#or any secrets/clues you've picked up on

[muzzlemouths]

I have read all there is of dftr and I think I might just go in for another round. I love picking up on hints or clues with knowledge of the future on a second pass, and dftr is chock full of em.

Also just wanted to thank you for this gem, it's inspired me to get back into my own DCA fic which is similarly themed in that the boys get a little silly with an axe :))

Ooohh this is so exciting for me. I LOVE stuffing hints, foreshadowing, and red herrings into every nook and cranny I can find in hopes that someone will come along and sniff them out. Definitely one of my favorite parts of writing any story.

I'm elated to hear that you're enjoying the fic so much, and twice as happy to hear that it's inspired you to get back to your own fics! :D there is no greater compliment to me than knowing that my work inspired others.

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

[dollfacefantasy]

SO, KISS ME ♡

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: to celebrate six months of being together, you and logan head off to a secret spot. and it wouldn't be a celebration without a few drinks, right?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, light dubcon, intox kink, alcohol + intoxication

kinktober slot: day 2 - intox kink

Being the guidance counselor at Charles Xavier's school, you take your work seriously. You dedicate all that you have to the students. Helping them blossom into healthy, well-adjusted adults means everything to you in both a professional and personal sense. But because of your fierce ambition, you never really get the chance to let loose. Your nights consist of reviewing your cases. When you do have free time during the evening, you often spend it alone or with your boyfriend, just relaxing.

Tonight is different though.

It's your six month anniversary with Logan - which he makes sure to remind you multiple times, is not a real anniversary since it's not annual. But regardless, he indulges your desire to celebrate.

Holding hands, he walks you through the overgrown grass down to the neglected boat house that stands a few hundred yards South of the school's main building. The buttery blades of the field brush against your knees as your steps trail his larger strides. He glances back at you every now and again, a subtle way of making sure you aren't having any trouble.

The path the two of you take winds down to the old wooden structure. A collection of trees secludes it and the dock coming off of it. He leads you up the creaky steps and through the small musty corridor, smirking at your complaints about the possibility of bugs or other small creatures.

At the end of this trip, you finally reach the destination he wanted to take you. The small area that comes off the boat house and sits a few feet above the moderate-sized lake on this corner of the estate.

"Wow, this is kinda pretty," you say, peering around at the secret spot he'd found for the two of you.

"Kinda? That's all you'll give me?" he teases.

He pulls you the few remaining paces to the edge of the pine slats. You smile up at him, tucking yourself underneath his muscular arm as the two of you overlook the turquoise water.

"Ok, ok. It's super pretty. I never thought you'd be the type to do something so romantic," you correct.

"Yeah, well... I can be when I want to. And for you... I guess you're worth it," he says, keeping a cocky look on his face. He could never have you taking his words too seriously. Couldn't clue you in to the depth of what he feels for you in the short span of time you've officially been his.

He sits down first, and you follow in suit. His legs dangle, hanging inches above the murky liquid. Yours stay tucked up on the wood, crossed over one another. You take a few more moments to enjoy the scenery around you. It's nice and quiet out here. Pretty and green. Maybe it would feel creepy if not for Logan, but his presence prevents any eerie feelings from tainting your fun.

The hand that hadn't been used to guide you down here holds a six pack of Logan's beverage of choice. He sets the perspiring cans next to his thigh and hooks his elbow over your shoulders, pulling you close to his side again. His lips land against your temple, silent affection you'd grown accustomed to from him.

You tilt your head upward to brush your nose against him and look into the pair of eyes you found yourself getting lost in more and more often these days.

"You could've picked a more romantic drink though," you joke.

He scoffs playfully. "I'm celebrating too, aren't I?" he says.

Reaching over, he pulls one of the cans from the plastic wrapped around the top. He watches how your eyes follow his hand.

"You want one?" he asks.

You glance up at him and nod. Sure, you didn't care for the taste of beer. You weren't too fond of alcohol in general. But tonight was a special occasion. You figured it wouldn't hurt. It'd probably be fun trying out a new change of pace.

He rolls his eyes and frees another can from the pack, sliding it into your hands.

"All that complaining, but you're still gonna drink anyways," he mocks.

"Shut up," you say and give his arm a little shove.

The lid spurts as you pop it open. You bring the container to your lips and take a drink, scrunching your nose at the flavor. He grins at your exaggerated show of displeasure.

"No one's forcing you," he chuckles.

"I know," you say after swallowing.

You scoot a little closer to him and lean against his side. He doesn't need anymore words to understand what you're trying to communicate.

The two of you drink and talk for an amount of time that fades into irrelevancy in favor of enjoying each other. You sip your drink while he pops open another. The once-serene quiet of the lake becomes filled with the sounds of your combined voices and laughter. You swap stories in between lazy kisses, vent about nagging problems of your lives now as your hands roam each other's bodies.

You end up finishing two drinks. Your head is spinning by the time the second can leaves your fingers. He can see from the look on your face how you're feeling. Even if he didn't have his advanced olfactory, he would be able to smell the smooth scent oozing off of you.

After laughing a little too hard at a joke that wasn't that funny, you go for another one. He grabs your wrist and then cups your jaw, tilting your head upward so that your glassy eyes are on him.

"Think you've had enough, baby," he smirks.

You give him a goofy smile and shake your head. "Have not."

"Hmmm, I think you have. You're a total lightweight," he teases. His arm snakes around your back and scoops you up, pulling you to sit on his lap.

You don't protest the adjustment and instead snuggle into his chest.

"But today's special," you pout.

"That's true, but tomorrow isn't. And you're not gonna feel very special if you give yourself a killer headache."

You scoff despite the truth of that statement.

"You're no fun," you say and flick at his face.

He swats your hand away gently and shifts you on his thighs to make sure you're supported and won't go toppling into the water below. You still try to reach for another drink, but he stops you again.

"That last one's for me," he says. He knows that won't be enough to sate you though, so he tries an offer, "If you really want some more, I'll give you a sip of mine. Deal?"

You pause like you're thinking about it. In truth, that's just the delay needed for the words to register in your mind.

"Deal," you agree and smack a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

He smiles, and the two of you stay like that for a while. You continue talking, but it's a bit closer to rambling now. He doesn't mind though. The sound of your voice in either form is always enough to entertain him.

Every so often, you pull at his thick forearm, indicating you want a little gulp. Most of the time, he obliges you, raising the drink to your mouth and letting you have some.

He's not sure what it is about seeing you like this that gets his blood pumping, but sure enough, after watching your eyes flutter and your mouth swallow a few times, he feels the familiar sensation of heat pooling in his gut. Like a slow whirlpool, it lingers, teasing the idea of sinking.

His fingertips glide along your jawline as you drink, keeping your head at a suitable angle. He notices how glossy your eyes have become - similar to that of a doll's. When you pull back after a few moments, your lips shine with traces of beer. His dick throbs at the way your lids droop slightly when you give him a big, sweet smile.

"Why're you staring at me?" you ask playfully.

"I'm not... Now I know you've had too much - you're seeing things," he says, voice lowering as he leans in to kiss at your neck.

You hiccup a small laugh and shake your head. "I am not," you respond.

He smiles against your skin, but his lips don't deviate from their task. They continue moving along your neck, laying hot pecks along the column of your throat. The wet sensation makes you squirm a bit, soft whimpers spilling from your lips. He can feel his cock filling out in response.

Pulling back a little, he glances at your face. His own eyes are becoming a bit hooded by lust now. He brings the can back to your mouth.

"Take another drink for me, honey," he directs, "Want you to finish it off."

"Mkay," you hum and accept the liquid being poured into your mouth.

His eyes fixate on you as you swallow it down. He can hear the small clicks of your throat with each mouthful you take. His thumb rises to the corner of your mouth to swipe away the bit of excess that drips from there.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Nice and slow."

The low and smooth cadence of his voice brings a shudder up your spine. You keep accepting the liquid down your throat until no more oozes from the can at your lips. He pulls it away and looks into your eyes.

"Such a good girl for me," he says in that same tone, "Did you like that?"

You nod, a small, helpless giggle trickling from your lips. It's involuntary, a natural reaction to the man holding you right now when you can't think to stifle it. You lean back into the warmth of his chest. Your thighs press against one another and rub, trying to create some friction for the blooming ache between your legs.

He feels the subtle movements, the little back and forths on his lap. One of his palms lands on your leg. His fingers grip the squishy flesh, adding to the heat at your center.

"What're you doing, sweetheart?" he asks teasingly.

"Nothing," you say with a little smile.

"It doesn't feel like nothing to me," he says, digging his digits into you with a slight increase in pressure.

Your breath hitches, and your legs spread apart a few inches out of instinct. You craved his touch a few inches upward, ached for him to ease the tingling that resided at your center. He grins when he sees how your limbs move for him.

"You feeling a little restless, baby?" he breathes. His hands slide up to the hem of your shorts, teasing the fabric that rests against your leg. "You're getting all squirmy. Think the beer is making you feel funny, huh?"

"Little bit," you agree with a lazy nod. Your hand grabs his and drags it up to slot it against your covered pussy. You gently rock your hips to signal what you want.

He laughs at your bold display, letting you hump his palm but not doing anything to add to your pleasure yet.

"That's where you need attention?" he teases.

"Yeah," you whimper. You try to buck your hips more, but it's hard to get real stimulation with how he has you situated on his lap.

His smirk doesn't let up as he watches your desperation.

"Tell me what you want. Exactly what you want."

"You," you whine, "Need you to touch me. Rub my pussy. Gimme your cock. Allll of it."

His eyes blaze with desire at your words. Under usual circumstances, that took much longer to coax out of you. He'd have to really work you up to being so explicit about what you needed. But with the liquid courage in your veins, it all came much easier.

He rewards you by sliding his hand up and then tucking it beneath the waistband of your bottoms. His fingers venture down, cupping the expanse of your cunt before parting your lips and gently swirling his fingertip around your poor little clit.

