

Then we have Marilith, who looks about how you’d expect.

Then we have Kraken... Who is...

And last but not least, we have Tiamat, who has both a monster form and a humanlike form.

And then there’s Chaos, whose design is vaguely reminiscent of how Garland’s armor would evolve from Dissidia onwards mixed with traits from his Chaos form.

Oh yeah, Garland. Did you know that’s not his full name in this adaptation? Yup, long before “Jack Garland” would use the last name Garland, this Garland had the full name of “Red Garland”.

And here’s where we start to get into the influence that this manga may or may not have had on Square-Enix’s future interpretations of Final Fantasy 1.

The Backstory

In the games, the Warriors of Lights’ backstory is left unexplained. This plays into the role-play/”create a party” aspect of the game: It’s up to the player, if they so chose, to fill in the blanks about who their characters are and where they came from.

Memory of Heroes, being a close adaptation of the games, leaves its characters’ backstories ambiguous outside of tying a further connection to Garland as his time shenanigans “unchained” the Warriors of Light and wiped their memories, explaining why they can remember nothing and why nobody recognizes them.

Dissidia Final Fantasy, while not directly touching upon the events of FF1 itself, gives a backstory to its Warrior of Light: He’s a perfect manikin created by Cid of the Lufaine and placed within the cycles of conflict. Over time, he grows into more of an actual person and continuously comes to blows with Garland, who already knows him from the cycle back home. In the end, WoL ends up in the FF1 world and sets off on his journey, determined to not only save the world from Chaos but to free Garland from the endless cycle he unwittingly trapped himself in.

The manga, however, gives a more detailed backstory.

Early in Chapter 2, Puffy explains that she is not actually from that world; In another dimension, she worked at an inn and was just an ordinary girl. However, on her way to visit her friend Matoya, she winds up slipping through a dimensional barrier. When she wakes up, she’s surrounded by the circle of sages who explain the situation to her and send her off to fight Chaos, despite her attempts to argue otherwise. Puffy later meets up with a different version of Matoya, and soon after the manga begins.

This is largely forgotten about until climax, where it becomes much more important:

As one of Lufenia’s Knights of Gaia/Sky Warriors, one of the bats in the Chaos Shrine explains a bit further: It’s not just Puffy, all four of the Warriors apparently hail from other dimensions. The Knights figured that the best way to stop Chaos was to get four people from parallel worlds that Chaos did not exist in, resulting in heroes with fresh perspectives from worlds in which the crystals were not compromised. Thus they set up barriers that would link the five worlds together and the four Warriors of Light seen in the manga wound up being the four that were chosen (the manga mostly focuses on Puffy, but the implication is that Flitz, Bahamut and that version of Matoya all hail from similar parallel worlds). After Chaos is defeated, the four end up being sent back to their own worlds with no memory of their adventure. Puffy in particular goes back to being an innkeeper and serves drinks to various patrons... including Garland who, although rejected by Sarah yet again, has not turned into Chaos and is an overall decent guy.

What makes the dimensional stuff even more surprising is the meta aspect: Either great minds think alike, the parallel world stuff was in the Japanese FF1 or Square Enix took inspiration from this very manga.

Dissidia Final Fantasy is a big fat crossover featuring the protagonists from the first couple games. While the first game was somewhat ambiguous, Dissidia 012 (the prequel) would establish that the game took place on World B: A destroyed parallel counterpart to World A, which is the world of Final Fantasy 1. The reports in 012 would also establish that Onrac stumbled upon a dimensional gate which would be how they acquired the ore that allowed them to produce manikins. 

Stranger of Paradise takes the parallels even further. The concept of Lufenians drawing in people from parallel worlds to function as Warriors of Light was embodied in the Stranger Project. However, it turns out that the manga beat them to the punch with Knights of Gaia’s dimensional barriers. Of course, the KoG were benevolent compared to the SoP Lufenians who were malevolent. The concept of summoning warriors from other worlds would naturally be used there too, although in 012′s case, it’s due to Shinryu’s influence creating gateways.

And speaking of...

The Lufenians

The Lufenians are a simple, standard “Ancient Civilization with advanced tech (TM)” that was common in fantasy stories and would become a recurring trend in Final Fantasy, one that still remains even to this day. As far as plot significance go, they remain primarily in the background: They’re one of the civilizations the WoLs encounter their space station is the Semi-final dungeon and their champions were turned into bats that infodump a number of aspects about the overarching plot. 

