#just some sex things for Gavin

[irasciblereed]

Sinday/Spicy headcanons

Gavin likes being rough, but if his partner isn't just as into it, he can't enjoy himself. Its not that he doesn't like soft intimacy, just that... he loves the fight for dominance, getting out of breath before they even get to the sex, laughing and making jokes, playfully insulting to push them to beat him. Leave bruises on him, he wants to be able to touch them the morning after and remember how fucking good it felt in the moment, how much his partner clung to him, pushed him down and pinned him, or just needed to cling to him while they rode out their post-sex high together.

He's also prone to a possible morning-after crawling under the blankets and exploring his partner's body with his mouth and hands. Less rough, more curious of what else gets them off without the roughplay.

He likes drunk sex, and is surprisingly less like to get into a bout of rough foreplay when he's been drinking. He's more likely to be sappy and stupid, but also lazy, ride him until he can't stand it, then rolls them over for a slower fucking until they beg or curse at him.

And on the occasions that he as a male partner, he will absolutely go down on them with enthusiasm and show how he'd got no gag reflex to speak of. Call it a talent or a curse, no one protests when swallowing them down like a popsicle.

[batboyblog]

Among the other things that seem to pop out of nowhere, I hear that Harris is apparently "very pro-cop" as a reason why we shouldn't vote for her. I would like some clarification about that and also maybe reasons why we should be voting for her, just for the naysayers.

The Kamala cop thing comes from her jobs as San Francisco District Attorney and California Attorney General, and the fact that Kamala and Cop have a kind of ring to them.

the fact that Harris had worked on enforcing the law was used against her in the height of "Defund the Police" but ultimately was pretty unfair, just quickly I found an article from a public defender about Harris progressive record to be short as both DA and AG she fought to scale back incarceration, she refused to seek the death penalty, she wouldn't prosecute marijuana possession cases (back in 2004), as DA along with then Mayor of San Fran Gavin Newsom she took part in the city's short lived gay marriage moment in 2004

here she is in 2004 marrying a nice Lesbian couple, over 10 years before gay marriage would be legal nation wide and 8 years before President Obama announced her supported it.

Harris put a particular stress on prosecuting sex criminals, rapists and human traffickers, and well

"She Prosecuted Sex Predators, He is One"

thats the answer, every time.

[samsxowboyhat]

Redacted headcannons BUT some of them are actually cannon

After Vincent got turned and William was positive he wouldn’t go on a bloodlust spree he would sometimes go out and forget he was rich

Asher was one of those overly excited tall scrawny kids who would get colorful bands on his braces

Aaron and Elliot would play as duo characters for every video game that allowed the player to select characters

Gavin would know how to do things but wouldn’t know how he knew how to do them

Laskos powers sometimes happen as a reflex like his fight or flight instinctively turns into float the second he feels his body falling or if he’s on high places(you wouldn’t catch this man on any roller coaster)

Sam has an old outdated picture of him and his grandmother that’s in black and white

All earth elementals are naturally strong, Water elementals are naturally smart, Fire elementals are naturally determined, and Air elementals are naturally focused

Milo and Sam’s family bloodline has/had problems with addiction so they never associate with alcohol or smoking with the fear that they could get addicted

Quinn used to “joke” with Darlin when they were still together by grabbing them and pretending to turn them when they weren’t paying attention and to this day they wonder if he was serious about biting them

Asher was one of those kids who would listen to old metal songs over and over(AND OVER) again until he learned the lyrics

Sam does own a cowboy hat and the Shaw pack(main 8) has made “save a horse, ride a cowboy” jokes(Sam doesn’t know wtf they’re talking about)

Darlin would lie to Gabe and David’s mom about their parents letting them stay over because they wouldn’t wanna go home

Lasko wears sweaters WITH EVERYTHING

Gavin got his music taste from FL when they first started meeting up claiming that he wanted to get closer to them rather than having sex with them

Darlin and Sam were cautious when they had their first time always asking each other if they were okay before, between, and afterwards

David’s contact name in the pack phones is “Davey” but they’ll never admit that to his face(he currently knows that Asher and Angel have it as theirs)

Gavin has nipple piercings and a tongue piercing(he has tried to convince Lasko to get one)

Darlin has a slight degrading kink that you could NEVER get them to admit(Sam found that out when they once started crying and he thought he hurt them and was flabbergasted when they told him to do it again)

ALL of Asher’s shoes are dirty except for his dress shoes and Milo gets so pissed when he wears nice sneakers and creases them or gets them dirty

Angel and Baabe both like kpop specifically Ateez and seventeen

Sam has a house in the woods and prefers a working house over a cute one(he has a porch swing)

Sam doesn’t like talking about his family but could go hours talking about his grandma

David hates the nickname “Dave”(don’t ask me why I just feel like he does)

Darlin once thought they hurt sams feelings and disappeared for days until they came back with a gift for him and waited until he saw it before talking to him(they’re terrible at apologizing and refused to tell Sam where they went while they were gone)

Porter always kisses Treasure's knuckles

FL has once broken a comb in caelums hair(but was so confused when they were able to move their hands through his hair)

The younger Shaw pack had a clubhouse in the woods in an abandoned cabin that Gabe helped David clean up

TS TOOK ME ALMOST 3 HOURS I QUIT(I’m lying:3 GM AND GN It’s currently 4:36 IN THE MORNING)

[dizzyjelly]

Kryptonite(18+)

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: ellie hated everyone, except you. You go out to the bar one night and some guy bothers you, she punched his ass ofc. You get into a small fight but then you guys go back to her place and things get freaky;)

Cw: fighting, drinking, smut, strap-on sucking, strap-on sex, scissoring, rough sex, degrading, praising, spanking, the tiniest bit of overstimulation

A/n: ooh this is seriously dirtyyy! 😭 sorry if I missed any content warnings but I really think that's all. Also, I've been going back to my previous fics and rereading and I just now realize I misspell so much and like forget words, so I'm sorry for all my grammar fuck ups lmao

Ellie Williams was many things, but nice was not one of them. People usually tried to steer clear of her, knowing her mood was negative more often than not. But of course, there was the occasional time when somebody made the mistake of trying to be friendly with her. It typically ended with Ellie cursing them out, or insulting them somehow. And then you'd come around, always calming her down and putting a smile on her face.

Everybody found it odd, from the minute you'd been welcomed to Jackson, Ellie was always so sweet to you. It honestly had jaw dropping, everyone was shocked to say the least. On top of that, it made no sense. I mean, some random girl comes into town and she just happened to be Ellie Williams kryptonite? Absolutely zero sense.

Nobody dared to question it though, and anytime they did Ellie had a lot to say. The main point she'd give was that it was simply 'none of their fucking business', among other things. You, yourself, found it a bit odd. You'd heard stories about Ellie from various people around town, and it was hard to believe she could be so harsh and mean. Was she really as cruel as they'd said? You'd never know, because she was nothing but kind to you.

-------------------

After deciding to get ballsy on patrol, Ellie was sentenced to the unbearable punishment of laundry duty for a week. The only good part of it being that she got to see you, you had been a clothing designer before all this apocalypse shit happened so you knew a lot about clothing. This being the reason for your permanent work assignment staying laundry duty, you'd requested that it be permanent. Maria had no issue doing thst for you, and you were beyond thankful. You and no interest in getting yourself into any kind of danger, doing patrol or something else.

Currently, Ellie was trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do with the laundry detergent. She looked at the various bottles, grabbing then to read the instructions on the back. After a minute of trying to comprehend what she was meant to do, she let out a frustrated sigh before slamming the yellow bottle back in its place on the shelf.

"I could help you out, you know?" A brunette boy suggested with a sweet smile, he was younger and very clearly meant no harm.

"Fuck off" She scoffed harshly, "I don't need your help." Her tone was aggressive as she walked back over to the baskets of clothing.

She decided to sort them by color instead, that was something she was capable of. Five minutes or so passed and you came in, late. Very unusual for you, you were one of those people who was either early or on time. But late, you were never late. Ellie's face immediately lit up when she saw you, she smiled from ear to ear as she ran over to pull you in for a hug.

"Oh, hi" You laughed, wrapping your own arms around the girl, "somebody missed me." You joked.

"Shut up" She smirked at you, rolling her eyes, "why are you late? You're never late." She asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Um, I was just talking to Gavin, guess I got caught up." Your cheeks flushed red, Gavin was the guy you had a crush on for weeks now.

Ellie couldn't wrap her head around why, he was such a dick. Not that you'd be able to figure that out by the way he acted. He pretended to be a nice, caring guy. But he wasn't either of those things. And since he had you in a chokehold, for some unknown reason, you'd have to find that out the hard way. Ellie tried to tell you, relaying stories she'd heard from friends who'd been with him. But you were just lovesick.

"Oh, k." Her smile dropped now, and she spoke monotonly as she had no interest in why you were so busy talking with Gavin.

You furrowed your brows slightly at her sudden change in demeanor, but ultimately you ignored it. Smiling, you walked over to greet Samuel, the brunette boy who'd usually help you out with laundry.

"Good afternoon, Samuel! How are you today?" You asked, but he seemed kinda down.

He hadn't given you an answer, just shrugged, so you walked over to him and asked what was up. He motioned for you to lean in, so that he could whisper in your ear. Samuel told you about how Ellie had told him to 'fuck off.' And you let out a dramatic gasp.

"Ellie Williams! Did you tell my sweet bo Samuel to fuck off?" You asked sternly, hands on you hips as you made your way over to the girl.

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed red as she knew she'd been caught.

"Maybe... I'm sorry!" She apologized with a frown, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Do not talk to my sweet little helper that way, he's my friend." You scolded her just a bit more, and she nodded in understanding.

"Oh, hey could you help me with the detergent? I'm not really sure what to use." She asked you, pointing her thumb in the direction of the shelf filled with various laundry detergents.

"Yes, if you promise to be nicer to my dear friend Samuel." You raised your brows.

"Promise..." She smiled with a playful eye roll.

You proceeded to help her with the detergent, making sure she'd remember for next time. Ellie would continue her work duties, bored out of her mind as she prayed to be let back onto patrol early for good behavior. At a certain point in the day, she'd just be eyeing the clock, counting down the hours until she could finally be free from this torture. You, however, didn't mind the job one bit. It actually brought you joy, helped you to relax even. It reminded you of the days before.. everything.

Once it did fall time to clock out, Ellie was quick to rush out of the laundry area, waiting for you outside. You'd chuckle to yourself and shake your head, she was so dramatic. On your way out, you waved a goodbye to Samuel then smiled as you found Ellie leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"Hey, wanna go to the bar?" She asked with a cheeky smile.

You sighed through your nose, hesitant as Ellie was a terrible drunk.

"Fine. But Ellie, please don't get too drunk." You asked, taking her hands in your own.

"Ok... come on." She smiled as she held your hand and walked the two of you to the bar.

Once you got there, you took seats at the bar and Ellie ordered for the both of you. Alcohol wasn't really your thing, but she seemed to know her way around it pretty well. And you trusted her, which was a good choice because when you took a sip of your drink it was absolutely delicious. After another drink and the passing of some time, Gavin had made an appearance.

You saw him and a smile spread across your face, your eyes lit up and your knees felt weak. Ellie took notice to your mood change, following your eyes to see the man himself. She rolled her eyes and let out a small groan as she rested her head in her hand. You turned back around, sipping from your drink and trying to act cool. Then, Gavin had come to sit beside you.

"Hey Y/n, how you doing?" He greeted, the sound of his voice had you giggling.

"Hi, I'm good. How are you?" You asked in return, playing with your hair a bit.

"Oh I'm doing just great. Who's your friend?" He asked, gesturing to Ellie who was now on her third drink.

You sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Oh, this is-" Ellie had cut you off.

"I'm Ellie." She answered him with a harsh tone.

