#planning on making Graham too at some point

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: the final holiday fic! i always love doing a svech family moment and this was beyond fun to write 🥰 and with that, i’ll be quiet on the fic front since i’m a little wiped out lmao. thank you guys for always being so awesome and have a fabulous holiday!! 🤍

word count: 2.2k

tw: domestic fluff

summary: getting all five kids to work together on one project always makes for a memorable afternoon

Andrei drops the grocery bags on the counter, ruffling the recipe printouts with the little gust of air. “I think this is last of it,” he says, frowning as he digs through the bags.

You look up from the notepad you’re scribbling a list on and poke your pen into one of the handles to tug it down. “Oh, good, you got the regular honey Teddy Grahams. The last time we made these, I accidentally bought cinnamon and I thought Al was going to stab me,” you say dryly.

“We don’t want that,” Andrei laughs and kisses the top of your head. He starts unpacking the bags, lining all the ingredients up on the counter. You tick each item off your list as it appears, sighing in relief when everything is marked off.

“Okay, we’ve got all the ingredients for all the cookies,” you sigh, looking up at your husband. “Remind me again why I thought a baking day with all five kids was a good idea?”

Andrei grins and puts two cartons of eggs into the fridge. “Because you’re the best mom,” he replies. “And you want all the babies happy.”

“I’m not a baby!” Dimitri comes stomping into the kitchen. “I’m six!”

He’s wearing a miniature helmet and carrying a mini stick, whacking at the baseboards as he goes. You pin him with a glare, because he knows he’s only allowed to hit the foam pucks or balls with the stick and only in the basement. He looks a little sheepish and holds the stick behind his back.

Andrei leans down to pinch his cheek. “We know you are not a baby, Dimka,” he says, trying to hide his laugh.

“But you’re our baby, always,” you finish. “Evie’s still our baby, even though she’s twelve.”

“Evie’s too bossy to be a baby,” Dimitri grumbles, rushing at Andrei’s legs. Andrei jumps out of the way, laughing, and catches the boy around the waist to pretend fight him. Childish giggles fill the room as they go, knocking into the counters and chairs.

The commotion attracts the rest of your kids and they appear in the kitchen one by one. Alina and Kira appear together, your youngest daughter’s face covered in glitter for some inexplicable reason. You’re not in the mood to question it, but you do wince at the trail of glitter that she leaves in her wake. Alina immediately jumps into the chaos with Andrei and Dimitri, giggling as she distracts Andrei for Dimitri to get a few good whacks in at his legs.

“Mom,” Kira climbs up onto your lap, getting glitter everywhere. “Can I get my letter to Santa back? I wanna add something.”

You internally cringe. It’s a week before Christmas and you finally had the kids send off their letters to Santa a few days ago because he “needs time to make the presents!” and you need time to make sure you got the stuff that was most important off their lists.

A last minute change up could throw a wrench in your carefully plotted and executed plans.

“We sent off the letters, baby,” you remind her, brushing glitter from her eyebrows. “What did you want to add?”

“Oh,” she shrugs and hops off your lap, “I’ll just tell Canes and he’ll tell Santa.”

She disappears into the mess of husband and kids, which now includes Maks, who snuck in at some point when you were talking to Kira.

You try and muffle a groan with your hand. If Kira tells her latest gift wish to Canes - the Elf on a Shelf named for both your husband’s hockey team and candy canes, you’re actually pretty impressed with Evie and Alina for coming up with that one - you’re screwed since the hunk of plastic and stuffing obviously can’t speak.

Somehow, you’re going to have to figure out what’s going on in your middle kid’s brain. You’ll get Andrei and Evie on the case too.

Speaking of, your oldest wanders into the kitchen. She’s tying an apron around her waist, looking at you seriously. “Mom,” she plants her hands on the kitchen table and leans in, “we need to get baking! If we’re going to make cookie boxes for everyone, we’re already behind.”

Your little taskmaster.

You smile at her and tuck a strand of dark blonde hair back into her braid. “Bunny, Dad just got home from the grocery store. We’re going to get started any minute.”

“They don’t look like they’re ready to start,” Evie side-eyes her dad and siblings, frowning.

“They’ll fall in line,” you promise, standing up and tugging at her braid. “Let’s get everything set up in stations, okay? That’ll help.”

Evie doesn’t look like she quite believes you, but she attaches herself to your side and sorts the ingredients by recipe, using all the counter space and the island. When she and Alina had first decided they wanted to do cookies boxes for all of your friends and family, you’d been hesitant to add another heavy lift to your holiday to-do list. Especially when each kid - and Andrei - had insisted on picking their favorite cookie for the box, making it a little more complicated to coordinate at least six different recipes.

Evie had requested gingerbread, the soft kind not the hard kind because the hard kind is gross.

Alina was all in on the most tedious of “cookies” to put together - puff pastry with chocolate and a Teddy Graham made to look like the little bear shaped cookie was sleeping. Your most chaotic child with the most involved project.

You’d had to talk Kira out of the peanut butter cookies she insisted on - reminding her of the peanut allergies that some of your friends’ kids had. She’d compromised on sugar cookies rolled and shaped to look like candy canes.

The boys were easier. Maks insisted on chocolate chip cookies with “lots and lots of chcocolate” and Dimitri wanted the almond snowball cookies you’d made a few times before because he liked how much the powedered sugar puffed out when you accidentally exhaled when eating them.

Andrei had grinned at you as the kids listed out their cookie requests and you’d pinned him with a glare, murmuring, “if you pick something difficult, I’ll never let you in my pants again, I swear to god.”

He’d taken pity on you and picked a relatively simple lemon ginger cookie that you could make in your sleep.

Now, Evie commandeers the kitchen, pointing each of her siblings to a job. They fall in line relatively quickly and without complaint, but you’re sure they’ll get tired soon enough and rebel. For now, you tell Alexa to play a Christmas song mix and get the kids dancing as they help.

Andrei presses a kiss to your cheek, murmuring, “is it normal if I am afraid of our daughter?”

You giggle, Evie really is terrifying when she gets her mind set on something. She plants her hands on her hips and tells Maks he’s pouring the chocolate chips wrong and you have to swoop in before he starts to cry.

“Yes,” you agree quietly. “Totally normal because I am too.”

You pass Maks off to Andrei and your husband swings the five-year-old up onto his shoulders to keep him out from underfoot. He laughs and immediately grabs onto Andrei’s hair, “Dad! It’s like Remy, I’m Remy and you’re Lin-linweenie!”

A laugh bubbles out of your chest at Maks’s mispronunciation. Andrei grins at you and reaches up to tickle Maks’s side. He agrees with your youngest child and goes along with the game, listening as Maks directs him on what to do and correcting every time Maks gives him the wrong direction. You take a few minutes to really appreciate the way Andrei’s back and shoulder muscles move as he works.

He winks at you when he catches you watching.

You work with Dimitri on the snowball cookies, choking briefly on the cloud of powdered sugar he accidentally unleashes from the bag.

“Sorry, Mommy!” he yelps, looking concerned.

“I’m okay, baby,” you choke out, ruffling his hair while you cough into your shoulder. The cloud of sugar hangs slightly in the air and you know it’s going to settle into every crevice of the kitchen.

That’s a problem for a later time.

The girls manage to work together on their dough with minimal drama - of course you get the whine that Evie is bossy and Alina is messy and Kira is getting sprinkles everywhere even though there’s no sprinkles in the recipe. But for the most part, they’re working together nicely, which makes your mom heart really proud.

Like you predicted, they scatter to the wind after a few hours. Alina is the first to go, disappearing with a skip and a grin. Kira follows next, dragging Dimitri with her.

Maks is slumped over Andrei’s head, little hands on Andrei’s cheeks, and you know he has to be getting tired of holding the baby on his shoulders. But Andrei doesn’t say anything, continuing his job of scooping cookie dough out onto the baking sheets while telling Maks some kind of story. It’s really adorable.

Eventually Maks complains and wants to be let down, so Andrei swings him over his head. “There you go, Maks,” he says, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Maks slaps Andrei’s hand in a high-five, which is his latest move when saying hello or goodbye, and runs off into the den, screaming about wanting to watch Remy. The fact that he’s so obsessed with Ratatoille is cute, but you wish it had been a better movie for him to want to watch over and over.

“Dad and I can handle the rest, Eve,” you say to your last child standing. She’s carefully placing the gingerbread cookies an equal distance apart on the baking trays, tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth.

Andrei scoops a bit of raw cookie dough from the bowl and pops it in his mouth. “Yeah, zaychik, now is boring part. Putting trays in and out of oven,” he says, eyeing you in a way you know means he wants some alone time after the chaos of the last few hours with the kids.

“Promise you won’t let them burn?” She turns to face you both. “And you’ll call me when we can decorate?”

“Yes and yes,” you promise, kissing her forehead and brushing a smudge of flour from her cheek. “Go, have fun. Dad and I will handle it. You did such a great job keeping the troops in order.”

She beams at the praise and unties her apron, tossing it over a chair. “I’m going to make cards for all the boxes, okay?” Evie darts off before you can answer and then suddenly, the kitchen is quiet. Your ears are ringing slightly, but you can feel your shoulders relax.

It must show on your face, your relief at the quiet, because Andrei chuckles and opens his arms for you to step into a hug. You bury your face into his chest and inhale the mix of vanilla extract and cologne that’s seeped into his henley.

“I love them,” Andrei chuckles, voice vibrating through your chest. “But they are very loud.”

“Mhm,” you hum in agreement, lifting your face to rest your chin on his chest and look up at him. “But they’re really cute too, right, Linweenie?”

Andrei grins wider, showing off his dimples. “Very cute,” he replies, craning his neck to kiss you quickly.

You hum into the kiss, grinning when Andrei’s hands slip to your ass, squeezing. “You taste like chocolate,” you mumble against his mouth. “Sneaking all that dough is going to make you sick.”

“But who will make sure cookies are good enough for everyone?” Andrei asks cheekily, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, so you’re quality control?” You tease, pulling away from his embrace so you can start loading the trays into the pre-heated ovens.

Andrei scratches at the few days’ growth of stubble on his face and hands you another tray. “Is a risk I’m willing to take,” he says, tone full of faux modesty.

“Our hero,” you joke back, stepping into his personal space again and reaching up to play with the buttons at the top of his henley. “Meanwhile, Kiry mentioned wanting to add something to her letter to Santa, but wouldn’t tell me what. She’s going to tell

Canes.”

Andrei rolls his eyes at the name of the Elf, the whole concept strange and silly to him. But he goes along with it for the kids’ sake.

“I need you to be stealth and figure out what it is,” you continue. “If it’s something small, we make it happen and keep the magic of Santa alive for a little bit longer for her.”

Your husband nods, eyes twinkling in a way that tells you he’s going to go above and beyond to make Kira’s list addition happen, no matter what it is. He’s always gone above and beyond to be the best dad and husband, making magic for your kids every day.

You love him all the more for it.

“Daddy!” Kira’s shout echos through the kitchen. “Come play mini sticks, Alina quit cause she’s losing.”

“Am not!” Alina shrieks.

You laugh and scratch your nails through his stubble. “Go, play mini sticks. I’ve got this,” you tell him.

His kisses you quickly again before jogging off to the den, calling out, “Dad versus kids!”

Their chatter starts almost immediately and you lean against the counter, Christmas music playing and the scent of gingerbread in the air, tired but so in love with your husband and kids.

[crocswithoutsocks]

I found out there was an anteater LPS so obviously the only logical thing to do was go and buy one immediately and make it into Flint. My phone hates me so pictures are bad but look!!!!! That's a little guy!!!!!

[cowboybeepboop]

Hidden Passion

"I don't think I'm ever gonna forget this night, darlin'. You've been drivin' me crazy for way too damn long."

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5200

Summary: Kate invites you along to the group's camping trip and you’ve decided you finally have had enough of Scott’s indifference to you.

Warnings: p in v sex, semi public, unprotected sex, jealous Scott bc I like him jealous

A/n: I’m having fun with all the twisters smut 😭 hopefully you all enjoy. At some point I’m gonna write some more top gun maverick stuff. But as always, let me know if you have any ideas/requests for me 🤗

Boone is your twin brother, which means that you spend all of your time following him and his friends around. Because you’re the ‘responsible’ twin and mostly because his friends really know how to have fun.

Regardless, Boone has been extra careful bringing you around because he’s under the impression that you have a thing for Tyler. So of course when Kate invited you along to their camping trip you just knew you were going to get on his nerves by flirting with the cowboy.

Your brother was right about one thing: you do have a crush on one of his friends. Who just so happens to be the biggest asshole out of them all. Scott. So it's a win-win situation, you can piss Boone off and see if Scott even gives a shit. Even though you know Scott only came along because Javi is trying to get with Kate.

You’re sitting across from the fire with your knee touching Tyler’s, a small smile on your face as you notice your brothers stare. You could tell already that Boone was dreading having you there, but that was part of the reason you wanted to go in the first place. To piss him off.

Scott is sat off to the side with Javi and Kate, he’s drinking a beer with his usual scowl on his face. ”Hey, wanna make some s’mores?” Your cheerful voice rings out through the night air.

Scott’s scowl deepens as he hears your sweet tone, and seeing you talking to Tyler does nothing to improve his mood. He takes a long sip from his beer, trying to quell the growing irritation in his chest.

The rest of the group has mixed reactions but Tyler grabs a stick and puts a marshmallow at the end. “Do you want me to roast it for you darlin’?” You grin up at him.

“Yes, I’d like that.” You rest your head on his shoulder as you watch the flames.

As he watches Tyler roast a marshmallow for you, Scott's jaw tightens. He mutters under his breath, "Darlin'....what a load of bullshit." Your eyes flicker over to Scott and you give him a small smile.

Scott catches your smile and huffs in response, his expression remaining grumpy. He tries to ignore you, taking another sip from his beer, but he can't shake off the irritation that's bubbling up within him.

He glances back at you, noticing you're still talking to Tyler, the marshmallow still roasting in his hand. Scott's grip tightens around his beer bottle, trying to keep his anger in check.

You lean over Tylers lap reaching for the graham crackers and a chocolate bar. Tyler’s free hand goes to your lower back as you hover over him. “Wow there darlin’ be careful.” He chuckles as you find yourself on the log again, the cracker and chocolate prepared for the hot marshmallow.

Scott's eyes narrow as he sees Tyler's hand go to your lower back. His grip on the beer bottle tightens even more, his knuckles turning white. The sight of you leaning over Tyler's lap ignites a fire of jealousy within him.

Your brother's glare bores a hole into the back of your head, his arms crossing over chest. “He’s kind of scary when he’s mad like that,” you whisper to Tyler as he completes the s’more.

“Seems like your plan is back firing on you,” he replies with a smirk, handing the treat your way. You nod as you take a bite of the dessert, a smear of chocolate left on your bottom lip.

Tylers smirk grows wider as his eyes flick to your lip, his thumb moving to swipe the chocolate away. Scott's scowl deepens as he watches Tyler smirk and the way he swipes the chocolate away from your lip. He can feel the anger boiling within him, his grip on the beer bottle almost painful now.

Boone however wasn’t going to sit by and watch you two flirt all night, he gently grabs your arm pulling you away. “What are you doing?” Boone sits you down in between Scott and Javi.

“Stay there.” Your brother commands you like a dog, earning a grin from you.

“I’ve gotten banished,” you say to Javi, nudging his arm with your elbow, turning to Scott to smile at him. He's still fuming over the interaction with Tyler, but your presence next to him has a way of lessening his irritation, even if just a little bit.

Scott takes another gulp of his beer, trying to ignore the jealousy that's still gnawing at him. Javi laughs, "Banished, huh? Can't say I'm surprised." You giggle in response.

“Well in my defense I never thought Boone would get so bothered.” Javi shakes his head with a bright smile.

The night drags on, and the group slowly disperses into their tents, leaving just you, Scott, and the crackling fire in the center of the campsite. You’re both a few drinks deep at this point, and the alcohol has done little to quell Scott’s sour mood.

He glances at you sitting across from him as he takes another swig from his beer. The fire casts a warm glow on your face, and despite his best efforts, Scott can't help but find you somewhat attractive even in the dim lighting.

”Scott?” You murmur his name. Scott looks up as you speak his name, his eyes focusing on your face. He tries to keep his expression neutral, hiding the slight hitch in his breath at the sound of your voice.

"Yeah?" Scott replies, his tone gruff, as he raises an eyebrow in your direction. Scott watches you move closer to him, his eyes tracing the movement of your body. He tries to ignore the way his heart rate picks up at your proximity.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” You reach for his half empty bottle, he tightens his grip on the beer bottle as you reach for it.

"Why, tryin' to cut me off?" Scott asks, his voice a mixture of defensiveness and irritation.