A sharp whimper comes from you. Your legs writhe with delight while the rest of your body melts back into his.

"Those drinks just washed all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, didn't they?" he whispers, "Drained all that need down here. Now the only thing you're thinking about is getting this little pussy filled up."

You bite your lip. Heat floods your cheeks. But you still nod.

"Mhm. I can see it all over your face. Poor thing," he mocks.

He boosts you closer on his lap as his fingers continue to tease and flick at your sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingertips are rough, blunt contrast to the velvet softness of your folds. They swipe through your arousal. He gets you to whine a few more times before they coast down and poke into your entrance.

You mewl and arch your back. It was just the two of you, so you took no care to be quiet or subtle.

One slides in first and then a second. They're just fingers, but they're so fucking thick and lengthy. The stretch feels like the perfect warm up to what you really want.

He pumps them back and forth a few times. Your walls clench around him with each motion. He doesn't go too fast just yet.

Your head still spins from the booze, but the feeling is amplified with the waves of ecstasy washing over you. His hand that isn't knuckle-deep in your cunt holds you upright, occasionally groping your breast to give that extra burst of heat.

His cock hardens to the point of pain beneath your ass. He can't help it with how enticing you look, whimpering and fidgeting in his lap like this, completely lost in the pleasure he's providing.

"So sweet for me. So easy to get you all wound up," he murmurs. He grinds the heel of his palm over your clit, pulling more erotic noises from your throat.

"L-Logan. Need more," you stammer.

"You do? Already?" he teases.

A petulant whine erupts from you as your feet kick with desire.

"Pleaseeeee," you pout, "Need it in me. Need your big, fuckin' cock in me."

He chuckles against the side of your head. The words sound like your attempt at imitating dialogue from a porno.

"Yeah? Need me to ruin that tight little pussy?" he responds, mimicking the same style of speech.

Ordinarily, you probably would've laughed at the obnoxious nature of the words, but in this moment, you moan and nod eagerly.

He decides you've had enough teasing and indulges you. It is supposed to be a celebration after all. He slips his fingers out of you and frees his hand from the confines of your shorts. With you still on top of him, he scoots back on the wooden dock. The last thing he needed was for you to fall in the water mid-riding him.

The thought makes him decide to flip the two of you over entirely so that you're on your back against the planks. He could only imagine the other's reaction to you both trudging back in the mansion soaking wet, the scent of alcohol coming off you in waves.

You giggle when your head clunks against the hard surface, already squirming to get your clothes off. He helps you out with that and shoves your shorts and underwear halfway down your thighs. It would be enough for right now. The two of you could do this properly later tonight in the comfort of your bed.

He kneels above you and unzips his pants before pulling his length out. It's rock solid, yearning to slide inside you. He doesn't waste any time. His body hovers above yours, his bulky arms on either side of your head. He nudges his hips forward until his tip meets your dripping cunt.

You whine as he splits you open on the thick shaft. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You don't feel anything else in the moment, not the rough wood against your arms or the cool breeze blowing over the both of you. Right now, everything is about you and him.

He pushes his cock all the way in and then drags it back just as slowly. Your slick coats him down to the base, making the swath of dark hair there shimmer with evidence of your connection. He grunts at how tight your pussy grips him. The wordless plea for him to never leave.

His hands stay planted against the wood as he begins to rock back and forth. Your legs stay bent up, pressing against his sides as he works.

You babble out words of praise, but they slur together and end up incoherent.

"What's that?" he asks with a playful smile.

"Said it feels s'fuckin' good," you choke out again. Your words fizzle away in an instant though when a hard thrust rips a squeal from you.

He chuckles and only pumps his hips harder.

"That right, baby?" he taunts.

Your head bobs in agreement, more mumbled enjoyment coming from you. You try to boost your own hips to reciprocate a bit, but you're too out of it. All you can do is lie there and let him make you feel good.

He doesn't mind. He likes the control over you, the duty to provide your pleasure.

"Taking it so well for me," he grunts, "Can't think or talk, but your body still knows what it's doing."

"Mhm," you whimper.

He smiles at the weak noise.

Your legs quiver in their folded position, the muscles in your thighs spasming as the feelings in your belly become harder to deal with. The blooming sensation of euphoria makes your brows furrow and your jaw clench.

"Oh, I know that face," he coos, "You getting ready to cum?"

"Y-yeah," you force out around whines.

You look so fucking cute like this, he's about ready to finish too. Everything about you is just so precious in this moment. The needy look in your eyes, the faint pout on your lips. All of it makes him throb.

Seconds later your hips buck and your back arches off the wooden dock. Your arms fly up and wrap around him. The sound of his name comes out garbled among other expletives and cries.

Every syllable is drenched with satisfaction, and it's enough to drive him over the edge as well. He's not as loud as you when he cums. His pleasure comes out in a muted groan, made even softer by burying his face against the skin of your neck.

You barely register the feeling of his release. Most of the time, it was your favorite part, but in your blissed-out, intoxicated state, it's harder to focus on.

The feeling that stands out to you most is when he slides out and peels himself off of you.

You whimper and grab at him. "Don't leave." you pout.

He laughs at your little display, shaking his head. "When have I ever left you, hm?" he asks and leans over to kiss your forehead.

You suppose it's true, so you don't protest further. He takes on the responsibility of putting himself and you back together. His zipper slides back into place before he tenderly pulls your panties and shorts up over your ass again. In a lazy attempt to help, you scoop up the used beer cans in front of you.

"We can't litter," you say before laughing a little more.

He decides to gather you up into his arms, carrying you back in the direction of the school. He didn't want you to trip and fall while inebriated. Plus, this would probably be faster anyway. 

You hold the lot of cans in your arms like some sort of makeshift aluminum baby. Your eyes stay on his face though, gleaming with adoration. He notices the look and raises his eyebrows.

"What are you staring at me for?" he asks, mocking your earlier question.

"You're seeing things, old man. Think you had too much to drink too," you answer before letting your head dangle back over his arm, another laugh echoing across the open expanse of the field.

[rynwritesreid]

The Perfect Girl || Spencer Reid.

Summary: You are Spencers dream girl, everything is perfect about you. However, there is something you can’t tell Spencer as it will put his life in danger.

Content: Reader is basically on the run from some bad people. AFAB reader who goes by she/her. It’s kind of angst and full of fluff :) Use of Y/N.

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist | requests are open | Navigation

You were Spencer’s dream girl; all his colleagues and friends knew you were the perfect girl for him. From the moment Spencer saw you, he knew you were the one. You were smart, you could argue your way out of anything and most importantly you always stood up for what you believed in, no matter the consequences you may face. Spencer could not get enough of you. You were a light in a world full of darkness for him.

 

So, when you just disappeared, he was left confused and alone. That wasn’t something you would do; it was totally out of character for him. You would have said goodbye, whether that in person, through a text or on a note. You wouldn’t have just left him like this.

Spencer searched for you everywhere. He looked in all the places he thought you might go, the places you mentioned you loved visiting growing up or places you took him, but you were nowhere to be found. As days turned into weeks, Spencer grew more and more frustrated. He missed your fiery spirit and the way you challenged him to be a better person.

 

He had asked Garcia for help; she could track anyone down. But you were smart. You had left all belongs that could be traced in your old apartment. You didn’t use any bank accounts; you face wasn’t found on any security cameras or systems. You were now just a ghost.

 

Spencer was at his wit's end. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again. He knew he had to do something, anything to find you. He spent every moment of his free time pouring over any information he could find about you. He was determined to find a lead, no matter how small.

 

He would get angry at himself, he worked for the FBI, part of his job was searching for people. So why couldn’t he find you? Then he would get angry at you, why did you leave without saying anything, were you in trouble or did you just get bored? Spencer wanted to give up, you obviously didn’t want to be found, so why should he keep searching.

 

But despite his frustration and anger, Spencer couldn't help but worry about you. He knew that you were capable of taking care of yourself, but he couldn't shake the feeling that you were in trouble. He spent countless nights lying awake, trying to think of any leads or clues that could lead him to you.

 

He knew that there was only one person he knew that could truly help him in this situation. She had disappeared before, and she was able to keep part of her history a secret. Emily Prentiss. She was the only one who could possibly understand why someone would do this, and where they would go to hide.

 

Spencer picked up the phone and dialled Emily's number. It rang a few times before she picked up.

 

"Reid, it's good to hear from you. What's going on?" Emily's voice was warm and comforting.

 

"It's about Y/N. She's disappeared and I can't find her. I've tried everything. I don't know what to do." Spencer's voice was strained, and he could feel himself starting to panic.

 

"Okay, Reid. Take a deep breath. Let's go over everything you've done so far." Emily's calm voice helped steady Spencer. They spent the next few hours going over all of Spencer's attempts to find you.

 

"Okay, I have an idea," Emily finally said. "There's a group of people I used to know. They're kind of like a... rogue organization. They know how to disappear without a trace. If anyone would know where Y/N is, it would be them."

 

Spencer leaned forward; his interest piqued. "What kind of organization?" he asked.

Emily hesitated for a moment before answering. "They're a group of people who specialize in helping individuals disappear. It's not technically legal, but they only help people who are in danger or need to start fresh for whatever reason."

 

Spencer nodded, understanding. "Do you think they'll help me find Y/N?"

 

Emily shrugged. "It's worth a shot. I can make some calls and see if any of my old contacts are still active. But Spencer, you have to understand that this could be dangerous. These people don't mess around."

 

Spencer didn't care. He was willing to do whatever it took to find you. "I'll do whatever it takes," he said firmly.

 

You were safe, you weren’t happy, but you were safe. It took all of your will power to disappear and not tell Spencer anything. You loved him, but this needed to happen.

 

You were now living under a new identity, in a small but quaint town. You had a new job and a new home, but you always had the feeling of someone watching you. You knew your past was eventually going to catch up with you, it was something you had constant nightmares about.