"Well, nice to meet ya Ellie" Gavins voice trailed off as he looked at the door, "I've gotta go." He sent a little wave your way.

You waved back with furrowed brows, then frowned as he was meeting a girl who just walked in. She was pretty, long blonde hair and a striking figure. You sighed, dropping your head down on the bar with a groan. Ellie sighed.

"What's wrong?" She asked in a soft tone, bringing a hand to rub up and down your back soothingly.

"I'm a fucking idiot." Was all you muttered, not picking your head up until a minute later.

You turned around and honestly felt like you could cry when you saw the two of then dancing together, he had his hands on her waist and pulled her unbelievably closer. She laughed as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You turned back to look at Ellie, the pout on your face more evident than anything.

"Oh, come on, he's an asshole anyways" Ellie rolled her eyes, glancing over at the dancing pair, then she stood and reached out a hand, "come on baby, dance with me."

You smiled, placing your hand in hers and letting out a small laugh as she pulled you to stand with her. At first, you just held hands and bounced around to some faster songs. But then about two songs later, a slower song came on. Your cheeks flushed red and you took a step back, only for Ellie to snake a hand around your waist and pull you closer.

"Ellie.. what are you doing?" You whispered as she held your waist and pulled you in tight, so that you were practically hugging.

"Dancing." She whispered in return.

You giggled and brought your arms around her shoulders, leaning in so your head rested on one of them. Ellie smiled as her eyes fell shut, your perfume greeting her kindly. You sighed as you relaxed under her touch, nobody could make you feel the way she did. Her hands found their way to your lower back, rubbing small circles onto it. You'd nuzzle your face in her neck, smiling as you brought your hands to play with her hair.

"Fuck Y/n.." Ellie groaned under her breath.

You giggled, lifting your head to meet her eyes. She looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. You looked down at your feet, then back at her. Your breath hitched as your eyes couldn't seem to focus on hers anymore, but rather on her slightly chapped lips. She had to have noticed because a smirk slowly formed on her face. Before you'd do anything you would regret, you stepped back from her. The loss of her touch left you feeling empty, but you would ignore it and just smile as you excused yourself.

"I have to use the bathroom." You simply said, and she took a seat at the bar once again as you made your way to the restroom.

You didn't actually have to go, so instead you washed your hands underneath cold water. And you splashed some on your face for good measure, you'd been getting unbelievably hot during your dance with Ellie. Once you could no longer feel your heart beating in your ears, you left the bathroom to return to Ellie. Unfortunately, there had been someone waiting for you outside.

"Hey, you know you look really good tonight." Gavin spoke smugly as he leaned against the wall.

"Yeah? Thanks." You scoffed, "shouldn't you be getting back to your date?" You spoke matter of factly, trying to push past him.

Your efforts didn't get you much of anywhere, his hand now finding a tight grip on your forearm while the other went to hold your face. You rolled your eyes with a frustrated sigh.

"Ok, come on Gavin I'm really not in the mood." You spoke coldly, willing him to just take the hint and leave you alone.

He tsked, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

"Come on angel, just let me show you a good time." You shuddered at his words, disgusted.

That was your last straw and you found the energy to shove him off of you and into the wall with a hard thud. Then, you saw Ellie turning the corner, her fists balled at her sides as her brows knitted together with anger.

"The fucks going on here?" She asked gruffly.

"Ellie, it's nothing. I'm fine." You placed a hand on her chest, trying to convince her.

Of course it didn't work because the next thing you knew you were watching as she punched Gavin so hard he'd fallen over. Her knuckles were red, and his face began to bruise.

"Ellie!" You screamed as your hands went over your mouth in shock.

Before she could get any other hits in, you'd held her by her shoulders as you dragged her outside. She yelled at the poor guy the entire time. Sending a good amount of threats his way.

"What is wrong with you!" You shouted at the girl as the two of you now stood outside in the chilly night.

"Me? He deserved it and you know it!" She'd shouted back, gesturing with her hands, something she did often when she was angry.

"Yeah maybe, but still! You can't just go around punching every guy that bothers me, I can take care of myself you know?" Your hands were on your hips.

"Oh god, this again? I can't keep having this fucking conversation with you, Y/n!" She gritted her teeth.

"What conversation? The one where I have to constantly remind you that I'm a full grown adult, and I am entirely capable of taking care of and defening myself? I mean seriously Ellie, what's the problem? Do you think that I can't take care of myself?" You asked with a frustrated sigh.

"What, no! Of course I know you can, but I just- I care about you a lot and you shouldn't have to take care of yourself. It makes me feel good to defend you, I don't know why it just does. And I'm... sorry." Sge struggled to get the apology out.

"It's ok. Let's just go home, sleep it off." Your suggestion sounded good, but Ellie stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

"Wait." You looked at her with questioning eyes, wondering what else she had to say.

Turns out, she didn't have anything to say. Instead, she had brought one hand to your waist and the other to the back of your neck. She bit her lip, her eyes flickering between your own and your lips. After a minute or so had passed, she just couldn't resist. She pulled you in and connected her lips with yours, kissing you like it was the end of the world.

"Ellie~" You whined as you parted from the kiss for a moment, immediately diving back in.

This time, you pressed your tongue to her bottom lip. And she gladly let you in, opening her mouth wide so she could taste your tongue on hers. It was something from another world, you'd felt dizzy and giddy, and there was something else too. There was this heat between your legs, it almost hurt. You whimpered into her mouth at the unfamiliar feeling.

"What's wrong baby?" She asked, her forehead resting against yours.

"I don't know, 's all achy down there." You admitted, embarrassed as you'd only dare to stare down at her shoes.

Ellie let out a sinful chuckle,

"Well, I think I could help with that." She gave you one last kiss before taking you to her house.

You stood in her living room, your hand coming to scratch the back of your neck awkwardly as she rushed upstairs to grab 'a little something special' from her room. You'd wondered what she could be grabbing, but not for long as she returned swiftly without her bottoms now and a large black strap tightened around her hips. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, and you knew you wanted it inside of you. Your mouth watered at just the thought of her fucking your brains out.

She walked over to you with a smirk, pulling you in for yet another kiss. You smiled into it, letting out small moans here and there as the taste of her tongue felt so good against your own. You'd sighed as she pulled your top off, now placing kisses along your jaw and neck. It wasn't long before she was placing feather light kisses to the top of your boobs, then palming them roughly as she watched your face contort with pleasure.

"Get on your knees." She ordered after a minute, and you were quick to oblige.

Getting down on the floor, you looked up at Ellie with lustful eyes. She grabbed a fistful of your hair, taking a step closer to you as she held her strap in the other hand. You licked your lips before chewing slightly at your bottom one.

"Open that pretty little mouth of yours for me baby." She cooed, her hand tightening in your hair as you'd opened wide.

She chuckled as she pushed her cock into your mouth, watching with nothing but joy as she shoved it as far as it could go. You'd gagged, unable to help it, then you let out a small whimper which was muffled by her large cock. She groaned at this, tugging your hair a bit, which brought a lengthy moan from your lips.

"Fuck baby, look at you being a good little slut. Taking my cock down your throat so well. Good girl." The praise she'd given you had gotten you even wetter, if that was even possible.

Ellie would continue to move your head up and down for a bit longer until she was satisfied, carefully she removed her hand from your hair and let you pull back. Your lips left her cock with a satisfying pop sound and she smiled sinfully as she pulled you to stand. She brought a hand to your chin, wiping your saliva that had dripped down your chin while you were kept busy deep-throating her.

She'd snaked her hands around you now, gripping at your ass before giving it a harsh smack that made your body jolt with pleasure and excitement. Another kiss was brought to your lips by her, but not for long as you'd pulled away quickly.

"Ellie, please." You whimpered, she only let out a small chuckle.

"Please what? Use your words baby." She kept a finger under your chin.

"Please," another moan, "fuck me. Fuck me good and hard, please I need you." You were begging shamelessly now, and she loved it.

"Well, aren't you cute. Your wish is my command, princess." She smiled as she backed you up to the couch, lying down before pulling you on top of her.

You sat straddling her for a minute, she rubbed your thighs with her hands soothingly before ridding you of both your jeans and panties in just one motion. You bit your lip as she held your hips, lifting you so the head of her strap just grazed your dripping hole. She'd continue to tease you for what felt like ages, before you just couldn't take it anymore so you'd taken it upon yourself to lower down onto her cock. You threw your head back with a loud, pornagraphic moan as you felt the burning stretch inside of you.

Ellie scoffed,

"Did I say you could do that? Eager little slut, you're gonna regret that." She groaned as you continued making the sweetest sounds as she gripped your hips harder.

She'd waste no time, immediately thrusting into you roughly and at a fast pace that had your head spinning. Occasionally, she'd bring a hand up from your hip to place a firm smack against your ass, in the same spot every time. You were sure there'd be a mark, but you didn't care because it felt so fucking good. Then, she'd angled herself just ever so slightly differently and began to hit a spot that you didn't even know existed.

"Oh, oh god! Fuck yes, right there Ellie. Fuckk." You moaned as you called out her name, your hands finding their way to her chest as you began to grind your hips down against her.

"Oh yeah, you like that slut?" She asked, using the rather vulgar name that only got you hotter.

You nodded, feeling as if your vision went hot white at the pleasure you were feeling. It was so phenomenal, you almost thought you mightve been dreaming. But then, she stopped and held your hips tightly so you couldn't move an inch.

"Fucking answer me." She commanded.

"Yes yes. Yes I love it. Please keep going. Please." You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes.

"That's my girl." She smiled as she resumed her rough thrusts, loosening her grip on your hips so you could rut against her as well.

She bit back a moan as the strap had been hitting against her clit just right, that and the sight of you was more than enough to make her cum. The way your tits bounced underneath your scarlet red lace bra, and how beautiful your face looked as you moaned loudly. And oh the way you said her name was just so fucking sexy.

"Ellie- I'm gonna" your breath hitched with a gasp, "fuck 'm gonna cum." your moans got even louder somehow.

"Me too baby, come on cum with me. Come on baby." She'd finally let out a small moan and that sent you over the edge.

However you didn't just cum, you were gushing all over her beautifully long strap as well as her thighs. Ellie moaned louder at the sight of you squirting all over her cock, and then got her own release. She didn't stop pounding into you as she rode out her own high, and it didn't take long before you were feeling overstimulated. But you'd do anything to watch as her eyes squeezed shut with the pleasure of her orgasm.

"Mmn- fuck." She let out a small groan as she removed her cock from your hole, a small string of your slick connecting it still.

You let out a small sigh of exhaustion as you layed against her chest, smiling as her hands came to rub up and down your back. You lied there together for a minute or so before she finally spoke.

"Let's go to my room." She whispered, and you didn't say anything in return.

You'd just followed her upstairs and watched as she removed her strap, sitting on the bed and patting the spot next to her. You joined her and sat with your back against the headboard, leaning forward as she came to kiss you. You'd pulled at her shirt and giggled a bit as she ripped it off, revealing her black sports bra. Then, she'd used one hand to spread your legs before getting into position.

One of her legs straddled your hip, a hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist. Her eyes fell shut as she let out an airy moan when she'd ground her throbbing clit against your own, and you'd let out a similar sound.

"Fuck, baby. Your pussy feels so good against mine." She bit her lip, letting out more moans as she thrusted against you.

Sure, the way Ellie had pounded into you earlier was amazing and beyond pleasurable. But there was just something so euphoric about her sopping wet pussy gliding against your own. The feeling of your slicks mixing together just drove you insane. Apparently it had the same effect on Ellie because she was louder than ever, moaning and whimpering with great pleasure.

Your breath quickened as you felt yourself getting close again, and began to move your own hips against her as well. This made Ellie let out a guttural groan.

"Oh yeah, just like that baby." She said in an almost whisper, her eyes falling shut with pleasure.

