#its only getting worse day by day

[avelletteaven]

Aww hell nah

Chibi Hannibal or so I think so...

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 2

cw: the ocean, talk of being drowned, loss of a sibling, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 4k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, drying off under the morning sun. It was easier than getting up and doing what you came here to do. But eventually, the rocks under you began to dig into your skin through your clothes and the warmth of the sun and your drying clothes stiffening from the salt in the water made you restless. You had to get up, to go somewhere. 

The dock was the last place you wanted to be. It held a horrible ending and an even worse beginning. 

But everywhere else in this new, unforgiving place seemed worse. At least you knew what was waiting for you on that dock. However horrible it was, it held something you understood. 

And so you got up on stiff legs and stretched, fighting against pins and needles to walk towards the moment you’d fought to get to, the moment you’d been dreading more than anything. 

The ground beneath you shifted from unstable stones to steady, aging wood, vibrating with the steps of dozens of people rushing around you. 

It was just as hectic as the dock you had left from. There it had been a boon, the exact thing you had used to sneak onto that accursed ship. 

You appreciated it here too. With dozens of people that had a thousand things to do, you felt invisible. No one had time to gawk at you, to ask if you belonged there. They didn’t have time to care. 

You watched them as they passed and couldn’t help but wonder how many of them knew Isobel. How many of them greeted her with a smile every morning? How many people looked forward to seeing her every day?

You imagined it was many of them. She’d always had that effect on people. 

But she wouldn’t any longer. And you were left to struggle to fill the hole she’d left behind.

That was why you were here. The pretense was that it was for her funeral arrangements, contacting the only family she’d ever told anyone about while she was still here. But really, you were here to take her place, replace her in the job she’d carved out for herself. They’d said as much in the letter, that they’d found her a shocking loss and you were welcome to pick up where she’d left off. 

It was said more tactfully, of course, with much more focus on her coming to arrange the funeral for her dearly missed sister. However, they all knew it would hardly be a lavish affair, just whatever would be paid for by the church. She could mourn her sister just as easily back home as she could here. But a job, that was enough to have her hiding on a cargo ship. 

Isobel has been an inventory taker, keeping the sailors honest, a job that probably would have been aided by you not being caught as a stowaway, but you weren’t particularly worried. They’d barely gotten a good look at you in the dark and even if they did, it had been for just a moment. With any luck, they wouldn’t dock here again, had left while she was sleeping on a quiet little island with a typically deadly monster.

The more you thought back on the last day, the less it made sense to you. It all felt fast and addled. Everything in you wanted to think you’d hallucinated it. If it weren’t for the fact that you were still standing here, alive, you’d be convinced you’d had. 

And then you saw the last thing you wanted to see. You saw a ship that was sickeningly familiar. You didn’t recognize any of the men’s faces. You hadn’t had any real chances to see them, other than through holes in your hiding place and in your panic in the endless rain. 

They looked like normal men. If they weren’t standing on that awful ship, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart from anyone else. 

It felt wrong. 

Something in you didn’t expect them to look like average men. In your head, they were monsters, the evil visible on their faces. 

Your eyes darted over them, your mind trying to catalog as many of their faces as possible. The idea of seeing one of them someday and not recognizing them, of just seeing them the same way you’d see anyone else, sent a bolt of panic through you. You needed to know them, you couldn’t let yourself be caught off guard. 

And then one of them locked eyes with you and you froze, unable to move, to run, to do anything without outing yourself. You knew that there was no way he knew who you were and yet somehow you were convinced that he knew, that exactly who you were was written all over your face. 

He started walking towards you while you stood frozen. You willed your feet to move, tried to tell yourself there was nothing strange about just walking away, but some instinct deep inside of you screamed that if you moved he would know, that it would be just as obvious as turning around and running. 

He greeted you with a smile and you felt a bile rise in your throat, fighting to keep the terror off of your face. 

“You’re Isobel’s sister, aren’t you?” he asked, oblivious to the disgust and fear settling inside you. “You look just like her. Maybe a bit more nervous, but I never met her on her first day.” He chuckled as he spoke and you wanted to hit him, to run, to do anything. How could he just stand here and talk to you? How could he not know, not sense it somehow? “You’ll do just fine. I’m sure it all runs in the family, you’ll pick it up in no time. It is a shame what happened to the lass.”