 

One day, you received a phone call from an unknown number. You answered hesitantly, and a voice on the other end spoke.

 

"Is this Y/N?" the voice asked.

 

You froze. How did someone find you? "Who is this?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

 

"My name is Emily Prentiss. I used to work with Spencer at the FBI."

 

You felt your heart racing. Did Spencer send her to find you? "What do you want?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

 

"I know you disappeared for a reason, and I'm not here to judge you for that. Spencer asked for my help in finding you.”

 

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you. You wanted to see Spencer so badly, but you knew that it was dangerous for both of you. "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to be found," you said firmly.

 

"Y/N, I know you're scared. But Spencer is so worried about you. He misses you so much, and he just wants to know that you're safe," Emily said gently.

 

Tears welled up in your eyes. You missed Spencer too, but you weren't sure if you were ready to face him just yet. "I need some time to think," you said finally. "Can I call you back?"

 

"Of course. Take all the time you need. But please, consider talking to Spencer," Emily said before hanging up the phone.

You spent the next few days agonizing over what to do. You missed Spencer more than anything, but you were still afraid. Finally, you decided.

You would meet with Spencer, but only once. You knew that seeing him again would only make it harder to stay hidden. But you couldn't bear the thought of him thinking that you didn't care about him at all.

 

You called Emily and told her that you were willing to meet with Spencer, but only under certain conditions. Emily agreed and made the necessary arrangements.

 

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were nervous. You dressed in a plain outfit, nothing that would make you stand out. You arrived at the meeting place and saw Spencer waiting for you.

 

He looked relieved and overjoyed to see you, and it took everything in you not to run into his arms. You sat down across from him, keeping your face hidden as much as possible.

 

"Y/N," he said softly. "I'm so glad you're okay."

 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Spencer looked at you with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

 

“I’m okay, but I am going to have disappear again after this. Spencer, I love you, and I did this for us. I was putting your life in danger and your career in jeopardy. When I was teenager, I got mixed up things, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are people out there who are trying to find me and well kill me.” You paused; you couldn’t let Spencer know everything.

 

Spencer looked at you, his face full of love and concern. "Y/N, I understand that you were trying to protect me, but I can't bear the thought of losing you again. Please, let me help you. We can figure this out together."

 

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "Spencer, I can't let you do that. You have a life here, a job, a future. I can't let my problems drag you down with me."

 

Spencer reached across the table and took your hand. "Y/N, I love you. I don't care about any of that. All I care about is being with you and keeping you safe. Please, let me help you.”

 

“Spencer, if I do let you help me. You’ve got to promise that you won’t die or put yourself in harm’s way. Because if you do, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

 

Spencer looked at you, his eyes full of determination. "I promise, Y/N. I will do everything in my power to keep us both safe. We can do this together."

 

You looked into his eyes, and you knew that he meant every word. Slowly, you nodded. "Okay, Spencer. I'll let you help me."

 

Spencer smiled; relief evident on his face. "Thank you, Y/N. We'll figure this out together."

Join my taglist

[arsenal-womens-1]

In the blink of an eye

People often use the saying "your life can change in the blink of an eye" a lot. Six weeks ago, you understood what the saying meant. One day, you were taking a silly DNA test for fun with your friends. The next thing you know, you find out your whole life is a lie when you get the DNA results back. It turns out the people who said they were your birth parents are not, in fact, your biological parents; they kidnapped you.

For six weeks, you've kept a huge secret. It's eating at you. Leah Williamson is your sister. For six weeks, you've been going to training, playing, eating, and talking with your biological sister, and she has no clue about your secret. How were you supposed to tell someone they're your sister when you were kidnapped at six months old? You can't even look at her. People have started to notice that you can't look at her and that you are avoiding her as much as possible.

You have been staying with Beth and Viv for about five weeks now. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what you found out. Beth and Viv don't know the real reason; they just think that your mum and dad went back to live in Spain. Your head is a mess, questioning who you are, why did they take you. Would your life have been different? Would you have gotten into football? All these "what ifs," you would never get the answers to any of them.

It hurts, knowing that you would never get the answers to why they took you and stuff like that. Hearing a knock at your door, you get up. Standing in front of you was the one person that you didn't want to see. “Hey, you ready to go? Beth and Viv are waiting in the living room.” Nodding your head, you walk past her and into the living room where you see a bunch of footballers walking over to where all the shoes are kept. You pick a random pair.

After you put them on, you walk over to where Beth and Viv are, giving a weak smile to Viv. She looks at you; it's clear you had been crying at some point. “You ok, kid?” Giving her another weak smile, you nod your head. Hearing Kim shout, “We will all meet at the restaurant, everyone drive safe,” as all the footballers pile out of the tiny apartment. You, Viv, Beth, Leah, and Jordan are the last to pile out. Walking to the car, Beth and Leah were whispering to each other about something.

Pulling out your phone, you take a picture of your outfit, posting it on your Insta and Snap stories. You stop at the car, waiting for Viv to open it. When she does, you get in; Jordan was in the middle, and Leah was on the other side. The car ride was quiet for the most part. Getting out of the car, you walk into the restaurant. Beth, Viv, Leah, and Jordan weren't that far behind. Alessia and Ella come over; you know them from England.

You got your first call-up two months before the Euros, and I guess Sarina liked the way you play, as you got the call to join the team for the Euros. It's now November 1st; life has been crazy since you won. Walking to the table, you sit more away from your Arsenal teammates. The night went well; everyone was happy and talking to each other. It's now the next day; you had a game today, so you need to get there at 5 am because it's a 12:30 kick-off.

Getting up, you slip on a hoodie and joggers, trying to shake off the weight of your secret. As you head out the door, you walk to the kitchen where some of the Arsenal girls are; some stayed over last night. Beth passes you a coffee. "Hey," she says, her voice soft and it has a hint of tiredness in it. "Are you okay? You seemed a bit off last night." You force a smile, hoping to deflect her worry. "Yeah, just tired, I guess. Big day ahead."

Giving another forced smile, you walk over to the couch and flop down next to Jen. The news was on the TV; nothing interesting, so you just go on TikTok and watch some fan edits showing Jen. A few here and there were of to the training center; it's cold as it's like -4. As you arrive at the training center, each step you take is heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of your secret. Your mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Jen's concerned gaze follows you, her eyes silently pleading for you to confide in her, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. Not yet. Inside the training center, the familiar sights and sounds offer little comfort. Your mind keeps drifting back to Leah. How do you face her knowing what you know? The guilt threatens to consume you whole. As the bus parks up, you catch Leah's eyes. For a moment, it feels like she can see right through you, like she knows the truth.

You quickly look away, unable to bear the weight of her gaze. She was just a teammate six weeks ago, and now she is your sister. Well, I guess she always has been, but you didn't know. Getting on the coach, you sit next to Katie, Catlin, Steph; you don't really talk to them. The game was a blur; yous won 2-0. After taking photos with fans, you walk down the tunnel where Leah, Beth, Katie, and Georgia Stanway are.

Leah walks over to you; as you try to walk away, she gently grabs your arm. “Hey, can we talk?” You just shake your head, and you try to pull your hand away. “What have I done to you to make you hate me?” You shake your head. “I don't hate you, Leah.” She still has your hand in her grasp. “You can't look at me; you don't talk to me, and you won't tell anyone what's going on.”

You do the only thing you can think to get her to let go of you. The connection of your hand connects to her face echoes through the tunnel. The girls come over and quickly separate you. Beth comes up to you and pulls you around the corner. “What's going on? Leah just wanted to know if she did something; why did you slap her?” Looking at Beth, the concern for you and a bit of anger for slapping Leah, you couldn't bear it any longer.

You let all the emotions out, letting a sob rip through you. Beth steps forward and gently pulls you into a hug so your head is resting on her shoulder. “She-I'm-” She tries to calm you down. “She's my sister.” Letting another sob rip through your body, you feel Beth tense under you. “What are you talking about?” Wiping your head around, you see Leah standing there.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Do Ghost and Jade's kids don't know about their careers (or in Jade's case, former career)? Cause the comic you made of Andrew seeing Ghost in the middle of the night sorta implies they don't know about their parents' military background.

HMMM HM HM Good catch right there 👀👀

So this is also a part of what I've been thinking inside the Riley family after they have kids.

- I feel like the kids would definitely know about Simon's career as a soldier. BUT, as they are still in their early teens, I'd imagine that Andrew, Gracie, and later Orion know that their dad is a soldier, but that's the extent of their knowledge. They do know about Simon's nickname "Ghost", but they don't know how Simon operates inside the Task Force, they're not aware that their dad is an officer of one of the most elite and dangerous task force in the world. As far as they know, their dad only has edgy hobbies that involves black outfits and skull/skeleton themed. Heck, they even made fun of his preferences in outfits.

- But dear God, they never saw him in a full-on combat gear, in the dark of the night.

- Ghost is an officer, so day by day, he'd left the house with open face, and only wears the mask inside the car. After work day, he'd take off the mask before entering the house. If he's too tired, he'd try to sneak in in the deep of the night without making a sound. He'd sworn to himself that 'Ghost' will never enter his family and children's house/lives. They do not need trouble and his dangerous line of work to enter the one thing he cherishes the most.

- However, once you have kids, you can't hide anything forever. They'll find out by themselves (in this case, Andrew is entering his puberty and needs some midnight munchies). Simon and Lottie knows this, so they already have everything figured out. What would Andrew's reaction be, what would Gracie's reaction be, what would Orion's reaction be. They've discussed what they'd reveal, and what they'd still keep a secret, again, until they're old enough to know. They tread VERY carefully about it.