Then there’s Cid. In the original Final Fantasy, while the airship is said to be a Lufenian creation I think, I need to fact that that, there’s no mention of any particular Lufenian who created it. Later versions would name the Lufenian “Cid”, in keeping with series tradition of naming the prominent airship engineer “Cid”. Memory of Heroes gave a Cid a more prominent role, leaving behind video projections to show what happened to the Flying Fortress, entrusting the warp cube to the robots and burying the airship that the Warriors of Light find and use to travel in the later half of the story.

However, Cid’s actions are actually somewhat familiar.

In the manga, a Lufenian (not Cid, though with the benefit of hindsight and how SE would’ve handled it, he may as well be) features prominently in the intro, leaves one of the robots to gather the warp cubes in preparation for the day the Warriors of Light arrive and leaves behind a video projection, with the man himself being long dead by then. Not!Cid’s exposition is different though, tying into how the energies from the four shrines can be seen converging on the Chaos Shrine from the Space Station as well as discussing the Knights of Gaia for a bit.

There’s also the dark crystal. In Final Fantasy, Garland is seen in front of a dark crystal in the Chaos Shrine. When the Warriors travel back to the past, they play the lute in front of the shrine, transforming the crystal into a portal. Stranger of Paradise would explain the crystal as being a “Dimensional Crystal Matrix”, sent to them by their unnamed collaborator.

Again, however, this is not the first time this has happened.

Turns out, the Dark Crystal in the manga is a “Time-Space Transfer Device”. The Knights of Gaia had used the device to set up the barriers to summon warriors from other worlds. However, Chaos took control of the device soon afterwards and used it to set up the time loop that would bring him to power. Coincidence or not, the manga Lufenians’ usage of the device would be echoed in the aforementioned two different aspects (the Dimensional Crystal Matrix and the Stranger Project). SoP would also echo the element of Garland taking control of the device for his own uses.  

Conclusion

In the Stranger of Paradise Confidential Files -Secret Chapters- (An official complete guide - Thanks ChrysalisThoughts for the clarification! ), one of the questions posed to the developers is why Jack’s station is known as “Station 19″. While the final game has its own independent time loop, apparently it was named after SoP being the 19th time Final Fantasy 1 was ported/remade at the time, with the idea of different strangers being dispatched from different stations for each of the remakes.

While that plan ultimately didn’t fully pan out, the implication of Final Fantasy 1 having parallel worlds or a connection to other worlds in general is one that has echoed throughout the franchise.

- The Final Fantasy manga utilizing the concept of parallel worlds for its protagonists.

- The Souls of Chaos dungeons featuring prominent bosses from the other 5 Nintendo-era Final fantasy games.

- Dissidia introducing “World B” with 012 establishing it of being a parallel world to the world of the original Final Fantasy

- Memory of Heroes implying that the Warriors of Light of its three adaptations (and perhaps beyond) either inherit the will/souls of the previous ones or are the previous ones reincarnated in another world.

- And Stranger of Paradise’s original intentional of having parallel worlds, along with its hinted connection to World B

It’s looking more and more like a DC multiverse, especially if you flub things to suggest that each interpretation is its own parallel world.

But, in a way, it’s oddly fitting. Final Fantasy is a game that has you make your own party. The game gives no detail as to their character or backstory. You’re encouraged to fill in the blanks yourself, hence why fanfics and such can vary wildly with how everyone ca reinterpret the story. In a way, it’s fitting that SE themselves get in on it. And it’s interesting how, almost every time, multi-dimensional shenanigans manage to get involved.

I dunno.

I just think it’s neat.

[elucubrare]

the nyt spelling bee not letting me have "tarn"....

[caterpillarinacave]

I love Charlotte and Henry and they're super underrated. And I would VERY MUCH like to hear the headcanons whirring about in your brain.