”Maybe,” you huff, still trying to steal his bottle, “why won't you let go.” Scott stubbornly tightens his grip on the beer bottle as you reach for it again. He can feel the heat from your body sitting next to him, and his heart rate quickens at your proximity.

Scott grunts in frustration, "Damn it, just leave it alone," he snaps, his voice betraying his rising irritation. You flinch away crossing your arms under your chest.

“Okay, fine, whatever.” You grumble. Scott notices your reaction and internally scowls at himself for snapping at you. Seeing you pout and cross your arms ignites a strange mixture of frustration and guilt within him.

He takes a deep breath as he watches you sulk, trying to calm his irritation. "Look, I'm...," he starts, his voice gruff, "I didn't mean to snap at you like that." You steal the bottle away successfully.

“I know, that’s why I’m trying to cut you off.” You smile triumphantly, wrapping your fingers around the bottle. “You’re even more of a grump than usual.”

He bristles at your comment about him being a grump, but he can't deny the truth in your words. "I'm always a grump," he retorts, begrudgingly, "especially when I'm around you."

You finish off his drink, swiping at your lips as you give him the empty beer bottle. “What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Scott watches as you finish off the beer and swipe your lips with your fingertips. He can't help but notice the way your actions send a jolt of desire through him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, "I mean that you always seem to rile me up, in one way or another." His statement confuses you.

“Scott, how do I rile you up?’” You’re offended by his words, “Are you saying I piss you off?” Scott rolls his eyes at your question, the alcohol making it harder to suppress his true feelings.

He lets out a scoff, "No, no, not piss me off," he grumbles. "You...you just...get under my skin," he admits begrudgingly. You scoot closer to him on the log, the alcohol you’ve consumed through the night giving you confidence.

“Under your skin how?” You narrow your eyes at him, Scott lets out a growl of frustration as you move closer to him on the log. He can feel the warmth of your body radiating towards him, and it's driving him crazy.

He looks at you as you narrow your eyes at him, and he's hit with the urge to pull you even closer, to run his hands over your body, to taste the alcohol on your lips.

He grits his teeth, trying to control his thoughts as he responds. "You just...always seem to do things that get a rise out of me," he admits through clenched teeth.

”You’re saying a whole lot of nothing Scottie.” Your voice is stern. Scott's irritation sparks at your firm tone of voice, but it's overpowered by the way his heart skips a beat hearing his nickname leave your lips.

He huffs in frustration, running a hand through his messy hair. "You just...you're always so damn cheerful and friendly, goddamnit," he mutters, the alcohol loosening his tongue.

”There’s nothing wrong with being friendly” Scott scowls at your words, his frustration growing as he tries, and fails, to articulate his feelings. He knows there's nothing wrong with being friendly, but your friendliness always seems to make his heart race.

"I know that..." he mutters irritably, his eyes scanning your face as he tries to find a way to explain his tumultuous feelings. You set your hand on his knee as you move even closer to him.

“Scott?” You sigh, still not understanding what he’s meaning, maybe it's the booze or his lack of proper communication.

Scott's heart leaps at the touch of your hand on his knee, a jolt of electricity coursing through him. He can feel the heat of your body next to his, and it takes everything in him to maintain his resolve.

At the sound of his name on your lips, he groans, "Goddamnit, stop sayin' my name like that."

“Like what, Scottie?” You tease, Scott's heart flutters at the sound of you saying his nickname again, his frustration mixing with a surge of desire.

He mutters under his breath, "There it is again," he replies gruffly, his tone a mix of irritation and something deeper. "You say my name like it's a damn melody, and it drives me crazy."

A playful smirk places itself on your lips as you lean forward pressing your palms onto his thighs, your face inches away from his. Scott's breath catches in his chest as you lean forward, your palms on his thighs sending a wave of heat through his body.

He can feel the warmth of your breath on his face, and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to close the distance between you and capture your lips with his. He swallows hard, trying to keep his composure. "What are you doing?" he manages to ask, his voice a hoarse whisper.

”I just wanted to get a closer look,” your smirk grows as you watch his expression. Scott's heart races at your proximity, his breath coming in short gasps. He can feel the heat of your gaze on his face, your smirk driving him crazy, and all he wants to do is pull you into his lap and taste those lips.

He grits his teeth, struggling to keep his cool. "And what exactly are you looking for?" he asks huskily, his eyes locked on yours.

“I think I see a little bit of a blush on your cheek.” Scott's heart skips a beat as you touch his cheek, your fingertips tracing the outline of his cheekbone. He swallows loudly, trying to maintain his composure as your touch sends shivers of desire coursing through him.

He can feel his face growing hotter beneath your touch, and he knows his blush is becoming more prominent. "Shut up," he grumbles, stubbornly trying to deny the effect you're having on him.

“Don’t be like that, it's cute” Scott's breath hitches in his chest as you pull your body against his, your thighs pressing against his knees. He can feel the heat of your touch searing through him, igniting a fire within him.

He scowls at your words, his face growing hotter with each passing moment. "Cute?" he mutters, refusing to admit how desperately he craves your touch. You sigh with the realization that you’re gonna have to make the first move.

“Scott.. Close your eyes for a second.” Scott's eyebrows furrow in confusion as you instruct him to close his eyes. He hesitates for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, but he complies, his eyelids slowly closing.

As he sits there, his eyes shut, he can feel his other senses heightened, attuned to every sound and every movement. "What now?" he asks, his voice a gruff whisper.

You cup his cheek, “Keep them closed, okay?” Your breath fans across his face as you lean in. He nods slightly in response, his eyes still firmly shut, his other senses hyper aware of your proximity.

He can feel the heat of your body against his, and his every instinct urges him to pull you even closer, but he remains still, waiting for your next move. You press a soft kiss to his lips, your other hand sliding up his thigh as you move closer.

Scott's heart nearly stops when your lips press against his, a jolt of desire coursing through him. He can feel your hand moving up his thigh, and the sensations sent his mind reeling.

He responds to your kiss, his hand coming up to gently cup the back of your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your jawline. You pull your lips away, your eyes scanning the expression on his face.

Scott's eyes slowly flutter open, his mind swirling with desire and need. He gazes at you, his eyes dark with emotion. He swallows hard, his chest heaving as he tries to regain his composure. "Why..." he starts, his voice low and gruff, "why'd you do that?"

”Why not?” You murmur, leaning in for another kiss. Scott's breath catches in his chest as you lean in for another kiss, his body responding vehemently to your touch.

He allows himself to be consumed by the kiss, his hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you onto his lap. It becomes more heated as you push your chest against his own, arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Scott groans loudly in response to your actions, the feeling of your body pressed against his and your fingers in his hair sending shivers down his spine.

His hands roam over your body, wanting to feel every inch of you. He deepens the kiss, his tongue expertly exploring your mouth, tasting the mixture of alcohol and sweetness.

You moan into his mouth at the roughness of his hands against your skin, “Scott, we should go to a tent…” you shiver at the cold air, “It’s getting cold,” Scott reluctantly breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged, his body aching with desire.

He nods in agreement, his mind clouded with lust, desperate to get you somewhere private. "Yeah..." he mutters, his hands still touching your body, almost reluctantly letting you slide off his lap. "Let's go."

You lead him to your tent, your hand comfortably holding his. You unzip the tent and slip inside, pulling off your boots as you sit on the air mattress that you forced your brother to set up.

Scott follows you into the tent, his heart pounding in his chest as the reality of the situation hits him. He watches you kick off your boots and sit down on the air mattress, his eyes scanning your figure in the dim light of the tent.

He closes the tent behind him, zipping it up, and sits down next to you, his body inches away from yours. You smile up at him, the flush of his cheeks darker than before. “You’re so cute Scott,” Scott's heart skips a beat at your words, his cheeks growing even hotter under your gaze.

He huffs in feigned irritation, trying to hide the effect you have on him. "Shut up," he mutters, trying to sound gruff and annoyed, but the hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

”Would you prefer being called handsome?” You tease, your hands reaching out to roam his body. Scott's breath catches in his chest as your hands move over his body, his heart racing in his chest.

He tries to maintain a cool exterior, but the way your touch ignites a fire within him is impossible to ignore. He scoffs, a mixture of annoyance and desire in his voice. "Handsome, cute, it's all the same damn thing," he mutters, trying to remain unaffected by your touch.

”But you love it, don’t you?” You mumble against his ear as you settle into his lap once again. Scott's breath hitches as you settle into his lap, your breath brushing against his ear. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, his body practically buzzing with desire.

He growls in response to your words, his hands tracing the curve of your hips. "Damnit," he mutters, his voice a gruff whisper, "You know I do." You respond by kissing him. More passionate than before, your eyes flutter shut as he slips his tongue in your mouth.

Scott groans lowly in response to your passionate kiss, his hands gripping your hips almost possessively. He matches the intensity of the kiss, his tongue tanging with yours in a heated dance.

He pulls you flush against his chest, wanting to eliminate the space between you, the feeling of your body against his nearly driving him mad with desire. You lean against him pushing his back against the bed, hovering over him as you pull away from his lips, asking for air.

Scott's breath hitches as you push him back against the bed, your body hovering over him, dominating his every sense. He gazes up at you, his eyes dark with desire, his chest heaving with each breath he draws.

He reaches up, his hands finding your hips once again, desperately holding on as if he's afraid you might disappear. "You're killing me, you know that right?" he mutters, his voice rough with need.

”Then why don’t you do something about it?” You tease, you voice low and sultry. Scott's eyes darken at your words, a low growl escaping his lips. He flips you over, pinning you beneath him, his body pressed firmly against yours.

He gazes down at you, his eyes locked on yours, his voice a gruff whisper. "Be careful what you wish for, darlin'" he mutters, his lips hovering millimeters from your own. You arch up against his body, pressing your lips to his hungrily.

Scott's breath hitches in his chest at the feel of your body arching against his, the need coursing through him becoming nearly unbearable.

He kisses you back with equal fervor, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. His hands roam over your body, desperate to memorize every contour of your curves. Your arms wrap around his torso pulling him closer to you, your fingers pressing against his back.

Scott groans loudly at the feeling of your arms around him, your fingers tracing patterns against his back, sending shivers down his spine. He presses his body against yours, his desire and need for you escalating with each passing moment.

His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly, his lips moving down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake. You arch your back, gasping at the sensation of Scott's kisses along your collarbone, your body responding to his touch with eager anticipation.

His hands glide under your shirt, his rough fingertips tracing the sensitive skin of your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the tension in the air thicken, the electricity between you growing more intense with every passing second.

The sound of fabric rustling fills the tent as you both fumble with the buttons and zippers of your clothes, desperate to feel each other's skin against your own. Scott's eyes never leave yours, the raw desire in them leaving no room for doubt about what he wants, what you both want.

As the last barrier falls away, your bodies finally align in a dance of passion that's been building for what feels like an eternity, the cool night air forgotten against the heat of your union.

Scott's eyes darken even further as he takes in the sight of your exposed skin, his desire to taste and pleasure you becoming an all-consuming need. He shifts his position, sliding down your body, his hands firmly on your thighs as he spreads your legs wider.

You gasp as his mouth descends upon your pussy, his tongue eagerly flicking against your clit, teasing and exploring your folds with a hunger that's both thrilling and overwhelming. His movements are unbridled, driven by a passion that's been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long.

Each stroke, each lick, sends waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making you quiver and moan beneath him. You grip the blankets tightly, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as he devours you, the heat of his mouth a stark contrast to the coolness of the tent's interior.

His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze only serving to heighten the intimacy of the moment. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tightening with every flick of his tongue, and you know that this night is going to change everything between you.

As Scott's mouth continues its relentless assault on your sensitive flesh, you can't help but let out a series of muffled cries, biting down on the fabric of your shirt bunched in your hand to stifle the sounds of your pleasure. Your body tenses, your legs quivering as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crash over you. You clench your eyes shut, trying to hold on to the last shreds of your self-control, but it's no use.

With a final, desperate whimper, your climax takes you, your back arching off the mattress as your hips buck against his face. He doesn't relent, though, his tongue still working its magic as you ride out the intense sensations that grip you, the fabric of your shirt now damp with your efforts to remain silent.

When the tremors finally subside, you collapse back onto the bed, your chest heaving with the force of your gasps for air. Scott kisses his way back up your body, a smug smile playing on his lips as he claims your mouth once more, tasting the sweetness of your release.

The sound of your muffled moans only spurs him on, his own need for you growing with every second that passes. He can feel his cock straining, demanding release, but he's in no rush. For now, he's content to bask in the aftermath of your pleasure, knowing that the night has only just begun.

Scott lays down on the air mattress, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulls you on top of him, a silent invitation for you to take the lead. The feel of his hardened cock pressing against your still-sensitive core sends a fresh wave of desire through you, making your own need for him even more urgent.

You straddle him, the warmth of his skin against yours sending shivers down your spine as you line yourself up with his length. With a look of pure determination in your eyes, you slowly lower yourself onto him, feeling every inch of him fill you up. A low moan escapes your lips as you adjust to the feeling of him inside you, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a mix of passion and challenge.

You begin to rock your hips, setting a slow and steady rhythm that has you both panting within moments. His hands grip your waist, guiding you as you move, his fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild.

Each movement sends a delicious friction through your body, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge again. Scott's eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive as you both succumb to the passion that's been brewing between you for so long.

Scott's quietude breaks as he becomes increasingly vocal with every sway of your hips, his breaths hitching in his throat as he watches you take control. His hands glide from your waist to your breasts, kneading them gently, his thumbs circling your hardened nipples in time with your movements.

His voice is low and gruff, a series of grunts and moans that seem to be ripped from the very depths of his soul, a primal response to the pleasure you're giving him. You lean into his touch, your own breaths coming in short gasps as you rock against him, the friction building into a crescendo of desire.

The sound of your bodies moving together fills the tent, the only music to accompany the symphony of your ragged breaths and moans. The feel of his strong hands on your body, the way he watches you with such raw hunger, it's all too much, and you know you're about to shatter once more.

You lean forward, pressing your palms into his chest, using it as leverage to drive yourself down harder onto him, the intensity of your movements growing with every stroke. His eyes never leave yours, the challenge in his gaze only making you want to push him further, to make him lose control in the way you're so close to doing. The world outside the tent fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the throes of passion and desire.

Your moans sync perfectly with Scott's, rising and falling in tandem as your bodies move together in a timeless rhythm. You feel your orgasm building again, a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. His eyes, still locked on yours, grow darker, his pupils dilating with the approaching storm of ecstasy.

You lean in, capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss as you quicken your pace, the need to feel him come apart in your arms driving you on. His hands tighten on your hips, urging you faster, his own hips bucking up to meet your movements.

The air in the tent grows thick with desire, the only sounds the slapping of your bodies and the muffled cries escaping from your mouths. And then, with one final, shuddering thrust, it hits you both. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body, making you tremble and clench around him.

Scott's grip on you tightens, his cock pulsing as he releases deep inside you , his own moan of pleasure melding with yours. The world outside the tent seems to fall away as you ride out the intense waves of your shared climax, your hearts beating as one, your bodies intertwined in a dance of pure, unfiltered passion.

When the storm finally subsides, you collapse against him, your breaths mingling as you both try to catch your breath, the tremors of pleasure still echoing through you. You can feel his heart racing beneath your cheek, a testament to the depth of his own release.

The silence that follows is filled with an understanding that transcends words, a bond forged in the heat of the moment that you know will never truly be broken.

You lay your head against his chest, breathing in his musk. Scott's breathing is ragged as he tries to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intensity of the moment you just shared. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, his body still buzzing with the aftermath of his climax.

He rests his cheek against the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against your back, his mind struggling to form coherent thoughts. "That..." he finally manages to mutter, his voice hoarse and gravelly, "that was something else."

You smile as you cuddle closer to him, basking in his body heat. “We should do that again some time.” You giggle softly. Scott lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Damn right we should," he mutters, his arms holding you closer against his body.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he speaks again. "I don't think I'm ever gonna forget this night, darlin'. You've been drivin' me crazy for way too damn long."

”Have I?” You tease as your eyes flutter shut. Scott lets out a huff at your teasing tone, his arms tightening around you.

"You know you have," he mutters gruffly, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck once again. "You and your damn adorable smile, and your beautiful eyes, and your infuriatingly cute laugh..."

He trails off, his voice growing huskier as he continues to list off your desirable qualities. A blush paints your face as you bask in his compliments. “I didn’t know that you thought so highly of me.” You press gentle kisses into his muscles.

Scott lets out a low hum of pleasure at the feel of your kisses against his muscles, his body already responding to your touch.

"How could I not?" he mutters, his voice gruff and sincere. "You're goddamn perfect, darlin'. Smart, beautiful, kind, funny...the list goes on and on." You bury your face into the crook of his neck, flustered by his words.

“Okay, okay. I think that’s enough now Scott…” your cheeks feel hot against his warm skin.

