#dont mind me x)

[anbaisai]

"Prefect, what did you... just..."

Based on this ask from my friend Sheep! A true love's kiss to free him from plushie-ness indeed...

[madhatter1496]

[ghostdoodlen]

I keep thinking about how in DC x DP tropes, people believe that Danny is the one tricking people to stay in the Ghost Zone by eating their food. Or some other Hades and Persephone thing going on.

BUT

I need people thinking he's not a consort or victim of a ghost or entity. More of their love child if you know what I mean?

I can imagine it starts with Danny being summoned (cuz that's classic Danny stuff) reeking of death and while most people in these prompts offer him food which is valid, hungry boi and all.

He refuses saying if he eats mortal food it'll delay when he can return back.

This makes people think there's some reverse Persephone logic going on. Is it all human food? For how long exactly? And is it the same for everything he eats?

Danny doesn't explain his reasoning. Maybe he has two different stomachs? Maybe he's experimenting or Frostbite told him not to. Who knows. His summoner for sure doesn't.

Danny: Always wait 30 mins before teleporting :)

[wilsonmybeloved]

heard we were fiddlestanning

you know the drill..

(full image under cut)

[the-raindeer-king]

Simon Riley who hates his dad more and more every day after you have a child together. Especially if it's a little boy. Because Simon can see himself (and Tommy) in your son, and will never be able to understand how anyone can abuse their children.

Simon Riley who would move heaven and earth for your son, if it'd make the little boy happy. He absolutely hates seeing your son cry, and going to the store is a losing battle for Simon's bank account.

Just Simon Riley who promised himself, and more importantly you and your son, that he'd never be like his own father. That he'd be better, kinder, loving. He's the kind of father he needed growing up, and he's the perfect father for your kids.

[sincerelybubbles]

"spence?"

"hm?"

"when did you get home?"

a more awake you would be squealing, thoroughly excited he came home early from his trip, but the early hours have hardly begun to bring light and you're struggling to even open your eyes to look at him. your cheeks still widen into a pleased smile though, turning into his warmth and humming, confused, when your hands find the rough fabric of his coat.

"a few hours ago," he says, voice rough, eyes still shut. one arm across his eyes, blocking the minuscule light, the other a vice around your waist. his voice is slow, deep in his chest, caught on the sleep he obviously wishes to keep. but he still turns his face toward the sound of your voice, smile creeping up at the corners of his lips, willing to entertain you despite his fatigue.

"are you still wearing your shoes?" you ask, voice teasing, scooting up in his arm to nudge your nose against the curve of his jaw. you press a kiss there, the point where his bone hits a right angle, lips tingling from the stubble you find.

"no," he says, voice honest, "i know better than that."

"no shoes, but your belt is still on?" you tease, fingers dragging across the leather. you don't care, not beyond a genuine concern for his comfort, but you enjoy teasing him in this way, skimming your lips across the rough skin of his chin in not-quite kisses.

"i took my gun off," he complains in a half-hearted groan, lifting his arm to peek at you out of the corner of one eye. "hi," he says, voice still soft, somehow deeper with affection, dimples the star of the show on his cheeks.

"hi," you say, tilting your head back and lifting your arm to cart your fingers through his mess of hair. "welcome home."

he smiles, reaching around with his other arm to gather you up and drag you across his chest in a bear hug, chuckling at the squeal you let out, sighing against your hair. he presses a firm kiss there, right above your ear.

"we will have to wash the sheets, though. it was really gross for me to not change, i was just exhausted, sorry."

[skateboardtotheheart]

there is just something about the difference between edwin's love interests and having the cat king's reaction to edwin in hell being "i'll be waiting when he gets back" vs charles "no version of this where i don't come get you" rowland convincing a powerful trans-dimensional being to open a door to hell just so he could get him back

i am insane

[stervrucht]

[rookinthecrownest]

when are we gonna wake up and realize that Romanced Rook should have made an appearance in Lucanis’ mind prison - a reflection of all his insecurities about their relationship, his fears around intimacy, his fear for their safety around him. To have all that made flesh and be spoken from Rook’s own mouth?? Sheesh 😩

[wiztarm]

A little semi realism experiment with leon

reblogs are appreciated!