And with a few more thrusts, the both of you reached yet another release. Now you weren't the only one making noise, Ellie was moaning while also letting out "thank you's and 'fuck's. After fully riding out your highs, Ellie lied down next to you. She brought a hand to wipe her forehead, it dribbled with sweat and her hair stuck to it a bit.

You felt your eyes vetting heavy, snuggling against Ellies side as you let them fall shut. She'd hold you for a minute before standing up.

"Don't fall asleep yet, baby. I wanna get you cleaned up first." She placed a kiss to your forehead, going to the bathroom then returning with a wet rag.

She wiped you down gently, placing soft kisses along your body on the way. Once she finished that, she'd given you a t-shirt of hers to wear to sleep. She climbed back into bed, pulling you to lay on her chest. You snuggled your head into the crook of her neck, bringing your hands to wrap around her shoulders.

"Goodnight Els." You said sleepily.

"Goodnight baby." She responded with a kiss on top of your head.

[brainrotcharacters]

The thing is, I don't picture Lasko with glasses. I picture him with eternally messy hair, either windswept from his magic or from him fiddling with it. I picture him tall and lean. Which makes it all the more imposing whenever he does stop fidgeting and stuttering.

I picture Damien to dress semi-casually or semi-formally. He makes an effort to look as serious as he acts; he's conscientious about the perception of others because it translates to how they'll be receptive to what he has to say. But there's just that spark of wildfire there that he can never quite hide. I'd like to think he was in some kind of three piece suit during the inversion, and it gradually got damaged and he'd needed to roll the sleeves up to better use his flames and blast the shades.

The first time I heard Huxley, I saw him with bulky shoulders and earth-y fingertips, as if he's never quite completely detached from the earth that his magic is so attuned to. He has smile lines. He has both of his mom's eyes. Not in color, but in fondness. His square jaw clenched when he learned how Freelancer was assaulted by Kody.

We don't talk about Kody.

Gavin is one of those cunts (affectionately) who regardless of how laid back or how formal their wardrobe is, he still has that asshole big money walk to him. This is only in public, and when the crew isn't with him. I saw that crooked smile and I can imagine how masterful he is at the triangle trick. I expected him and Freelancer to have sex earlier actually.

What I'm about to say is weird: Freelancer has a gorgeous neck. The muscles in it flicker when they're frazzled or flustered. When they tilt their head and their hair falls to one side, everybody who was already watching them stop breathing for a second. Gavin gravitated to that neck when he had to ground himself and make that shield during the inversion.

Weird take #2 Dear has beautiful arms and hands. Pianist guitarist fingers. They look the prettiest when Dear is using magic and summoning a strand of water. The students made surveys on what was the most distracting about them, and they easily reached an agreement. When they asked Lasko out and sat at the edge of the desk, they propped their chin on their fingers and Lasko nearly had an aneurysm. It was amazing.

[desmorotu]

more redacted headcanons!!!

some might be angsty? most of them?

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

- i saw a hc where milo isn’t necessarily short, but the other guys are just unbelievably tall. in my head milo is 5’11, ash is 6’5, and david is 6’9. tank is the only one who looks deceiving bc they’re like 5’10 in my head but their wolf is as big as david’s. ppl from the outside make the joke that shaw security is secretly a tall person club

- guy was a music major before he switched to writing. i mentioned it in his playlist post but i get those vibes HARD. he also writes honey poetry because he knows they secretly like it

- i like the idea that darlin and angel came from a rough family upbringing because 1. it’s relatable to a lot of ppl and 2. it would explain why tank shoves themselves into harms way and why angel is so outgoing now. it shows different responses to trauma imo.

- babe sometimes has crippling panic attacks on the thought of angel being a latent empowered and leaving them alone as the unempowered person of the group, but in my mind babe is the latent one and they’re a fire elemental.

- sweetheart feels guilty sometimes for being empowered while the other mates aren’t. they know it has absolutely nothing to do with them and that they can’t do anything about it, but sometimes they feel a pang in their heart at the fact that the other two won’t feel their core swell and warm up when looking at their mates.

- starlight has night terrors about the time they fell down—both times. they also think about when avior fell and they can’t help but intrusively picture what he looked like when he finally landed. it makes them physically ill. avior has to be extra careful when talking back about their experiences sometimes.

- lovely is still goes to therapy every week to work through the trauma of adam, dying, and now they’ve added the summit on top of that. they’re withering away into a husk of themselves. they’re so exhausted with dealing with all of this pressure, but they’d do anything for vincent (and i think that’s going to be their downfall).

- gavin has been brought to tears on multiple occasions at the thought that freelancer loves him for him and not just because he’s an incubus. he’s had to muffle his sobs because he genuinely does not know how he deserved someone so loving. he hasn’t brought it up to them yet.

- i think that freelancer is on the ace spectrum (greysexual maybe?) and that gavin was the only person they’ve ever really had sex with, or wanted to have sex with. they trusted him enough to “show them the ropes” and he built their confidence to where it is now. gavin helped build their relationship with sex and while they’re still on the spectrum, they’re more positive about it and they enjoy that kind of intimacy with him.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

that’s all that i can squeeze out of my brain rn >:( i haven’t been on tumblr that much and UGH it’s just bc my real life is more interesting than my redacted life (which is a very good thing, but still it makes me sad) and i have no motivation to post 💔 but here are some hcs that have been on my mind lately :3 i hope they make sense

k byeee 💟

[musclejedi-tameem]

Gavin and his boyfriend wanted to spice things up in the bedroom and thought that maybe some role play would help. So Derrick, Gavin’s bf, got some cigarettes even though neither guy smoked and gave them to Gavin. He took it and put in it his mouth and as soon as he did it lit by itself as if by magic! Gavin coughed as he inhaled the bitter smoke and as he coughed his voice began to get deeper and deeper. “Fuck babe you ok?” Derrick asked. Gavin just groaned as his voiced dropped and his body heated up. He began to get taller and taller and wider as well. His twink frame was swelling muscle and fat. His arms swelled into huge thick arms and his chest filled out with big thick slabs for pecs. His legs filled out to support the massive upper body he now had. His moans turned horny as his dick began to respond. It got hard but shrink just a bit as it expanded and got as thick as a beer can. His balls dropped lower and swelled up as well causing hair to fill out everywhere on his body. It got thick and dark as his jar line changed and got more defined. Then a thick dark beard filled it on it. His eyes took in a cold dominate look as his thick arms filled in with tattoos. His clothes changed to tight leather that showed off his muscles and thick hard cock. The changes ended with silver jewelry appearing on him as his car outside turned into a classic Harley Davidson motorcycle. “Gavin?! You ok babe?” Derick asked. Scared and shocked to see what his body friend had become. “Who’s that boy? I’m Daddy to you. Got it?” Gavin’s new gruff deep voice said. Derrick just stammered in response. “Bed now boy!” Gavin rumbled and pushed him towards their room. Their wish had come true for real. Their love life was definitely spiced up now that Gavin was a real leather daddy. Derrick loved him this way too and they had amazing sex together always now.

[isagrimorie]

It’s always frustrating whenever the BAU tackles a case where either the victimology or UnSub has similarities to Prentiss’s background/upbringing but the writers rarely use it to give insights on Prentiss or have Prentiss’s background provide some insights into a case.

As an example, The Performer is an episode featuring Gavin Rossdale as a rockstar whose kayfabe was being a Vampire ala Lestat but fake.

The show could have dove a little into the goth community, a community Emily Prentiss used to be a part of. Did they do that? Unfortunately, no, they hung a lantern on it. The writers had Penelope tease Emily about how she used to dress Goth. Even though, Emily still dressed like one but corporate style.

In the episode, Pleasure is My Business. The UnSub grew up around wealth and privilege and then used sex work to lure her victims.

We discover in Lauren that Prentiss was in a similar enough situation re: Operation Valhalla.

Ala The Americans show, Prentiss used intimacy to get close to Ian Doyle.

Emily Prentiss became Lauren Reynolds because she matched Doyle’s type.

I know the writers had a vague idea of Prentiss’ past only that the writers had breadcrumbs pointing to a rich, mysterious past. They don’t have a crystal ball, but the privileged background could have been a jumping off point for a discussion, an insight to the UnSub’s thoughts.

In the season 16 episode, Orpheus Wrecks, the writers could have again used that case as a way to get more insight into Prentiss’ hidden personal life. As a Politician’s kid, and a somewhat savvy political operator herself, Prentiss would have been as familiar, if more, to the DC wonk space as Bailey was.

Prentiss would also be familiar with the Beltway Elite app even if she didn’t use it herself.

(As a former Spook, the idea of having an app like that in her phone would give Prentiss OpSec paranoia. She would not want her photo distributed everywhere. Being on Politico was enough of a headache for her tbh).

I know Prentiss’ whole thing is she wanted to distance herself from her mother’s political life but she would still have friends and would have known more people as she climbed up the ladder in the FBI.

Other shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Elementary, and Person of Interest almost always use a kernel of similarity/parallelism in their various cases of the week as a jumping-off point to tell a richer story about their characters.

Criminal Minds does but selectively.

This is what makes the show frustrating. You can always tell when the show could have threaded the Case/Monster of the Week and connected the case to one of the characters.

Morgan and JJ also needed more exploration. The only one the writers they consistently use this with is Reid.

To the writer’s credit they have vaguely gestured at Emily’s mysterious past— setting up Emily’s existential crisis about her morality in the face of what she’s done while she worked for CIA and JTF-12.

But then the show goes several episodes mentioning the problem, an arc villain, and it’s frustrating!

(I sometimes lowkey wish some Whedon trained writers joined Criminal Minds to establish a good character-to-case ratio. Like, Jane Espenson. Or someone from Person of Interest writers room joining the Evolution writers team. The idea of Denise Thé writing for the CM ladies makes me yearn because delicious character development + inventive messed up twists. Erica Messer does a good job showrunning— a different job altogether than just writing for the show. But also— I yearn! Think about a POI caliber writer in a CM writers room! It would be so good to have, IMO. Not that PoI was entirely perfect either, I have my frustrations too!)

——

Chris Mundy seemed interested in delving into the internal lives of the characters, especially Emily’s. Demonology was really important for our understanding of Emily Prentiss.

Her guilt, her low-key self-loathing— the way she runs from the people she loves because she thinks she’s not worth it. The way she can conform to be anyone to fit into a situation and not stand out.

Her casual regard for sex as a tool to help her get accepted. All things that were helpful for Prentiss when she became a spy.

As Michael Westen from Burn Notice said: “People with happy families don’t become spies. A bad childhood is the perfect background for covert ops.”

TLDR— It’s just frustrating because they’re always nearly at the cusp of a great character driven procedural but then almost always back off from giving us really good food.

[thedaughterofadam]

My S.O. headcanons for the #redactedaudio universe. Because I can and why not. {#NSFW under the cut, Minors Do Not Interact.}

Angel:

- Has thrown a cane {Because of course they broke their leg doing something illegal}, at a police car.

- Baaabe and Angel have been best friends since middle school. As soon as Baaabe knew who Angel was it was immediately our girlfriend to David.

- Has said Davey Wavey with puppy dog eyes to get David to grab things from the top shelf for them. {Immediately was told to never call him that while he was laughing}, Now climbs to the top shelf and mock growls at David when he pulls them off.

---------------------------------------------------++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

- Has been a horrible person to play with one on one with Mario Kart. {David definitely has focused enough to pause the game and immediately fuck their brains out}, but horrible none the less.

- Has made David wear a Devil costume for Halloween because they dress as their pet name an Angel which makes David both horny and laugh.

Baaabe

- Has been in an abusive relationship so makes sure to praise Asher and make him feel like a priority as Asher does for them.

- Wears Asher's gym Shorts while running. {They're a runner and a track star, don't ask why, I just think Gym Babe}

- Is taller than Angel so definitely has thrown David's mate over their shoulder more than once when they did some mischievous activities.