Scott lets out a low chuckle, feeling your flustered reaction against his neck.

"Awh, you're blushing," he teases, his hands roaming up and down your back. "And here I was just getting started..." He grins, enjoying seeing you flustered by his compliments.

But he acquiesces, not wanting to embarrass you further. He gently pulls your face back, so he can see your expression. You press a kiss against his lips, your eyes falling heavy as exhaustion comes over you in a wave.

Scott returns the kiss, his lips lingering against yours for a moment. He can feel your body growing heavy against his, your exhaustion evident.

He pulls you even closer, your head resting on his chest, his arms wrapping around you. "Let’s sleep, darlin'," he mutters softly, his voice gruff but caring. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Will Graham X Reader: Academic validation

Warnings: smut, switch reader x switch will, use of pet names (darling, baby), drinking, fluff, making out, penetration (p in v), cowgirl, oral (f receiving), handjob, female anatomy, gender neutral reader no use of y/n.

Word Count: 2,5K

You really should be paying attention to the lecture. And boy were you trying to but his fucking hands. His fucking hands were driving you insane. Every time he fidgeted with them as he spoke or used them to point out a particular aspect of the crime he was analyzing you found yourself distracted.

It wasn’t hard to have a crush on Will. He was an attractive guy. An attractive slightly older guy who passed off a sort of touch starved vibe. You had a thing for guys like that. The only problem was that he was your teacher. All though you didn’t think that should matter. You were an adult who was capable of making your own choices and so was Will. The real issue was the way that your little crush had started affecting your learning. You tried to pay attention to what Will was saying but as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips you could help but think of kissing him. You were so deep in thought you didn't notice him finish his lecture. And you didn’t notice as your colleagues shuffled out of the classroom. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone calling your name. Your eyes found Will's frame. He was sitting on top of his desk, eyes locked onto you. You stared at him in silence.

“You okay?”

His brows furrowed in worry as he continued to observe you. Gosh he was cute like this. You shook your head letting out a small laugh.

“Yeah. Sorry Mr.Graham must have gotten caught up in my own head.”

“Will’s fine.”

“Sorry what?”

“Oh uh you can just call me Will.”

“Oh okay Will. I’ll get out of your hair.”

You picked up your textbook, shoving it in your bag before moving down the steps towards Will's desk. You gave him a small smile as you made your way to the door.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

His question made you freeze. You turned around so that you were facing him. His hands were pushed up against his desk drawing attention to his muscles. You bit the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to focus on his face.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just noticed you haven’t been yourself lately. You usually participate a lot in class. But you’ve been really quiet this past week. It got me wondering.”

“Can i be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days and I'm having trouble keeping up in class. I didn't want to say anything because I know what everyone will say.”

“What will they say?”

“That I'm not cut out for this.”

Will let out an understanding hum. He pushed his body off the desk, turning his back to you as he made his way to his chair. You watched him, taking in how his body moved.  On instinct you found yourself moving towards his desk. It was as if there was some invisible force pulling you to him. 

“When I started teaching people thought I wasn't gonna last a week. They thought I was too odd. Too sensitive to handle a classroom dynamic. Do you know what I did?”

You shake your head. 

“I proved them wrong.”

Will grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. A moment of silence passed over the room. Will was deep in thought. You could tell just by looking at him. You thought of going on your way but before you could move Will started to speak once more.

“Show me what you’re having a hard time with.”

“Oh no, I couldn't possibly do that. You have to go home and i-”

“Do you have plans?”

You didn’t, not unless you count eating dinner alone and watching a movie before bed as plans. 

“You’re sure I won't be a bother?”

“Not at all. Believe it or not I actually enjoy teaching. Could you just do me a favor first?”

“Yeah sure, what do you need?”

“Close the door will you?”

You placed your bag on Will’s desk before walking to the door. You stuck your head out looking at the empty hall. You shut the door carefully before turning around. Your eyes fell on Will's frame. He was sitting on his desk, his hand slicking back his hair as he waited for you.

You were stuck in a room with Will Graham. 

What had you gotten yourself into?

It turns out there was a lot more you’d missed then you had anticipated. Will didn’t seem to mind though. He went over every case you didn’t remember and never judged you for missing any clues. Even if they were kind of obvious. After a while the two of you drifted into other topics. You told Will about your life and he shared stories of his dogs. At some point Will had pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his desk and everything seemed to go downhill from there.

You were currently sitting on the floor desperately trying to breathe in between laughs. Will had just told you about the time Winston had run away and gotten sprayed by a skunk. 

“ I couldn't get the smell out of the house for a week. And the other dogs didn’t want to go near him. They treated him like he was contagious.”

“You’re kidding!” “I swear!” 

The sound of yours and Will's laugh filled the room again. He let out a deep sigh, finally managing to regain his breath. When you met his gaze he had a smile plastered on his face.

“What is it?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just been a while since I've done something like this.”

“What, gotten drunk in a classroom?”

“Had a fun time with someone.”

Your stomach did a flip at Will's words. You knew he wasn’t a typically social guy but you imagined he had friends. You’d seen him talking to Dr.Bloom a couple of times and couldn’t help but notice how he looked at him.

It was the same way you looked at him. 

“Hey.”

Will placed his hand on yours leaning his head to the side.

“Did I say something?”

“No. Sorry. Just having a hard time believing you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nevermind. I should get going. It's getting late.”

You rose from the ground. Will mirrored your movements, rising to his feet as well. You downed the last of your drink, placing your cup down on Wills desk. You accidentally knocked your bag down in the process, causing your things to go spilling out everywhere.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Here let me help.”

Will crouched down beside you helping you gather your things. The two of you moved without paying too much attention,  the alcohol in your system making you clumsy. Somehow you managed to knock your head into Will's nose.

“Oh shit sorry Will.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. You might be bleeding. Here let me take a look.”

You guided Will to his chair, your things forgotten on the floor. He sat down, his hand still applying pressure to his nose. You placed a hand on top of him, guiding him to let go. He understood your request. Your fingers moved carefully over his nose, trying to see if anything was bruised. Will hissed as you touched a tender spot.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m not a doctor but i don't think anything is broken. And you're not bleeding so you should be fine.”

Instinctively you placed your hand on Will's cheek. You watched him close his eyes, learning into your touch. Slowly Will opened his eyes. His blue orbs bore into you. He was looking up at you with puppy eyes. Your breath sped up at the sight. His lips parted slightly to whisper your name. Will's hand moved to the back of your leg. He pushed your body closer to his, hand wrapping around your thigh. You lifted your leg allowing him to guide you onto his lap. Will moved his head to the side, moving to kiss your wrist. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as he continued to kiss down your arm. A gasp left your mouth as Will pressed his face into your chest, his arms wrapping around your back as he desperately tried to be closer to you. You could feel his tongue though the fabric of your shirt. The feeling caused you to throw your head back as your hands made their way into Will’s curls. You heard him call your name again making you look down at him. He had his head against your chest, his beautiful blue eyes staring up at you.  

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Will pulled you down into him, allowing the two of you to be face to face. The kiss was gentle and far too quick for your liking. Your lips parted for each other. Will put his hand on your cheek. His thumb moved over your lips, caressing them. You opened your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the tip of his digit. Will let out a shuddered breath at the action. You smirked at him. 

“You should be careful darling. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me?”

The grin that made its way onto Will's face could only be described as wolfish. Before you knew it Will had risen from his seat and placed you on the ground. He wasted no time working his way into your pants. You gasped as his fingers played with your folds.

“This wet already?”

“In all honesty i’ve been wet since we started talking.”

“Jesus baby.”

“I think about you a lot. In class. In bed. Anywhere really.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you think about?”

“Your hands, your back, what you’d look like naked.”

“So that's why you’re behind? Been to busy thinking of fucking me to pay attention.”

“Yes…”

Will tugged at your pants, pulling them down your leg. You lifted your hips to help him out. He lent down, placing a kiss to your thighs and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. Will grazed his teeth against your skin and then continued to kiss the spot.

“Will, please.”

“What do you want?”

“Anything, just please give me something.”

“Only cause you’ve been good.”

A moan broke from your lips as Will's tongue moved over your folds. You placed your hand over your face, head turning to the side as Will ate you out. He was skilled. A lot more skilled than you’d imagined him to be. The way his tongue moved over your pussy had you screaming out for him. Your sounds seemed to spur him on because whenever you let out a yelp, Will would focus all his energy into that spot. His palm was splayed against your chest, fingers gripping at your breast.

You wrapped your hands around Will's wrist dragging his hand up to your face. You placed two of his fingers into your mouth sucking on them eagerly. Will let out a grunt at the feeling, his hips moving against the carpet for some much needed friction. You watched him hump the carpet like a dog in heat and you couldn’t help but want to pleasure him too. You wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel because he deserved it. But at the moment you were far more focused on cumming.

“Will, baby, I'm so close…”

“Yeah. You gonna cum for me?”

“Ah Will-shit ugh-please.”

Will seemed to know exactly what you were begging for. He placed a kiss on your clit as he inserted two fingers into you. The combination of his fingers inside you, his tongue on you and the sight of the blissed out look on his face had you cumming in seconds. You yelled out his name, your hand tugging on his curls as you came. Will laid down beside you as you came down from your high. His hand went to his dick, tugging at his pants in an attempt to get some relief. You tried to catch your breath, tilting your head to look at Will. You noticed how he fidgeted with his hard on. You called out his name, making him tilt his head to look at you. 

“What is it?”

“Touch yourself for me.”

Will hesitated for a moment, eyes searching for your approval.

“It’s okay baby, you can touch yourself. It’s your reward for making me feel good.”

It was funny how quickly you managed to switch roles and by the look on Will's face you could tell he enjoyed it. Will opened his zipper, his hand moving to free his member. You inched closer to him, nuzzling your face into the croak of his neck. Will whined as he started stroking his dick. You unbuttoned his shirt, placing your hand on his skin. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he continued to pleasure himself.

“That’s it baby.”

“Oh fuck. Want to…”

“Tell me what you need, Will.”

“Need to be inside of you.”

“Okay, since you’ve been a good boy. I’ll give you what you want.”

You pushed your body off the ground, moving to be on your hands and knees. You crawled over Will's body maneuvering yourself so you were hovering over his dick. You placed your hands on his chest bracing yourself. Will humped into you causing his dick to nudge against your cunt. 

“Ah ah patience Will.”

“Sorry.”

Slowly you sank down onto his dick. His hands gripped your hips instinctively. You let out a breath, trying to adjust to his size. You clenched around Will, making him grunt at the feeling. You lifted your hips before dropping back down. Will moved in unison with you, his hand playing with your nipples as you continued to ride him. Your nails dug into his chest as you moved, the sounds he was letting out only spurring you on. You could feel your upcoming orgasm causing you to fasten your movements. 

“Fuck i’m gonna cum. Gotta get out darling.”

Will moved to tug you on him but you sank your nails into his shoulders. He looked up at you with a startled look. 

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside just please…fill me up. I want you to fill me up.”

You had no idea what your words did to him but it became clear a few seconds later. You barely had time to register Wills orgasm before your own ripped through you. You sagged onto his chest exhaustion finally catching up to you. Will placed a kiss on your neck before nuzzling his nose into you. You caressed his chest as you two tried to recover.

“Think you’ll be able to pay attention in class now?”

“No fucking way.”

Will's laugh filled the room, his chest vibrating against yours. You couldn’t help but grin at the sound.

[the-clockwork-fiend]

Oho, hello dear customer! What a pleasure to see you on this fine snowy morning! Here, have some hot chocloate to warm up! And I set up a wonderfully cozy corner over there to sip your drink to your leisure. You'll even get a fantastical view of the town through the front window. Isn't that just delightful?

Created 12 - 1 - 2024

❝ Kitchen Mischief ❞

— Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader...

Contains fluff, Lilia's cooking deserves a warning; based on this post's prompt "S'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt" "You just can't cook."; December 1st special; not proofread.

I wasn't really sure where to end it so bear with me, it's my first fic on my new account and it's been a while since I've written. I'll admit that it's a little rushed because I have things to do soon but I wanted to get this out before I get too busy and forget. I hope you enjoy!

"Y/N, make sure Lilia doesn't handle too much of the cooking." Silver's words echoed in your head as you helped Lilia gather the ingredients for various Christmas treats. The plan had originally been for you to handle the baking, but after Lilia had dropped into the secret meeting between you, Silver, Sebek, and Malleus and insisted on baking the sweet treats himself, no one had been able to talk him out of it. Afterwards, Silver had pulled you aside and told you that advice. You knew as well as he did that left unsupervised, the kitchen would become unusable for the next week, so you took the duty quite seriously.

"Y/N, how many marshmallows should I use?" Facing Lilia, you saw that the short fae was holding a sizeable bag of the fluffy white cubes. He wore a bright smile on his face, wide enough that you could see his sharp canine teeth. "Check the recipe book," you said, pointing to the open book on the counter nearby. "And stick to the recipe, no deviations." You warned him as though he was a small child. He must have picked up on your tone as well, because he good-naturedly answered, "Fine, fufufu."

Against your better judgment, you turned your back on Lilia to focus on your own project. As worried as you were that he would find some odd ingredient to add in, you couldn't hover over him the whole time. At least you'd compromised with him, allowing him to pick a sweet of his own to make rather than the frosted sugar cookies that he'd had his eye on making. Otherwise, you definitely wouldn't have taken your eye off of him for even a second. But s'mores seemed to be a safe option. There weren't a whole lot of ways someone could mess those up, right? Though, you thought dryly, Lilia would undoubtedly find a way if you didn't watch his progress carefully.

You heard playful giggling behind you and turned. Lilia held a bag of M&Ms and was popping the colorful candies into his mouth as he placed graham crackers on a plate. Relieved that he was placated — at least for now— you finished cutting out the cookies from the flattened dough on the counter and carefully moved them to the pan you had ready.

Once you'd finished, you stuck the first batch of cookies into the oven, casting a quick glance at the timer to make sure it would go off, you went about making the frosting. You'd settled on a fairly simple recipe and, after ensuring Lilia was still occupied, moved across the room to grab what ingredients you'd need.

"Y/N!" Lilia called out. Bracing yourself for disaster, you turned around. Only, the kitchen wasn't on fire as you'd expected. In fact, Lilia was nowhere to be seen, which worried you more than if the kitchen had spontaneously combusted.

"Lilia?" You questioned, looking around. Suddenly, a pair of blood red eyes appeared in front of you, accompanied by a curtain of black and pink hair and Lilia's upside down face, a smile on his face. Startled, you jumped back, but as you opened your mouth in an instinctive yelp, he shoved something in your mouth.

Taking a moment to process what had just happened, you realized what was now in your mouth was a s'more. You were pleasantly surprised that you could at least tell what food you would be ingesting, most of all that it was edible and hadn't already poisoned you.

"So? How does it taste?" Lilia asked expectantly, a proud expression on his face. Taking a bite of the s'more and holding the remainder in your hand, you chewed thoughtfully. It tasted like a s'more should, which meant that he hadn't taken any disastrous creative liberties. You swallowed and gave a thumbs up. "It tastes great!" You said with a grin. Beaming, Lilia laughed. "Thank you! Though, I think a few tweaks in the recipe could've made it taste better." He seemed to be contemplating this idea, so you quickly moved the conversation on.

"Er- the original tastes awesome, don't bother! Anyways, let's get back to work. These treats won't make themselves." You walked back over to your area of the counter and set down the stuff you'd need to make the icing.

Checking the timer, you still had a few minutes, so you got the icing going in the stand mixer while you cut out more gingerbread man shaped cookies with the cookie cutter. You'd just finished putting the last cookie on the tray when the timer went off. You shoved the oven mitts on and opened the oven door, replaced the finished cookie pan with the unbaked one, and set the first one on the stove top.

You realized, a good chunk of time later, that you hadn't been paying attention to Lilia until you heard a sheepish, "Whoopsies," come from your left. You spun around, and apparently your earlier worries were proven to be warranted. Lilia held the smoldering remains of what you could only assume had once been a s'more in his hand, blowing out the small green flames that had presumably been the cause of setting it ablaze. Luckily, nothing else appeared to be scorched, so you assumed that the fire had been magic, and thus started by Lilia.

"Have you been making the s'mores by setting them on fire?" You asked incredulously. The smore you'd eaten earlier hadn't been burnt, so what had happened this time? Lilia's expression was bashful as he explained, "I got a little overzealous..." Half worried that what only deserved the name of charcoal would damage the garbage bag if you tossed it — it still had smoke emitting from it and was evidently still hot — you gestured to it gingerly. "What do you plan to do with it?"