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[tojisun]

i cant even finish my work because all i keep thinking about is simon

the way he loves picking you up or throwing you over his shoulders or burrowing his face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in. the way when you two cuddle, he presses his hand flat on your belly to push you closer to his body because he loves feeling the way your warmth seeps into him. the way he murmurs his words on your skin because he loves kissing you and he doesn’t wanna stop kissing you. the way he nips your shoulder or your cheek because you are just so fuckin adorable. the way he holds your hands, fingers slotting perfectly against yours, or the way he hooks his pinky with yours. the way he makes you kiss his dog tags before he leaves because that’s his damn good luck charm.

cant stop thinking about the way he loves.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Hi!! Your Cherik is so good and gorgeous 🤩🤩 If you don't mind wanna try to draw some Fall of X Cherik please?

thank you so much !!

i have a couple of ideas relating to the fall of x period specifically since theres. A Lot i wanna play with, so i hope this lil thing may be a satisfactory start :]]

and the obligatory bonus:

[hypnagogics]

UM HI SURPRISE. i promise im working on loreful things but this is bouncing around my brain atm i need it to leave so enjoy. fluffy? smutty brainrot meow yk the drill idk what this is. 18+ whiny & teasing subtop!ellie. "baby/babe" petnames, praise, fingering (r! receiving).

"mmmm i wanna feel you baby." laying on top of you in bed, ellie squeezes at your waist and pushes her head further into the crook of your neck. "you're so warm, so soft. need more." she mumbles, pecking at the delicate pulse point beneath her lips. she coaxes delighted giggles to burst from you, and you feel her face widen into a smile against you, her teeth grazing your neck. fast forward a few moments, and she's sitting by your knees, face flushed, rose petal mouth pursed into a needy pout, shaky hands pulling at your waistband, causing it to snap back against your skin. "lemme fuck you. just wanna make you feel good, m'kay?" the way she's asking—it's so earnest, so eager. "mhm." you nod in approval, heat already pooling in your lower abdomen.

she chuckles, then leans over you to capture your jaw with one hand, and kiss you deeply, her tongue teasing yours with a tentative flick. she knows all the tricks, every little maneuver to make you clench around nothing and crave her more. but, dear ellie being ellie, has as much fun with that as she can.

the moment she feels you buck your hips skyward to bump against her front, she pulls away. cheeky grin taunting you, although without malice behind it. "so cute when you're needy, hm?" "shut. up." you hiss, also in a lighthearted manner. another thing about her, is she never takes it too far. she doesn't irritate you genuinely, just enough to work you up perfectly. to mold you and melt you under her touch, like putty.

her elegantly tattooed hand slinks down your body, tweaking every peak and valley it passes by, finishing its journey between your legs. she palms your pussy gently over your clothes, biting her lower lip when she sees the micro expression on your face. in one swift motion she removes the fabric barrier, your legs instinctively fighting to close in order to combat the cold air. wordlessly she prevents that, greedily eyeing your already-sopping folds, like a lioness about to devour a kill.

"so fuckin' pretty, fuck babe." your heart flutters at the praise, and warmth floods your face. ellie takes her time, swiping one lazy finger through your pussy, collecting your slick to spread you open, unable to hold back a moan as she watches the sight before her. the light touch sends your spiraling. your eyes rolling, back arching, it was nearly embarrassing.

she can't help herself, and stuffs her middle two digits inside you, within no time at all locating your spongy g-spot, beginning to frantically prod at it. her other hand pushes your knee further to the side, and thumb of her working hand stretching up, circling your thumping clit with increasing urgency.

by how she was acting, you'd thing she was the one getting fucked. your breaths speed up, and fingers twisting the sheets underneath you to stay grounded, and you wish you could force your eyes open to watch intently, because the pathetic look on her face was utterly golden.

whines tumble from your lips, louder and louder, reacting to her actions. your brain getting screwed to mush, you will her to go harder, faster, deeper, and as if she's a mind reader—she does just that. "c'mon, yeah, look at thattttt. so beautiful. this all f'me baby?" her voice crackles and wavers, little whimpers cutting her off.

the metaphorical elastic band in your abdomen gets tighter, and you arch backward, and she feels the way you're sucking her in, the pulsing of your clit under her thumb getting more intense as the peak approaches. you cry out her name, and can almost hear her sound tearful as she eggs you on to cum, blinding pleasure overtaking your being, you make a mess all over her hand. she works you through it steadily until the overstimulation aches, until your body is wrung of every ecstatic shockwave. by the time it passes, you open your eyes, and it seems as if she's just as out of breath as you are. she wraps you in an embrace, murmuring praises into you, massaging your still-tense body.

insert your own ending im lazy. if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, click here! thank you for reading, asks, reblogs, and comments are appreciated more than you know. ♡

tags: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @mascdom @xysbree @liddysflyer @fortune777 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2 @deliriousrn @infiniteinquiries @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut

[asytho]

[gunsatthaphan]

"it's your fault for looking at me like that."