“It was,” you said, your voice sounding stunted to your ears. 

“Aye. Well, just take the run of our ship for me, let’s get everything sorted as soon as possible.”

You tried to shuffle off, refusing to meet his eye. “I haven’t even started working here yet.”

“It doesn’t really matter, you just need to make it official. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it you get paid. We’re all rooting for you, you know. God knows we’ve heard enough about you, Isobel’s brave, clever little sister.”

As he spoke, he laid a hand on your shoulder, one that you were sure was meant to be reassuring. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was one of the people who threw you overboard, if those hands were one of the ones squeezing your wrists so tight you had just begun to see the bruises. 

You agreed quickly, more in a rush to get away from him than anything. You knew you weren’t in any real danger but still, being anywhere near that cursed ship made you feel queasy. 

You boarded the ship, knees feeling weak as soon as your feet hit the deck. 

You hurried below deck as fast as you could, knowing you were doing a very poor job of looking unaffected by the whole ordeal. You quickly found yourself in the same room you’d hidden in. You saw your shawl stuck behind the heavy boxes, sitting, abandoned and smashed, against the wall.  

You weren’t taking inventory of anything while you were down there, with no means with which to do so or any idea of what you were looking for. You didn’t really know what you were doing. It was a difficult job to do without guidance but you knew they didn’t really want you to do it. All they wanted was the stamp of approval that they were sure meant little, the one that you did not have the authority to give. 

If you’d had the ability, you just might have given it, although not for the reason he’d imagined. You just wanted them gone, considering risking a job you needed badly just to get them away from you. 

Maybe you’d feel different when you left the ship, when you were no longer being faced with reminders of what had happened.

It seemed too calm like this. Like surely some signs of your struggle and terror should be strewn around the room. The only thing that even marked your existence was that abandoned shawl, barely visible behind crates that were stacked high. 

You stood down there, listening to the sound of boots on the deck above in the familiar room until they got more and more distant. Finally, with no idea how long you’d been standing down there, the echoing footfalls largely dissipated and you peeked your head out the door, set on slipping away. 

As you did, slinking off the skip back onto the dock, working to get lost in the crowd before any of the other sailors could spot you as you fled, you heard the sounds of shouting surrounding you. 

You turned to see severed fishing nets held in the hands of deeply upset sailors. 

It was hard to make out exactly what they were saying but you caught wind of cursing at sea monsters amidst accusations that some ravenous creature has chewed through their nets for the easy prey. 

Despite the frustrated cursing at sharks and monsters, you thought that, at least to your untrained eye, they didn’t look like they’d been chewed through. The cuts were too neat for that. Instead, they looked like they’d been cut, cleanly and meticulously. 

“You know what I think,” someone said, and it took a moment for you to realize that the voice was speaking to you. You turned to see a man, one of the younger ones here, leaning conspiratorially into your side. “I think they’re getting cut on the rocks.”

You hummed noncommittally.

The man didn’t seem to mind your lack of response. “A group of piss-poor sailors, can’t even miss something that doesn’t move.”

That managed to earn a quiet chuckle from you. 

He turned, really taking you in for the first time. “Hold on, you’re new, aren’t you?”

You nodded, sparing him a glance before your eyes darted back to the upset men and their shredded net. 

He was a rather ordinary boy, a medium brown hair, lightened from long hours of working in the sun, dark eyes, and freckles creeping up his cheeks. He seemed altogether more interested in you than you were in him but then again, you were the newcomer here. 

You should probably be friendlier, make nice with him. He looked like he worked here so you imagined you’d be seeing a lot of him.  

He stuck his hand out, having to back away from you a little to create enough space between you for a handshake. 

You took his hand and he gave it a quick shake, his hand warm and rough. 

“I’m Finn. Are you taking Izzy’s job? I should’ve guessed, you look just like her.”

You shrunk a bit at the comment. You didn’t think it was true, not in the ways that counted. You saw so little of yourself in her. 

But this man couldn’t know that, couldn’t know anything about you really. You hadn’t so much as spoken a word to him. 

“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, your voice coming out quieter than you’d meant it, a breathiness sneaking its way into your tone. 