"Eat it, of course!" Came Lilia's response, and he immediately popped it into his mouth. Your look of appall must have been visible on your face, because he said, "S'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt!" You turned away with a sigh of disappointment in your partner. "You just can't cook," you answered. You'd long since dismissed the notion that anything the fae cooked, if it could be referred to as something that was cooked, would harm him. However, you, rightfully so, avoided kissing the fae or sharing anything with him for at least a day after he did this.

"I'm wounded," Lilia said, rather dramatically. "I can cook! I took care of Malleus and Silver and they don't have anything bad to say about my cooking!

You didn't reply, choosing not to mention the whole reason for the secret meeting with them that Lilia had dropped in on. Instead, you pulled the second pan of cookies out of the oven and sent Lilia to grab you sprinkles and the ingredients for brownies.

Once everything had finished baking and cooling, you let Lilia do what he liked decorating the treats. You figured that that was a task that he could manage without setting stuff on fire — again. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Silver's head poke around the doorway of the kitchen. You gave him a slight nod and a smile, hoping that he got the message that everything was going fine, which he seemed to understand, because he gave a brief nod in return and disappeared from view.

"These brownies are very good, Y/N," Malleus said, taking a bite out of his square. Silver and Sebek made noises of agreement as they ate their own brownies.

"See? My baking skills are amazing!" Lilia told to you proudly with a smug grin on his face. Hearing his words, Malleus and Sebek looked shocked and appeared ready to spit the sweets out, but then they seemed to notice that the brownies tasted okay and Malleus, at least, regained his composure. "Lilia, you made these?" he asked. You could tell that he was still dubious as to whether or not he should continue eating. "I was there to supervise," you spoke up.

"I see." Sebek seemed relieved and began eating again, your explanation satisfying him. Silver, for his part, had finished his own brownie without pause, though that was probably because he'd checked in on you earlier and saw for himself that the food wasn't hazardous to consume.

"I can't believe that Christmas is only a few weeks away! I haven't even finished getting Kalim or Cater's presents yet!" Lilia exclaimed conversationally, munching on one of your sugar cookies.

Silver chimed in, "Neither have I for Se— uh, Riddle." He caught his slip up and redirected quickly, his eyes glancing at Sebek for a brief moment before flicking away. It clicked after a few seconds. Silver had gotten the Equestrian Club gifts, and he didn't want to spoil the surprise for Sebek. Malleus seemed to catch this too, judging from the way his smile widened slightly, but he too stayed silent.

"So, Malleus, Y/N, are you getting presents for anyone?" Lilia prompted teasingly.

"Of course," you said with a conspiratorial wink to the dragon fae. You had both collaborated to make a special gift for Lilia, a way of showing your thanks to him. The gift itself would be a horizontal weapon stand for Lilia to place his magearm on, but it wasn't quite ready; you still needed Sam to deliver a few decorative pieces so you could finish it.

"I don't suppose you'd tell me what it is?" Lilia asked, blinking his eyes like a puppy. Malleus chuckled. "That would ruin the surprise."

Lilia pouted but conceded. "Fine." He reached to grab another cookie, but there were none left on the plate. "There are more in the kitchen," you reminded him. The short fae looped his arm through yours and with no further explanation or room to protest, he announced, "You're coming with me!"

Once you followed along, he nudged you in the side with an elbow. "Are you sure—"

"I'm not going to tell you," you said firmly. With that, he sighed and he seemed to actually give up, knowing that if you weren't going to budge, you wouldn't budge. You arrived at the kitchen and you scoped out what baked goods remained. Another pan of brownies and a copious amount of sugar cookies that you would have to give away to other students to get rid of in a timely manner.

"Y/N~" Lilia said. You turned and was met with his face inches from yours. You felt his lips press against yours in a quick kiss. It took you a few moments to register that he'd been hovering, but that honestly wasn't your most pressing thought as you gagged. The taste of sickly burnt marshmallow invaded your mouth, remnant from the failed s'more from earlier. Lilia's eyes lit up in alarm. "Y/N?"

"No more kisses for the rest of the day — or at least util you brush your teeth!" You said, gagging still and grabbing a glass of water to attempt to rid your mouth of the acrid taste.

"Do you want a cookie?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean I can—"

"No."

You're leaving now? Do be careful out there, it'd be unfortunate if you injured yourself by slipping on a patch of ice or whatnot! Oh, here's a peppermint for the road, they're quite tasty! Well, I hope to see you again soon, esteemed patron.

Twst taglist... @h2llish @xen-blank @edith-is-a-cat @nightmare-in-the-woods @floydsteeth @officialdaydreamer00 @cookiesandbiscuits @mermaidfanficlibrary @casp1an-sea @tako-cafe @creatorbiaze @koihanwrites @lyle-my-beloved

Reblogs and likes are appreciated but not necessary!

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Hannibal request!! Hannibal and the reader are going to an event (maybe the opera or dinner but definitely something fancy). the reader decided to wear a short dress with no panties and is teasing Hannibal all night and being bratty- then I imagine this going one of two ways, either Hannibal takes them home to punish them or shoves them in a coat closet or something to fuck them and is degrading the reader about being a slut and making everyone hear her moans.):):) okay that’s the requests if you write it thank youu💓💓

EEEEEEE YESSSSS (i hope you don’t mind i snuck a lil bit of Mr. Graham in there 🤭 and also yes they are married hee hee AND also yes i got carried away)

——

As soon as you stepped out of the bedroom, Hannibal knew he was in for a long night.

He was taking you out to see Turandot, one of your favorite operas. It was the perfect excuse for both of you to dress up even more than usual, and your gown was one he hadn’t seen you wear before.

Not only did it have a plunging neckline, but a prominent slit on one side too, showing just a little too much of your thigh.

It was a pleasant surprise, sure, but it did worry him some. Especially considering he’d also invited Will to join you two for the show.

“Playing games tonight, are we?” He asked, adjusting the cuff of his shirt.

“Whatever could you mean?” You tilted your head in an attempt to seem innocently confused. “I just thought you’d appreciate having some arm candy this evening.”

You busied yourself by touching up your lipstick in front of the mirror as he looked you over. The fabric clung to you in a way that didn’t leave much to the imagination — all those curves and soft angles he’d memorized over time.

Hannibal didn’t mind showing you off, but he still had a possessive streak he could not deny. He knew well that you loved taking advantage of that by being rebellious, always eager to test just how far you could push him.

He inhaled deeply, immediately scenting that perfume you knew he liked. He also detected a sharp note of adrenaline, which told him you were more thrilled than you let on. He huffed in amusement, shaking his head.

He supposed he could leave it be for the time being, but he would have to be cautious. At the very least, the balcony at the opera house would be dark, should you decide to misbehave.

When you two met up with Will in the reception area, Hannibal did not miss the way his eyes wandered. Or how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“My, aren’t you a striking pair,” Will said, earning a smile from you. “I feel woefully underdressed now.”

You hummed, returning the favor of drinking him in. "That's never a problem in my eyes."

"I'm sure your husband agrees with that."

Hannibal merely smiled politely, but his jaw was clenched. More eyes strayed in your direction as the two men led you up the stairs and toward your balcony. You basked in the attention, especially because it made Hannibal keep his hand on the small of your back.

Will slid onto his seat first, and before you could even try, Hannibal scurried in after him. He offered his hand to help you sit, pointedly keeping eye contact with you. You offered him your most charming grin, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.

The lights soon dimmed, and the orchestral notes of the first act subsequently filled the cavernous room. The rising voices of the choir reverberated all the way to your bones, and you let them carry you away for a moment, closing your eyes.

Hannibal eyed the column of your throat as your head slightly tipped back, enraptured by the performance. His gaze dipper lower, seeing that your fingers were splayed over your sternum to feel the thrum beneath.

As the first song came to an end, you clapped uproariously along with the rest of the crowd. For a while after, you simply watched, forgetting all the mischief you had planned. Or so it seemed, at least.

Then, you re-crossed your legs, making a point of leaning just a little closer to him, and the slit of your gown widened. Hannibal couldn't help himself, his fingers ghosting past your knee and trailing upwards. When he couldn't feel the hem of your panties, he realized you weren't wearing any. That earned you a pinch on the hip, hard enough to bruise.

You pretended to be none the wiser -- despite the fact that your slightly upturned lips gave you away -- folding up your opera glasses.

"Excuse me, I have to go to the powder room," you murmured, your fingers lightly tracing the back of his hand.

Before you could get up, he leaned in close, grasping your forearm.

"Try not to get lost," he said, his breath hot in your ear. "Or else I'll have to come find you."

This time, your smile had a lupine quality. "Is that a promise?"

He did not respond, instead releasing you. You felt his burning gaze on you as you left, your heart frantically racing.

It only took him a couple of minutes to keep his word. You could vaguely hear the last song of the first act as he ushered you toward the coat closet.

There, away from prying eyes, he wasted no time, pinning you against the wall among a sea of fur coats.

“You did always like putting on a show, didn’t you?” he said, making you gasp with a particularly hard thrust.

"I think we can both agree I can captivate a-an audience…”

“Oh, and how I wish they could see you now, rightfully claimed.” He smirked, bringing a hand to your neck. “Go on, let them hear you. Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”

——

[exhaustedpirate]

call disconnected

my first entry for CS Autumn/Spooky Bingo created by the lovely @hollyethecurious - the prompt was "ghost stories", i got a little carried away and made it into a bit of a crime solving thing! all my love and devotion goes to @belovedcreation for betaing!

rated T | 7849 words

also on AO3

summary: Sheriff Emma Swan gets a call about an accident in the woods, a man begging her for help. An hour later, Killian Jones is on his way to the hospital. Funny thing is, the call for help doesn't match the voice of the victim.

The call arrives just after 2 o’clock, which is lucky because there would be a whole other emergency if someone stopped Emma Swan from getting her grilled cheese. 

Ruby is supposed to be on phone duty but there is an anniversary dinner to plan and she doesn’t want to be responsible for Mulan having an underwhelming night due to her wife’s rushed planning. So Emma is covering the phones when it rings.

“Sheriff Swan speaking.”

Static greets her on the other side of the line, tensing her body unconsciously before a voice rings out. “Help, I-I fell-” It’s a strange panicked voice she’s never heard before, an accent not common to their small town of Storybrooke, Maine. She feels a tingle in her spine all the way to her hands. “The cliff gave out. Can you hear me?”

“Uh, yes, yes, I can hear you, sir,” Emma takes a deep steadying breath. “Can you tell me where you fell?”

“I w-was on the Misthaven Trail, I-I think I broke my leg,” His guttural grunt of pain weighs on her chest and she feels like she’s having difficulty breathing. “I can see the bone, I-”

Static plays up again and she feels his panic in her veins. “I can barely hear you, sir,” Her knuckles are white as she tightens her hold on the phone, pressing it harder against her ear as if it will make it easier to hear. “Can you tell me precisely where on the trail?”

“The river, Shepherd River,” His breathing becomes panicked and she knows she should keep him calm, urging him to take shorter breaths but she’d feel like a hypocrite. “I’m bleeding, please, help me, plea-”

The call cuts off and she is left with the sounds of her fast breathing. “Sir? Sir?” 

Emma tries to redial, grateful for the old technology to allow her to do so. An automated voice informs her the number is not in service and she frowns in confusion.

Maybe it was a prank.

Maybe some of the local teenagers were trying to send her on a wild goose chase so they can vandalise another section of their lovely neighbourhood. 

But the panic was real. The fear in that voice was real. The hairs on her arms are still raised as she remembers the voice, as she remembers all the alarms her body gave her.

Graham pokes his head into her office a second after. “Emma?” Her hand hurts from where she’s still holding onto the phone as if her life depends on it. “Are you alright?”

Maybe it is a prank.

The tight feeling on her chest tells her to go check it out nonetheless.

She drops the phone, with maybe too much strength, before she faces her deputy. “Are you up for a hike?”

---

It really is lucky that Graham practically lives in the woods. Emma was made for concrete roads and windows to keep the insects away. She wouldn’t last an hour alone in these woods.

The Toll Bridge crosses through the edge of the forest. The Misthaven Trail parallels the Shepherd River that flows under the bridge. It’s common to see vehicles on the side of the road - hikers leaving the last piece of civilization before venturing into the forest.

Emma parks the cruiser alongside a Chevrolet Chevelle and she’s almost sad to see it left to the whims of nature. But it probably belongs to their injured hiker. She places her hand on the hood of the car. She can still feel some warmth.

“This must be his.” She points the car out to Graham. “It’s probably been like an hour since he left. Call the hospital, ask them to get an ambulance here.”

Graham nods and grabs his phone. She lets his voice become background noise as she inspects the car. The door is unlocked, the hiker probably wasn’t expecting to be long. There’s a satchel in the back seat. She opens the door and looks inside. There’s an ID in the wallet and a buzzing in her ears when she looks at the picture on it. Killian Jones.

“They’re on their way,” Graham breaks through her inspection and everything becomes clearer. “I told them to keep their radio on.”

She nods. “We’re looking for Killian Jones,” Emma turns the ID towards him before tossing it inside the car. “Assuming he’s our hiker.”

Graham has his tracking face on as she closes the door. There’s something on the driver side floor that causes that tugging in her gut that guides her to flare up.

“It’s a good thing it hasn’t rained,” Graham points out from the other side of the car. “There are some recent footprints leading west. They’re probably his.”

“The Misthaven Trail,” Emma nods, any investigating paused in lieu of finding the injured hiker. “Let’s go.”

“Stay behind me.”

“Go get him, Fido.” Emma presses her lips together attempting to hide the smile at her terrible joke, but fails at the sight of his unimpressed look.

They follow the trail in familiar silence. Graham’s experience allows them to travel at a fast speed through the trees. They pay close attention to any sounds out of the ordinary - which is to say, anything that isn’t birds, animals or the rushing river below them.

“Emma.” 

Graham stops and she manages to stop before she runs into him. He gestures to the ground where a blanket is crumpled underneath a tree, still warm. 

“Still warm,” Emma confirms before dropping the blanket. “He must be close. Maybe he fell.”

“After all the warnings the Mayor released, there’s still people who forget to respect the forest.”

“I thought those had only been around for the past year,” Emma frowns, looking around. “I mean, you both gave me an hour-long lecture about it when I started.”

“Everyone in town knows to be cautious of these woods but there was a, uhm,” And it is the first time she’s ever seen Graham sound uncertain, his voice trembling with emotion. He clears his throat before he continues. “There was a death in these woods.”

She sees the way he looks guarded now, in pain. “Oh.”

A flash catches the corner of her eye. With a hand to cover her eyes from the sun, she turns towards it. The sunlight has caught on a metal flask within throwing distance from the blanket, she assumes. Close to it is a pile of rocks. A strange pile, each rock deliberately placed on top of the other. It must have been a while since it’s been built there according to the moss growing on them.

Emma turns towards her deputy to point that to him but sees him a few steps away looking at the ground. “Drag marks,” he points out as if he could feel her eyes on him. “He must have fallen down-”

“Help!” A weak yell cuts him off and they whip their heads to the right. 

“And ended up down by the river,” Emma finishes for him in a quiet voice, her heart beating faster at the sound of pain, as she stands next to the deputy.

Using caution, Emma follows Graham’s lead as he gets them to the river bank following the sounds of pain. Halfway down, they locate the hiker and for the first time, Graham’s confidence falters and so do his steps. A man is slumped on the side of the river, covered in dirt and blood. She can see tendrils of red flowing down the river.

“Don’t move,” Graham orders, recovering quickly, as he stands next to the victim who seems to slump at their arrival, the fight leaving his body in his relief. “We’re here to help.”

Emma kneels on one side of him and is instantly on alert at the sight of the gash in his head and the bone protruding from his leg. She looks up at Graham and he seems to read her thoughts.

“I’ll guide the paramedics here,” Graham says, grabbing the radio from his belt. “Keep him still and awake.”

She nods before he returns to the trail to guide the others to where they are. Emma places her hand on the man’s shoulder, careful to avoid hurting him further. His big blue eyes turn to her, pain and fear side by side with hope and creating a tug in her gut.

She clears her throat. “Are you Killian Jones?”

“Aye, I fell, broke my leg,” he explains in a hoarse voice. She frowns at the sound, a whole other type of tingle running up her spine. “The ground caved under me.”

There’s static in her radio before Graham’s voice rings out. “ETA is three minutes, is he conscious?”

“Yeah, conscious and lucid,” Emma answers through the radio. “Broken leg and head injury.”

“I thought I was going to die here,” Killian groans as she puts away the device. “How did you find me?”

“The Misthaven Trail is long and you weren’t exactly specific.” Emma breathes out a chuckle, her nerves slightly calmed at knowing help is coming. “But we found where you fell down. We would have been here faster but service in this area is crap. I don’t know how you called us in the first place.” She’s babbling. She does that when she’s nervous.

Killian’s eyebrows furrow together, confusion taking over the pain. “I called you?”

“Hmm, yeah, that’s how we knew to come find you.” She answers as if it’s obvious, even as a pull in her gut tries to tell her otherwise.