- Baaabe doesn't do puppy dog eyes, they do a cat smile when they want something. Why? {Because they always have a devious plan, Angel's best friend for a reason}

- They prefer warm sweets to cold, I don't make the rules, but they like warm things.

Sweetheart

{They're my favorite, so if you thought I forgot you're wrong.}

- Met both Baaabe and Angel in college, has not been able to escape them since.

- Disappears on top of the fridge so they can scare Asher, has succeeded and got stuck in top of the fridge.

- Has been a dancer their whole life, so them being bendy definitely doesn't make Milo horny, and their practices aren't always timed so perfectly that Milo sees them when he gets home from work. {Wink, Wonk}

- Jumps onto furniture like a cat when they get scared, hissing at the thing that scared them has happened more than once.

- Loves when Milo gets out of the shower, helping him get ready for bed. Because they like that he lets them around when he's vulnerable.

Darlin'

{Also one of my favorites top Three along with Sweetheart}

-Military Dad, divorced parents, friends with the boys for years. Always cries on Gabe's death anniversary because that's the only good Father figure they had.

- Left for college at an Arts school met Quinn when their Dad had basically disowned them for not wanting to stay in Dahlia with him. Hence the Daddy Issues.

- Has called Sam Daddy once by complete accident, it was one of those joking things and immediately got Sam turned on, they both learned things that night.

- Likes to paint on the porch, watching the sun set and rise to relax. Sam has had to pick them up and bring them to bed because they fell asleep painting in the sun.

- Likes when Sam showers with them. They like washing his hair and making sure he relaxes makes them feel at ease.

Freelancer

- Has hidden themselves behind the large stacks of chips at Costco as a child.

- Prefers the blue candy to the red candy at stores.

- Has made Gavin carry them after sex because they like being close to him, and they get princess treatment.

- Dances around the apartment while Gavin cooks, because they like making him laugh as they try to do the Tiktok dances.

- Likes when Gavin's hands are ein their hair, it brings them comfort

Lasko's S.O.

{Let me know if they have a name}

- Prefers tea to Coffee

-Likes cold sweets, definitely eats an ice cream cone during a snow storm.

- Likes to be under all the blankets while sleeping because Lasko is cold and they want all the cuddles.

- Has made Lasko read to them just to distract him with kisses and soft touches.

- Likes seeing Lasko in charge so they watch him do paperwork so they can stare at his RBF without being noticed.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 7: SHOULD EVERY RABID DOG GET ITS TAIL DOCKED UP TO THE EARS?

synopsis: you, connor, and hank deal with deviants in the eden club. connor spurs on another uncomfortable conversation near the detroit river.

word count: 4.4k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: sorry for the late update insurance is kicking my ASS about the accident i was just in.. like it's my first one bro why y'all hounding me like that 😭😭

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

It’s impossible to ignore the bright pink neon sign advertising the Eden Club and the dull thrum of EDM coming from inside. You slowly pull up to the side of the street and park, looking out the passenger window at the club’s entrance.

“Aw…” Hank mumbles from the passenger seat. “Feels like someone’s playin’ with a drill inside my skull.”

He looks at the entrance. You can tell his head is throbbing doubly just from the bright colors. “You sure this is the place?”

“It’s the address on the report,” Connor answers from the backseat.

You lean over and look at the glove box. “Don’t you have Ibuprofen in there? Or some type of pain medication?”

“Yeah, I think,” Hank grumbles. He pops open the glove box and fishes out a pill bottle. He shakes out two and swallows them dry.

You turn off the ignition and sigh softly. “Let’s get this over with.”

Hank gets out (hitting his head on the roof of the car in the process), and you and Connor follow. He leads the way into the club entrance, where the lights pulse in soft, erotic colors. 

“Sexiest androids in town,” Hank reads off a TV in the entry hall, then glances at Connor. “Now I see why you insisted on coming here!”

“I was not programmed with a sex drive, or any other types of ‘desires,’ Lieutenant,” Connor says. “It could possibly distract me from the investigation if I did.”

You almost say, ‘Aw, really?’ out loud, but bite your tongue at the last second. Instead, you move forward into the club. 

Androids are littered about, moving sensually and palming themselves on poles and inside the tubes that line the walls. It turns your stomach – they’re beings (or, rather, things) created just to drown in the crashing wave that is human sex and desire. They fall and hurt and break and are thrown away to move onto the next. You keep your eyes on the floor and press on.

“Which room is it?” You ask, your eyes flitting to the doors and keeping them off the androids.

“The only one that says ‘Occupied,’” Officer Collins says. “And, uh – be warned. Gavin’s in there, too.”

“Oh, great,” Hank groans. “A dead body and an asshole, just what I needed.”

You follow Hank into the private room, taking it in. A naked corpse lays on the circular bed, made decent by the faux-silk blanket covering it. A deactivated android lays to the side, Thirium staining her otherwise perfect face.

“Lieutenant Anderson, Comrade Commie, and their little plastic pet,” Gavin sneers. “The fuck are you three doin’ here?”

“We’ve been assigned all cases involving androids,” Connor says as he surveys the room.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re wasting your time.” Gavin gestures to the corpse. “Just some pervert who, uh, got more action than he could handle.”

He laughs, then looks to Chris as if to confirm what he just said was funny. Chris isn’t laughing, if that’s any indication. 

Hank gives a tight-lipped smile. “We’ll have a look anyway, if you don’t mind.”

“C’mon, let’s go.” Gavin walks past Hank, giving him a dirty look. “It’s, uh… starting to stink of booze, and…” he looks over at you. “The loss of private property.”

He gives Connor a way-too-forceful shoulder-check on the way out. The too-sympathetic part of you is worried Gavin hurt his own shoulder, but you stomp the thought down as soon as you think it.

Chris gives all of you a smile that says ‘I’m so fucking sorry you’re here.’ “Night, Lieutenant. Night, Officer.”

“Goodnight, Chris,” you say. “Please say goodnight to Damian for me.”

“He doesn’t even have object permanence yet,” Chris laughs. “But I will.” The door closes behind him as he leaves. 

You start looking closer at the room as Connor makes a beeline for the deactivated android. You kneel by the corpse.

“You sure you’re good to be that close to it?” Hank says from beside you. 

“I’m getting used to corpses.” You look up at him. “As horrible as that is.”

Hank huffs out a laugh and looks over at Connor. A look of horror crosses his face. “Whoa – hey-hey-hey!”

You look over at Connor. He’s holding up two fingers to his mouth, Thirium dripping down the length of them. 

“Augh, Connor,” Hank groans. “You’re so disgusting… Think I’m gonna puke again.”

“Connor, you told us you would warn us!” You whine.

“I apologize,” Connor says. He then stands and moves over to kneel next to you, his eyes on the corpse. His LED flickers yellow as he observes the bruising on the corpse’s neck. 

“He didn’t die of a heart attack,” Connor says. “He was strangled.”

“Yeah, I saw the bruising on the neck,” Hank says from the other side of the room. “Doesn’t prove anything, though. Could’ve been rough play.”

“I don’t think so,” you say. You lean forward, careful not to get too close. “Kink choking is when you squeeze the sides of someone’s neck to emulate the feeling of being choked. The bruises make it look like his windpipe was crushed deliberately.” 

You pause, then scratch your cheek. “Don’t ask how I know that.”

“I won’t.” Hank shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t want to stunt a homicide detective in the making.”

Connor stands. “We’re missing something here.”

You look over your shoulder at the dead android. Connor follows your eyes and moves over to her, then kneels by her side.

“Think you can read the android’s memory?” Hank asks. “Maybe you can see what happened.”

The skin on Connor’s fingers peel back and he puts his first two fingers on the deactivated android’s wrist. “I don’t know. Some of its inner components are damaged, and I can’t access them.”

You move so you’re kneeling next to Connor. You hold out your left hand then extend your thumb and index finger, and your world again turns into monochrome-blues. Two pieces of information pop up in the corner of your eye as you observe the highlighted parts of the android: Selector #5402 Critically Damaged. Biocomponent #6970 Critically Damaged.

“Let me try something.” You press gently on her stomach and slide the plastic of her abdomen open. You grunt as you force your left hand in and reach into her upper chest, feeling around for what you need. “Ah! I found it. Two seconds…”

You can feel the wires from your glove snake out. They poke and prod and eventually jack into a port.

Information flickers into your view, and you glance over it quickly. “She’s badly damaged. If I can pull this off, she’ll only be alive for a minute. Maybe less.”

“Do it,” Connor says. 

You twitch your fingers and the wires spin the port. It clicks into place, and she rises with an unneeded, artificial gasp of air. She tries to scramble away, but your arm is still lodged in her abdomen. 

“Эй – Эй!” You shout. “Let me get my hand.”

When she stills, you carefully disconnect the wires and extract your hand. She crawls away backwards until her back hits the wall. 

Connor approaches her, ever calm and soothing. He crouches, making sure to stay on her level. “Calm down. Everything’s alright. All we want is to know what happened.”

“Is he…” She looks over at the corpse. “Is he dead?”

“Tell me what happened,” Connor repeats. 

She looks over at Connor, then away. “He started… hitting me. Again, and again.”

“Did you kill him?” Connor asks.

“No!” She responds, almost incredulous. “No, it wasn’t me.”

“Were you alone in the room?” Connor pressures, talking quicker. “Was there anyone else with you?”

“H-he wanted to play with two girls,” she says. “That’s what he said. There were two of us.”

“What model was the other android?” Connor moves closer. “Did it look like you?”

Her mouth opens and her eyes unfocus. Her face relaxes and stills in a perpetual death mask. 

You look down at your hand. It’s stained with her Thirium. You clench your hand into a fist, then wipe it off on your jeans. Connor stands with an exhale of something that sounds like frustration.

“So there was another android,” Hank says. “This happened over an hour ago. It’s probably long gone.”

“No.” Connor gestures to the deactivated android. “It couldn’t go out dressed like that unnoticed. It might still be here.”

You stand and sigh. “There are too many богом забытых androids in this place. How are we going to find the deviant?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Hank sighs. “Maybe an eyewitness? Somebody who saw it leaving the room.”

He moves closer to the door. “I’m gonna go ask the manager a few questions about what he saw. Let me know if either of you think of anything.”

You look down at the deactivated android and hear the door close behind Hank. Her face still holds that expression of ever-lasting fear. 

“Are you okay, Officer?” Connor asks from somewhere behind you. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I… She was… scared. I feel bad for her. She didn’t do anything wrong.” You look over your shoulder at the corpse. “He did.”

“It’ll be okay,” Connor says. “We’ll figure this case out. Its deactivation will serve a purpose.”

You look over at him. He almost looks concerned for you. But you know better. It’s just his social relations program doing the work and his voice and expression expediting it.

You turn your eyes away and walk towards the door. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.”

The door opens automatically and shuts once Connor goes through it behind you. You step to the side and observe the lobby. The androids continue moving in erotic and tempting ways, completely unfazed by the corpse in the next room.

You move over to where Hank’s standing, talking to the manager, who looks more sleazy than words can describe. 

“Nah, I didn’t know him,” the manager says. “He came in maybe two, three times. I mean, these guys, they don’t really talk very much, y’know? They come in, do their business, and then go on their way.”

“You ever had any trouble with androids before?” Hank asks. 

“No way!” Then, the manager thinks for a second. “Well… once. We lost a model two, three months back. Ah, same model. Just vanished – we never found out what happened.”

Your eyes glance over the androids dancing on poles. “What kind of kinks are the androids programmed with? Anything to do with receiving impact play?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the manager says. “Some of them. We have specialized models with higher durability and all that.”

“And the one that…?” You nod your head towards the closed door. 

“Nah.” The manager shakes his head. “It was just a regular model.”

Connor comes over from your left. “Excuse me, Officer. Can you come here a second?”