- About their mother though, that's a whole different story. After their marriage, Jade has strictly commited to be a mother for her kids, and opened a branch of The Garden in Herefordshire. She's an ✨ entrepreneur ✨. She's not that active to be called into deployment as before she had kids. If she's used to be 60% florist and 40% TF141 ally, after she had kids she'd be 98% Mum and Florist, and 2% TF141 Ally. Her kids literally only knows her as a florist, and that's it. Up until their late teens, Andrew, Gracie, and Orion would have no clue nor idea about her past with MI6. She didn't lie, she's just holding the truth until they're big enough to understand.

- In fact, Ghost BEGGED and asked Jade to not be active inside the TF141 or any conflicts anymore, considering Ghost would be deployed a lot (and how he's promoted to Captain and above), he'd want his wife to be with her kids. Jade herself also agreed, but she also told Ghost to not die and do stupid stuff. Even though married and less involved in the TF141 business, her resolve stayed the same. If he's missing, she'd pick up the guns in a heartbeat.

- Now, back to the kids. I'd imagine that because of how eventful each of Simon and Lottie's lives are, it sort of like become a game to the family. Each birthdays of the kids, Simon has established a "3 Question" rule game, where the kids can ask their parents anything about their lives. From Andrew and Orion, it's usually trivial and simple stuffs like "What's the naughtiest things you've ever done" "What's your favorite bla bla bla". HOWEVER, with Gracie, its always "What's your favourite mission?" "What's the worst condition of a dead body you've ever find?" "Who's the most difficult bad man you've ever encountered?" "Where is he now?"

- Ghost and Jade would answer with only two sentences. Looking at each other for approval. Gracie is most definitely Simon's daughter with that line of questioning. BUT, again, with every birthdays, and with their increasing age and they become more mature, they'll reveal everything bit after bit.

- By the time they finally know everything about their parents, they'd be in college years, probably, and Simon would no longer be the Ghost (he might be one of the higher ranked officer at this point), and Lottie would be completely out of the Task Force 141 game, becoming a regular civilian. Still, it'd be a legendary story to tell.

WOOHOO I kinda yapped a bit there, but hope that answer your question!

[somehow-a-human]

Moonlight Serenade & Good Omens &... the TV show Lost...?

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY.

The music of Good Omens is something I have been ACTIVELY avoiding turning my focus on. The risks of hyperfixating and spiraling into it are HIGH. There are so many elements to get lost in, repeating motifs like Dies Irae, tolling bells, character themes... but I digress.

Could I hold out forever? no. and something finally pushed me over the edge. Wait for it..... Lost. Yep. The TV show Lost. WAIT WAIT, don't leave! STAY WITH ME! I promise I don't *think* I'm crazy and I have a point here!

Why Lost? And what does it have to do with Moonlight Serenade and WHAT DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH GOOD OMENS?! Well my lovelies continue under the cut with me and keep an open mind...

Okay so... Lost. Yes, the insane 2004 mystery plane crash island adventure drama. It's a wild ride, and a masterpiece and a little bit crazy, but overall pretty damn good. I've been on a rewatch spree and wouldn't you know it... parallels between lost and Good Omens popped up in my brain! I mean they are both intricate mysteries so it makes a tad bit of sense but there was one little detail that *might* be a *clue*, or just an easter egg if anything. I promise you don't need to know anything about Lost to follow this :)

First off, what are some of the recurring themes that Lost the TV show and Good Omens have in common you might ask?

Life & Death

Alternate timelines & Time Travel

Literary Allusions (Catch-22, The Bible, A Tale of Two Cities)

Prophecies & Premonitions

Symbolism of Black & White/ Light & Dark

Yeah okay that tracks, but look there are 121 episodes of Lost and 12 episodes (so far) of Good Omens so there's bound to be some overlap for these two.

You'll be thinking about now, "BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH MOONLIGHT SERENADE?!" I'm getting there, shhh, lemme pet your hair gently and keep giving you background information to build it up shhhh...

If you've never seen Lost there is a very good chance you're mighty confused at this moment, so let me reassure you, you don't need to know anything about it to understand the connections I'm going to make. A brief synopsis is: Oceanic flight 815 crashes on an island. The plane crash survivors quickly discover the island is more than it seems to be and holds many secrets and mysteries. A lot of people die, most of them are murdered, it's giving Lord of the Flies if it was in the horror genre. That's honestly all you need to know.

Time Travel & Alternate Timelines

Time travel is cannon in Lost. It's super confusing and I'm not even going to try to explain any of it here. It's honestly just not worth it. If you'd like to try and read about it, the abridged version is here, but I don't think the details are important. Just know it's real and confirmed and exists.

Okay so, *SPOILERS FOR LOST WILL FOLLOW* In Lost season 2, episode 13 "The Long Con" two of the plane crash survivors are trying to find a signal on a radio they've found. While scrubbing they come across a signal playing Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. One character mentions it must be from somewhere nearby, but the other counters that this type of radio can pick up signals from anywhere in the world. There is a beat and then another character jokingly adds "Or any time. Just kidding, dude."

It's later confirmed that the Lost characters in 2004 are indeed picking up a radio signal from 1940 that is playing Moonlight Serenade, a product of time travel.

Congratulations, you've made it to the point where I'm going to bring Good Omens into the mix. In season 2, episode 4 "The Hitchhiker" we open seeing Aziraphale driving back from Edinburgh late at night/early morning. Uncomfortable with the darkness and silence he asks the Bentley to "play something that's got a bit of swing? I'm in the mood for something modern."

The Bentley obliges the angel, as she always will, and we are shown a shot of the radio specifically lighting up, so we know she's tapped into the radio to play this for Azi, but there is no channel selected.

Compared to Season 2, Episode 3 "I Know Where I'm Going" when we see the radio is playing and does display the channel.

But hold on. Okay maybe it just isn't showing the channel, that's fine, but Aziraphale asked for "modern"? Moonlight Serenade is most certainly not modern. It was recorded in 1939! I'd say in 2023 it's anything but modern, maybe not in Aziraphale's long lived opinion, but certainly in the Bentley's opinion, given she's only a 97 year old car.

I think you can see now what I'm saying here. I think the Bentley picked up a radio signal from 1940, maybe 1941? Episode 4 is of course our 1941 blitz magic show bullet catch flashback extravaganza, so... it makes sense. I know we like to headcanon Crowley and Aziraphale listened to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square in the bookshop in 1941 after the bullet catch, but what if they listened to Moonlight Serenade on the radio instead?

What does it mean?

A reference to this small moment from Lost could be a nod to the first hint of the canonization of time travel in that series. We know Crowley can control time to some extent and we can see some evidence of time discontinuities and possibly time weirdness in season 2 so is it a hint that timeline funkiness IS happening? Do I want to get into the fact that the main character in The Hitchhiker, the Twilight Zone episode this episode is named after, is actually dead? No I don't, not now anyway.

Or it's just an absolutely lovely little Lost easter egg.

SO! There it is... weird little connection that I couldn't get out of my brain. It just seemed a bit too... ineffable.

As always this is all for fun and all for fans! Don't ask Neil about these things, they're for us to have fun with. And something else that I don't think some people on here understand about meta-analysis; the goal of it is not necessarily to be correct. It can be, if that's your thing. Refuting peoples posts, theories, analysis, and headcanons because you personally don't agree with them and telling them they're wrong and stupid doesn't achieve anything. Meta-analysis is an exercise in critical thinking and creative writing. You could write meta about how Spongebob is a critique of the loss of christian values in modern society and you wouldn't be right or wrong, you'd just certainly be a person who wrote that for sure though. Just, be kind to each other, share ideas, you're allowed to disagree with someone's ideas or have different ones of your own but don't be cruel in saying so, don't call someone stupid, that's just silly.

Love you all, do something kind for yourself today <3

ps. The moment I see Michael Sheen with blonde hair come January I'm gonna bark like a dog, that's all. Thanks.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Hiya! Have you ever gotten a platonic request? If not then this could always be your first! I wanna ask for headcanons of stu macher's sister x billy loomis (if you have the time)

I wanna see the headcanons of how wpuld stu macher deal with the fact that his younger sister (same age as billy, just younger by a few months) is dating his friend who is also a serial killer like hinself and of course she wouldn't know that but still-

Stu would threateb billy to not lay a knife on her or else-

Stu loves her obviously, he's protective. Well you should be if your sister is dating your friend who is also a killer! ^._-.

Now that I can finally get back to doing requests I have chosen you lucky anon as my first! Thank you so much for sending this request in, I love this idea!

Notes: Minors DNI, SFW, This request obviously has a AFAB female presenting reader in mind. She/Her pronouns used.

+ First and foremost I see the relationship as something you and Billy would probably keep a secret at first. Billy has a good thing going with Stu and even though he loves you I could see him not wanting to ruin that.

+ When Stu finally does find out, he's not furious but he's definitely not happy. Out of everyone in school you JUST HAD to pick Billy Loomis, even if him and Billy are friends.

+ Cue a lot of angry Billy and Stu fights both in front of you and behind your back when their out doing Ghostface stuff.

"Billy what the hell man? Out of all the people in school it had to be her?"

"I didn't fuckin do it on purpose Stu! I just really like her ok?"

+ You knew Billy and Stu were friends but you had no clue about Ghostface. I wouldn't be surprised if Stu would think that you dating Billy would put both you and Ghostface in jeopardy.

+ Billy would treat you amazingly though, at first Stu would be apprehensive cause he's seen Billy with how he treats his girlfriends but Billy would prove him entirely wrong with you.

+ Whenever Billy would have any free time from school or Ghostface you could probably find him holed up in your bedroom, laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. Now that he's dating you he really doesn't have a reason to leave the Macher household, ever.

+ Since your Stu's sister you've probably been around to see Billy go through the situation with his parents. You know him better then 99 percent on anyone else, even sometimes better then Stu.

+ As time would go on I think Stu would slowly but surely warm up to you and Billy being a thing. Billy would have to prove himself though don't get me wrong.

+ Now that your fully into the lives of both of them, close calls with Ghostface would happen. You'd slowly start to get suspicious as to the strange times and places you would see both your boyfriend and brother.