“I left my phone in the car,” he explains and she feels that tingle up her spine once more. “I didn’t call anyone.”

Careful footsteps and cautious voices approach them and she lets the paramedics do their job as they put Killian Jones in the stretcher and cover his wounds. Their eyes remain locked until the last possible moment before Emma follows behind the stretcher being led by Graham. 

A light flashes in her eyes once more and she looks up at it, the pile of rocks still standing proudly in the forest, a bird perched on the top stone, its deep blue wings fluttering. The hairs at the back of her neck stand in attention and she tries to make sense of what happened. 

They found the hiker exactly where he told her he’d be. His leg was broken, just like the call said - she wouldn’t soon forget the sight of the bone piercing his flesh. The voice was different, Emma noticed it right away, but there were no signs of other hikers in the area.

But if the call wasn’t made by Killian Jones, then who called them for help?

---

Loud laughter rings out from the open kitchen window. An unconscious smile stretches Emma’s lips as she looks out at the dark heads illuminated by the fire pit she borrowed from Graham. Despite being disappointed at the cancelled camping trip, Henry seemed to have forgotten all about it when she reminded him of the comforts of home camping and the awesome backyard that came with their house. 

After the day they had, Emma just couldn’t think of Henry in the woods.

“Emma?” 

Speaking of, her deputy’s voice from the phone in her ear brings her back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry.” She turns her back to the window, leaning on the counter. “I got distracted.”

“I was saying that Mr. Jones should be going into his MRI scan right now and after that, they are preparing him for surgery on his leg. The doctors said that despite the trauma his body has been through, he’s doing really well.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Emma breathes out in relief. Against her best interests, she hadn’t been able to put this strange rescue away from her mind. There was just something about the call, his voice, his eyes, that just didn’t seem right.

She feels Graham’s patient silence on the other side and she nods to herself to gather up courage. “Doesn’t all of this seem strange to you? The whole situation.”

“Emma-”

“He didn’t call the station, Graham, it was someone else, I swear,” she interrupts, her hackles raised. “He didn’t have a phone on him either, this is all just-”

“Weird,” Graham interrupts this time and he sighs. “I should have told you earlier, but I know Killian Jones, we a- were friends.”

“What?”

“He used to live here until last year. His brother, he-” Emma waits in suspense as Graham takes a deep steadying breath. “He died while on a hike in that trail a year ago, I assume Killian went there to pay his respects. I didn’t even know he was in town until we found him.”

“Y-You didn’t say anything.”

“Well, I didn’t want to believe it was him and then, when we found him, I knew I had to stay focused. I needed to do my job.”

“Right,” Emma scratches her forehead, her brain full of conflicting thoughts. This was a lot to consider. “So who called the station? A ghost?” She asks her question sarcastically to disguise how the possibility doesn’t sound too ridiculous to her.

“All I know is that we had a long day, Emma,” Graham evades, his tone placating and calm. “We should get our rest and look at this whole thing again tomorrow, with fresh eyes.”

“You’re right,” she exhales. “Goodnight, Graham. Keep me updated.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

Emma ends the call and throws the phone at the dinner table. She’s going to push those doubts away even if she needs to force them away. She’s got some happy campers to focus on. Emma pulls the popcorn from the microwave and picks up the platter she made with the components for s’mores before pushing the back door open carefully.

“Does anyone know any ghost stories?” Ava Zimmer is almost vibrating in her seat as she grabs a handful of chips Emma brought earlier. Camping is not synonymous with healthy food.

“Ghosts? Aren’t we too old for that?” Nicholas Zimmer, on the other hand, is trying to hide his fear with bravado.

“Come on, Nick, it’s almost Halloween.” Henry knocks shoulders with his friend’s and she can hear the grin in his voice. “And that means ghost stories. Besides, they’re not real.”

“Yeah,” Ava agrees. “It’s just spooky and Halloween is the time for spooky.”

“Just not too spooky,” Emma interrupts, ignoring the way Nicholas startles at the sound of her voice - no need to embarrass the boy. “Otherwise you won’t sleep tonight.”

“Have you heard the story of the Misthaven Ghost?” Henry leans close to his friends on the bench with a grin.

Emma is glad for her steady grip on the platter or there would be no s’mores tonight. “Misthaven Ghost? Where did you hear that sort of story?” She tries to keep her voice cool but even she can hear the edge in it - was she the last one to hear about this? -, focusing instead on placing the food down on the small camping table she opened.

“Mr. Booth is having us write a ghost story for class and he gave us that one as an example,” Henry answers and he must misinterpret her questioning as innocent curiosity but she’s not going to correct him. “Do you wanna hear it?”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” 

“No, please join us!” Nicholas grabs her thankfully empty hands to pull her to sit between him and his twin after Henry stands up to stand on the other side of the fire.

“You’re such a scaredy cat.” Ava teases, looking at him around Emma.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Kids.” Emma warns, holding their arms to keep them from hitting each other.

“Listen up! For I am about to tell you the story of the Misthaven Ghost,” Henry calls from the other side of the fire before popping another popcorn in his mouth. Emma finds herself smiling at her kid’s dramatics. “It was a cold night in October, the 30th of October to be exact. An innocent man is walking the Misthaven Trail, determined to beat all odds and finish the hike. He is alone, nothing but his thoughts and the animals around him,” Nicholas plasters himself to Emma’s side. “He carries only a phone that won’t work this far into the woods and his bravery. He hears a presence to his right, to his left, all around, feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand in attention and a voice whispers in the wind,” Ava holds her right arm now as Henry lowers his voice. “‘Get out of the woods’, it says, ‘get out’, but the hiker is too fearless to heed their warning. Suddenly, a boom lights the sky and the ground gives out from under him, and then he’s falling. He’s falling and he can’t ask for help,” Emma feels the shiver running up her spine and, distantly, she thinks maybe Henry should focus on this storytelling ability he has. “He is floating on the river then, his body weak and leaving him, his last thought on the family he leaves behind, a last goodbye sent to the stars he loved so much.”

Henry finishes with a fluttering gesture towards the night sky. Ava and Nicholas on either side of her are gripping her arm, not willing to break the silence. 

“He had a family?” Emma asks and even her quiet tone manages to startle the twins. 

“Were you scared, Ava?” Nicholas asks as he looks at his sister, a victorious grin winning over his fear.

Ava huffs and crosses her arms. “No, you’re the scared one.”

“It’s a good story, isn’t it?” Henry asks, a bright smile on his face and a proud stance to his shoulders.

“Mr. Booth told you this story?” Emma tries again.

“Yeah,” Henry grabs another handful of popcorn, now that his story is done, eating one at a time. “He wanted us to have an example of what to write but he was probably also showing off.” 

The kids laugh, everyone in town knowing of August’s designs of being a published author and his constant promises of finishing his novel soon. But there was still something niggling at Emma’s brain.

“Did he make up the story himself? Or did he hear it from someone?”

“He says he made it up inspired by a real event,” Henry shrugs. “I told Mrs. Nolan about it and she said that, about a year ago, someone did die in those woods and that’s when the Mayor put out the announcement.” He grabs the marshmallow sticks and passes them along to his friends who are still visibly spooked. “Apparently there had been lots of reports of injuries and lost hikers on that trail before that.”

“So it took someone dying for them to actually do something about it? Figures.” Emma scoffs and Henry shrugs, unaware of the turmoil in his mother’s brain.

“Okay, can we tell less spooky stories now?” Nicholas asks, begs almost, bringing Emma back to the present. The fact that Ava doesn’t tease her brother is telling.

“Why don’t I grab my laptop and put on a movie for you?” Emma suggests, standing up from the bench.

“Nightmare before Christmas?” Nicholas turns pleading eyes towards his friends.

Ava nods and then seems to remember herself. “Only if we watch ‘Monster House’ after.” 

Her twin seems to think about it before nodding resolutely. “Deal! Is that okay, Henry?”

Henry smiles, seemingly just happy to have a fun night with his friends. “As long as it’s Halloween themed, I’m in.”

Emma grins, despite everything. “Double feature it is,” she chuckles. “I’ll set it up.”

‘This is Halloween’ drifts through the open kitchen window as the kids settle down making s’mores in the yard while Emma sits at the kitchen table. She finds Killian Jones’ social media easily enough - she wouldn’t have become one of the best bail bondsperson in the business without being able to find someone’s internet footprint with only a name and a date of birth. It might be slightly illegal to have taken a picture of the man’s ID but what is she gonna do? Arrest herself?

Maybe Emma needed to take a long look within herself if she was negotiating committing illegal acts to herself… After she got to the bottom of this mystery.

Killian Jones is even more handsome than she had previously thought. Considering the only times she’d been able to actually look at him were either a small grainy ID photo or him caked in dirt and blood, it wasn’t a high bar. 

Seeing him on the deck of a small boat, a colourful shirt open to show his chest underneath, his eyes crinkled in laughter as he holds out a beer bottle in cheers to the person behind the camera is a welcome alternative. She has to force herself to scroll past the picture. 

She notices belatedly that the last post - the Hawaiian shirt distraction - is from a year ago, September to be exact. In the middle of all the thirsty comments, she finds something interesting. ‘Don’t shut me out, Killian, I’m here for you’, was posted by one bookworm33 and it would have looked weird if it didn’t speak of desperation and worry.

Emma continues to scroll down and doesn’t have to swipe too long before she pauses at a picture of Killian Jones and a man that shares the same eyes and facial features. Her gut tugs at her and she taps on the picture once, a tag covering the man’s eyes. Bejewelled40 - whose real name is Liam Jones - aside from being a Taylor Swift fan, is also Killian Jones’ brother.

There are pictures of them in boats, hiking, and visiting foreign countries, even some that include Graham. His posts also end a year ago and the ‘remembering’ on the top of his profile is an easy explanation. Clicking on the first photo - different angles to the September boat trip, focusing more on Liam Jones than his brother - she finds another comment hidden between thirsty comments and boat enthusiasts. ‘I miss you’, written simply and it’s the lack of emojis that catch Emma’s attention. Bookworm33 was clearly important to the siblings. 

It doesn’t take her long to get a better picture of the situation. Belle French, the brother’s friend, has been a librarian at Storybrooke High for the past 4 years after a troublesome divorce made her move cities. Pictures and references to the Jones brothers start a few months after that, before there’s a significant lack of Killian Jones in her pictures a year later. 

An article in the local newsletter, an announcement in the paper and a remembrance post on Facebook spells out the rest of the story. The Jones Brothers move to Storybrooke 5 years ago and join the community, Liam as the Sheriff and Killian as the Harbormaster; Belle and Liam start their romance and become engaged two years ago. A year ago, Belle’s father passes away and she travels back home and Liam is found dead on the Misthaven Trail three days later. Killian Jones isn’t seen in Storybrooke for a whole year after the funeral until Emma finds him almost dead by the river bank.

A message notification puts an end to her research. ‘Jones is out of surgery and we should be able to visit him tomorrow’, Graham texts and she looks at the clock. Emma sighs. Two hours researching and she still has so many questions.

‘Take the day off tomorrow, Humbert, I’ll follow up with Jones’, she messages back. ‘Don’t argue with me, I’m your boss, you deserve some rest’, she sends right after, expecting the argument.

‘Alright, Sheriff, I leave it to your capable hands.’ The reminder causes her to massage her temples. She has Liam Jones’ job; could this whole situation feel more like a horror movie?

Going back to Liam Jones’ instagram, Emma finds a picture of him with Graham in a nature setting. With a squint and a zoom, she recognises the setting. She swipes to find a video with Graham’s voice from behind the camera and Liam Jones struggling but determined to take his next step.

“We’re currently on mile 5 of the Misthaven Trail,” Graham explains, a very faint hint of tiredness in his tone as he sweeps the camera over their surroundings and Emma can’t help the eerie feeling at the setting sun behind the trees. “As you can see, this area is beautiful and peaceful, a great place to be at one with yourself and your thoughts.” There’s a scoff from the right and Graham laughs, turning the camera to his friend. “Liam here is having some trouble.” He earns himself a glare from his companion. “There've been a lot of accidents in this area so this is your friendly reminder to be careful where you step and to respect the forest.”

“You’ve lectured every single lost or injured hiker we pulled out of these woods. Friendly, my arse.” Emma sucks in a breath at the sound of Liam Jones’ voice. Graham’s responding laughter and voice seems to sound from underwater as he defends himself. 

Please, help me, plea-

It’s the same voice. She feels the tingle in her spine and the raised hairs on her arms she had before. How could it be possible?

Sounds of yelps outside have her jumping from her seat, her heart beating rapidly against her chest. Subsequent cheering reminds her of her whereabouts. It’s the kids reacting to the anthropomorphic house finally meeting its demise on the small screen. Emma grips onto the kitchen counter, taking deep steadying breaths. 

She needs to have a chat with Killian Jones.

---

It’s rainy and gloomy the next day when Emma arrives at the hospital. 

Maybe the weather’s a sign. It’s not like she was ever a superstitious person but it’s hard to remain sceptical after the day she’s had. The nurse tells her he’s in room 13. Of course.

In the corridor, she sees a familiar figure. 

“I thought I told you to take the day off, Humbert.” 

Emma almost grins when he startles. Almost. She simply crosses her arms as she stares him down. Graham looks away, as if he just got caught in the proverbial cookie jar, it’s a cute look.

“I am taking my day off, Emma,” Graham defends and she raises her eyebrow. “I didn’t ask him anything that could be related to the case. I just-”

“Wanted to see how your friend was,” she finishes for him.

Graham stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and nods. “I just needed to make sure he was okay.”

“Because Liam would have wanted you to do the same.”

He looks up at her with wide eyes and parted lips. This might have been the first time she’s shocked her deputy in the year they’ve worked together.

“H-how…?”

“I did some research last night.” She uncrosses her arms to stuff her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I found Killian Jones’ social media, which led me to Liam’s, to Belle’s and then to yours. You were his deputy.”

“The four of us bonded over being away from home.” He shrugs, trying to hide the heartache over the loss. “After Liam passed, it all fell apart.”

“I’d never seen Killian Jones in Storybrooke before today, or Belle French.”

“Killian left after the funeral, said something about a family member in Boston even though I’m sure they didn’t have any family in the States. He rejected all my calls, I had no way to find him.” Graham sighs, scratching his forehead. “Belle isolated herself the first few months. After that she would go from home to work and back. She’s been trying to go out more, determined to live her life the way Liam would have wanted her to. It’s still a slow process but at least she’s trying.”

“And here you are in the middle of everything trying to be there for everyone.”

“I didn’t lose a brother or a fiance, Emma, I’m fine.” He crosses his arms and she recognises the look on his face.

“Right, if you want me to be ‘bad cop’, I will,” she threatens.

“Seriously, Emma, I’m fine, it’s been a year and-”

“Graham,” she interrupts, holding up her hand. “Go see Dr. Hopper or I’m suspending you.”

He groans and yet, it feels like a victory. “Yes, boss.” He mockingly salutes and yet it still shows his respect.

“Go home and enjoy the rest of the day off while I go and talk to Mr. Jones.” Emma pats his arm and he nods. 

“I told him to tell you everything he could remember,” Graham informs her. “I know you can do your job but he can be very stubborn so I just wanted to make it a little easier for you.”

“Thanks,” Emma smiles amusedly and watches as he walks past her. “Hey, Graham?” He stops in the corridor and she can’t hold back her curiosity. “Liam was the sheriff before me,” Graham shifts in his feet, uncomfortable. “Did you apply for the job? I’d think you’d be a shoe-in to be the next Sheriff as opposed to an outsider.”

“Nah,” He shrugs and she can actually see the weight on his shoulders. “It wouldn’t have felt right.” His lips curl up in a small smile, a grieving smile. “Besides, you are a great boss.” 

Emma rolls her eyes but her smile is wide. “Get some rest and go see Dr. Hopper.” 

“Yes, boss,” he repeats before he leaves the hospital wing all together.

With a deep steadying breath, Emma knocks at the door of room 13.

“Come in.”

She nods to herself before opening the door. “Mr. Jones, I’m-”

“Sheriff Emma Swan,” Killian Jones nods at her. “Graham told me you were coming. Didn’t expect you here so fast though.”

“As it happens, you’re my only open case.”

She stands a few feet from his bed, arms crossed as she finally takes a look at the man they saved the day before, now no-longer covered in blood and dirt. There is a bandage on his forehead all the way down to the temple, his face, neck and hands - the only things visible - filled with small scratches, and his leg is in a thick cast. He looks tired but okay.

He looks handsome too and she’s trying not to remember his boat pictures. It helps that the hospital gown and robe cover his chest and what she knows is underneath. She’s really trying. 

“Why don’t you take a seat?” He gestures to the chair next to his bed, where she assumes Graham had been seated minutes prior. “We’re probably in for a long chat.”