He gave you a big, bright smile. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you. Has anyone helped you or have you just been milling about? Your first day here and we’ve already failed you. What would poor Izzy think?”

You gave him a halfhearted smile as he spoke, in no mood to hypothesize about what your dead sister would think of you now. 

Finn didn’t mind, taking your hand in his once more and leading you through the crowd of people towards a building to the side of the dock, just barely on dry land. 

He turned to you, another brilliant smile plastered across his face. “Here you are, ma’am, they’ll be able to take care of you in here. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early. If no one else offers to show you the ropes, come find me, alright?”

You offered him a smile that you hoped was even half as big and genuine as his seemed to be. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

With a stilted little bow in parting, he walked away, leaving you with nothing to do but enter the building. 

It was a small building, with not much room for anything inside. Most of the space was taken up by boxes and papers, with one lone desk against the back wall. An older man was sitting at it, hair looking overgrown and unkempt, streaks of gray working their way through it. He had a rather severe look about him, eyes sharp and pointed. He was reading something carefully as you entered. 

His head jerked up to see you and it hit you suddenly that you should have knocked. 

“I’m Isobel’s sister,” you blurted out. “You sent word to my family that she passed, you said if I hurried here I could take her place?”

Recognition flashed in his eyes and he settled back in his chair, eyes darting up and down to fully take you in. “Ah yes. Shame, that. She was a hard worker. Begged me for the job for days, swore she’d do anything to keep this dock running, that we’d never find a better worker. Smile on her face the whole time.” There was something unspoken in his gaze as he looked at you, a quiet challenge asking if you’d do the same. “And they sent you?”

You decided not to mention that really, there was no they. Your family was an independent people.  Frankly, you hadn’t even known whether Isobel was alive or dead between the letters you got maybe once a year, if you were lucky. That’s what you’d thought that awful letter was, written on the same stationary she used. You imagine she borrowed it from whoever had written of her death. Or stolen it. You liked to imagine she’d stolen it, the little bit of extra danger she would have gone through to write to you leaving a warm feeling in your chest. 

“They did,” you said, with the sweetest smile you could muster. 

“Good. And you can read, we know that. How’s your attention to detail?”

“Immaculate, sir,” you said, straightening your back as you spoke. “I will be just as good as she was, I swear it.”

It was a lie, but it was one you could stomach. 

“Good. I’m taking a chance on you, you know. But then again, I was taking a chance on her and anyone who works on this dock will tell you she was the finest worker we ever had.”

You smiled, and this time you meant it. “I’m sure she was.”

“Now, down to business,” he said as he shuffled some of the many papers on his desk around. “We’ve had some issues before, people fudging numbers, sneaking off with pieces of shipments. We have a reputation to uphold. If anything happens with any of them, it's on your head. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now what was special about your sister is she took the inventories in the ships without being largely despised like some of the others before her were. My advice? Play nice. Those men out there can make your life real easy or real hard. They’ll be nice to you, you’re pretty like she was. Try to keep it that way. Just don’t let anything they say go to your head. You report to me every morning and every night. Any questions?”

You shook your head. “No sir.”

He gave you a firm nod and then you were onto paperwork, setting up matters of payments and of reporting in. You took careful note of everything that he said, intent on getting this right. You had no other choice. 

By the time you managed to get out of there, everything signed and squared away, the sun had begun to fall below the horizon. The docks were quieting, although they were far from empty. People bustled around in the orange light of the dusk. 

The glowing sky reflected in the waves, shining back up at you from below. And amidst the reflections of auburn light and a dusting of clouds was a face, shaggy blonde hair framing cheeks with white scales reflecting the fading sun. 

Just the top of his head was peeking above the surface, everything below his nose still under the water. His eyes were staring right up at you, watching you patiently. 

You frantically looked around, making sure no one on the almost empty dock had noticed him. 

“Shoo. Go away,” you hissed down at him when you ensured the coast was clear. 

He splashed water up at you, wetting the bottom of your skirts. 

Your eyes widened and you did your best not to yell. “You cannot be here, you need to leave.”

He stayed put exactly where he was, staring incessantly up at you. 

His message was clear. He wasn’t going anywhere.

You paced off the dock, running over to the shore to try and pull him away from the lights and the people on the dock. The shore was largely abandoned, at least at this time of night. 