+ They would of course write it off though.

"Sis Me and Billy had that English project we had to do at the library"

"Babe we literally talked on the phone all night"

+ If you ever came to them with your fear of the Ghostface they of course would assure you that they would protect you. You of course none the wiser and comforted by their words would go along with it.

+ Behind the scenes though of course Stu would make sure Billy was 100 percent for you and this wasn't another Sydney situation. Stu swears that if Billy EVER threatened you like that, that it's over.

+Your the only thing Stu would ever end the Ghostface shit over, especially when it came to him not fully trusting Billy at first, and no matter what Billy says there will always be a part of Stu that doesn't fully trust him.

+ Stu, of all people, knows how unpredictable Billy can be. So for however long you two date he will always have a guard up.

[ughgoaway]

playing on my mind- blurb masterlist

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hi yall!!! I am so glad you're enjoying the blurbs, so I figured I'd make a separate masterlist for them!! I try and tag anything relating to this au with #teacher au! so you can search that on my blog for any content of these two idiots <3

original full fic- here

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❀ General fluff blurbs

blurb 1- matty is late to pick Annie up from school, but you're there to keep her company

blurb 2- matty comes into school on career day to play some music for the kids, and maybe to see you...

blurb 3- it's parents evening and matty comes in to see you, and talk about his daughter

blurb 4- its the yearly nativity play, and little Annie has a starring role

blurb 5- it's Annie's birthday, and matty brings in cake for the whole class. Maybe he ends up staying a while.

blurb 6- trick or treating together on Halloween and getting mistaken for a couple.

blurb 7- pre teacher reader, new dad matty has a screaming baby and no clue how to make it better. that is until he discovers the magic of a baby wrap...

blurb 8- two possible scenarios for the first "I love you"

blurb 9- you surprise matty front row at a show

blurb 10- going to a theme park once you and matty get together

blurb 11- (not really a blurb more just a passing thought lol) Annie losing her first tooth

blurb 12- another "I love you" for the first time scenario, if it was said during a fight/apology. Annie breaks her arm, and matty is a dickhead about it lol

blurb 13- short thoughts about matty dad dancing at a school Christmas dance.

blurb 14- not really a blurb but some slutty thoughts lol

blurb 15- Annie doing ross' hair

blurb 16- running into matty at a coffee shop and meeting george

blurb 17- Annie calling you mum for the first time (older teenage annie)

blurb 18- Annie calling you mum for the first time (young annie)

blurb 19- baby Annie is ill for the first time, and matty has no idea what to do. cue a panicked call to Adam and 4 grown men worried about a baby with a cold

blurb 20- Annie finds out about you and matty, and not in the way you hoped.

blurb 21- telling matty you're pregnant, with the help of new big sister Annie :)

blurb 22- you are sick and trying to ignore it, but matty becomes a nurse very quickly and refuses to let you just sit and rot lol

blurb 23- what matty is like during your early pregnancy

blurb 24- (short) Christmas with your family vs Matty's.

blurb 25- girls night out ends up with you getting a lip tattoo for matty, and he loves it

blurb 26- Annie decides its time to trial haircuts in her spare time, and matty is her first victim.

blurb 27- Annie is performing in a talent show, and everyone comes to watch.

blurb 28- Annie meeting her baby brother for the first time

blurb 29- small thoughts about Matty's reaction to Annie dating.

blurb 30- radom thoughts about matty comforting teacher reader after a hard week.

blurb 31- pregnant teacher reader and her mourning Matty's curls: :(

blurb 32- Annie gets her first boyfriend, who just so happens to be George's nephew. and they were doing a great job keeping it secret, until now

blurb 33- short thoughts about Annie's first award show :)

blurb 34- valentines crafts with Annie for matty pre-dating, and all the yearning that entails lol

blurb 35- first time going out as a family after you and matty have officially gotten together!

blurb 36- jealous matty after you see someone you used to go to uni with at a bar. He's definitely hitting on you, and matty is not happy.

blurb 37- a little explanation on Annie's mum and what their relationship is like!

blurb 38- first fight after you've gotten together and your first time trying to build something together.

blurb 39- your parents meeting Annie and matty for the first time.

blurb 40- mayhem, matty, and annie come home covered in mud after a walk, and the three of you are left with the job of bathing mayhem...

blurb 41- matty is home from tour, baby healy is born, and annie is beyond ready for her whole family to be in one place. matty makes snoopy pancakes for a the peanuts obsessed Annie as a celebration of his return <3

blurb 42- not a proper blurb, but just little thoughts about teacher girlie and dlid!!

blurb 43- not a proper blurb again, but just brief thoughts on celebrating your 1 year anniversary :)

blurb 44- baby healy smiles for the first time, and it's all because of a new 75 track

❀ 18 + blurbs

blurb 1- matty tries on your labcoat, and you can't help but feel slightly embarrassed about how attractive you find it - matty takes advantage, obviously.

blurb 2- soft gentle sex with matty after you've had a long week.

blurb 3- pulling matty straight off stage after that grab he did...

blurb 4- morning oral w/matty and holding his hand as he's between your legs <3

blurb 5- matty gets angry on the phone and it's hot, so he decides to make you tell him what made you feel like this and make you feel good

❀ kink concepts

(I asked people to send a kink and I gave my thoughts on how each au would feel about them. explained more here!! also features pornstar au, so scroll down for teacher au thoughts <3)

thoughts on roleplay

thoughts on shibari

thoughts on temperature play

thoughts on somno

thoughts on cum play

thoughts on dacryphillia

thoughts on choking

[blue-rose-soul]

For hazbin hotel au: what would happen she found out at first meeting with alastor and kept it a secret because she didn't know how to process it?

By 'she' I'm guessing you mean Charlie?

I don't think she'd end up keeping the secret for all that long, to be honest. We know how she feels about keeping secrets from loved ones, although she's not nearly as close with Alastor so it's somewhat excusable. I feel like Charlie would still believe she had an obligation to tell the truth though.

I'm also not sure what scenario would allow Charlie to know but not Alastor OR Lucifer. The reason I decided Lucifer was wasted when he hooked up with Nicaise is because Vivienne described Lucifer and Lilith as being deeply in love. Even if some things have changed, I don't think Lucifer would ever intentionally cheat on Lilith. Even if their relationship was an open one, I doubt Lucifer would have knowingly abandoned any kid of his.

So if Lucifer didn't know, I don't see how Charlie would.

Buuuuuuuuuuuut...

Let's say she does figure it out. Not right off the bat, but over time she pieces together some clues from things she's heard Alastor mention offhand and stories Lucifer told her when she was a bit younger, before they stopped talking regularly. She doesn't know what to say to Alastor, so she goes to Vaggie, who doesn't really know how to handle the situation either. But there's one guy who has to have answers, right?

Charlie ends up calling Lucifer earlier than in canon, inviting him to the hotel to talk about 'something important.' Sometime after episode 4 but before the months-long time skip between then and episode 5. Lucifer comes running over, eager to see Charlie for the first time in ages.

He meets Alastor... aaaaaand does NOT make a good first impression. You've seen Dad Beat Dad.

There's no Mimzy to break up the argument this time (she won't show up for another 4-5 months) so Charlie has to stop things before they escalate. Fortunately, reminding Lucifer that she had something important to talk to him about is enough to get him to drop his sniping match with Alastor.

Unfortunately, trying to extract the truth from Lucifer is like pulling a tooth. Charlie keeps trying to subtly poke and prod but Lucifer's only half-listening, distracted, or he gets wrapped up cooing over his 'little girl.' Vaggie's not around to provide backup, since Charlie wanted to speak with Lucifer alone.

Eventually Charlie gets fed up with Lucifer's rambling and snaps, "DAD! Did you cheat on Mom?"

It takes Lucifer a hot minute to process the question.

When he does he's shocked and hurt... and a little afraid.

"Why would you ask that?" he wonders, and Charlie walks him through her mental math. Once in a moment of drunken vulnerability, Alastor let slip that he was conceived at Mardi Gras in New Orleans, in the same year that Lucifer snuck to Earth. And that his father was never in the picture. Lucifer is embarrassed as he admits he doesn't remember the entirety of that night. But surely it's just a coincidence, right? Lots of kids were conceived that night, at that parade.

Charlie tells him that Alastor's mom apparently referred to his father as an 'angel' and suddenly Lucifer's not so sure.

They don't bring it up to Alastor yet. It's still not 100% certain, and Charlie doesn't want to drop that on Alastor's lap in case she turns out to be wrong. But she keeps wondering, picking out the little things she and Alastor and her father have in common. It's MADDENING. On top of which, now Charlie's daddy issues are exacerbated by the revelation that, whether or not Alastor actually is her brother, Lucifer might have strayed when he went up to Earth. She asks him to leave and Alastor's all too happy to sneer at Lucifer on the way out.

The next few months pass as they would have in canon, with Charlie mainly focusing on trying to redeem Angel Dust and Sir Pentious, BUT with one difference. She also spends her time trying to talk to Alastor more about his family and life on Earth. He's not entirely receptive to her questioning. Ultimately he'd rather just forget who he was as a human and embrace being the Radio Demon. But, from time to time, he feeds her tidbits of information that can't really be used against him. After all, if she feels like they're 'close' then he can use that to his advantage. Over time, though, Alastor starts doing his own math, and picks up some hints as to what Charlie's weird behavior is really about.

Lucifer, meanwhile, spends the time doing some digging and trying to figure out whatever became of Nicaise after Mardi Gras, 190x. His research pretty much confirms what he and Charlie had begun to suspect. One solace; it seems like Nicaise went up to Heaven. But Lucifer is devastated to learn that she left behind a 10-12 year old child when she did.

[cg-sunnyd]

reminder: there is nothing wrong with being a padded regressor, whether you use diaps actively or simply for comfort. this extends to out of regression as well, if you are someone who uses them for medical reasons! this account is safe and welcoming towards padded regressors!