Oh well buckle up cause literally all I think about is head cannons. Like, you know how cells replace themselves every few years? Mine have replaced themselves with head cannons. *Sorry it took me a hot moment to answer this ask, I was busy howling into my pillow whenever I tried to articulate thoughts.*

First of all, they’re very cuddly. They basically sleep on top of each other (Charlotte hasn’t needed a pillow in decades). Henry cant sleep well without Charlotte in his arms and Charlotte can’t sleep well anywhere other than Henry’s arms so it works out. Plus, they both do that thing where they jerk awake like the world is ending and scare the shit out of each other, so sleeping in a hug that basically pins them both down saves some energy at 2am. Henry’s perpetually cold and sleeps under like, four blankets, so Charlotte just wears summer nightgowns all year and wraps herself around Henry like a koala.

Naturally there’s an angsty side to the incessant cuddling because that’s just the way I role.

Charlotte sleeps with her head on Henry’s chest so she can always feel him breathing because, by the angel, she remembers when he wasn’t. She sleeps with a hand on his pulse point because she wakes up in the middle of the night and she’s still half asleep they might as well be on the floor in that mountain and she might as well still be desperately swearing she didn’t imagine his heartbeat.

While on the topic of soul crushing feelings of guilt, y’all remember from Clockwork Angel that Henry was the one who told Mortmain what a Pyxis was? And he wanted Charlotte to tell the clave that and she wouldn’t because “they already treat him so badly”? Because I do. And so does Henry.

(I’ve got a whole WIP that I love very dearly about this head cannon and this chess game hehe) There’s one random old tutor who goes to the London institute once a month-ish, basically to hand out a few weeks of homework to any shadow hunters who don’t have their own tutors. Most shadow hunters who live in a more rural area show up a few times a year so the clave knows they’re alive and at least somewhat literate. Charlotte attends them every month since, you know, she lives there, but Henry lives somewhere around Yorkshire so he shows up every few months. The professor is kind of a dick ngl. He doesn’t help Charlotte with any school why would a woman need to be so well educated? “Go on find a husband and stop worrying you’re pretty little head” sort of shit. Henry drives him insane because he’s a) some random kid who’s smarter than him and b) didn’t use any of the professors materials to get that smart. Professor Douche is constantly trying to get him to be wrong about something, or at least flustered about something and he doesnt ever do either of those things, and even more aggravating he refuses to get upset. (He honestly just assumed the professor wasn’t that smart.)

Charlotte’s a really good student of course, but she’s having a shit time with some mathematics and the professor absolutely refuses to help her with it. Eventually she asks Henry if he wouldn’t mind helping her with it, which he’s happy to do (once he figures out that’s what shes actually asking lol.)

Charlotte is incredibly distracted the entire time by Henry’s freckles (and eyes. And hands. And the way his hair curls on the nape of his neck. And the spots of gold and green in his hazel eyes that flashed as bright as the sun when the light catches them. And-), but they get through it in an hour or two which leaves them alone in a deserted wing of the institute. They end up playing a game chess. Charlottes a decent player and thought since Henry had never showed any interest in chess it would be a probably be an evenly matched game. She didn’t know what hit her. He beat her in like, eight minutes, eighty percent of which were spent on the last two moves by Charlotte who, upon realizing she was fucked, spent five minutes staring at the board trying to figure out when he even started beating her. She was sitting there having a whole crisis, (she’d been distracted by a man who probably doesn’t like her, and certainly doesn’t think much of her now after a pathetic loss like that and now she’ll have to sit hear and wallow in failure-) just preparing for him to start that whole smug gloating thing men do when they win and Henry you know. Didn’t. He just put the pieces away and thanked her for the game, in that very genuine way, with the gloomy London evening light casting a depressing shadow across the room, a shadow that he stood out against all gentle, kind, bright and brimming with a sort of barely contained passion. If Charlotte had ever doubted that shadow hunters had come from straight angels then sitting there, looking at a boy stained in soot, who she loved more than anything else to walk the earth, she would never doubt it again.

(It wasn’t until after Henry won and noticed Charlotte hadn’t said anything in a while that he remember people don’t like losing. Honestly he was playing just to be around her and he would have thrown the game if he could conceptualize how to do that on the fly. They spent like five minutes in autistic silence waiting for the other to stand up and declare newfound hatred.)

In true British fashion the a modern tea bag would kill them both.