His tail snaked across the surface of the water as he swam away, following after you and disappearing faster under shallow water than you were comfortable with, ideas of what else could be lurking under the surface flicking through your mind.

You weren’t sure when a siren following you had managed to land firmly in the non-threatening part of your mind but it had, his alien appearance nothing other than vaguely alarming in the presence of sailors who did not feel as nonchalantly towards him as you did.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed when you both managed to make it to the shore and you stared down at him, disapprovingly. 

He was clearly built for deep water, shifting uncomfortably in the shallows, and yet here he was. 

He shrugged, staring at you from the water, eyes only leaving yours to flick down to your wet skirts. If you hadn’t been so set on getting him away from here, you would’ve scolded him. 

“Do you want something from me?” you asked, trying to get some sort of answer out of him, like you just had to ask the right question to be able to send him away. “Look, there’s safer ways to call in a favor. It’s not that I don’t want to help, I just don’t want to put you in danger.”

“Don’t want anything,” he said with a huff. “Not now anyways.”

“Then why are you here?” you asked, a sense of desperation bleeding into your voice. He’d saved you, if you got him killed now you’d never be able to live with yourself. It was out of the question. You needed to get him to leave. 

He did not want to see reason. “None of your business.”

You sat on the shore, rubbing your temples as you lowered yourself closer to his level. “Okay. Sure, that’s fine. You know what? As long as you’re here I might as well ask. What’s your name?”

He paused, looking to the side for a moment before responding. “Simon”

“Is that true?”

He shrugged. “It’s a name.”

You stared incredulously at him for a moment before he decided it was time to try again. "Peter.”

This did not aid in your confusion. “What?”

“You didn’t seem to like the last one.”

“Do you not have a name?”

“Not your kind,” he said, his nose scrunching a little as he did. 

“What kind then?” you prompted. 

He shrugged. “Our kind.”

You sighed, frustration bubbling up inside of you. “Okay, well where’d you get Simon from?”

“Heard it.”

“Where?” 

“From people.”

“What people?” you asked, feeling a little like a child who’d just learned the word why. It wasn’t really your fault though. If he’d simply answer a question properly he’d be freed from this endless barrage of questions. 

“The ones on the ships.”

“Why were you…” The realities of sirens and ships flashed through your mind and you decided that you should probably end that line of questioning. You shook your head, set on getting back on task. “You’ve got to at least talk to me. Are you here for a reason?”

He shrugged again, nose drifting back below the water as he sunk down into the shallows.

“Look, they won’t take kindly to you if they see you. We can set something up, somewhere where you can contact me so you don’t have to put yourself in danger to see me. We can find a nice abandoned section of the shore, I’ll visit every day so if you need to talk to me, you can.”

He shook his head. “I can find you.”

“I know you can, but you really shouldn’t.”

“We will meet here at dusk,” he said, gesturing to the little slice of shore you were on now, the same one he’d left you at the night before. “And also when I want to, I will find you. 

“Look… Simon? Is that what you want to go with?”

He shrugged noncommittally, eyes flitting towards the dock.

You sighed. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?”

He shook his head, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

You groaned. “Fine. That’s fine. Get yourself killed if you want to, I don’t care.”

That knocked the smug look off his face, and he said hesitantly, with a bit of a pout in his voice, “You do care.”

“Not if you don’t want to listen. Why would I care if you won’t listen?”

He studied your face for a moment before a determined look set itself onto his face, saying with more certainty this time, “You do care.”

He turned and disappeared under the water before you could respond. 

And then you were alone on the cold shore. 

You sighed as you settled against the rocks, where you’d be spending the night you supposed. It was no worse than anywhere else you could think of in this city you knew so little about. 

You had nowhere to stay, no money to get yourself a room. If you’d had it, you would’ve spent it on fare for a ship to get yourself here. 

Or maybe you wouldn’t have. Maybe you would have been set in your ways, convinced you could just sneak on and save your money for where it would really count. Maybe things would have turned out exactly as they did. 

As you leaned back onto the rocky shore where you’d be spending the rest of your night, you tried to put the spiraling thoughts of what might have been out of your head. 

You stared up at the stars, already forgoing any thought of sleep. It wouldn’t be safe to sleep here anyway. Hopefully you could figure some sleeping arrangements out in the coming days. Keeping on like this might drive you mad. 