(idea suggested by @ittybittybabyone - thank you for the idea!)

🧸snug and safe💝

∘₊✧ ∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘ ✧ ∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧

sometimes, it could be hard regressing at home. it was a secret from your family, whether it was because you didn't want to share it or weren't sure it'd be taken well, you simply hadn't told anyone about it.

luckily, your caregiver lived nearby! if you were feeling small, you could easily go over and see them, or they'd come over and pick you up. once back at their house, it was just a matter of getting into something comfortable and playing a game, reading a book, having lunch, or any of the other numerous things both of you liked to do together.

one thing that was the best about going to your caregiver's house was also sometimes the scariest. it had taken ages to get to bravery to shyly share with your caregiver that you maybe, sometimes, maybe thought it would be nice to try and wear some extra protection. your caregiver had laughed and before you could feel upset, they had admitted that they had bought some pull-ups and diapers just in case. it was only on occasion, because they could be hard to get, but it was enough.

today was saturday - finally the end of the week. between work and having to help host your relatives, it had been a terribly stressful week, and you were so looking forward to a weekend of nothing but snuggles and cuddles and playtime. as you waited by the driveway, you felt a bang of regret as you recalled that nearly a month ago, you'd used your last pull-up. but before you could linger on that, the familiar gray car pulled up.

"hey! come on, get in the car!" your caregiver called, their voice casual. as soon as you got in the car, however, their voice softened. "hey, buddy! i'm so happy to see you- i know it was a really hard week, huh?" they don't waste any time in turning on your favourite fun playlist as they pull into the street.

"really hard week. my cousins are annoying." you frowned and nodded, picking at your sleeve. they smile understanding at you, and pat your shoulder.

"well, don't worry! i made sure to pick up your favorite snacks and dinner foods, and even got some sippy cups of juice all ready in the fridge for us. plus, another surprise." they wink at you. immediately, it catches your interest.

"a surprise? what kinda surprise?" you ask eagerly, but your caregiver just grins. you keep trying to guess on the way to their house, just about ten minutes away, but they don't give you any clues. instead, they just usher you into the house.

"why don't you go pick a sippy cup out and go in the living room to pick a movie?" they suggest. you huff, but the excitement in your eyes is clear. you choose a yellow sippy cup of fruit punch and wander into the living room. pillows and blankets line the floor, the couch and cushions carefully set up to be a perfect cuddly nest.

you've barely picked your movie - a carebear movie - when they reappear. they've got something behind their back, and you gasp when they reveal the polka-dotted tote bag you use as a diaper bag.

"i know you weren't looking forward to this week, so i made sure to get something to help you feel really cozy and comfortable. come on over, bugga-boo." your caregiver coos, and you waste no time in scrambling up and crashing into them with a delighted shout.

with ease, they settle you onto the special blanket they kept in the bag, snagging the pajamas you picked out. after letting you pick out the pull-up you wanted (zoo animal themed!), they poke at your sides teasingly as they help get you changed up. your caregiver pauses to check the tabs and ensure it fits all nice and snug.

"you comfy, bugga?" your caregiver asks as they help tug your pajama shirt on. you nod happily, tossing your arms around them.

"you're the best, bubba," you say, feeling a bit shy despite everything. they just kiss you on the forehead and guide you back to the comfy nest in the living room.

"and you're the best too," they add as they settle next to you, letting you rest your head on their shoulder. they start the movie, and you squirm a bit to get comfortable before letting out a happy sigh.

as you drink your juice and enjoy the movie, the stress of the week seems so far away. all that matters is that you're happy and comfortable, and your caregiver is just as happy. it'll be a great and relaxing weekend for you both, no doubt.

[tasiales]

writing prompt idea - Alcina Dimitrescu x reader (long text below)

you've just recently started your new job as a nurse at the asylum, and it's during one of many meetings with one of your patients you're assigned to now what makes you trully fear for your life for the first time since you started your working journey there.

it takes one quick glimpse towards the haunched woman sitting seemingly peacefully on her bed scribbling something away in her journal to take your breath away. the woman before you is stunningly beautiful; her features and soft curves of her body hidden underneath all the clothing remind you that of someone sculpted by the gods themselves. it's only after your quick introduction to her that you've been pulled aside by one of your new colleagues to warn you in hushed whispers about previous unfortunate accidents revolving all other nurses ever interacting with your new patient you'd just met.

she's dangerous, they said.

be attentive around her, they warned.

she's a lunatic, they proclaimed.

how could she be, you thought, when she's one of your peaceful patients who you never had a problem with and whose sign of acknowledgement is barely there nods and tentative smiles she gives you during your rambling episodes to fill the silence in the time it takes you to finish your tasks. honestly, she's a delightful company in regards of not messing with you like others tend to do throughout your regular checkups. you try to focus on staying professional but it's hard to resist the pull you feel towards this mysterious woman who barely speaks. you'd been told she has amnesia and doesn't remember much, and you can't help but be sympathetic towards her with that bleeding heart of yours.

you don't give those warnings you'd received at the beginning of your job any ounce of significance until it's too late.

you have no clue what could be the cause of her enraged moment - snapping at you like that - but you don't feel like finding out any time soon. it was one of your checkups during which she suddenly lunged at you knocking the tray you were holding out of her way, pills and other equipment scattering on the floor and getting crushed under your feet. you had barely any time to think of screaming before there were hands around your throat and strong legs weighing down on you pinning you to the floor which you hadn't even noticed you were pulled down to. luckily for you, all the commotion taking place in the room was loud enough for one of the guards to take notice in; with their line of work they were accustomed to picking up on even the slightest signs of sound disturbance. you would never in your life forget those eyes staring down at you; they shined alarming golden - which was as disturbing as the fact she's physically strong enough to kill you - smoldering and daunting making your blood run cold, and in that moment you came to realize one thing that was probably meant to be kept as secret... that woman is not entirely human.

now resting in the safety of your apartment recovering from your miss death encounter, your fight or flight instinct though still in overdrive making you paranoid and jumpy, you're thinking back to that moment - with the woman you've been attracted to for a while squeezing the life out of you - you should've recognized something amiss when those eyes of hers - normal human grey-ish color before she went berserk - had started staring you down; should've heard the low tremble of her growls stuck in her throat waiting for the moment to be unleashed. you should've seen it coming, should've paid more attention and not getting your guard down like you'd been warned about not to do. but you were too preoccupied with chatting away believing in the innocence of your patient. now you know better.

you still don't know what was the reason for her to lash out in such a way, with such ferocity and animalism - the only topic you talked about when she decided it was a good day as any to choke you was Greek mythology(it's being your hobby since childhood), with Cassandra being brought up that particular day - and those golden eyes that still haunt your dreams is another mystery you're not sure you ought to crack open.

Or

you're a new nurse at the asylum getting attached to one particular patient of yours - mysterious Alcina Dimitrescu with amnesia who your colleagues claim to be deranged and a lost cause - until she assaults you during one of the checkups, and you're left wounded and terrified for your life. it isn't until few weeks later you have a chance at civil conversation with her but what you hear makes you want to rethink your eager approach to forgive her because cults? some cryptic sounding Miranda responsible for getting Alcina locked up at the asylum? her daugters being in danger from that woman? even though police claimed them to be dead? them being not entirely human? you talking about Cassandra triggered her memory? the two last ones you may believe but the rest of it? you find this all hard to be convinced of with no proof whatsoever. you would've thought her crazy if not for the fact that while looking at the sketch of that Miranda that Alcina showed you, dread starts pooling in the pit of your stomach because you recognize this woman staring at you from the confines of the journal; she's been everywhere you look after the choking accident making you all the more suspicious than you already were. now you think you were right to be unreasonably fearful of people surrounding you these days.

the question is... would you dive in into this sea of madness helping a complete stranger who you feel a pull towards and resurface unscathed, or would it consume you without mercy? only time will tell.

[g1rld1ary]

secret admirer ; anthony lockwood x fem!reader

➻ valentine's szn!!!!!!!

➻ word count: 1965

➻ synopsis: you've got a secret admirer who seems intent on spoiling you

➻ warnings: none?? she/her pronouns

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The gifts started small. First it was a single rose on the thinking cloth on February first. You only knew it was for you because of the small label tied with ribbon, your name printed in pretty cursive. You’d laughed a little, but smiled and brought it up to your room before any of your housemates could tease you for it.

Then it was chocolates a few days later, tucked neatly under a pile of papers you’d collected at the archives. You looked around the shelves but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary, and settled down with your friends for a long day of research. The only indication it was even related to the first gift was the same red ribbon tied attached.

“Hey, where’d you get the chocolate from? George never buys it for me when it’s his turn to shop,” Lucy moaned, stretching from her position on an armchair to reach for some. You gladly handed her a square, passing it off quickly to avoid it melting on your fingers. You both laughed at George’s indignant expression, and you cut him off before he could start on an offended spiel.

“It wasn’t from George. It was a gift,” You explained, and George suddenly looked very interested.

“From who? You don’t have any friends.” Ouch, you thought, but it was true. Apart from Lockwood & Co you didn’t even really know anyone in London. Lucy halted before the chocolate touched her tongue.

“Dunno. It was addressed to me at the archives. Tastes good though.”

“Dude!” Lucy choked on her spit, “You can’t just eat food you find! And give it to me!”

“What?” You asked, “We basically almost die every day. Rather die from weird chocolate than ghosts.” Lucy paused for a second, thinking, then shrugged, popping the chocolate into her mouth. “Want some?” You offered squares to Lockwood and George. George took it, giving you a smile that looked almost grateful, but Lockwood declined politely.

“You should enjoy it. The caramel ones are your favourite, right?” He gestured to the brightly coloured packaging. You beamed, nodding enthusiastically. George gave him a look you didn’t understand, all furrowed brows and searching eyes.