She should refuse, keep him at a distance. She sits down but not before pulling the chair back a few inches. Emma catches an amused smile on his lips and she wonders what else Graham told him about her. She clears her throat focusing on being professional.

“Alright, Mr. Jones-”

“Please, call me Killian.” 

Emma nods, trying to look away from the soft smile he directed at her. “Killian.” His smile grows. Professional, Emma. “Do you remember what happened before we found you?”

“Aye,” It’s his turn to clear his throat at the wavering tone of his voice. “The ground slid out from under me and I fell, hit my head and broke my leg.”

His tone was distant, factual, and it sounded wrong in his voice. “What were you doing in that part of the woods?”

“I-uh, I went there to drink.”

“We didn’t find any evidence of alcoholic beverages and your blood alcohol levels were very low.” She raises her eyebrow at his half-truth. “Let me tell you a little secret.” She leans forward, her elbows on her knees. “I-”

“Have a thing with lies.” There is a small smile on his lips at Emma’s surprised expression. “Graham told me about that.”

“Right.” It takes her a second to recover from the surprise. “If you know, why don’t we avoid lying or, in this case, omitting part of the story and you tell me the truth.”

“Commanding, I like it.” He smirks weakly and at the roll of her eyes, he nods in preparation, his expression turning serious. “I was there to mourn my brother, Liam.” 

“Why not go to the cemetery? I’m sure you’ve heard how dangerous that part of the woods is.”

“That’s where he died,” His voice is low and she can only just hear it over the beeping of the machines. “Graham and the others found his body wrapped around on a rock in the river the next morning. He’d bled out during the night.” 

“So he got injured the day before? How did no one notice he was gone for so long?” She doesn’t mean for her voice to sound accusing but from the guilty self-punishing look in Killian’s face, that’s how he would describe it.

“A few weeks before he passed, I went through a break-up,” he sighs, settling carefully on the pillows at his back and Emma does the same on the cushioned chair. “I had fallen in love with a married woman.” She tries to contain her surprise and apprehension but it’s like he can see everything she tries to hide. “I know, I got an earful from my brother when we started dating. But she promised that she was going to divorce her husband as soon as she could find a good lawyer so she could guarantee a joint custody deal.”

“She has a child?”

He nods and his frown is enough for her to understand his conflict. “We kept it a secret. We didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardise her relationship with her son. Liam kept telling me how reckless I was being, how naive, but I kept shutting him down. I was in love.” He shrugs. “After a while he stopped trying and I was happy.”

“Her husband found out.” It wasn’t a question.

“I got greedy, selfish,” Killian’s tone turns hard, self-loathing. “We went to a cafe in town and she was nervous but I was happy, I was out in public with the love of my life.” He shakes his head with a scoff. “Her husband walked in with her son right behind him and I considered it luck that the cafe was almost empty. The boy came up to us first, asking his mom why she was there and who I was. I didn’t know what to say and her husband was looking at me like he wanted to kill me.” Killian sighs. “She asked me to leave and that she would talk to me later.”

“I’m assuming it didn’t go well.”

He actually laughs, a sharp, terrible sound. “I had gotten myself into a state when she finally met me. We yelled at each other, she accused me of pushing, I accused her of playing with my feelings. When she finally told me that she almost lost her son because of me, I shut up. She told me she was going to go back to her husband, that he was willing to take her back after the stupid mistake she made and then she left.” He finishes with a sigh and Emma leans back on her chair, overwhelmed. “I didn’t take it well.”

“Who would?” 

His chuckle brings her eyes back to his and despite the pain behind them, there’s an amused glint in the blue eyes that definitely do not get captured well in pictures. “For the next few weeks, I started drinking. A lot. I didn’t want to see Liam’s disappointment or self-righteousness so I distanced myself. That day, he barged into my house, took one look at the half-empty bottle in my hand and went off on me.” He shifts in his bed, hissing when his leg moves wrong. “I can see now that he was scared but at that moment I was angry. We argued and I told him that I never wanted to see him again and he left my house.”

“Is that why no one filed a missing persons report?”

He nods and his eyes water. “I drank the whole night after he left and the next day, I woke up to someone banging on my door. It was Belle.” His breath shudders. “She had been trying to call him all morning. Liam had told her that he would be coming to my place so she thought he’d stayed the night, when he didn’t text her or call her the next morning, she started to get worried. That fear, the feeling that someone had gone wrong to someone you love, was the sharpest cure for a hangover I ever had.” They both shared a mirthless chuckle. “We called Graham right away and when he didn’t know where Liam was, it became a town wide search.” He takes a deep breath. “Graham found his car parked at Toll Bridge and searched through Misthaven Trail.”

“He fell.” Emma wrings her fingers as she watches the emotions in Killian’s face.

“He left his phone in the car so when he fell into the river, he couldn’t call for help.” He sniffs, staring at the wall in front of him. “So imagine my surprise when you and Graham showed up to my rescue despite the fact that I also left my phone in my car and no one knew I was even in town.” Killian turns to her, his eyes still full of pain but a curious small smile gracing his lips.

Emma tucks her hair behind her ear in a nervous move and leans back on the chair. “It’s like I told you yesterday, we received a call that helped us find you.”

“Right,” he frowns. “And as I just said, I left my phone in the car, so it’s impossible.” 

She sighs. “I’m aware of that and, trust me, I’ve spent the whole night trying to figure it out and the only explanation I have is impossible.”

“Try me.”

Emma opens and closes her mouth a few times while Killian looks on patiently. “All our calls are recorded,” she says instead, pulling her phone from her pocket. “Before I came here, I went by the station to download the recording, so I’m just gonna play it for you.” Killian raises an eyebrow while Emma brings up the file.

“Sheriff Swan speaking.”

Static rings out from the speaker and she tenses up all over again. “Help, I-I fell-” Killian gasps and she gives in to his silent request and hands him the phone. “The cliff gave out. Can you hear me?”

“Uh, yes, yes, I can hear you, sir. Can you tell me where you fell?”

“I w-was on the Misthaven Trail, I-I think I broke my leg,” Killian’s eyes shine with tears at his brother’s voice, at his sounds of pain and Emma feels her chest tighten. “I can see the bone, I-”

Static plays up again and she is dreading the end of the call. “I can barely hear you, sir.” His knuckles turn white from where he is gripping the phone and a tear falls down his cheek. “Can you tell me precisely where on the trail?”

“The river, Shepherd River. I’m bleeding, please, help me, plea-”

Killian takes a shuddering breath when the recording ends and the phone drops on the bed. She should grab the phone and give him space. She should ask him questions about it. And yet, Emma finds herself grabbing his trembling hand with hers, her whole skin tingling at the touch. He grips her hand back tighter, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

“H-How-,” he whispers in a broken tone. “That’s my brother’s voice but-but how is it possible?”

Killian looks at her, pleading for an answer, for an explanation. But she can’t give him one. Emma shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.” Her thumb moves unconsciously over his knuckles. “But if it wasn’t for this call, we wouldn’t have found you.”

To her surprise, Killian starts to laugh even as tears fall down his face, a disbelieving sound. “I can’t believe this.” He covers his face with his free hand and Emma squeezes his hand, silently asking for clarification. He sighs and looks at her, his eyes bluer than they’d been before. “I ran away after the funeral, they had barely finished covering the casket and I was crossing the town line. I knew Belle needed me to stay, Graham too, we should have mourned together, helped each other during this but I-I-”

“You blamed yourself.”

He exhales a laugh. “Aye, stupidly tried to find answers at the bottom of a bottle once again. I just kept replaying our last argument, kept seeing him bleeding out in the river and I knew I couldn’t grieve when I knew it was my fault.”

Emma opens her mouth to protest but Killian raises his hand, stilling the words she still wasn’t sure she would say. “After a night where I was almost inducted into this woman’s witchy cult,” and she really wishes she had the chance to ask about that, “I looked for help. Found a therapist, grieved. A week ago, I told him about the anniversary of Liam’s death coming up and he suggested I visit his grave, talk to him, ask for forgiveness.” He sighs. “I was on my way to the cemetery when I found myself on the Toll Bridge. I thought it was a sign when I found the marker Graham made to honour Liam. I sat there and talked to him, I didn’t realise how much anger I still felt towards him dying, abandoning me.” He laughed sarcastically. “Ridiculous, I know. I threw my flask and I felt the ground slide from under me and I thought ‘there it is, your revenge, Liam, you’re finally punishing your killer’.”

“And then we showed up.”

“And I thought that maybe you had appeared for a reason and now hearing that?” He looks at her embarrassed, shaking his head. “I sound like a crazy person but-”

“I thought I was crazy,” Emma interrupts him with a reassuring smile. “Common sense would have you think the call was a prank. But from the moment I got the call, my instincts told me something wasn’t right, that there was more to the story.”

“I’m really glad you decided to go with your instinct, then,” he smiles softly. “If you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have made it.”

“But you did.” She squeezes his hand and they both seem to remember that their hands are still clasped together. She doesn’t let go and neither does he. “And if we are to believe in ghost stories, your brother is adamant that you get a second chance.” 

They lock eyes, share a soft smile and she figures professionalism has been thrown out the window from the moment she took his hand. He nods and his smile widens. She kinda wishes they could hold hands forever.  

Wait, what?

“You may be right.” His voice is soft and it feels like he’s trying to look inside her, searching. “He’d probably beat up the side of the head that it took me this long to get my head out of my own arse.”

Emma chuckles and his smile widens. “I don’t think he expected you to break your leg and your head to get the message across.”

“Well,” his lips curve into a side smirk and she’s not ready for it, “I’m guessing that the service in the afterlife is a little spotty.” She laughs, surprised at his joke, and he laughs with her. Nope, she was not ready. “My brother always gave me good advice, maybe I should follow this last one too and take that second chance he gave me.”

“Oh?”

Her heart hammers against her chest at the way he looks at her. He opens his mouth to answer when the room door bursts open.

“Killian Jones!”

Emma jumps from her seat, refusing to acknowledge how empty her hand feels now that it’s no longer holding his, to make space for the shorter brunette storming up to Killian’s bed. 

Belle French.

“I haven’t heard from you in a whole year and then I have Graham calling me to tell me you’re in the hospital?!”

But Killian only smiles, clearly happy to see his would-be sister-in-law despite the guilt beginning to take root in his eyes. “I’m so happy to see you, Belle.” And it’s clear that the simple sentence breaks something in the librarian’s being. With two quick strides, she embraces him tightly. “Careful, love, I’m an invalid now,” he complains, even as his arms hold her closer, willing to ignore any pain it might be causing him. 

“You’re in a world of trouble, Killian.”

His smile only widens and he turns to look at Emma, likely amused at the overwhelmed look on her face. Belle seems to realise that there’s someone else in the room - not that Emma blames her - and turns to her.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I-”

“No need to apologise,” Emma raises her hand to stop the apology. “I just needed to take Mr. Jones’ testimony.” He raises an eyebrow at her use of his last name, clearly unimpressed by her choice to be professional. “Sheriff Emma Swan,” she introduces herself before holding out her hand.

“Belle French.” Belle takes her hand, still somewhat surprised as she looks between Killian and her. “Is he in some kind of trouble then?” Her expression seems ready for a fight and Killian’s smile seems to grow.

“No, no,” Emma is quick to appease. “I just needed the full story, that’s all.” She stuffs her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I actually should go write up the report.” She takes a few steps back towards the door. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss French. Get better soon, Mr. Jones.”

She starts to walk out the door. “Emma,” Killian calls and she really should not have turned around so fast. “Maybe we can grab a coffee when I get discharged? You can tell me all about safety measures when hiking.”

Emma tries to ignore Belle’s curious expression. “I think Graham might be the better man for the job.”

“He’s been trying for years, it never stuck,” He grins and there’s only so much a girl can be expected to take. “Maybe you’ll have more luck.”

She bites her lip and focuses on the hopeful look in his eyes. The last time she trusted someone, that she gave someone a chance, she ended up in prison. She should say no. 

Maybe she can justify this leap on supernatural activity too?

“It’s a date.”

The way his grin lights up a whole room does feel otherworldly. 

Just as the door closes behind her, she hears Belle’s stupefied voice.

“Killian Jones, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Emma laughs. Maybe not all ghost stories have to have bad endings.

[dykedvonte]

why do you hate Joshua Graham or Honest Hearts so much?

This DLC and character represents a bigger issue with fandom spaces I have but particularly fallout fandom in general.

Fallout tends to tackle a lot of topics controversial and not. The first two games it’s heavy cause they are the most satirical and direct with how anti-war, nationalism and etc… they are. 3 loses this as it’s very clear once you play or learn about all the games that Todd and a bunch of guys at Bethesda just liked the 50s post apocalyptic aesthetic and refuse to actually critique the ideals of the time period like the earlier titles.

New Vegas is the game that really gets back into it a degree it almost seems like it’s taking too much on. There are things done exceedingly well while other things are done horribly wrong . I’ve made posts about it before and plan to make a big series of posts (it’s a lot of writing) but my biggest gripe is with Honest Hearts and all the gross and white savior esque depictions it has of indigenous peoples. The entirety if FNV does not do the injustices faced by indigenous people correctly on any count. My two biggest complaints are with the Khans and the tribes in Zion but I’ll talk about the former on a different post.

Both characters of Daniel and Joshua are the most accurate depiction of white saviors I’ve seen and I hate how the DLC tries to justify and defend them. The DLC treats Joshua like this man who has repented for his past actions when he is just retracing his steps after his cruelty bit him in the ass. He was one of the worst parts of the Legion and it is all but explicitly stated that if you don’t force him to be non-violent he will turn the tribes of Zion into the legion 2.0. The Dead Horses and the Sorrows are horribly infantilized by both Daniel and Joshua who both use them for self serving purposes guised by religious duty. The White Legs are the horrible stereotype of violent and savage indigenous and I personally think a lot of their interlinking with Ulysses, his hair and Ulysses character in general are distasteful and very telling of how BIPOC or POC where involved.

But outside of the game it’s the weird obsession people have with these characters ideologies and trying to make them seem more interesting/philosophical than they are. Tumblr is an echo chamber and many fans of Fallout are not the people on this site. Many people are not educated in the issues these characters convey and how poorly they do or used these characters as a poor introduction for their takes. Contrary to what a lot of people believe in, fallout has a prediomeny white cis male fanbase. More importantly a large portion of the fanbase is white.

You can joke how FNV made you trans or see the numbers on post/fics or diverse headcanons but these are kiddy numbers compared to the millions that consume the franchise and aren’t in those more aware spaces or don’t engage in the spaces the same way someone like me does/has to. Their views shape a lot more than people realize and it’s exhausting to be in a space where people don’t correct the more subtle yet toxic aspects of it but also adopt them into some weird quirky view point on the characters or issues. Some people don’t realize and some people don’t care.

My main issue is just the idolizing of these sort of thing in this fandom space and people try to acts like a game like fallout whose tagline is “War never changes” and has never had a game not revolve around political or militaristic factions issues isn’t that deep or doesn’t relate to real issues. I think it’s mainly caused by how over powered you can become and how you can strong arm your way past these learning moments as majority of people who play this game do play it as a power fantasy where they can do so as they please (which of course, go ahead it’s fun) but never take in parallels or lessons in the story as if it was just another first person shooter.

Also like another personal gripe is Cazadores spawn like hell whenever I’m there and I have not found a mod that works to mod them out so I have to play Indigenous Racism the DLC while getting jumped by giant wasps WHILE helping Mormons. Like I cannot catch a break.

[hoffmansnightmare]

Alright, now that I've had some sleep and time to process I can tell about how I met Costas Mandylor! Pics included!

Things went smoothly for the most part! The con is in my hometown and only a short drive. I was very excited but also super anxious! I'd had the art I'd drawn printed out and planned to buy another print for Costas to sign. Every scenario was running through my head, that'd he'd hug me and I'd make it weird, that he wouldn't hug me and just sign my things and then I'd feel bad I hadn't gotten a hug. Or maybe he'd ask me about the art, which I didn't really want to explain that it was from the fanfic I'm writing.

I tried to run through any responses that didn't make me sound like a total FREAK, or what'd I'd say to him in general. We got there at 2:30 and early entry wasn't until 4:30, but I knew from past experiences that it was best to try to line up as early as possible, so my husband, who was there mostly for moral support, and I went inside and for sure there was a line for registration started. At 3 they started checking us in and giving us our badges. We were pretty close to the front so I was feeling pretty good.

I didn't know how popular Costas was going to be. The last person I waited for was Robert Englund, and I waited 6 and a half hours just for him, and with the new movies bringing in more fans I wasn't sure how long of a wait I was in for and I wanted to be as close to the front as possible. Brad Dourif was also there so I was hoping he would be drawing most of the attention, and he was, but I was still nervous. We waited in another line for the celebs and we were right outside the door so I was feeling pretty confident at this point. C.J. Graham came out a few times to tease some of those waiting in line and to wonder the convention floor. I get the feeling that man has a hard time sitting still.