But for now, there was nothing to be done, no use worrying over it. All that was left was to wait til morning. 

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[dayurno]

what gets me re: kevin with jean is that kevin is seriously the worst. like we see in-text specifically that kevin used to lean into jean’s space to whisper to him and it seems it was common enough to him that he didn’t think much of it (he did it once for asking jean to teach him french then again to make jean promise not to off himself), he said horrible things like ‘it could be our secret’ and ‘i don’t want to lose you’, he wrote jean memories and notes in postcards, he bought jean silly little magnets, even up to the point of tsc canon he was cradling jean’s face and gently touching his hand. so flirty! no wonder jean was down so horribly. no wonder nora sakavic said kevin was always the problem child

[extravagav]

Yk I never did truly recover from the sick fic chapter

[zeyan]

🐴💖🐴

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[kraviolis]

no one has explored the idea of darius and camila co-parenting hunter enough. like where the hell are the fics about darius calling camila asking if hunter left his derby uniform at her house or camila personally going to drop off hunter at his dad's house and sharing a cup of tea with him while she asks about hunter's grades at hexside and darius asks about hunter's sleeping habits and if she had any human alternatives to sleeping nettles that might help him sleep without the dream-enhancing side effect.

what about camila inviting darius to stay for dinner when he comes to drop off hunter at his mom's house and darius asking for the recipe and then asking the kids what ingredients he could substitute and which ones have to stay the same. or camila specifically adding three more lines to her phone plan-- one for vee, one for hunter, and one for darius so that they can keep in contact more easily. or hunter getting in trouble at school for picking a fight with boscha but when principal bump calls, darius is extremely busy with work so he calls camila and asks her to handle it.

maybe darius gets in an argument with hunter and he cant tell where he went wrong and calls camila and she listens and gives him her advice as someone whose been a parent for fourteen years vs. his own eight months. or camila opens up to darius about her own struggles with losing her husband and he opens up with his own grief over losing his mentor. or they talk on the phone for hours and gossip with each other. maybe darius comes over to hang out with camila and binge watch a new show with her while the kids are at school

[forthevibe-w]

as usual with me, we have to take it slow the first time that i peg her.

despite her usual docility, she guides my strap to her hole. i'm sure she'd prefer if i did it, but i need help for the first time.

so she positions herself, then slowly lowers herself onto my strap. and she moans so loud, undoing herself before me, fucking herself on my dick. i will just watch with fascination, figuring out how to replicate what she likes. if she sounds so pretty now, i wonder what she'll sound like when i do it.

after a few moments, i will stop her. i'll grab her neck, or her hair, or even her waist, and tell her to stop. i'll remove myself from her hole, and flip us around, and pin her to the bed. i'll kiss her pretty lips and wait her her to beg for more. she's so desperate at this point, i doubt it'll take long, but i won't rush. i will touch her softly and bite her hard until i hear her ask for me to fuck her. if she rushes, i'll curl my lips into a smile, and whisper "be patient," until i'm ready.

this time, i'll fuck her myself. i will position myself over her aching hole and listen. when she begs, having tasted my strap but not truly been fucked by me, i will give her more than a taste. she said she likes it rough, so rough i will be. i'll slam into her with brute, unpracticed thrusts. i don't know how to be gentle, and would i even want to be? seeing her, i always want to take. this time, seeing her pleading beneath me, i want to fuck her at my will. i watched her do it, i know how she likes it, so this time, i'm letting her lie back and i am fucking her.

i'll watch her squirm beneath me, those huge eyes rolled back, helpless and consumed with pleasure. i'll listen to her pathetic noises moaned in sync with my rhythm, watching her hands go above her head without my action. i'll watch her become overwhelmed, crying, and incoherent. and then i'll watch her cum harder than she has in a long time.

and after she finishes, i want to hold her tight. i want to take her in my arms, and kiss her forehead, and make sure it wasn't too hard. i'll take off the strap and trace patterns into her skin while she comes down. i want to keep her there until the after tremors have faded and she's able to say more than "wow."

all this say, i want to fuck her, but we'll have to take it slow the first time. at least, slow at first. i'm sure i'll get used to it, but it'll take me a moment.