When they were both 13 or 14 Charlotte mentioned she was dreading winter because it’s so bleak and dark (and her mom had died a few winters before, though she didn’t drop that in casual conversation). Anyways, come winter Henry brought her a marigold preserved in something like resin. She kept it in her jewelry box for years and after they got married she found out he had literally dozens of them. Whenever he came across a particularly bright flower he preserved it and set it aside. He was never quite brave enough to give them to her pre-TID, but he now leaves them for her when she’s particularly sad or stressed. She keeps them all in a drawer- they fit together like little tiles, and still look as fresh as they would had they just been plucked from the ground.

Somewhat surprisingly Henry doesn’t really lose stuff, with the singular exception being his own medical equipment. He’s lost the leg braces he wears every single day of his life before. Charlotte’s not usually speechless but she wasn’t sure what to say to that one.

Henry gave Charlotte a watch with a hands and numbers that can glow the same way a modern day one would. It’s absolutely beautiful, durable and accurate, even if Henry set himself on fire at least four times making it. (They can say with confidence that that watch is fireproof)

—-

Honestly, I could go on and on, then on some more, but technically I’m supposed to be writing a paper on gut micro biomes that’s due tomorrow, so I figured I’d cut myself of. In conclusion, I love them dearly, they love each-other dearly, they deserve the world, all I can think about is them, and the world can pry them out of my cold dead hands.

[hearteyesdiaz]

When you don't realize how drunk you are until you're sitting down to pee

[goinggoats]

especially in my first year in restoration, I would save pins of places I worked. with more recent jobs this is all fine and good, but I'm looking through my pins and going, "this is literally someone's private farm. i cannot go visit this place without trespassing or at least staring at it from the road. why did i save this."

[justmythings-stuff]

Anon ma a scuola vai con le stampelle? Non è scomodissimo? 🥲

Pubblico

[p4w]

i wanna go driving but i dont have anywhere to go and i dont wanna waste my brothers gas .

[kiwie-not-kiwi]

Hi, ‘Tolt ! ☀️🍎

[coeurify]

idk if you’re comfortable with writing this (it’s okay if not no worries!) but gunplay w abby who forces you to suck the barrel and threatens to fuck you/shoot you with it if you don’t do a good enough job 🫣

- 🐾

okkk so i changed it a bit but its still pistol sucking hehe!

warnings 18+ , dom/sub dynamic, the use of “dumb” and calling reader stupid, pistol sucking, i guess you could say fear play. reader is into how dangerous it is basically.

<3__ <3 __ <3 __ <3 __ <3 __ <3

The very first sensation you could pick out behind the black of your tightly closed eyes was something cool against your cheek. Something that pressed into the plush skin, drawing a sharp intake of air from your shaking lips. A disapproving tsk came next, escaping into the stuffy air of the room above you.

She was always above you.

As you shifted your knees, the flesh burned against the ragged carpet, the scratchy green material itching over your raw, bruised knees. The familiarity of being beneath her was unsurprising in this moment, even comforting.

What was surprising was the cool feeling, a chill sweeping through your body. Your eyes squeezed even further, bursts of color confined behind you shut lids as you tried to figure out what the shape was.

Round maybe? A frigid, rounded tip delicately traced beneath your chin, coaxing it upward.

“Open your eyes baby,” the voice gently commanded. It sent a warm rush through your spine, insides liquidly at the croon of Abby’s voice. Her voice that was always syrupy sweet to your pliant, submission-tinted brain– no matter how fucked up the situatuon may be. A moth to a fucking flame, your eyes blinked open, vision blurry as your face tolted more, the unmistakable shape of the blonde coming to view as your pupils adjusted to the light.

You knew why you were here. Why you had been shoved to your knees the moment you and Abby stumbled upon this rundown hotel. No resistance surfaced as her firm grip shoved you through the door, her voice, your siren song, falling silent only after demanding you to close your eyes.

You cant pinpoint how long you stayed like that, palms damp against your knees, eyelashes delicately grazing your undereyes, keeping them shut obediently.

“Do you know what’s under your chin?” Abby hummed, crouching down to your level, one strand of soft blonde hair falling in front of her face, her shoes squeaking softly as they bent to conform to her position.

One hand, the hand holding whatever object was pressing painfully under your chin, twisting as a tongue poked its way out from her lips, cerulean eyes blown out as her gaze falls downward.