Then the doors open and half of the celebs weren't there. Now I do not blame them. I get the feeling that the staff of the con had some poor communication. I also met Dina Meyer, and her the staffer that was meant to sit with her wasn't there yet and she had to take money herself. I got her signature while I waited for Costas and she was very nice! Now the wait for Costas really started. I wasn't interested in many of the other celebrities. I did stop by Michael Ironside's booth because I'm a big V fan and Ham Tyler was one of my favorite's. He was behind as well, even when he got there we had to wait for them to get properly set up. Apparently they hadn't even been given his banner to put up. When he asked if I wanted it with my name him and my staffer looked up at with curiously and the staffer said "suspiciousssss"

"N-no! I just don't like my name on these things!" 😅 He probably thought I was going to sell it. I'm not Michael Ironside I swear!

With both Dina's and Michael's signatures a line had started at Costas's booth, so we mozied back over there to wait for him. Occasionally I'd look back at the massive line for Brad Dourif (who also wasn't there yet) and be glad I wasn't in that line. I'd done it for Robert Englund and could now rest in peace.

Around 5:30 someone shouted, "there he is!" And there he was! Just like that! I was suddenly looking at Costas Mandylor in person and he looked so excited to be there. I was third in line and I was really feeling the anxiety now. My fingertips were tingly and I was shaky on my feet. I have trouble asking for help at the grocery store, let alone face one of my favorite actors from some of my favorite movies. He was all smiles and high energy. I watched the woman right in front of me get a hug and he kissed her on both cheeks. Now not only was I worried about a hug, but would he kiss me too? I turned to my husband and said "if he does that you will be carrying my out of here."

My husband replies "nah if you faint he can carry you out of here"

He was kidding, but I wasn't. Hugs are a lot for me and a kiss on the cheek probably would have done me in. (I also had the horrible thought later that would have tried to kiss him on the lips out of instinct. I wouldn't have survived the embarrassment)

It was my turn and I was trying to keep it together, but I was shaking and trying to keep breathing. I'd handed my money to my husband to pay, as I didn't think I could sort through the bills, and then I was facing Costas, setting my art down in front of him.

He smiled up at me. "You drew this?"

"Yes!" I said, excited that he seemed impressed and also dreading any questions about it.

He complimented the art. I can't remember exactly what he said. I was like, in outer space in that moment.

"Do you want me to write anything? Personalize it with your name?" He asked next.

His voice his CRAZY nothing would have prepared me for hearing it in person and directed at me.

"Could you write "Congratulations"? It's a weird thing but that's what I'd like." I never get my name put on these things. I don't like my name that much and no one spells it right. It's not that hard of one but my spelling is apparently unpopular. He looked up at me and I think he was curious. Or maybe he knew I was a freak, but he smirked and wrote it for me anyway.

"Do you want my character name too?"

"Yes please!"

Once he was done he slid the second copy of the art I'd set down in front of him and asked "who do I make this one out to?"

"Oh no, that one is for you."

He looked confused, so I put it closer to him. "I printed this one out to give you."

He said "Oh!" Then looked at it. "You didn't sign it! If you're going to give me art sign it! And say something nice about me too!" And he set the sharpie in front of me.

I could have evaporated right there. I took the sharpie and wrote my signature as well as my full name and tried frantically to think of something quick I could write.

I landed on "You're my favorite Jigsaw" and when I handed it back to him for him to read he looked up at me with the sweetest expression. And I was absolutely honest. He is my favorite Jigsaw. He set it down behind him with a thank you and I set down the print I'd bought from his table.

Again I asked for just his signature. He pulled out a gold sharpie that was a little dry. "I hate dry markers" and he whipped it behind him dramatically as he watched me giggle at his antics. His staffer whipped out an entire case of markers and he picked up a fresh one "they ruin the signatures! Now I'm going to write a line I say in the next movie, I'm not even supposed to tell anyone, but I'll write it for you."

I was giddy and giggling the entire time at this point as I watched him write. I'm sure he's written for others, he's signed so many things for people at this point, but I still felt a little special. And I'm going to edit the pic to keep it to myself still just in case, but the fact that he still wanted to write something a little extra for me was so sweet.

Now it was time for the picture. I was shaking. A staffer volunteered but my husband insisted on taking the pictures. He's protective and wanted to make sure I got good ones. Costas put his arm around me and I put my around around his back and just focused on the camera. Then for the second picture Costas wrapped both arms around me and I was weak in the knees.

After the second picture he squeezed me tight. He said some things. Again I can't remember. Mercifully he didn't kiss me. On one hand of course that would have been amazing, on the other I really don't know if I could have handled it with any grace (or I might have fumbled it and wanted to die). I do remember him saying "you take care of yourself." In the most sincere way I'd ever heard those words spoken. And "I hope you see the new movie."

I said "of course and I can't wait to see you." And stepped back as my husband approached, and because I'm a total awkward weirdo I gestured at him and told Costas "this is my husband."

My husband is a big guy, 6'3" and visibly strong. Costas looks up at him with a big smile and holds his hand out for a shake, which my husband returns. Costas looks at me, still grinning and said "you have a strong husband."

I laughed. "I know"

Our time with him had to come to an end and I had to ESCAPE. The hyperventilating had started and I needed to get out of the crowd. We escaped the celeb room. I put my precious prints in the car and we shifted our focus to food.

The rest of the day was exploring the rest of the con! My time meeting Costas was amazing and I definitely want to see him again in the future. I'm staying home the rest of the con. I could go see him again but honestly I don't like being perceived that much and I don't want him thinking anything weird about me (he probably wouldn't but I'd feel so self conscious.) I'll see him again at a later con, but for now I'm content with meeting him this time.

Below are my signed pictures! I had Dina sign a third copy of my art that I'll probably fill up with other Saw actors. The Michael print has "Hey Gooder" on it teehee!

[teosartcorner]

I have a small batch of sketches for you today, and a half-introduction of a new fella from the D&B-verse! 👀

This is Doug "Dougie" Graham (born Doug Anderson, but he decided that Graham—his mum's maiden name—would be a far better fit; his dad can rot in hell, in his very humble opinion). Or, to be more specific, this was him back in the ‘80s. Don’t worry, he’s still around today, he’s just older (65, to be precise)!

A kind soul with a bit of a troubled upbringing, someone whose life started off by giving him a tiny bit more than he could take, but who managed to find his way through it all, step by step—that’s Dougie for you. A smart lad with a big heart and an even bigger sense of sass, always longing for meaningful connections with people (but somewhat afraid to pursue them to their full potential, at least in his younger years). A good person, but prone to getting into occasional questionable stuff (he used to dabble in drug dealing on the side of his more… adequate activities, and was a user himself; he even used to be Malcolm’s occasional weed dealer, back in the days, which is actually how the two met 😂).

Speaking of which, Dougie is a close friend of the Macaulays. He befriended both Malcolm and Brandy back in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s (not at the same time, though), and has been a friend of the family to this day (the twins love him!). Dougie actually kinda is the reason why Brandy and Malcolm even met, if one thinks about it. It all happened during his birthday party from May, 1985, after all! A very fun and memorable night, for… various different reasons. 🌝🤣

So yeah, say “Hi!” to Dougie! I plan to make a proper introductory post for him, too, but this man has been on my mind ever since he showed up in my brain for the first time. If I hadn’t posted him anytime soon, I would have simply withered and died. So yeah, I will be back at some point with more info and whatnot, but for now I’ll leave you with this rambly-ish blurb. 😂

[captmickey]

Graham has found a dusty door in one of Daventry Castle’s basements (disused dungeon?). It is locked, and they have no key. The guards are defensive and take charge. Do they get in and what’s behind it, or are they forced to give up and it remains a mystery?

I'm so so so sorry it took forever and a half, I was just debating how the story should go and then got busy and-- well, now I had time. And a story.

So here ya go! ---

“Leave it to you to find something that was not meant to be found.” Number One grumbled, standing with his arms crossed as Graham kneeled in front of the dusty door attempting (and failing) to pick at the lock.

“If it wasn’t meant to be found, it should have been turned into a wall.” Graham pointed out.

“It was hidden behind one. AND a tapestry.” 

“Then whoever bricked up the wall did a poor job.”

“Wasn’t our fault the budget was abysmal during the Missing Treasure Fiasco.” Number One muttered just below enough so none of the other guards could hear, but Graham heard clearly.

“Say, why was it bricked up in the first place?” Number Two asked, leaning on the adjacent wall as Graham continued to pick at it. “I don’t recall that being a thing.”

“It was something spoken exclusively between the late King Edward, Gideon, and myself.”

“Gideon?” Graham looked up.

“Our original captain before Ken took over.” Number Two explained.

“Number Two!” Number One snapped at him. “On duty–”

“Names aren’t to be used, yeah yeah, I know.”

“I can see your blasted eye roll from here.”

“Can you see this too?” A pause. “On second thought, nevermind, the helmet tastes terrible.”

“Disgusting.” Number One stated.

Graham sighed and lowered the lockpick tool. It looked so much easier when Ginger or Anisette did it, maybe it was the movement of his wrist?

“Giving up?” Number Two asked.

“Never.” Graham stood up, pocketing away the kit and placing his hands on his hips. “Just… are you sure there’s no key?”

“Positive!” Kyle shouted from down the hall as he came running down the hallway with Larry stacked on top. “We just examined every nook and cranny and found nothing.”

“Did Number Three find anything?” Number Two asked.

“Also nothing, but she said she wanted to give it one more go with Number Sixty Four in regards to the whereabouts of all the keys.” Kyle said. “So until then, we got nothing.”

“Sorry, Majesty.” Larry apologized.

“No need to apologize. I appreciate it, thank you.” Graham said before turning his attention to Number One. “What was this place before, anyways? I don’t recall seeing it on the castle plan when I first came to rule.”

All their attention went to Number One who was standing back with his arms crossed, looking to be anywhere but here before sighing and leaning his head back to exhale through his nose. 

“It used to be part of the dungeons.” He answered. “Before King Edward’s time, this castle had excess dungeons for enemies… though stars help me, I wouldn’t constitute goblins or faeries as enemies so long as you don’t step on their turf. Maybe the average thief or assassin, but they’re so far and few in between one could arguably say they’re not even worth a thought.” 

“Goblins aren’t to be taken lightly…” Graham rubbed his arm from the last encounter he had with one of them tossing their brethren at him like a common snowball.

“But when King Edward realized that it wasn’t making Daventry much allies, he had it ordered that these dungeons be transformed into storage, as you can plainly see by the one-too-many-boxes that I’m dying to be rid of but life insists some other trivial matter takes top priority.” Number One finished. “Such as that blasted door.”

“So this door is another dungeon?” Graham pressed.

Number One paused and ‘hmm’ just quietly enough in contemplation. 

“Wait, is it?” Kyle spoke up, shocked.

“Is this for the more intense criminals? Traitors of Daventry?” Larry added.

“Clearly it’s bad enough if it was sealed behind a wall and a tapestry… say, lad, how’d you come across this place, anyways?” Number Two asked.

“I was just strolling about, trying to get a hang of the castle’s layout when I saw the door that led in here… and then I heard a whistling sound and I followed it to here.” Graham explained. 

“And you’ve been trying to open it since?” Larry asked.

He pulled out the lockpick kit and showed them. “With nothing but failure to show for it.”

“Shame, was really looking forward to know what was behind that door.” Kyle sighed.

“I didn’t think I found something so cryptic. W-what is behind that door, Number One?” Graham looked at the captain who had remained frighteningly quiet, still humming under his helmet.

“Ken?” Number Two pressed. He looked away when Number One gave him a sharp stare. “Sorry, Number One.”

“Actually… I’m not quite sure.” He confessed. “I only came to the conversation as they were discussing sealing it up, but I never knew what it was.”

“So, aren’t you just a little bit curious?” Number Two asked, going over and draping an arm around him. “You are the head of the Royal Guard and the lad here is our king and is oh so curious what’s behind that door.”

“You just want to know what’s there.” Number One bluntly stated.

“Don’t you?” Graham asked, getting a bark of a laugh from the second in command. 

“Sorry, sir, but we won’t be able to go back to our usual work until we figure out what’s behind the door.” Kyle said.

“And that’s two less guards that can patrol considering we’re inseparable.” Larry added.

“We don’t have the key and none of us are exactly proficient with breaking and entering.” Number One said. “And if we slam the door down, who knows what sort of damage it could do.”

“We could always take it off the hinges.” Number Three’s voice rang through as she walked over to them. “Or is it too rusted?”

“Going to assume rusted…” Graham admitted, looking now at the hingest. “But maybe a good strike would make it crumble. I could– huh?”

He felt Larry and Kyle pulling him to the side and saw Number One give a nod. 

“You won’t be touching that door anymore, Your Majesty.” Number One stated. 

“But I want to see what’s behind the door!” Graham pouted. 

“Who said we won’t?” Number One looked at him. “No offense, Pockets, but with your luck, the door could potentially fall on you much like last week’s avalanche.” 

He recalled the time Number One caught him trapped under a pile of addendums. It was one of those memories where his face burned so hot as Number One fell to his knees and was wheezing with tears staining his face. His cheeks turned red slightly. 

“Exactly.” He drew out his sword. “Number Two, Number Three, please stand ready to catch the door.”

“Sir!” The two saluted and walked into position.

Number One raised the hilt of the sword and gave a solid whack to the rusted hinges, startling himself as it collapsed just as Number Three said it would. 

“One down!” Number Three cheered.

“Two to go!” Number Two cheered as well.

“Go Number One!” Graham pumped his fists.

“It’s just a rusted door hinge.” Number One muttered. “Hardly anything to cheer about.”

He whacked at the other two hinges and just like the first one, they collapsed as though it were nothing. The door teetered back and forth but couldn’t fall in either direction as both Number Two and Number Three caught it and carefully moved it to the side, revealing the inside of the room to the six of them. 

Graham took a step before getting, once more, harshly yanked back by Kyle and Larry as Number One stepped in first.

“Hey, wait a second, I was the one who found it, why don’t I get a first look?!” Graham called out.

“You’re the King.” All the Royal Guards reminded him in a unison that was done one too many times.

“Right. That.” Graham’s ears burned.

Number One shook his head and stepped inside, his sword still drawn just in case. As he took a look, he sheathed his weapon and placed his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed underneath his helmet. “It’s safe for Pockets.”

Quickly in a blur of red and blue, Graham rushed in and looked around trying to take in the sight. There was a window with a broken glass, allowing undoubtedly the wind to whistle for his attention. Surrounded were barrels and barrels of rolled up parchments, tapestries that had to deal with decades of the elements but still told its story, treasure chests stacked on top of one another like a makeshift mountain.

It looked, frankly, like another one of those storages just outside.

Graham’s shoulders sagged, disappointment read loud and clear as he let out a sigh.

“Well.” Larry spoke up, having unstacked off of Kyle so that the two could look at the room. “This is frankly disappointing.”

“I’m a bit sad, if I’m being quite honest.” Kyle frowned.

“I thought it would be gold.” Number Two sighed. 

“Why would they seal up gold?” Number Three stared at him. “That makes no sense.”

“Unless it was cursed.” He countered. “Everyone seals up cursed gold.”

“But why—”

“Like pirates!” Kyle joked.

She paused and quietly agreed. 

Graham looked around as the guards got into a conversation about a PIrate King of Daventry and pulled one of the scrolls from the barrel, making sure to handle it with absolute care in case it would disintegrate in his hands. He tilted his head and rolled it back up, pulling another one and unfurled that as well as he pulled it closer to read.

Number One noticed his sudden change in expression and walked over, his hand on the hilt of the blade as he tapped Graham’s shoulder.

“Something about it caught your eye?” Number One asked.

To his surprise, Graham turned to look at him with stars in his eyes and a smile that shined brighter than any gold. 

“These are maps to all the treasures in Daventry.” Graham said. 

“We’re not short on gold, sire–”

“No. Not treasure as in gold.” Graham handed the parchment to Number One. “Treasures as in all the hidden legends of Daventry. Not just the floating island.”

“They could belong to faes or goblins.” Number One warned, but the excitement of a new discovery of his homeland was bubbling. 

“We’re not gonna conquer, but we can befriend. Make allies.” Graham explained. “You said King Edward tried to make peace once with the faeries, elves, and such?”

“With poor success, yes.”

Graham tapped at it. “We can do it. We can go and find them, ask for an audience and build a strong relationship. Plus… wouldn’t it be grand to see what more stories Daventry has to offer?”

Number One stared at the parchment and the various barrels, realizing that there was much to Daventry that was left to be properly explored. He looked at Graham with that excited and welcoming smile of his… he rolled it up and sighed.