“Did you find something?” You ask. 

“Maybe.” He turns on his heel and walks away. He comes to a stop beside a tube holding an android. “Can you rent this Traci?”

“Какого хуя?” You turn to look at Connor. “You just said you don’t have a sex drive. If this is a joke, it’s really weird.”

Connor catches your arm as you start to walk away. “Please, Officer! Just trust me.”

There’s a look in his puppy dog eyes that wrenches your heart. He almost looks like he’s begging. 

You roll your eyes and shake free from his grasp. With a few grumbles in Russian, you press a few buttons on the interface. 

“Hello,” a female voice chimes. “A thirty minute session costs $29.99. Please confirm your purchase.”

You glance over at Connor as you press your palm against the interface. “When Fowler inevitably asks why this is on my expense account, you better vouch for me.”

“Purchase confirmed!” The voice chimes again. “Eden Club wishes you a pleasant experience.”

The android steps out of the tube and takes your arm in both hands, her touch feather-light and sensual. Her skin shimmers with glitter, just barely visible in the low light. “Delighted to meet you.”

She looks over at Connor. One of her hands leaves your arm to take his hand. “I’m so glad to be playing with two. Follow me, I’ll show you to our room.”

“Чего?!” You take your arm away. “No, no. This isn’t a threesome! What are you talking about? Connor!”

Connor takes the Traci’s arm, his skin peeling back. Her face tenses as she stares, paralyzed, into Connor’s eyes.

After a second, he disconnects and turns back to you. “It saw something!”

“What are you talking about?” You look over at the Traci. She looks just as confused as you. “Saw what?”

“The deviant leave the room. A blue-haired Traci.” A look of panic crosses Connor’s face. “Club policy is to wipe the android’s memory every two hours. We only have a few minutes if we wanna find another witness!”

And so, you trail after Connor, renting and promptly ignoring sex-bots. Hank follows both of you with an amused look on his face. In your mind, you count up the amount of money you’ll have to beg Fowler to excuse – somewhere above a hundred dollars, all spent within the same five minutes at the same sex club.

“I know where it went!” Connor says as he disconnects from yet another android. “Follow me.”

“Fuckin’ ay,” Hank grumbles. “This is crazy…!”

Connor leads the way into a staff door and through a maintenance hallway. When he reaches the end of the hall, Hank stops him. 

“I’ll take it from here.” He pushes Connor behind him, and Connor subsequently pushes you behind himself.

Hank draws his gun and opens the door, revealing a small back-room warehouse. It’s dimly lit, and littered with androids in standby mode. (It’s honestly really creepy. Like mannequins, but worse, somehow.)

When Hank deems it clear, you step down the stairs after Connor. Something on the wall catches your eye – graffiti, reading rA9. 

You point at it. “rA9. It’s spreading.”

“Huh,” Hank hums. “Maybe it’s something in their programming.”

Suddenly, there’s a crash from somewhere behind you. You turn just in time to see Connor be tackled to the floor by an android. 

Hank is quicker with his reaction time and pulls his gun again, shouting “Don’t move!”

But he’s quickly ambushed by another android. Before you can think, your feet carry you over to defend him. You wrench her off Hank and earn an elbow to your barely-healing nose.

“Блядь!” You stumble back, cradling your nose that’s starting to bleed again. Your eyes water, and you desperately try to blink the tears away. 

When your vision clears, you see Connor and one of the girls barrel out of the open garage door and into the back alley. The blue-haired Traci scrambles after her, grabbing the other girl’s hand and helping her up. 

You run and grab Connor’s arm to help him up, almost slipping on the wet concrete. Hank comes soon after, but is thwarted when both androids knock him down. You can hear the metal sound of a gun scraping against the ground. 

“Quick!” Hank shouts. “They’re getting away!”

Connor shoots after them, pulling one of the girls down from the chain link fence they were both climbing. They immediately fight back, sending Connor into the wall. He grapples against them, but loses his grip as he falls to the concrete.

“Hank’s gun!” You yell. “Get his gun!”

Connor does as he’s told and gets up on one knee, pointing the gun at one of the girls. In a split second, his grip falters and she delivers a stiletto to his face.

He falls back, then stands. He doesn’t make a move for the gun. 

You come to stand next to Connor, putting a hand out to stop him from coming any closer to them. “You killed him, yes? Why did you do it?”

Traci pauses for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “When that man broke the other Traci, I knew I was next.” She looks away, then her gaze steels and returns to yours. “I was so scared… I begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t.”

“So you defended yourself?” You ask.

“I… I didn’t mean to kill him,” she says. “I just wanted to stay alive. To get back to the one I love.”

The other android reaches forward and intertwines her fingers with Traci’s. They share a glance, both of their expressions filled with love and adoration for one another.

“I wanted her to hold me in her arms again,” Traci says. “Make me forget about the humans… their smell of sweat and their dirty words.”

You so desperately want to ask a million questions about their deviation, but bite your tongue. Now isn’t the time for curiosity and interrogations. 

You stay silent as the girls climb the fence and disappear around the corner. Somehow, the rain that’s beating down on your shoulders feels lighter and warmer. It’s a nice summer drizzle instead of an autumn downpour. 

“It’s probably better this way,” Hank says quietly. He turns and starts walking back into the warehouse.

You grab Connor’s arm, causing him to look over at you. “You did the right thing. To try to exterminate every deviant is like… like dragging water through a sieve. Letting two go isn’t failing your mission completely.”

Connor nods, then looks at the corner where the two girls disappeared. His eyes turn to the ground and his eyebrows crease. “I know.”

You shift in the passenger seat, slumping until your knees hit the glove box. The music Hank put on is still raging along, a mess of electric guitars and drums and screamo vocals. At least your nose has stopped bleeding.

“Does he do this frequently?” Connor asks from the backseat. 

“Too frequently,” you mumble. “I’m tempted to put a tracker in his boot, but I know every time I lose him I’ll just find him here.”

And, of course, ‘here’ is a public playground. Hank’s in his favorite spot – on a bench facing the Detroit River. 

“I’m going to check on him.” You sit up and glance back at Connor. “Give me two minutes. He’s… I just need to talk to him. Alone. Okay?”

“Okay,” Connor says. 

You get out of the car, closing the door behind you. You move over to the bench that Hank’s sitting on the back of. Snow crunches under your shoes as you walk.

You sit down on the bench properly and sigh, running your hands along your thighs. “Hank.”

He says your name in response, avoiding your eyes and looking down at his bottle of whiskey.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you say softly. “It… I’m… боже. You’re slowly killing yourself, but you’re slowly killing me, too. Death isn’t something you’re meant to anticipate. We’re supposed to believe that the disease will skip over us, that the bullet will clip our ear instead of finding a home in our head. Old age is a long affair, so we don’t have to think about that. But…”

You look up at him. He’s not looking at you. “I can’t count the number of times I thought you died, Hank – the most recent one being earlier this evening. You play with guns and liquor and your life like… like they’re toys!”

You look out at the river. “You get sad, Hank. And angry. Too sad, too angry. Most people can’t get that sad. It’s impossible to watch because other people get sad, too, but… not like you. You’ve been down and out and on a bender for three years. You’ve gotten violent. Not against me – never against another person. But you’ve started beating yourself. And it’s so fucking gut-wrenching to watch you be… be this.”

There’s the sound of a car door opening and closing behind you. 

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” you say softly. “I won’t forget about this.”

You look to your left and see Connor coming to a stop beside the bench. He’s looking out across the river, at the lights of the buildings on the opposite shore. 

“Nice view, huh?” Hank mumbles. “We used to come here a lot before…”

Your eyes fall to the snow-covered ground as you feel a familiar pang in your chest. You swallow thickly and try to ignore it.

“Before what?” Connor asks.

Hank looks over at him. “Hm?”

“You said ‘I used to come here a lot before.’” Connor looks over at Hank. “Before what?”

“Before…” Hank looks down at you, then out at the river. “Before nothin’.”

Connor crosses his arms, like he’s protecting himself against the cold. “Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

“Do all androids ask so many personal questions?” Hank asks. “Or is it just you?”

“I saw a photo of a child on your kitchen table,” Connor says. You tense as he continues. “It was your son, right?”

Hank glances at you. “Yeah… his name was Cole.”

An uncomfortable silence settles over all of you. You listen to the river lazily move along, quiet waves just barely making sounds. Your eyes flit up as Connor walks in front of the bench, facing out towards the water.

“We’re not making any progress on this investigation,” Connor says. “The deviants have nothing in common. They’re all different models, produced at different times, at different places…”

“Well, there must be some link,” Hank says.

“There is,” you say. “All of them have been in the presence of or victim of violent behavior. And all of them have expressed some worship or reverence of rA9.”

“That’s true.” Connor turns to face you and Hank. “It’s almost like some kind of… myth. Or superstition, like you said. Something they invented that wasn’t a part of their original program.”

“Androids believing in God,” Hank mumbles against the lip of his bottle. “Fuck, what’s this world coming to?”

“You seem… preoccupied, Lieutenant.” Connor walks forward a few paces, looking at Hank. “Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?”

“Those two girls…” Hank looks down at the ground. “They just wanted to be together. They really seemed… in love.”

“You seem troubled, Lieutenant.” 

You look up and see that Connor’s come closer. His hair and blazer are speckled with snow. From this distance, you can see the few freckles that dot his face. He almost looks real like this – like a real man. Not a machine made of plastic and metal.

“It’s ironic,” Connor says. “I didn’t think machines could have such an effect on you.”

Hank exhales sharply and takes a swig of whiskey. “What about you, Connor?”

He gets up and takes a few steps towards Connor. “You look human. You sound human. But what are you, really?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant.” Connor looks at you, but continues talking to Hank. “Your other partner. Your second buddy to drink with.” His eyes return to Hank. “Or just a machine, designed to accomplish a task.”

“You could’ve shot those two girls, but you didn’t.” Hank shoves Connor, who stumbles back. “Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?”

You stand from the bench. “Hank.” There’s a silent warning in your voice.

“Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?” Hank moves closer to Connor.

Connor’s foot shifts, like he was about to take a step back, but stopped at the last moment. “No! I just… decided not to shoot. That’s all.”

Hank reaches into his waistband and pulls out his revolver. You automatically move forward, reaching a hand out. 

“Hank, think about this,” you say, even and slow. 

He glances over his shoulder, then promptly ignores you in favor of staring down Connor through the sights of his gun. “Are you afraid to die, Connor?”

Connor’s mouth opens, and he hesitates before he actually speaks. “I would certainly find it regrettable to be…” he pauses. “Interrupted before I can finish this investigation.”

“What’ll happen if I pull this trigger? Hm?” Hank tilts his head to the side in a taunting way. “Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?”

Connor steps forward, his forehead pressing against the muzzle of the gun. Your heart leaps into your throat. “Connor!”

“You know you’re not going to shoot me, Lieutenant,” Connor says evenly. His eyes never leave Hank’s. “You’re just trying to provoke a reaction. I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

“You think you’re so fucking smart,” Hank grinds out. “Always one step ahead, huh? Tell me this, smartass: how do I know you’re not a deviant?”

“I self-test regularly,” Connor says. “I know what I am, and what I am not.”

Hank’s lips draw back in a snarl before he yanks the gun away from Connor’s forehead. You let out a shaky breath as Hank storms off, digging his car keys out of his pocket. 

“Where are you going?” Connor calls after him. 

“To get drunker,” Hank says. “I need to think.”

You sit back down on the bench, resting your head in shaking hands. “Господи, блять, боже…”

“Are you okay, Officer?” Connor asks. It seems that’s the most frequent question he asks you as of late. 

“No!” You snap, your fingers digging into your scalp. “What the fuck is happening? I can’t wrap my head around how I was stuck with two of the stupidest detectives on the face of this very Earth!”