“N-no,” you exhaled, fingers digging into the denim of your jeans, ignoring the heat that grew between your legs as Abby stared at you, eyebrows narrowed, tension etched on her face.

You’d really fucked up.

“Use your eyes, you're smart enough to do that, arent you?” the blonde taunted, casually flicking her wrist to press the object against you again.

You knew you deserved this, hell– you wanted this.

Hesitating, you shifted your head away from it’s position, chin dipping down in sync with your eyes, blinking rapidly as Abby’s pistol came into view. Of course.

“It’s your gun, abs,” you reply a moment later, lowering your voice to be as soft as possible, looking up through your eyelashes, acting on your best behavior, desperate to weaken Abby’s resolve.

But Abby was a stubborn girl, one who stook to her word, her decisions. Her punishments.

“Maybe she does have a brain up there after all,” Abby mocks, the pistol's barrel tracing the line of your neck as you swallow audibly. “Why do you think i’m holding my pistol, doll?”

“Dunno,” you mutter, a tiny knot forming in your tummy as Abby’s eyes flit to yours again, darkened under the dwindling light filtering through the boarded windows.

“You dunno?” the blonde repeats, licking over her lips again as an exasperated scoff falls from them. You only answer with a small shake of your head.

But you did know. You had made a dumb decision with that gun. Put yourself in danger, put Abby in danger.

It was a moment of misplaced confidence, when your body was squished against your girlfriend in a tight hallway in the city, her ragged breaths pressing into your ear as she gripped you close, waiting for the clicker to pass as silently as she could. The building was packed, a basement door opened sometime the night before likely– spilling a horde of new infected into a building that was usually deemed clear on patrols.

You just wanted to prove something. That was why you swiped the pistol from Abby’s waist, why you shoved it in your own pocket sneakily as Abby dealt with the clicker, motioning you to follow as you continued down the building.

You just wanted to get that rush.

“You are so fucking cocky, you know that?” Abby asks, the opening of the metal trailing up your cheek again until it taps against your temple. “Or maybe you're just dumb, huh?”

You shake your head rapidly. “Just wanted to help, abs.”

Help by going down the opposite way than abby in than building. Help by fiddling with the gun you barely knew how to use when a runner caught your attention. You were just trying to help when you stepped on a can, two runners flicking their heads up your way as you shakily tried to point the gun at one.

But you hadn't helped. Not when you had to scream Abby’s name after only getting one runner down, another grabbing at your arm as you tried to take off.

Your help was just another fucking issue as Abby had to save your ass.

“Help?”

You nod again.

“You think stealing my things, almost getting yourself killed, is helping?” she asked, her tone proving just how ridiculous she found you. You barely knew how to fucking work her fucking pistol, let alone go off alone on a patrol.

“I’m sorry Abby,” you whimper, knees grazing the carpet as you fidget, your heart racing with each gentle tap of the gun against your temple. “I was being stupid. M’sorry,” you admit, meeting her blue eyes.

“You think you're a strong girl, hm? Think you can go fight on your own? That you can steal my shit?” Your lip quivers, finding refuge between your teeth, a fiery swirl rising in your stomach as the pistol nudges your cheeks, Abby chuckling as she pokes at the fat there again.

There’s no way to escape the uncomfoftable roll of your hips down into the ground after the sound, how fucking condesending Abby sounded as she had a gun against your face. A surge of pure need intensifies, your poor core searching for relief from the tension.

“And look at t-that, youre fucking into it too?” your girlfriend sounds absolutely astonished by your reaction, and even if you know it's all a show to further that feeling of shame rising in your body, you still whine in denial.

“Do y’have a death wish or something?” she asks, “first you try and use this without a clue in the world of if it was even loaded, and now you're getting off on geting threatened with it?”

“No,” you deny, but you know your panties, which stick against your pooling cunt would tell another story.

Abby shakes her head, almost in disbelief as the very tip of the gun finds your lips. You hold your breath, gaze following hers.

“Dumb fuckin’ girl,” the blonde mutters, pressing the gun hard enough to part your lips, the cool metal pressing against the white of your teeth, a shiver wracking through your body at the feel of it.

“My dumb fuckin’ girl,” Abby amends, inhaling sharply as you relent, allowing the barrel to slide past the plush, wet warmth just slightly.