[likes-words-and-shrimp]

Thinking about radiohusk with the strangled by the red string trope, except it's Alastor who's in control of the red string and brings it around both him and Husk. Entangling them. Unable to move or escape, unable to exist outside of each other's existence. Let's become forced soulmates where not even death will do us part. Let's share a destiny together, and have dreams of each other every night. Let's fall in love, even if it didn't work the first few times. Even if you don't want it, but that doesn't matter. Just give it time. We only have the rest of eternity.

[skitskatdacat63]

Hey, do you remember that really homoerotic scene from Skyfall? No? That's okay, here's a Vettonso version of it :)

- explanation & w/o text:

Hi hello, finally my weird psychosexual relationship with Casino Royale has come to fruition. Yeah this is directly based off a scene from Skyfall, but I def envision the vibe as being more like Casino Royale hehe. I can't believe I made that inspo board for this AU almost 4 weeks ago, and then ended up drawing a four panel "comic" about it. Ahhhh proud of myself, a bit, a tad. I think this took 20+ hours across the span of a week? God. Anyways I digress! The AU!!

First of all, their Bond song would be "My Way of Life" by Frank Sinatra. It's so toxic, codependent and obsessive, I'm in love with it. And it really suits Fernando and his motivations and outlook in this AU. Basically, MI6(in the context of James Bond) in this AU is an analog for Ferrari. It picks theses guys up, tells them that they're Ferrari MI6's most special boy, chews them up, and then spits them out when they're finished extracting all their talent and skill and life force.

Much like with Ferrari, Seb in this AU replaces Fernando after Fernando loses favor and becomes undesirable. Now Seb is the new golden boy, and Fernando has turned to a life of crime! Fernando resents Seb for this of course, but also becomes obsessed with him and the idea of him , and how they are connected. It's weird to watch someone else basically go down your exact same path and unknowingly make all the same mistakes(buying into the mysticism of it all too much, being overly cocky, having naive beliefs and goals, etc.) He is caught between wanting to doom Seb even more but also wanting to "save" him, by corrupting him and convincing him to work together.

Basically: He's both a Bond girl and Bond villain.

Fernando is in such a weird place in this AU. I think he's just very dramatic. Seb is just casually living his best 007(005?) life, and Nando is watching him with binoculars, whispering to himself: "DOESN'T HE UNDERSTAND THAT WE ARE NARRATIVE FOILS!?" Yeah he hates Seb, but like the song lyrics say, their lives and dreams are inherently tied up together. He would feel lost without Seb, because Seb basically, unknowingly, destroyed and then took over his life. Maybe he'll feel satisifed if he manipulates Seb into going down the exact same path a bit better.

About the drawings themselves. Still can't believe this scene is a real thing that actually happened, insane to me. But in this AU, after the events of these drawings, Fernando definitely kicked all his henchman out of the room, and fucked Seb in the chair. And then against the wall. And then on the floor. Hey man, Seb is already looking mighty delicious with his unbuttoned attire and being tied up.

I think the general plot would be that Fernando keeps trying to seduce him to the dark side, and Seb keeps making him think it worked, only to escape at the end of the encounter. Leading Fernando to just come up with increasingly more violent and kinky traps. Seb goes along with it(read: enjoys it), leaving Fernando satisifed, only to somehow escape and wink and make kissy faces at Fernando in the process. (Fernando smoking cigarette in bed: "How do I make him stay. Sigh.")

I like to think though that Fernando does win in the end, by realizing, ah wait shit I do need to actually explain my motivations to Seb. And Seb is so worn down by his job, not Fernando, and how he's being treated, that he listens, really actually listens, and realizes Fernando does really have valid reasons. And then they become evil crime husbands yayyyy. Wow you thought this was a espionage AU? Well it is, but just not the outcome you'd expect.

[moeblob]

Erin, to her crush: You're a dick

Mason, the crush: I won't argue! But to clarify -

[kavehater]

I am actually so sick of my tl on twt being flooded by complaints like be so freaking for real if you hate the game just leave stop playing it I promise it’s okay

[mortysmith]

Fuck you season five episode nine genuinely some of the worst shit they clobbered together

[collisiondiscourse]

family in flames is the most brutal fucking thing that brennan has done to them so far holy shit im getting palpitations from this shit

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.