You stand and move over to Connor, grabbing his shoulders. “What the hell were you thinking? You know how… how he is! If you had faltered one more time before this, he would’ve shot you! You know that, right?”

“If he shot me, another Connor model would’ve been deployed,” Connor says evenly. 

“I don’t want another Connor model!” You bark. “I want…”

You. I want you. The message rings in the cold air, loud yet unsaid. It’s not an I want you in a sexual or romantic manner: it’s an I want you as in I want you to be safe. I want you out of harm’s way, even if you keep putting yourself in it. I want you to be behind me when the gunshots of revolution sound.

You take a step back and let Connor go. “I need to think.”

“Do you need me to accompany you?” He asks. 

“No,” you say. “I just… I need to be alone right now.”

You turn and start walking away. Snow crunches under your shoes with every footfall. Connor stays perfectly still where you left him, dried Thirium from your left hand staining the right shoulder of his blazer.

[hammerhead-jpg]

I made some changes to my Scorp desig

No I did not bother to make him look like the same person in both sketches

At least the lopsided titties make an appearance in both

Y'all want some Scorp headcannons under the cut?

You know Gavin? You know his ideals? Imagine like the opposite of those ideals. That's Scorpius

My man definitely just wants to get his energy and get the hell out of there so he definitely treats sex like a transaction and doesn't particularly like hook-up culture but thinks it's his only way of survival

Sadly, when a person does show him kindness he assumes it's because they're trying to make themselves feel like a good person

He doesn't particularly like shapeshifting or uses it all the time, but if a person says "I'd fuck you if you were ____" y'know...

While captured by close knit he acts like the biggest brat all the time

Things like snapping at the members or being difficult

And the close knit people treat him like he's infected with a disease so he'll crawl on the counters/tables, put his shoes on things, passive agressivly hands the members their coats, if there's any snacks he's touching every single one, taking sips out of the members cups and then passive agressivly proclaiming that he forgot it was theirs

Stuff that he knows isn't big enough for the higher-ups to punish. He barely has anything there so the most they can punish him with is holding back feedings and if they do that he has less magic to work for them so it generally isn't worth it.

It's his way of taking back control when he already has so little

If you couldn't tell by the "currently captured by a demon hating cult run by humans" and "calling Elliott "human" every opportunity he gets" he's not the fondest of humans.

Not Vega-level hating but they leave a bad taste in his mouth (no joke intended)

He's not fond of the idea that human-esque life (spending most time in elegy, living in a house, having a job, being in a community with humans) is inherently more meaningful than staying in Aria doing whatever demons do there, but this opinion limits him in ways

He has a house in elegy that he likes spending time in but he wouldn't admit that to himself because it's a human thing

He likes fashion, designing and making clothes and jewelry but doesn't indulge in it because it's a human thing

These headcannons ended up being more depressive than I thought

[after-witch]

Dr Gavin!!!!!! I went to the dentist today and somewhere deep in the recess my mind Dr Gavin snuck out.

Got any tidbits on him? I feel like the fic was a long time ago!

Oh, ahhh thank you for asking about a (vague) OC of mine, I don't mind sharing some tidbits!

Here's a few:

(note: references to noncon, drugging, abuse of power)

He's very much a no-nonsense dentist, and this applies to any reader he becomes obsessed with

He finds that his attitude can help guide you in the... right direction, both in terms of your dental hygiene and putting you underneath his metaphorical thumb

He prefers to worm his way into your life bit by bit--offering to check up on you with a phone call ("I only give this out to patients that I feel need the extra help," he'll say, giving you the number on a professional looking business card--it doesn't look shady, that way) which slowly extends to him asking about your personal life in other ways

Eventually he's not just checking on your dental hygiene but everything else; are you getting enough sleep? Eating right? Hanging out with the right people?

He'll isolate you as much as possible, including having you come in after hours so he doesn't have to worry about anyone else hearing what he says or does at his appointments

He can and will use laughing gas or other tools available at the dentist to make you calmer and more loosey goosey

It makes it easier for him to be more intimate with you, during appointments--not that he'd be so untoward as to have sex with you in the office, no no, but who's to say his gloved hands won't find their way under your clothing... his lips won't find their way to your own, after he's wiped away a bit of drool and blood?

He prefers not to kidnap but if he has to, he will--this is a last resort if you do something silly like want to leave his dental practice or accuse of him anything untoward

He has easy access to a few different things that can make you pliant enough to guide into his car or knock you out entirely

He hates the idea of you fighting him, but he also gets massively turned on at the idea of being the one to brush your teeth and floss them once he's brought you home, should you prove unwilling to behave

[starmocha]

popping on instagram for a quick sec because i wanted to look at the new mlqc updates real quick

so tell me

why the first things i see are

swole grassland!sylus looking like he's gonna ride you harder than his fucking horse

and

caracal!sylus looking like he wants to leave mating bite marks on you

and

lost oasis!sylus having shower sex with you

can....can my instagram search page calm down....i'm in public rn....i just wanted to see some wholesome mlqc contents....i just wanted to see dapper gavin...

[mercurytojupiter]

the labyrinth - chapter one

a/n: do you guys have any idea how hard it is to get my friends to beta for saltburn?

warnings: farleigh being farleigh, which includes underage drugs, drinking, cigarettes and sex 18+

fic summary: ariadne gavin and her childhood best friend turned enemy return to saltburn for the last time

Ariadne is twenty-one now, and can hardly recall the last civilized conversation she had with Farleigh Start while sober. Everything about him is grating. She can't even imagine how he used to be her best friend.

He bites his lip as he throws an arm around his girl-of-the-week, whose name has come and gone from Ariadne's mind so quickly it was like she'd never heard it at all. Alicia? Felicia? She doesn't know and doesn't care. She doesn't. And she absolutely cannot smell the mix of his citrus and sandalwood cologne - a signature scent that they had picked out together when they were twelve, and yes, hers was the matching, feminine version of the same collection - and the sharp tang of cigarettes. She is not looking at his hair and thinking about how he's using the wrong conditioner because it's frizzing, and probably not even wearing his durag since he's waking up in a different bed every morning.

She's not paying attention to any of that.

She sits comfortably on India's lap, laughing breathily at whatever joke the girl just made. She doesn't know and doesn't care, but India tightens her grip and presses a red lipstick print into her neck, she takes another hit off of her blunt and waits for Farleigh to fade away.

Ariadne and India aren't dating, but they are fucking. Poor replacements for the two boys at the table, but replacements nonetheless.

Besides, if Ariadne had learned one thing during her education, it was that boys got off on girls making out. She liked it personally, but she knew some girls did it just to catch Felix's eye. Their loss, Felix didn't find Ariadne hot so he found none of the girls she kissed hot either. India has yet to learn this lesson.

Felix is talking about how some nerd was his hero or something because of the flat tire on his bike, Ariadne doesn't know and certainly doesn't care when the nerd himself catches Felix's eye.

Ariadne takes one look at the man and knows that Felix is going to string the poor boy along for months without even realizing it. Or, maybe he did. Ariadne doesn't care. She doesn't care much about anything these days, and when she does, she takes another hit, another shot, another something until the world fades again.

When she's sober and has no homework, she remembers to care about Farleigh, so she makes sure those two states never occur at the same time.

Against her will, she notes the way Farleigh's jaw tightens when Oliver Whatshisface approaches the table. This must be Oliver "Thus" Quick from his tutoring sessions.

Ariadne snorts as Farleigh shifts in discomfort and sinks back again as the conversation turns to who Ollie is, what college he's in, and other shit she wouldn't even care about sober.

Her attention tunes back in when the shot chant begins.

"Jagerbombs!" She and Farleigh demand at the same time. She shoots him a look of annoyance.

Farleigh makes a low rumble in his throat that only she knows to watch for. "It's your round, man!"

"I should go to bed," Oliver mumbles, suddenly green.

Farleigh shakes his head and curls entrancingly, so much so that she almost forgets to pay attention to what he's saying. "No, no, no, no. You can't snake out of your round."

Oliver squirms in his seat. Something about him is offputting, now that Ariadne's finished her blunt and is coming down from the high. "I'm not," the boy mutters.

"It looks like you are." Farleigh laughs, but Ariadne knows he's not joking. She knows that the alarm bells in her head are going off in his, and even more so, she senses his competitive streak flaring up.

The table boos except Felix, who seems to sense Oliver's unease. Ariadne rolls her eyes. Ever the angel, their Felix.

He's going to get himself killed that way. It's unnatural to Ariadne that anyone could be as trusting as he is.

"Okay, okay." Oliver concedes. Maybe Ariadne's imagining the way he seems to sneer at Farleigh as he gets up.

Oliver manages to get to his feet and heads for the bar, and Ariadne's final assessment begins to click into place. This kid was a gold-digging little weasel, but probably too weak to do any real damage, except for Farleigh, who seemed to be pissed off by the dude's very existence.

"Farleigh," Felix scolds.

"What?" Farleigh fakes innocently. She sees the way his round eyes widen and his lips open just enough that even India's head falls onto her palm in adoration. There's no denying that Farleigh is pretty.

"Just cut him a break, mate." Felix pleads.

It's not going to work. Whenever Felix asked any of them to be nice to his strays, they always got meaner. Her and Venetia included.

For example, poor old Eddie last year.

"What?" Farleigh repeats lower.

He'd never liked receiving orders from the Cattons. When they were younger, she might have soothed him back down, but it was no use now. She couldn't even if she wanted to.

The crack had become a canyon, just like her dad had foretold.

"That round's gonna cost a fucking fortune." Felix continues.

"Pub rules, Felix." Farleigh grins.

Silently, she agrees, but she decides she can't be here anymore. Farleigh's pretty, white and fox-like smile, had very suddenly become too much for her.

"I'm off." She declares suddenly, sitting up. The group groans and complains good-naturedly, and she watches Farleigh stare at her with an intensity she had grown used to.

She sits in her car for twenty minutes, smoking a cigarette and trying to pretend every time she's with Farleigh she can't feel him in her skin when she hears a tap-tap-tapping on her passenger window.

The man himself, grinning his evil grin.

She can't help herself. She unlocks the car.

"There you are, pet! I looked out the window and I saw you hadn't even driven away! How weird is that, hm?" He teases in that tone which he only takes with people he can't stand. She'd never imagined she'd be on the receiving end of it.

She takes another long drag of her cigarette. "You used to hate when they called me that. You almost broke Felix's nose over it."

"Pass." Farleigh demands. She hands him the cigarette and he puffs it gently. "You gave a shit about me then too. Venetia called me a dog and you fucking bit her. At fourteen."

"I was a weird fucking kid," Ariadne mumbles.

"What the hell happened to us?" Farleigh asks. His long fingers twist a ring, which she deciphers as nerves. She hates that she knows that. Because she wonders, if they aren't friends, and they aren't lovers, why does she know him better than she knows herself? Why does she think about the little things he's done since they were children and worry about his health? Why does she make sure with a glance that he's eating well?

What the hell happened, indeed.

Ariadne knows exactly what happened to them. She had a crush on someone incapable of loving her back and took the lowest of all low roads in her envy. She doesn't say that. She just shrugs. "I dunno, Far. I really don't."

Farleigh leans across the console, palm resting on her cheek, and kisses her.

For a moment, Ariadne sinks deep into the feeling. How many years had she craved his affection? How many times had she let him ruin her life just for a chance of this? His soft, plush lips on hers, their foreheads pressed against each other, his hot, warm tongue twirling with hers. It felt beautiful and religious and, above all else, right. Just fucking right. Like this was how it ought to have been all along.

But then she realizes that this isn't what she was waiting for. She pulls away, gasping.

"My dorm or yours?" Farleigh asks breathlessly.

Ariadne wants to cry. She doesn't want this. She wants him, but she wants all of him, not a night like he gave everyone else.

She shakes her head. "I can't. I can't, I-"

She scrambles for anything to say that isn't "I like you, and I've had a crush on you since we were seven."