“You like this gun so much, the least you could do is clean it then, yea?” she muttered, and you dont mistake the slight hitch in her tone. You don’t miss how her position shifts to also kneel, yet still somehow looking down at you.

You open your mouth wider, her grip on the gun handle so firm it feels like it might crack, as she gradually lowers the barrel into your mouth.

Your heart pounds beneath your ribcage, your tongue exploring the cold metal, tracing the divots and intricate details. Abby had already cleaned it, you knew that, but she still pushed it further in your waiting mouth, a powertrip building behind her hazy eyes.

“There you go,” she whispered, “Aah,” her own lips parting, her chin tilting up as she eases the barrel further in, now resting against your tongue.

“just like that– sure you remember how to do this, hm? Taught you well with my cock, right?”

You nod, eyes flashing quick memories of your mouth around her strap. Abby was met with a soft suckling noise, her dilated pupils darting swiftly as the metal disappeared between your lips, hand softly, deliberately thrusting the barrel in and out.

You hadn't expected the motion at first, gargling gently as you adjusted to the cold feeling on the inside of your mouth, teeth scraping the barrel slightly as you sucked like it really was her cock, hollowing your cheeks, head moving in tandem with Abby’s slow movements.

It was fucking filthy.

Abby’s free thumb moves to your chin, swiping at a bead of shiny drool that dripped from the corner of your mouth, “You ever gonna do somethin’ so dumb again?”

Shaking your head, you feel the weighty tip against the back of your tongue, and you fight the instinct to gag around the metal. Blue eyes watch intently as the slow back and forth motion continued, your mouth pooling with more spit as you took the round shape as best you could, eyes straining to keep contact with Abby’s gaze.

“You ever gonna put your life in danger like that again?” Abby continued, voice dripping with that delicious sternness you seeked, that you craved. She savored the surprised and soft gag that came when she shoved the gun a little harder.

You throbbed at the feeling, at how her lips hardened into a line as you licked around the base of the gun, a new rush of wetnees ruining your panties as your thighs squeeze impossibly closer.

This shouldn’t have you so turned on by something that could so easily kill you being shoved in your mouth, dipped in and out like some toy for your girlfriend’s own pleasure. But it did. It had you drenched between your legs, heart beating as loudly as the blood that pumped in your ears.

A quick and obvious shake of your head follows the second question, and Abby pauses her movement, letting it still heavily against your warm, wet tongue.

“I could fucking kill you,” Abby admits, eyes falling to where you rub your thighs together, seeking friction. “You know that?”

But she wouldn't. Abby would never *really* hurt you, you know that. With one more soft thrust into your mouth, the end of the barrel is almost right there— flush against your face as she holds it. Abby watches your hands scramble to grip at something, throat constricting to keep a gag from rising in your throat.

“There ya’ go, gag on it,” she grits, watching as more drool seeps between the stretched corners of your mouth, only relenting when she sees tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“So damn dumb,” she huffed, the pistol slowly falling from your lips– a long string of drool connecting the metal to your gaped mouth before your tongue could swipe the string away, clamping your mouth shut after you choke out a quick, “m’sorry, m’sorry.”

Abby wiped the pistol against her pants as she stood, backing up until her ass found the bed, her legs spreading, pistol placed next to her. You watched, eyes lidded as you stayed glued to the floor, watching as her large hand patted against her thigh before trailing to her pant’s button, long fingers hooking around it, her own cunt aching under her boxers.

“Come show me how sorry you are.”

[zvdvdlvr]

Good Night

💤 Synopsis. Aaron knows you can’t sleep, so he offers his home to you. Just to help you sleep. Not to fall even deeper in love with you or anything- psh!

💤 Warnings. Not too descriptive vomit scene. Nightmares from previous case (nom descriptive). Crude language. Idiots in love. Possible OOC!Hotch. Not edited.

“Hey boss,” you greeted, sleepily letting the pen fall out of your hands and onto the table.

“Y/n. You need to sleep,” Hotch murmured sternly from across the table. “We’ve all noticed it. I know these last few cases were rough…” he went on keeping a low voice as to not wake the rest of the team. “But you need to take care of yourself.”