The night wound down and you and Lockwood were the last two remaining in the library, the chocolate long since finished. You often spent evenings like that, just the two of you. Lockwood would read the gossip rags while you would work on your codebreaking, occasionally interrupting you to show you a particularly ridiculous article.

You packed up before he did, brain exhausted from hours of picking apart the letters and numbers that were jumbled on the page.

“Goodnight, Lockwood.” You smiled softly, ruffling his hair like you knew he hated. He rolled his eyes but returned the phrase, giving you one of his signature smiles that created its own source of light in the dark room.

As you left the room Lockwood grabbed one of the sheets of paper you’d left sitting on the coffee table, scrutinising it quizzically. He was always fascinated by your work and how your brain could find the patterns in seemingly random messages, but for once he could follow the directions you’d scribbled. He smiled, feeling like he had an insight into your brain for once, a puzzle he delighted in trying to solve.

A few days later, a new book was sitting on your table when you returned from the bathroom at Arif’s. Wrapped in the telltale red ribbon you knew it was from the same person, but there wasn’t anybody you recognised in the shop. Puzzled, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d been eyeing the novel for ages but had never vocalised it and had no idea how anyone could have chosen it for you.

You flipped through the pages to see if there were any other clues as to who was giving you these gifts, and sure enough there was a series of numbers written in pencil on the inside cover. That elicited a frown from you, the numbers seemingly being random and irregular. You shrugged it off, slipping the book into your big coat pocket for later.

Hours later that night you found yourself back in the library with Lockwood, both quietly doing your own thing together. You pulled out the novel, eager to get stuck into it.

“A gift from your admirer?” Lockwood asked casually, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.

“I guess so. Must be a mind reader because I’ve wanted it for ages.” You missed Lockwood’s self satisfied grin. “Hey, do you have any idea what this would mean?” You showed him the numbers.

“Might be a code?” He suggested, gossip magazine long forgotten in favour of talking to you. Your eyes lit up at the suggestion, scrutinising the message with new eyes.

“It’s a bit short to get much out of,” You mused, “I’d need a bit more to start cracking it.” Lockwood made a noise of interest, taking it from your hands. You watched him examine it, reading the blurb with exaggerated interest.

“Looks mushy,” He said and you laughed, uncharacteristically loud for the time of night. Your face was a bit hot at being caught in your guilty pleasure.

“It’s dumb, but I like reading about all the stupid over-the-top gestures. Makes me feel happy.”

“I’ve not got a place to judge,” Lockwood laughed, waving his trashy magazine around. You joined him, voices tangling together in front of the fire.

The morning after brought a small package on the seat of your bike which lived chained up out the front of 35 Portland Row. You unwrapped the red ribbon quickly, eager to see what your surprise would be. You grinned as you saw the pretty bracelet, quickly sliding it on. It was beaded and colourful, clearly not expensive, but that was of little importance to you. In fact, you preferred it, you’d be mortified if you thought someone was dropping exorbitant amounts of money on you.

“This is new,” Lucy cooed as you entered the kitchen, gratefully taking your breakfast from George.

“You’ve really got a secret admirer here,” George said, and you could tell he was enjoying the little play you were all putting on.

“Yeah, wonder who it is,” Lucy added over her tea.

“I don’t know,” You lied, “Hope it’s some tan, blond surfer boy. Wouldn’t that be hot, Luce?” You could barely contain your teasing grin, eyes on Lockwood despite addressing the girl next to you. You had to look away as he choked on his juice, laugh threatening to spill out.

“Oh well then, I’m off to the archives in a minute, wait for me to get dressed, George?” You hopped out of your chair, skipping up to your bedroom. Lucy and George looked equally amused at Lockwood’s distressed expression, but it was George who surprisingly took pity on him.

“You know she’s just joking, right? She likes you.” He didn’t hold back from rolling his eyes when Lockwood looked surprised, following you upstairs to brush his teeth before your excursion.

“Does she really like me?” Lockwood asked, eyes honeyed pools of hope as he turned them on Lucy.

“You’re unbelievably stupid sometimes.”

You sat in the archives with George, him participating in productive case research, and you staring at the codes you’d been given — another one being given with the bracelet.

Truthfully, you’d figured out your secret admirer was Lockwood pretty quickly, he wasn’t the most subtle. You’d seen the roll of red ribbon peaking out of his dresser drawers in mid January, and were confused for a week or two before you started getting the gifts. Plus, George was right earlier; you didn’t have any friends other than Lockwood & Co, and you didn’t suppose George would be putting so much consideration into something as trivial as Valentine’s Day. That didn’t mean you weren’t completely overjoyed, though. Once you’d figured it out you’d barged into Lucy’s room in the attic, giggling and squealing like a twelve year old.

Still, even though you knew it was Lockwood, you still had to figure out what his bloody code said. It looked somewhat familiar to you, which made sense. Lockwood was definitely not a codebreaker, let alone writer, so it made sense that he would have taken one of your previous solves to create his own little game for you. The only question was which one. You figured he was smart enough to confiscate your key, so you were back to square one.

Hours later though, you were pretty sure you’d cracked it. Underneath your copy of the two messages you’d translated each letter to read February 14th, 7pm. Daria’s Italian Restaurant. You grinned, both because you were satisfied with your work and because you were going to go on a date with Lockwood.

When Valentine’s Day arrived, you were struck with sudden nerves. You knew it was dumb. Lockwood liked you, he had been sending you gifts and hints all month, he’d asked you out. You just couldn’t stop the voice in the back of your head from worrying. What if it was awkward? What if it ruined your friendship? Lucy was there to calm you down as much as she could, but it didn’t stop your hands from shaking as you pushed open the door to the restaurant.

And sitting by himself at a table for two was Lockwood. Dressed up in the cleanest version of his suit, he had a nervous smile on his face and a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. He stood to greet you, confidence growing as you admired the flowers. Tulips, your favourite.

The two of you proved your nerves ridiculous as the conversation flowed easily. It was surprisingly rare for the two of you to really get to talk one on one, so it was especially nice. Living with four people who you also worked with meant there wasn’t typically a lot of privacy or alone time, and your nights in the library together were dominated by silence, being in each others proximity enough for both of you.

As you shared a dessert there was a lull in conversation, both of you aware your date was coming to its end.

“I really like you,” Lockwood opened. “I have for ages, basically since I met you, if that isn’t too embarrassing for me. And, I don’t know, I want to be with you, if you want that.” You couldn’t keep yourself from smiling, light bursting from your chest.

“I want that. A lot. I really like you, Lockwood. And by the way, thank you for the gifts. It was super sweet — just like my romance novels.”

“You didn’t look surprised that it was me?”

“How could I be? I don’t know anyone who gives as much of their heart away as you do. Your superpower has always been making me happy. So disbelieving, maybe, but I couldn’t be surprised.” You were both smiling like idiots as Lockwood took your hand in his, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care.

You practically skipped the whole way home, tugging Lockwood along with you as he laughed at your antics. Just before you opened the front door Lockwood stopped you.

“You know they’re going to pester us for every detail, right?”

“I know,” You giggled, pressing a quick peck up onto his lips, leaving him behind to stand like an idiot on the welcome mat.

[isa-ghost]

Would go crazy over any q!phil hc's, but may I request some about phil's harem I mean qsmp server polycule?

OHOHOHOHO YOU'RE INDULGING MY STUPID SILLY HAREM. YESSS.

Previous qPhil Headcanons

SO ANYWAY. QPHIL AND HIS INNATE TALENT FOR PULLING BAD BITCHES ON ACCIDENT.

Reiterating initial mentions of this for context:

--He's married to the Goddess of Death (Kristin) and Missa (a reaper). He's also fuckbuddies with Fit (no one can look at their interactions & tell me there's no homo there) and Etoiles. Strictly fuckbuddies; Fit has something blooming with Pac, and Etoiles is aromantic. --Everyone who Knows(tm) about the polycule has turned calling it a harem into an inside joke they only reference when Phil either isn't around or isn't paying attention enough to be like WHAT. --In fact, it's unfolded into a sort of joke folklore around Phil made up by the islanders closest to him that he has this inexplicable charm to him that makes any man-attracted person weak in the knees. (Baghera totally started it. Cellbit, Foolish, & Fit perpetuated it & it spread from there) --All this fruity silliness in mind, I have no fucking clue what queer label I'd slap on Phil, if one at all. Part of me wants to claim him as pansexual bc I'm Pansexual So Therefore So Is My Cubito + the way he'd explain how he experiences romantic & sexual attraction is exactly what I described *my* exp as in high school and my friend was like "yeah that's pansexual." But I also feel like Phil's the kind of guy to purposely not define his sexuality & remain an enigma both as a "mind your business" & a "It's Funny To Not Elaborate" thing. (As of rn I'm rolling with "he's pansexual but in a font you've never seen before")

S O

Obv Mrs. Goddess of Death Kristin came first, she's been with him since long before Quesadilla Island. Strangely enough, she can't recall too much prior to the island just like Phil, but there's no way the Feds know she exists let alone know how to fuck up the memory of a deity. But yeah, she was his first & is his ONLY romantic dynamic within his weird polycule

She's an avid fan of Phil being his best unintentional whore self with them nice ass shoulders on display all the time and that accidental man magnet charm. Loves watching him pull bitches nonstop without even realizing. And loves watching him be a total fruity dork with his besties. She knows if Phil was forced to choose ONE person out of the polycule to be monogamous with forever, he'd pick her. She's not worried at all about his yaoi island adventures

Next came Fit. Hough, what a man. They WERE, until recently, strictly fwb. They fucked nasty behind that gym and I'll die on that hill. The way they talk to each other sometimes? Big boy?? FitMC people are watching?? They fucked behind that gym. Their fwb was called off as soon as Fit got serious with Pac though. Phil was totally chill with it & actively encouraged it. He loves seeing Fit so invested in the romance he's got blooming. They're still more than friends, not lovers, but a secret third thing, the sexual aspect was just removed from the equation. Truly the most QPR of the polycule

Then came Missa. Oh Missa. Their dynamic IS platonic like Phil has stated & restated countless times, but Missa has a (not yet brought to Phil's attention) massive romantic crush on him. He hasn't spoken up yet to keep their relationship from getting rocky at all. But tbh that prob won't happen. They're platonic in the Kiss The Homies way. So what if they make out sometimes and are husbands? So what if they go on adventures that could be considered dates by some? They aren't a romantic relationship, even if Missa secretly kinda wants to be.