"You can't cheat on Alicia." She settles on instead.

"I don't give a fuck about Alicia!" He huffs.

Ariadne sobs. "I know! I know and that's the problem, Far. You used to be so sweet. You used to love everyone and you would never hurt someone's feelings without a reason and I don't even recognize you anymore!"

Farleigh stares at her. "Is that why you stopped talking to me? Because I'm too mean, because newsflash, princess, you're not exactly all sunshine anymore either."

"I stopped talking to you because of Arabella Vaillancourt." She whispers before she can stop herself. Why would she say that? He's going to know exactly how immature and obsessed she is and-

Farleigh scrunches his nose. "Who?"

Ariadne bangs her head against her steering wheel. "You don't even remember. You shattered my worldview and it was so insignificant you don't even remember."

"I-"

"Get out of my car, Farleigh," she begs. She wishes it had venom in it. She wishes she had yelled or something. Instead, all there is left is exhaustion and heartbreak.

He doesn't argue, and that hurts even worse.

She doesn't speak to him again until graduation. Steals glances at him sometimes, after he breaks things off with Alicia, and shares twin looks of annoyance every time Oliver does something irrevocably stupid, but never words.

She misses it. Even arguing with him had been better than not having him at all.

Until, suddenly, on the last day of term as she packs her things, Farleigh bursts through her door.

"Felix invited Oliver to Saltburn." He says like he's announcing a death.

Ariadne groans. "You've got to be fucking kidding me, Start."

"He's worse than Eddie from last year," Farleigh complains, throwing himself on her bed like they're fourteen again.

Ariadne nods. "Like, times ten. Am I the only one who can tell that this kid is fucking insane?" She whines.

"No," Farleigh hums competitively. "I know it too."

"Shut up, this isn't about you," Ariadne commands.

Farleigh holds his hands up in the air in surrender before he gets distracted by her bookshelf.

"Is this that old copy of Pride and Prejudice I got you?" He asks.

Ariadne shrugs. "Yeah. I wasn't going to get rid of a perfectly good novel just because I was mad at you."

"Was?" Farleigh grins.

Ariadne sighs. "Am." She amends. "You are a mistake and a scourge on the earth."

"And," he licks his lips, "The first friend you ever had."

She doesn't dignify that with a response and sets about finishing packing her clothes.

"Do you ever miss Bel-Air?" He asks suddenly.

Ariadne closes her eyes and can almost smell the sea salt of Malibu Beach. Remember the small staff of her home rather than the expansive staff at Saltburn.

She also remembers her and Farleigh's mothers at the mini-bar drinking themselves into oblivion and her father yelling at her to be perfect and finds she even misses that too.

"Every day. You?"

"Yeah," Farleigh says, suddenly sounding very small.

He perks back up. "Arabella Vaillancourt was the girl I lost my virginity to at prep school," he declares proudly.

Ariadne bites back a smile. "Good. Now prove to me you've changed since then."

Farleigh practically skips out of her room.

Later that day comes the six-hour night drive back up to Lowick from school. Ariadne cherishes the drive. It's the only time she spends with the Cattons now when all of them are sober.

Venetia stretches her arms, as catlike as ever. "So, what're we going to do about the O-word?"

"Orgasm?" Ariadne guesses.

Venetia smirks. "Maybe for Felix, but I meant Oliver."

"Dad didn't get you the flat in town so you could be a bloody spy, y'know." Felix huffs.

Venetia pats his cheek. "But he never said it wasn't."

"I don't want to fuck him," Felix says sternly.

Venetia raises an eyebrow. "Then why the fuck did you invite him?"

Ariadne sighs. "I wish I fucking knew, Vee."

"Ari and I agree; the dude's a fucking creep," Farleigh says.

"I swear to god I saw him watching me change. And did you know he almost fucked Annabelle but he kept bringing you up and that's why she stopped hanging around?" Ariadne complains.

"Wait, what was that?" Farleigh raises a hand.

Ariadne doubles back. "He tried to fuck Annabelle. Little weasel-freak."

"I think he meant the part about Ollie watching you change, Pet, which I don't believe. He's gone through a lot. Did you know his dad died last week, right before exams?" Felix sighs sadly.

Ariadne rolls her eyes. "He's such a little snake I wouldn't be shocked if that was a lie. And I'm not kidding, I straight up saw him outside my bedroom window just staring at me."

"God, he deserves a good fuckin' punch, maybe it'll set him straight," Farleigh mutters. He's seething, and for once, Ariadne can't even tell why.

"Well, clearly not straight if he's hanging off Fi like you guys say," Venetia snickers.

They all laugh - even Felix- and the topic shifts to god-knows-what.

Ariadne scoots closer to Farleigh in the backseat, feeling like she did that first summer on this road.

On the first day at Saltburn, while they await Oliver-the-Golddigger's arrival, Ariadne holes herself up in her room to avoid running across the Weasel.

Ariadne only ever reads Pride and Prejudice at Saltburn. It is her yearly reminder that love is fickle and takes time and sometimes cannot be seized at all.

On her eighteenth birthday, she had gone with Vee to get the words "from admiration to love; from love to matrimony," along her wrist. Once, she had told Felix that the only people who understood her were him and Elizabeth Bennett.

A knock at her door has her scrambling up. "Dinner's in an hour."

She's shocked Farleigh came for her instead of Vee or Felix.

Farleigh leans against her doorway, already in his slacks and button-down, though his bowtie is disastrously loose.

"How'd you know to get me?" She hums, opening her closet.

Farleigh shrugs. "You always read when we're here. Figured you might lose track of time."

Sometimes she thinks that he must observe her as much as she does him.

"Is this a part of me telling you to show me you've grown?" She asks, pulling her tee-shirt off to slip on the black, floor-length dress for dinner.

Farleigh whistles lowly. "Maybe. Or maybe I thought it was unfair that Oliver saw you naked before me."

"You jealous bitch." She snarks. "Zip me?"

He strides across the room towards her - it doesn't take long, because he's always been much taller than everyone except Felix - and slowly zips her dress up. His fingers barely ghost over her skin and her whole body shudders.

"You look good, Gavin." He mutters.

She turns and fixes his bowtie. "Back at ya, Start. Y'know, you'd be gorgeous if you could keep your mouth shut."

"How will I lick Uncle James' boot, then?" He hums sarcastically.

She kisses his cheek. "You're improving, you should know." She pats his chest.

She walks past, but she knows he pumps his fist in the air from the sound of his clothes rustling.

Loveable damn idiot.

Dinner is an absolute bore. Elspeth gushes over Oliver, Poor Dear Pamela retells her sob story, and Venetia takes two bites of her dinner. Oliver is wearing one of Felix's suits. she can tell, the arms are too long, and the cufflinks are some old ones he had gotten for his sixteenth birthday.

She says nothing but shares a long glance with Farleigh. He rolls his eyes and she snickers.

Farleigh follows her up to her room. She was expecting it, to be fair.

He undoes his tie and throws it across the room before releasing the top few buttons of his shirt.

"Zipper." She reminds him. His lithe fingers are skimming her waist and her back, all the way up to the top of the zipper, and then back down again.

She throws on a tee shirt. "Go grab some house clothes from your room." She huffs. "Your hair has been bothering me since Oxford 'cause you've been doing it alone, I've got to do something about it."

He exits and returns in a tee shirt of his own and a pair of Fila sweatpants.

Ariadne missed this more than anything. The feeling of churning her fingers through his scalp. The way he simply relaxed into her palms. She loves it. She loves him.

Oh. Oh fuck. She loves him. She doesn't just like him, or have a crush, or want to fuck him out of her system, as she had been insisting since she was a kid. She loves him.

She breathes deeply, finishes his hair, and wraps it up in his durag. "When your curls pop back tomorrow, you'd better thank me."

He snorts. "Yeah, sure. Night, Ari."

"Night, Far." She watches him close the door to his room across the hall and scrambles over to Venetia's, swinging the door open.

Venetia is on the bed, painting her nails. "What?"

"I'm in love with Farleigh," Ariadne whispers, still shocked.

"Sorry," Venetia said automatically.

Ariadne slows her breathing to be heard. "I'm-"

"No, I heard you." Venetia interrupts. "I just think it's unfortunate."

Ariadne lays down beside Venetia and allows the girl to pet her hair. "What am I going to do?"

"Seduce him," Venetia says simply, petting and swirling a curl off Ariadne's head.

Ariadne groans, rolling away. "It's not that simple and you know it! I don't just want to fuck him, if I did I would have said so."

"So what, you want to marry him? Because I'll tell you now that's a bad idea." Venetia hums.

"No! Well, maybe? I don't know!" Ariadne whines

Venetia pins Ariadne to the bed. "Do not do anything stupid until you've decided what you want from him. I mean it, Pet."

Ariadne shrugs her off. "I'm not going to hurt him." She mumbles.

Venetia giggles. "Wasn't him I was worried about, Newmo."

Ariadne climbs off the bed, flipping off Venetia. "I'm going to sleep. Night, Vee."

"G'night Pet!" Venetia grins.

When the morning rolls around, Ariadne stretches out of bed at first light, throwing on a pair of house shorts and a cropped tank top. She would never have the old money urge to waste her nice silken robes on a simple breakfast at Saltburn.

She waves hello to Miss Portia, the maid, as she makes her way down.

"Morn' Liam, Joshie." She grins.

The two footmen wave to her. "Good Morning, Miss Ariadne."

Liam clears his throat. "Your boyfriend's already at breakfast."

"Oh fuck off, you nosy little-" Ariadne starts, but silences before Felix can pass them.

"Enjoy Breakfast, Ma'am," Liam grins.

Ariadne scrunches her nose and blows a raspberry at him before she makes her way to the table.

Farleigh's curls look decidedly better, she notices smugly, and she knows he's aware. He's already holding a cup of coffee and is probably the only one in the house who takes coffee instead of tea beside her.

"G'morning, guys." She hums. Everyone gives her similarly apathetic greetings. Felix looks like he fell out of bed.

She's halfway through her scrambled eggs when Oliver makes his way down the stairs. "Morning."

She waves, zoning out. Weasel.

"You sleep well, mate?" Felix asks, leaning a little over the table to look at Oliver closely. From an angle where she knows at least Farleigh and Felix can see her, she pokes her cheek with her tongue and pokes her finger in the air, mimicking a blowjob. Farleigh snorts so hard that coffee almost shoots out of his nose.

"Uh, yeah," Oliver mumbles. He's so mumble-y. It's grating.

"Hey, Oliver, have some breakfast." Felix coaxes.

Ariadne looks at Farleigh and rolls her eyes hard. She watches him smirk and feels a flutter of pride at the effect.

Duncan places Felix's boiled eggs on the side of his breakfast platter and retreats quickly.

Ariadne raises a hand and awkwardly points to her coffee cup, and a maid - Amelia, she thinks, the nice ginger one - pours her a new cup and then places the appropriate amount of creamer in it.

Ariadne silently mouths thank you and shakes her hands in a prayer-like stance. Amelia blushes and disappears from the room as if she were never there at all.

"Can I have a full English breakfast too, please?" Oliver asks quietly.

Ariadne looks at the table housing the food, and then to Farleigh, and then at Oliver the Weasel, and then to Farleigh again. She watches his eyes follow the same path and dip down to the magazine in his lap to keep from laughing again.

"Breakfast is on the side, darling," Elspeth says helpfully. "Just help yourself."

"How would you like your eggs?" Duncan asks, returning.

"It’s fine. I can get them." Oliver stammers. She rolls her eyes. Didn't he just see Felix's eggs delivered onto the plate?

"Not the eggs. The eggs are made for you." Farleigh corrects.

Felix gives him a sharp look, but in Farleigh's defence, he wasn't even being mean that time.

"Exactly. And everything else is on the side." Auntie Elspeth finishes.