You shrugged pitifully. Truthfully, sleep avoided you like you and sleep were two positive magnets. It was getting harder to sleep now anyway. After a particularly rough patch in your life, you lost two little girls and a boy on a case. Now, you see them in your sleep as they beg for you to save them as they fade away to nothing in your consciousness. Emily tried to help, since you normally roomed with her on cases, but there wasn’t much you could do when the monsteres where in your head.

“I’ll try, Hotch. I just- I always feel… like I don’t… I don’t know.” You struggled for words, rubbing your eyes. “I feel trapped in my mind when I sleep. And- and I can’t get out: can’t fight it, can’t change it, can’t fix it.”

Hotch nodded. Your eyes were so so heavy and he knew you were trying your hardest to keep your composure. Hotch admired that. “Do you want to try something?”

You tolted your head at Aaron’s proposition. His tone changed to a high pitch, clearly apprehensive about the idead himself. “Sure.”

“Jack gets nightmares too,” Aaron started slowly, making sure you heard and processed every word. “After Hayley. I make sure when he wakes up that we go out to the kitchen and get a snack. Then he comes back to my room and stays with me under a weighted blanket I have. It- It helps me with my own sleep problems.”

Your lip twitched. “You’re trying to get me in your bed, aren’t you Agent Hotchner?”

Even though he heaved a massive sigh, Hotch smiled and shook his head. There you are. “If it gets you some quality sleep? Yes.”

“Well,” you murmured, leaning your head back on the seat. “I guess I’d be rude to decline.”

“Luckily for you we have about ten minutes till we land,” Aaron noted. He stood up and his knees popped. You chuckled and smiled up at him.

“Am… Do you want me drive separate?” You asked, bring Hotch’s attention back onto you.

His eyes took you in. Stretched out as far as you could on the cramped plane seat, frizzy baby hairs surrounded your tilted face- lit by the dim light like a halo- as you peered up at him with dark eyes and gleaming smile. “No need. Just make sure you have your go-bag. I can drop you off at home tomorrow morning and then take you to work. If you want,” he offered as coolly as he could, despite his racing heart.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Good.”

Packing away your stuff and reports you needed to do the next morning, you felt warmth creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks.

You almost fell asleep on the ride to Aaron’s home. It wasn’t your fault the vehicle smelled like Hotch so good and the were heated! Not to mentions how soft the material was… When was leather this comfortable!?

“Y/n,” Aaron murmured, nudging you with a knuckle. You blinked awake and looked around, owlishly-wide eyes taking in everything.

“Sorry-“

Aaron chuckled. When did he have such a nice laugh? Jeez. “You’re here to get some sleep, hon- y/n. You don’t need to apologize for dozing off.”

Were you actually hallucinating or did Aaron Benjamin Hotchner almost call you ‘honey’? You felt your insides as well as your outsides warm, but Aaron turned away fast so you didn’t know if he was blushing too. “Yeah. I- yeah, of course,” you mumbled, opening the door and stepping out.

Aaron opened the door and led you inside. His home, unsurprisingly, smelled exactly like him and you felt like melting to a puddle on the floor. Here, in his house, you looked around.

Evidence of life was everywhere.

Jack’s toys were in a mildly organized pile in the corner, along with a few of his cartoon carachters on a blanket onthe couch. Aaron toed his shoes off and you mimicked his actions. You ventured further into his house, running your hand on the marble counter.

“I’ll get the bed ready for you. I don’t have my spare fixed up, so I apologize for any messes,” Aaron finally said, breaking off your staring contest with the picture magnets on his fridge.

“Hm? Oh, no Hotch I can sleep on the couch. I think just being here will help.”

Aaron had none of your protests, padding down the hall and turning on the light. “I have my weighted blanket here,” he explained. “There should be a nightlight…” he trailed off and spun around. “There.” He pointed at a plug-in nightlight of Captain America’s shield. “Do you… need clothes?” Aaron asked.

You nodded without even knowing if you had P.J.s. “Please, Hotch,” you said, a shy smile on your face. You really hoped Aaron wouldn’t mind giving up some of his clothes.

“Aaron. Call me Aaron when we aren’t at work.” His statement sounded more like a question- his voice got a little higher at the end. “Do you sleep in shorts or sweatpants?”

You shrugged. “Shorts are fine.”