And finally, aromantic king Etoiles joined the fray. He and Phil started out as friends and that has Barely changed if at all, but sparring matches get a little too homoerotic sometimes and neither of them can resist the other when they're popping off extra hard. Things have. Escalated a few times. If yknow what I mean. Of all Phil's harem members polycule partners, he & Etoiles have absolutely ZERO emotional investment in the Spicy(tm) things they do together. It's simply a very intimate way of showing each other their respect & admiration for the other. What they have going on is a "*spanks you* good game, let's hit the showers team" kinda deal. They're the type of mfs to finish in bed then shake hands like "gg." Casual sex is >>>> to these two, but it happens waaay less between them than it did Phil & Fit, Fitza was habitual. Codebreakers is a once in a while thing

Btw once Fitpac gets more stable together and whatnot, Fitza could potentially reignite with Pac's consent. That's the key to healthy poly, all parties are informed & consenting. Pac would be like. An honorary harem member. He & Phil would have absolutely 0 intimate relations, they're strictly friends in the most basic sense of the word. They just also fuck the same guy (& would totally talk about it together if alone)

Phil sometimes tries to gauge if Missa only likes men or if he likes women too. If he does, he's going to ask if he'd like to hear about his lord & savior, Big Woman(tm).

Etoiles has 100% asked Phil who fucks the best out of the polycule bc like everything else, it's a competition & he Must win, he Must have the best dick game. This amuses Phil very much

*incoherent but clearly passionate noises about how Phil hasn't done anything spicy with any of the polycule in a hot second because of Ender King Situation stress*

GOD he wants to open up to them about it so bad. Like yeah he did w Fit that one time but he didn't go into detail and hasn't said anything since and bc Phil is an idiot that feels guilty easily, he doesn't want to tell Fit more atm bc he doesn't want to dampen Fit's high spirits or take away his time with Pac

OK BUT CONSIDER: POLYCULE GROUP EFFORT TO GET THROUGH TO ENDER KING POSSESSED PHIL AND HELP HIM FIGHT OFF EK'S INFLUENCE. OUGH.

Phil attracted all four partners with his raw skill and talent btw. If you even care. Literally was just going about his business being himself and it bagged him three dudes in addition to the literal goddess he already had

Although his feelings are platonic, Phil is attracted to Missa because Missa is a) the other father of his children and b) such a genuine and sweet person. And funny, even if a lot of the times the reason he's funny is bc he's like 2 seconds from having a stroke over whatever shit he missed hitting the fan this time

Phil is attracted to Fit bc. Well. That's FitMC of 2b2t, baby. Raw skill and talent sees raw skill and talent. Fellow anarchist. Also muscles. And that razor sharp stare. Fit's just dreamy as hell ok, let a man drool a little

Phil is attracted to Etoiles the same way he's attracted to Fit, HOWEVER, the reasoning is different. Etoiles has raw skill and talent, but it's the way he wields it and demonstrates it that makes Phil wanna act up. Also Etoiles is fucking hilarious. Who can resist a good sense of humor? Those dramatics make Phil swoon

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

i kinda wanna know what goes down when darling finds out about the database on her. like we know yves is never gonna make a mistake, he's always gonna have things at home under control, but what if darling is just THAT nosy (me tbh) HAAKKALZKAKZ ANYWAY WELCOME BACK HOMIE

Maybe, you finding out about his database is intentional. Yves knows best, after all. He knows that you're not above snooping around his office even though he expressed that it's rude and he does not appreciate you invading his privacy. He is a massive hypocrite in a sense that he finds it unnerving to have anyone else collect information on him like how he collects yours.

He collected enough information to know that you would either be flattered to know he is paying attention to you so attentively that he is willing to invest an exorbitant amount of time and resources on you, or downright disgusted at him. If Yves deems that your reaction to him figuring out his well kept secret is positive (to him), he might even leave hints and clues for you to eventually discover his vault on your own. Even then, the dossiers that you discovered may still be a decoy, to keep you complacent and feeling somewhat secure in your privacy.

It really depends on your personality and how likely you are to react, and what will be the most effective method of making you stay happy with him. He could, weep prettily and apologize sincerely if that would make you feel better about it. He also could stay silent, put on his best poker face and let your anger fizzle out on it's own. Yves has years of experience bargaining and negotiating his way out of trouble and into getting what he wants. He could double-down on his decision and make it as if he isn't in the wrong at all, making you feel embarrassed that you perhaps 'overreacted'. he is horrifyingly good at doing that. He would definitely reward you for backing down.

If you have a particularly short attention span or memory, he could use that to his advantage and distract you with something else, I'd advice you to take a good, hard look at your medication if you take any. Take a look at your prescription glasses, your eyesight isn't getting worse or better. You're not losing your hearing, pay attention to the hidden speakers all around his house, it's playing something that you cannot hear.

The lights aren't bothering you but it doesn't mean you should ignore the fact that it's not irritating. The temperature seems to be perfectly fine, "nothing" wrong. It feels so much easier to breathe here, strange. Time feels different in his home, it almost doesn't feel linear. Some days it's harder to move around on your feet, some days it feels like a breeze.

And these aren't just coincidences, if Yves can control the small, seemingly insignificant things, he can easily puppet massive ones; such as, manipulating your perception of him collecting years worth of classified information of you. His words, he is a master of words. He picks his vocabulary and sentences structuring very carefully.

Before you even realize it, you're beating yourself up for being nosy and impolite instead. Or you might find his obsession with you is something normal and nothing to be upset about, so you drop the subject and drop your concerns. You've been brainwashed and you haven't had the slightest idea.

You might think you wouldn't fall for his mind games, and that is exactly what he wants you to think. Maybe you're a bit more humble and you know you're not immune to indoctrination. He would still want you to maintain that belief in yourself. Whatever you may think, it is beneficial to him.

No one calls him the reality bender for nothing, Yves' mind spins fast and you cannot keep up with him. He is always a mile's worth of steps ahead of you. It doesn't matter if he made mistakes, he is an adult, and can always clean up after himself.

But did he really make a mistake, though?

[blushblushbear]

DID A THING--

It's based on one of those scenario's I typed up the other day. Detective PC and secret killer Cole!

I don't know if I'm gonna write more of this (I'll probably do a second installment at some point) and though I'm gonna try and keep the writing vague, this is mostly based on my own player oc so specifications around them may come up whenever I continue (mostly them being female)

but for now enjoy the drabble! god I love detective shows

uhhhh, trigger warning murder mentions????

You watch tensely as another body is wheeled away under a white sheet, letting out a sigh as you look back at the crime scene-- the coroner's report and on scene forensics will be able to tell you time of death and circumstances of death, but you know you're still not going to find a lead.

This was the fifth one this month, and twelfth over all-- and you still haven't managed to find a lead. You finish up with the head officer on scene and tell him to call you if he finds anything. Knowing he won't, you pull away in your car, a headache already beginning to set in.

You march through the precinct like a rolling storm, file in hand. Out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar smug gleaming at you over the cup of coffee he's sipping, and you pick up the pace as your eyes roll.

"Well now, don't you look like you had a rough morning." Cole purrs as he leans forward in his desk chair, "Another photo for your collage I presume?"

"Not now, Cole." you snap back as you stride past him, holding up a hand.

You shut the door to your office, plopping the file down on your desk and slamming your hands down on the surface a frustrated groan.

You glanced up at the white board that was turned around for the comfort of anyone passing by, then back down at the file on your desk.

With a sigh you opened the folder, glancing over the on sight report as you walk over to the board and flip it.

On the opposite side, there's a spread of crime scene photos, reports and your own notes scattered across surface. You add the newest photos and report to the mix, using a sharpie hanging by a string from the side of the board to mark the date on the bottom of the photo.

Twelve cases in the last month and a half. All in within the same city. The killer always leaves a mess of a scene, but never any clues. No finger prints, no dna, no note-- Nothing.

You step back to look at the bigger picture, hoping maybe this time some kind of truth would reveal itself.

Maybe they're not all linked. Maybe there's more than one killer. Maybe--

A knock breaks your chain of thought.

"Come in." you absent mindedly call over your shoulder as your gaze stays fixed on the board.

The door creaks open and a smooth voice sends your eyes rolling again,

"Has anyone ever told you you look ravishing when you're lost in thought like that?"

You sigh.

"What do you want, Cole?" you say not looking his way. He likes to try his best to get under everyone's skin, but he always seems especially interested in getting under yours. It's not hard honestly-- he's a smug asshole with a know it all attitude and a handsome face that seems to be set exclusively to petty sneers. He forever seems disinterested in everyone and everything around him, but is also apparently constantly watching and paying the closet attention possible so he can know exactly what buttons to push when he needs something, or if he's just bored-- usually the second one.

"Just admiring this tasteful collection you've amassed." Him and his coffee of cup stride on in as he glances over your white board, "Very gruesome. You should submit it to a gallery."

"Cole," you rub your finger to your temple before finally looking his way, "Did you actually need something or are you just here to be a nuisance?"

"Oh no, I didn't need anything." he chuckles taking a sip of coffee. Before you can begin the yelling he says, "but the chief did want to see you."

Your expression melts from anger to worry, and Cole's smirk widens a little more as he watches,

"Wait-- what does the chief wanna see me for?"