"Fried over easy, please," Oliver says queasily.

"Ollie, we were just talking about the Shelley biography." Felix interjects, sweeping in to rescue the weasel.

Ariadne was sure they were, but she surely wasn't paying the conversation much mind. Until Oliver's arrival, she had been at peace, shockingly enough.

"Shelley who? Shelley, Belinda’s sister Shelley?" Poor, dear, idiot Pamela asks. Ariadne looks at Oliver. Pamela was Oliver's best future. A leech and an idiot who couldn't help but overstay their welcome.

"Oh, Percy Bysshe Shelley. The poet. The Romantic poet." Sir James explains as though speaking to a child.

"Oh." Pamela says simply because she is simple.

"Do you know the story about Shelley’s doppelgänger?" Venetia hums, hidden eagerness just below the surface of her tone.

Ariadne rolls her eyes. She couldn't count the amount of times Venetia had brought this up since she'd learned it.

Sir James, clearly sensing his daughter's nefarious tone, looks at her warily. "His doppelgänger?"

"Mmm. Shelley’s housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy. And she was on the top floor of the house." Venetia had always had the perfect voice for telling a scary story.

"Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won’t sleep." Felix balls up his fists and covers his ears.

Felix had always been a bit of a wimp, though Ariadne meant it in only the most loving of ways. Over countless summers they had held bonfires and told scary stories, and without fail, every time they did, All of them had to sleep in Felix's room because he was too scared to go to sleep. Ariadne is never annoyed by it though. It's a reminder of how sweet and pure their dear Felix is.

It was a stark contrast to Venetia, their resident investor in the macabre and overall gloomy and grotesque.

"A few hours later," Venetia continued, undeterred, "he drowned."

"Oh! Oh, that’s just given me goosebumps. Look, Pamela." Elspeth says dramatically.

"Oh, no." Pamela sighs in the same dull tone she says everything else.

"Look, Fi, the only important thing about Shelley was that he was married to the mother of science fiction." Ariadne comforts.

"I heard he fucked his sister, so there's that too," Farleigh adds helpfully.

Ariadne snorts, and so does Venetia.

"Oh, for God’s sake!" Sir James chides.

The weasel pokes his evil little head up. "I think that was Byron."

"Fucking English majors." She mouths to Farleigh. He gives a slight smile and nods.

Pamela and Elspeth talk nonsense about people Ariadne doesn't care about, so she reaches over the table, snatches Felix's apple from his plate, and bites in.

"What the hell, pet?" Felix whines.

Ariadne rolls her eyes. "You don't even like apples that much!"

Duncan delivers the eggs to Oliver's plate. "Thank you so much," he says, big blue eyes darting around like a frightened animal. then, the eyes peer down, and Oliver grimaces at the eggs.

"Is everything okay, Ollie?" Felix asks, that sweet, tentative sound in his voice that, when directed at the right person, could make you spill your deepest secrets and greatest fears.

The way he calls him Ollie, the way the Cattons always take to nicknames for their pets, makes her jaw tick. It's such an odd but effective way to claim possession over someone, and it didn't even occur to them that they were doing it.

"Er, ‘course, yeah. It’s just. Runny eggs. I get a bit sick from them."

Ariadne can't resist the urge. she whistles, quietly. Duncan is going to be pissed. The Cattons, especially Elspeth, will be horrendously embarrassed. The whole kitchen staff will have their asses handed to them.

"Sorry." He says as Duncan clears his plate of eggs, and again when Duncan leaves for more.

Farleigh smirks into his magazine. "Well, I'm goin' up to my room." He declares.

Venetia nods. "I'd like to head back to sleep an hour more."

Ariadne snorts. "I'm sure you can show Oliver to the pool by yourself, right Fi?" She grins wickedly, making a good show of yawning.

Farleigh waits in the doorway for her, and she flicks him in the chest as she passed him. He sets to follow her, undeterred. "Later, losers." She hums as she swings out.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

No but you’re so right about not wanting to watch season 8 because after how they handled the doppelgänger storyline I don’t want to watch it, with the rumours Gavin isn’t coming back and how this show has handled estranged parents storylines in the past I just have zero faith they’re going to do Eddie any justice especially after they sent him back to before the show levels of development, practically erasing everything we’ve seen him work on from seasons 2-6, like I can just picture the Diaz parents redemption and Eddie thanking them for taking Chris and ignoring everything a little like they did with the Buckleys

And something something this show hates happy queer parents, I don’t know how to really articulate this but like even if they do a gay Eddie storyline now, it’s not sitting right with me that it’s only happening now Chris is gone, like I know Eddie filters life through Chris/doesn’t really know who he is without the parent role etc etc I know that but with the way they treat Henren on the show and the way they treat Denny and Mara’s storylines, it almost seems like they weren’t going to let Eddie figure himself out while also actively parenting—it’s giving the straight grandparents need to save Chris from his gay dad (like they wanted to all along) i don’t know if I’m getting my point across well but it’s giving a “if you’re queer and a parent you will not be happy on this show your kid/s will get taken away from you”

👏👏👏

this. i understand the argument that eddie needs a chance to examine things without looking throughthe Chris lense, but it feels like he absolutely 100% could have had the realization because of Chris. like it would have taken chris saying he views buck as his dad one time and eddie would have spiralled and everything would have begun to fall into place— i get gavin having conflicts due to his move and possibly having to leave the show but there were so many other ways to essentially write him off (yes ik nothing is confirmed and that he very well could come back in a much slimmed down onscreen role such as may/harry) but it feels like they just went “eh… eddie started to reconcile with his dad…. let’s just send chris away even though eddie realistically would not have built up that much trust in this short amount of time (especially w helena)

and i 1000% agree w it mimicking the henren trauma bc why are we targeting the black lesbians with the same storyline we already saw with Nia…. why are we now lumping eddie into the traumatized poc paranoid losing their kid trope? especially if they plan to make him queer?

like i fully understand this show is a drama, but i miss when it was a DRAMA and not a SOAP OPERA… like earlier seasons had their fair amount of dramatic shit going on but this is just ridiculous and some of it feels farcical to me at this point… especially with the handling of buck’s bisexuality where his coming out scene to maddie included a joke about “always checking out a hot guy’s ass” once again reducing his character down to sex even though Buck has grown past that… idk it just rubs me the wrong way that we’re either sex-hungry, sassy, traumatized, or all three in one and it doesn’t sit right with me.

also them actively chosing to make a known problematic character queer just to serve as a plot device for a sexuality arc that didn’t even live up to any potential bc they kissed once, went on a coffe date and bam they’re suddenly together? even for a straight couple that’s such an anticlimactic relationship buildup let alone a queer one… and not only that but using his queerness as an excuse for his racism and misogynistic behavior as a way to sweep it under the rug is so icky to me… like why is the only decently treated canonically queer character Josh??? (even though even he was part of that whole hate crime plot!)

it’s so hard as a queer person to watch other queer people be told by straight people that they should settle for what we have… and that those queer people listen and also somehow think that settling is all we can do. i know it’s easy to settle for shit, but i’m sorry i did not spend six years watching these two build something beautiful to see it thrown away because what they gave us is (not even) “good enough.”

it really is disheartening.

anyway sorry for turning this into another rant post, anon, i just liked your added point of the traumatized queer parent thing and wanted to expand on that some more!

[drdemonprince]

I read Anna Biller's (director, writer, set designer, and basically everything-er of The Love Witch) new novel Bluebeard's Castle. And I really found it to be quite the addictive and enchanting read, though all of the criticisms of the book that you'll see on Goodreads and Amazon are completely legitimate.

The book very much does read like a screenplay -- there are long descriptions of interior design and costumes, sometimes positioned in the middle of a scene in ways that break up the emotional momentum, to a hilarious effect. For example, in one sequence the protagonist is considering a gruesome vision of suicide, and then looks in the mirror to admire her hobble skirt and reflect that she's looking very sexy.

Some of The Love Witch's less charitable viewers didn't understand the way Biller's work sweeps from the grand and romantic to the self-involved and frivolous, but it's clearly intentional, and it works on the page for me just as well as it did on the screen. You just have to have the irreverent, glamorous toxic girl sensibility for it. If you love the way Lana Del Rey mixes the high and low brows, the tragic with the prosaic, you'll lap it up here too.

In some cases, Biller's descriptions do feel like placeholders, or are so generically written that it would make perfect sense in a script (because there is an entire team working on the film that can bring a "sexy" dress or a "lovely" piece of furniture to life), but which falls flat here. Because I know Biller's aesthetic style so well, when she tells me that room is sumptuous or well-appointed, I can picture precisely what she means, and most of the time she is so specific with her descriptions of outfits and accessories that you can easily conjure what she's going for. At some random moments, though, things are underwritten and demand that you as the reader fill in the details she normally provides.

Bluebeard's Castle is the story of a contemporary romance novelist and converted Catholic virgin, Judith, who falls under the seductive spell of an aloof, gruff, emotionally volatile Baron's-son, Gavin, who sweeps her off her feet following a fated encounter at a wedding. After a whirlwind romance and a hasty wedding, Biller's protagonist moves into a remodeled castle with her brooding lover, and the cracks in his shining armor begin to show. The charm of the love interest is something of an informed attribute; you have to believe the narrator that he is handsome and dracula-like (or believe that she believes it) in order to allow the story to move along. Since this is a tragedy rather than a romance novel, I think that buy-in is relatively easy to provide. The sex scenes are largely left to the margins as well; this book isn't meant to titilate but rather pull you into Judith's rich, sad, delusional inner world.

Some of the most positive reviews of Bluebeard's Castle describe this as a novel about how and why women find themselves entrapped within abusive relationships. As someone who has been in abusive relationships, I think this truly is where Biller's writing excels -- and she truly gets what it's like to become romantically and sexually addicted to someone who is bad for you to a degree that is almost embarrassing to see oneself reflected in. She truly gets it -- the way you excuse small violations, blot out any consideration of your own consent, justify unexpected outbursts from your partner and then take steps to prevent them, the way you must romanticize every single tender moment, rewrite the gradual conditioning of your own behavior as yourself becoming a canny, subtle manipulator of the situation, and color in between the lines of a truly unfulfilling existence with grand narratives and self-serving lies.

It's not a pretty portrait -- Bluebeard's Judith has a fanciful, inconsistent mind, constantly swapping between admitting to herself that her husband has mistreated her, and seeking refuge in religion, fantasy, alcohol, sex, and self-negation in order to convince herself that such abuses did not really happen, or don't really matter. She also uses other people -- leaning on her sister and a former romantic interest, the respectful, reliable doctor Tony -- extracting as much attention and support from them as she possibly can when she and Gavin are in a rough patch, then abandoning them entirely the moment he returns to her. I think a reader who hasn't been in an extended abusive relationship will probably find Judith infuriating and unsympathetic. But as someone who has done and been all of these things, I feel incredibly exposed by Biller's narrative, in a bracing way. It's like a shot of cold water to the face.

Many people will justifiably write this book off as melodramatic and arch, but I think it perfectly nails the alluring drama of being wrapped up within a terrible relationship dynamic. When you're being abused and you deeply love your abuser, you are absolutely fascinated by their unpredictable emotions and your own love -- you think constantly about how you might elicit the treatment from them that your heart longs for, you're reading into their every gesture and expression all the time, and you're inventing satisfying explanations for your situation in your head all the time. It's an isolated, deluded life, but it's pleasurably intense too sometimes, and those of us who fall prey to it often have some deeper longing for connection and passion that makes us easier to prey on. Biller really understands that.

If you adored The Love Witch, you'll probably have a lot of patience for this book's flaws and feel appropriately targeted by its strengths. Sad girls, Virgin Suicides fans, BPD baddies, Jane Eyre lovers, grown up former Twilight readers, and all kinds of other pitiful glamorous freaks will enjoy it.