Aaron hoped you didn’t see his flush as he handed you the only clean pair of black shorts he had, along with a ‘Relay for Life’ shirt.

Fingertips grazed your own as Aaron handed you the clothing. “Thank you. Aaron. But I seriously don’t want to take your bed. I’m going to be fine on the couch, so-“

“Y/n, do not make me order you,” Aaron joked sternly, wagging a finger at you.

Even as you stifled a laugh, Aaron made his way to the door. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me. The bathroom is over there,” Aaron pointed to a door. “I… Don’t be afraid to wake me up, y/n. I’m here for you.”

You sighed and nodded, knowing that Aaron was going to win any argument against you. “Okay. Well, thank you again. I can make breakfast tomorrow to pay you back. Or just pay you. Whatever works,” you shrugged awkwardly.

“Completely unnecessary. I pay you. And you can pay me back by getting some good sleep so you can preform at your highest ability on the field,” Aaron explained. “Good night y/n. Sleep well.” The look in his eyes added the ‘I’m down the hall if you need me’ more than his words ever did.

It must have been three hours later when you woke up, clawing violently at your chest and forhead. You pushed the weighted blanket off of you and lurched forward, heading for the bathroom.

You keeled over and threw up stomach acid and whatever snacks you’d eaten previously. Tears ran down your face as you leaned your flaming forhead against the clammy skin of your forearm. Your stomach heaved and you whimpered, leaning forward and prepaed for another wave of vomit.

“Y/n?”

“‘M sorry, Aaron. G-go back to bed,” you ordered hoarsely.

Aaron padded forward and collected your hair, pulling it out of your face. “Do you think you got it all out yet?” He asked, tracing your clammy, tear-covered face as your eyes fluttered closed.

“I think so, but I don’ wanna move.”

Aaron cooed sympathetically at your pained whines. “Alright, honey.”

“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about a thing, y/n,” Aaron said. You were leaning further and further into Aaron’s chest, searching for comfort. Despite the slight sheen of cold sweat on your forhead, Aaron barely withheld himself from pressing a feathery soft kiss to your temple and hoping you understood what it meant.

“Do you think you can get up now? Brush your teeth?” Aaron asked, your arms curling into your stomach. You opened your glazed eyes and nodded.

Aaron helped you stand up and tied your hair back with the black hair tie on your wrist. You flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet.

Leaning on the door, Aaron thought you looked as beautiful as ever even after throwing up minutes before. You looked so normal- domestic, even- as you rubbed sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. You looked so right in Aaron’s bathroom- Aaron’s home as you brushed your teeth and washed your hands and returned as close to Aaron as possible.

“Will you stay with me? I- I get it if you don’t want-“

“Of course.” Aaron worried if he answered too quickly, but you just gave him an exhausted smile and flipped off the bathroom light off.

He would probably walk off a cliff if you told him too, Aaron thought, following you back to his bedroom. His clothes even looked better in you. His boxers made your butt look like a goddamned snack.

You climbed into Aaron’s bed as if it was natural and opened the comforter so Aaron could too. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips as you pulled the weighted blanket up to your shoulders.

“Aaron?” You asked, snuggling up as close to his arm as you could without actually touching him.

“Y/n?”

“Can you- if it sounds dumb or stupid you, uh, obviously din’t have too- cuddle with me? Like, wrap your arms over my stomach? I- the pressure helps me relax…”

You trailed off, shrugging even though Aaron probably couldn’t see the movement in the dark.

”C’mere,” Aaron said, opening his arms. He felt his face grow warm as you took no time in slotting yourself perfectly into his arms. “This alright?”

As you requested, his ridiculously muscular arms were loosely squeezing your to him by your stomach. His mouth was up close to the shell of your ear, and Aaron swore he could see a shudder run down your spine after whispering.

“Yes. You- it’s perfect. Thank you.”

Aaron huffed a laugh. “You’re welcome, y/n. Sleep well.”

“I will. You too, Aaron.”

As you fell asleep, Aaron burried his nose into your neck and savored the moment.

[hearteyesdiaz]

When you don't realize how drunk you are until you're sitting down to pee

[equinesandeducation]

Wonderful ride with Ála! Ponied, just so she could feel secure next to Ragnar, but she was absolutely relaxed and super sweet! Next time we can fly solo 🙌🏻❤️