“If there is anyone that could make an audience with them… it’d be you, Pockets.”

“Well then, lets get to work!”

[k-s-morgan]

What is your HC for Will’s sexuality? Do you see him as bisexual? Also if we only consider canon, is Will a straight man who happened to fall in love with one man (Hannibal)? Sorry for my ignorance here as I am not part of the queer community, but if a straight man falls in love with just one man in particular and doesn’t feel attracted to others, is he considered bisexual? Because I think this is where Will fits. I personally don’t think he’d be attracted to any other men, just Hannibal.

What do you think?

Hi! I don't have a clear headcanon here, but I enjoy speculating because I adore Will as a character.

To note, I won’t be relying on Bryan’s words in this meta as he gave us three different versions of Will’s sexuality, where he called him heterosexual with Hannibal being his possible exception (Bryan: I feel one is omnisexual and one is heterosexual and there's a lot of influence going back and forth, who knows with a six pack of beer what would happen), hinted at Will’s bisexuality (Bryan: You can have this intimate connection with somebody that then causes you to wonder where the lines of your own sexuality are), and implied that Will might be gay (Bryan on Twitter: “YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO BREED” #SUBTEXT #HANNIGRAM #WhatAreYouBecoming). These tags point out not simply to Will’s darkness, but to the other things he (possibly) represses.

So, I think only the show itself should be taken into account when discussing this topic. On the surface, we see Will interested in Alana in S1, sleeping with Margot in S2, and marrying Molly in S3 — and of course, falling in love with Hannibal in the process of all 3 seasons. However, the three women in his life are united by some common aspects — namely, 1) they are perfectly safe and ordinary (with maybe Margot being an exception, but her own sexuality plays a role in this); 2) Will never develops any real emotional connection with any of them. To be more specific.

Alana

We first hear Will referring to Alana in E1 of S1, when he just distantly calls her by her last name. In the course of their time together, Will never seeks Alana out himself. It is Alana who comes to his class, or to the hospital, or to his home — Will does flirt with her, and he kisses her first, but he never appears genuinely interested because he never seems to think about her unless she comes to him. The only exception I personally remember is in E8, where we learn that Will called Alana and invited her over to help him find an animal that was attacked by coyote. Still, the script offers an interesting bit here.

WILL GRAHAM: I invited you over on the off chance we find it alive. Hard to wrangle a wounded animal by myself. (then, realizing) Did you think it was a date?

ALANA BLOOM: Honestly, it never crossed my mind.

Will is at first relieved, then almost disappointed.

So, why relieved? And why flirt with Alana at all if he isn’t actually interested? As I see it, Alana is a very normal, perfectly safe and socially acceptable choice, a nice beautiful woman whose acceptance is clearly important to Will. We know that Will is fighting his demons all the time — he desperately wants to be normal, to bury the darkness inside him. I would say, to him, an acceptance by such a normal person as Alana would mean that there is nothing wrong with him and that he can be normal, too. Now, I can’t say if it was really planned or if it is just a set of coincidences, but I think that the theory that makes most sense is that Will was attracted to Alana’s normalcy first and foremost. He craved an ordinary life at that point, and Alana was someone who could give it to him. The more time passes, the stronger Hannibal and Will’s bond gets, the colder Will acts with Alana. By S3, he doesn’t even know that she had a child and who she is with, so they obviously do not keep any contact. For these reasons, Will never appears emotionally invested in their relationship to me — he remembers about Alana only when she comes to him, like he is only interested in her because she is the only woman he is friends with, someone he doesn’t have to try hard with.

The only aspect that points to the sincerity of Will’s attraction to Alana is his words to Hannibal — that he wanted to kiss her since he’d met her as she’s very kissable. I can interpret it in two different ways. Will can be truly attracted to Alana or he might be so repressed that he thinks he wants things that he doesn’t (and we do have a precedent here — Will tries to deny who he really is in regard to his darkness for quite a long time).

Margot

I think we can all agree that Will was never emotionally interested in Margot. Like with Alana, it is Margot who seeks him out, and Margot is the one to initiate sex. Why does Will agree to it? Just because he wants it? I think it is possible, but I also think it’d be a little out of character for him for several reasons. Will knows Margot has some agenda. He knows she is not interested in sex with him because she admitted she is a lesbian. When she makes her move, Will tells her, "I've got the wrong parts for your proclivities". So he knows the truth, yet still agrees to have sex with her, and during this process, he doesn’t really see Margot. He sees Alana, Hannibal, and a Stag Man– a being that symbolizes his and Hannibal’s connection. More than that, he reaches orgasm only when the Stag Man appears. So, it is equally possible to read this scene as Will’s attempt to engage into the most natural activity in the world — sex with a woman, but he still fails at it by dragging a man and a monster into it.

Molly

Molly is a character who seems alien in the world of the show because she’s the embodiment of normalcy. Will marries her, and we can surely assume they have sex, but from the first seconds of their scenes, it is clear that emotional intimacy between them is missing. Molly and Walter go fishing, an activity that Will enjoys deeply and that could be a uniting hobby for him and his new family. However, Molly and Walter go alone, Will stays home. In all their scenes together, Will never initiates contact between them — he never attempts to touch Molly, sometimes even going out of his way to avoid it. In the hospital, after Dolarhyde’s attack, Will still doesn’t touch her, though his hand twitches as if he considers it. In the second scene, he touches the pillow near Molly’s head, which is so awkward and embarrassing that I’d personally never be able to tell these people are married. The most important thing, Will doesn’t return her ‘I love you’, which is very deliberate. Hannibal tells him that he has chosen a ready-made family, and Will doesn’t argue with it. He goes to Hannibal at the first opportunity because he missed him, not because he needed his help, and then after Dolarhyde’s attack and after learning Hannibal is in love with him, Will easily discards both Molly and Walter and we never see them again. He basically breaks up with Molly back at the hospital, as if her first contact with something not normal taints her in his eyes, breaks the normalcy he thought he needed from her.

So, it is clear that Will never really developed emotional bonds with women in his life. Was he truly attracted to them, or did he like them for the cover of normalcy they could potentially provide for him? I wouldn’t be surprised if Will turned out to be flexible, bisexual, or gay, as it is really open to interpretation and there is enough subtext to support every version. I used to think that Will was bi, but I also wonder if his possible repressed homosexuality could be one the factors that made his fight with himself so intense. Taking into account the area where Will has grown, to him, it is bad enough that he is a killer — he’s also a gay one at that. I think it could enhance his struggle through S1-3 and his slow realization that adhering to social norms in all ways does not make him happy.

Then again, I think Will’s sexuality doesn’t actually even matter at this point because after all seasons, there is only one person who is going to be a permanent part of his life, among all men and women — Hannibal. We have seen that neither Will nor Hannibal can tolerate the other’s partners, and with rich sexual subtext between the two of them, I believe they will easily move forward in their relationship post-fall.

[eggcompany]

Will Graham is Honey Sweet

Will surprises Hannibal at work. He put on a cute new set of green lingerie and came to help Hannibal 'relax'. That doesn't go as planned....

“hey daddy” is all Will said as he walked up to Hannibal at his desk. Hannibal was up to his ears in work but Will was all caught up grading and Jack had nothing for him.

“Hello Will, how’re yo- aw baby how cute!” Hannibal looked up and once he saw his baby he reclined in his chair, smiling.

“Wanted to surprise you! Just got it and wanted you to see... like it?” Will said.

Will had worn his longest coat and a loose pair of jeans and a pair of black easy lace up boots but underneath? Green lace stockings, matching green panties, and garter belt that finished off the matching set. He had slipped his jeans, boots, and coat off in the entry of Hannibal’s office.

Hannibal smiled as Will did one slow spin. Will looked a bit nervous even though he’d surprised Hannibal at work many times before.

“Oh I love it baby! Love when you surprise me. You look so cute, you always look cute in green. When did you get this little outfit?” Hannibal placed his hands on his baby’s hips as soon as the younger man was in between Hannibal’s knees. Will looked stunning to Hannibal. All lithe muscle and warm skin wrapped in green like wrapping of a present.

Will had a pretty blush reaching from his cheeks down his chest.

“Got it with the black ones and a few other ones... used your card but-but they’re supposed to be a surprised! I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first, daddy...” Will didn’t look into his daddy’s eyes. He knew he has to ask to use the card even though Hannibal always says yes. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t be mad but he knew he would receive some sort of punishment or ‘correction’ as Hannibal called them.

“Oh what a naughty boy. Hmm I wonder what we should do about that... cage for a month? Fifty spankings? Maybe I should just put you on the sybian and leave you for an hour or two. What do you think, baby?” Will stared wide eyed and took a step back. He glanced toward his coat and boots by the door.

“No daddy no no please no that’s that’s too much I’m so sorry I’ll never do it again daddy I’m so sor-“ Will was almost crying and he brought his hands to cover himself but Hannibal stood up and held him close and kissed his forehead.

“Will, sweetheart, I was just joking! I would never be so cruel to you. How about you give me a good show when we get home and you just go be pretty over there until I’m done? Can you do that for me?” Hannibal pointed over to his chairs and Will gave him a small nod. He could sit and be- be pretty. For daddy, he could.

“Yes daddy. I’ll-I’ll go over there...”

Will turned the chair to face Hannibal’s desk. He draped himself in it sideways. He wiggled and shifted a bit until he was comfortable then looked back at his daddy.

“Is- is this good? Should I take off my glasses? Do you want me to-“ Will was cut off by Hannibal’s voice.

“Perfect. Now be quiet. And still. I don’t like when you fidget. Do you need anything? It’s gonna be awhile.” Hannibal looked at Will closely, looking absolutely cold. He was really pleased as a peach with the situation but he needed to be cold toward Will right now.

Will thought for a moment then answered. “I’m fine daddy, but um when we get ho-home... can I please um have some-something to eat?” Will looked up at Hannibal through thick eyelashes. Hannibal kept a blank expression.

Hannibal never refuses Will food. Never.

“Yes dear when we get home I’ll feed you. Now I need to work.” Hannibal then went back to work for the next hour and a half. He only glazed up to look at his boy a few times, just to make sure he was still and wasn’t in distress. Corrections were always so stressful and anxiety causing for him.

Will sat still and just watched. He likes watching Hannibal. He liked watching him work, Hannibal looked pretty when he worked. Just to look at him and know that’s his. His daddy.

Hannibal eventually finished what he was doing and looked up. Will was still just staring at him.

“Up.” Is all Hannibal said as he started toward the door with his case and coat. Will jumped up and ran behind him but froze at the open door. Hannibal continued walking until he heard a whisper yell.

“Daddy! Wait for me! I gotta-gotta- daddy!” He heard Will trying to get his jeans and coat on but kept walking. He liked hearing Will panic a little bit. A teasing way of course. He heard Will come up behind him soon enough.

“Daddy I didn’t tie my shoes! Daddy I’m gonna fall!” Will barely finished before he tripped. Hannibal caught him and stood him back up. Will bent down to tie his boots but Hannibal stopped him.

“Let me. A sweet little thing like you could never do it yourself! You silly boy! I’ll do it for you my sweet boy.” Hannibal laughed as he tied Will’s boots. Will was pliant to Hannibal’s hands and was still and quiet until he was done.

“Thank you daddy...” Will said as he walked next to Hannibal and grasped his hand. The ride home was quiet and calm. When they got home Will stripped again and Hannibal undressed to his button up and slacks.

“Will, go get a towel from the bathroom please. Whichever one you want.” Hannibal started cracking eggs. Will got simple food when he wanted special time. Will loved Hannibal’s cooking but it always took forever and took his mind out of the soft floater headspace. Scrambled eggs were his favorite when they played, mostly because Hannibal usual fed him and well. They’re warm scrambled eggs. Yum.

Will didn’t question Hannibal wanting a towel. So he happily walked to the bathroom and got a big navy blue towel that he liked and brought it back to the kitchen.

“Here you go daddy! It’s a pretty blue one!” Will said happily. He likes doing what daddy said. It always made his heart happy and made him feel… satisfied.

Hannibal smiled at him but didn’t take the towel from Will's hand.

“Good boy Will! Now go set it on the floor right over there. Yep right there. Right where daddy can see. Now just sit or lay and be pretty while daddy makes you something to eat. I’m making scrambled eggs! You’re favorite because pretty boys get good food.” Hannibal said as Will got ready to lay on his towel. Will slid down on his back and spread his legs wide. Hannibal liked to be able to see Will’s tummy ever since it started to gather some weight. Seeing Will get healthy and pudgy made Hannibal feel amazing. It fulfilled something in him to see Will become healthy and gaining weight. Will sighed happily and relaxed. Daddy was here so he didn’t have to think anymore.

“Will you can nap until dinner is done. You look amazing dearest.” Hannibal said gently.

Will looked lazily over and nodded. He closed his eyes and he was out. Sleeping was always a problem no matter what Hannibal or himself tried sleeping was always a struggle. Except when he was feeling a bit soft around the edges, when he didn’t have to worry, when he didn’t have to even be a person let alone a functioning part of society.

Soon enough Will felt a warm hand rub his stomach. He hummed, it felt really nice and he slowly opened his eyes. Hannibal was down on one of his knees to his right with his hand on Will’s belly. Will looked him in the eyes, pretty eyes.

“Dinners done, puppy. Get up I’ll feed you on the couch. After you're done we can cuddle. Sound good, my prince?” Hannibal said as he sat back. Will blinked slowly before letting out a big yawn and stretching his arms above his head and arching his back. Hannibal hummed appreciatively.

“Okay daddy. ‘M so hungry. Thank you for making me um... uh.... I forgot what you said...'' Will had a shy small. Sometimes he got forgetful in his sweet headspace.

Hannibal smiled and laughed a bit and picked Will up and placed him on his hip.

“Scrambled eggs. And some sliced apple with cinnamon and a glass of apple juice.” Will snuggles close to Hannibal as he grabbed the plate of food. And glass of juice. Will really did love apple juice.

They soon sat down on the couch. Will sitting sideways in Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal ran his hand up Will’s thighs, feeling the stockings. Up to Will’s hip and to pull and snap the elastic of his garter belt. Will’s breaths hitched for a moment but then he giggled.

“Daddy you're so silly.” Will wiggled a little and Hannibal laughed lightly and stilled his baby. Hannibal got some egg on a fork and brought it up to the younger’s lips. “I can’t help it baby, you are just too pretty for me not to want to play with you.”

[littlelalu]

Bookstore | Ben Plunkett (Milo Manheim)

The wind picked up as I walked down the street to a small bookstore. It looked like a storm was coming—dark clouds, wind, and slight thunder. I hope I don’t catch the rain until I get there. I just desperately needed some time away from my family. My parents and I moved here about 2 weeks ago, and they have been with me almost every second I am home. I haven’t made friends, so the only option I have is to go alone to places, or with my parents. 

After following Siri's directions on my phone, I found the bookstore. The bell above the door chimed softly as I entered. As I started to explore the place, all I could think was, “Wow. This place looks like a maze!”. Shelves towered high, crammed with books waiting to be discovered. I may have found my favorite place to go on a Friday night. 

Lost in my thoughts, I rounded a corner and collided with someone. I looked up and saw a tall guy whose brown eyes looked worried.

“Oh my gosh. I-I'm so sorry.” He stuttered, still looking guilty.

“It’s fine. It was my fault too. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” I said with a shy smile. He smiled back. He’s cute.

Before he could say anything else, a girl showed up beside him. Maybe his girlfriend? Not sure.

“Did he bump into you? I am sorry about him. He’s too clumsy.” She laughed

I giggled. The guy playfully rolled his eyes at her.

“I’m Maddie. This is my best friend, Ben!” She said, pointing at him.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” I said shyly.

Maddie’s phone began to ring. “Oh, I’m sorry, I gotta take this. It's Graham.” She said, She quickly went outside to take a call.

“So... Y/N… Are you new here?” He asked awkwardly.

“Yeah. I just moved here a couple of weeks ago.” I replied with a smile.

“Well…. Welcome to Seattle. It’s not the best, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, making me laugh.

“Ha-ha, I’ll try. Do you come here often? I asked him.

“Yes. Maddie and I come here every Friday. Then we catch a movie and eat some waffles after.”

“Sounds like fun!” I said. Maddie came back inside.

“Graham needs me. I must go. I’m so sorry." She said to Ben.

"Maddie, you’re going to blow off our plans?” Ben asked

“Just today, I promise.” She looked at me and then back at Ben. “Maybe Y/N can keep you company today.” She said, winking at Ben and me.

I saw Ben’s cheeks turn a slight shade of pink.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Maddie said as she left the bookstore.

Ben looked at me with a nervous smile. “Okay… Umm... Y/N. I do have a question for you that I wanted to ask. Do you want to hang out with me tonight? If you want to, of course. As new friends, nothing else. Only if you’re okay with it.“ He said nervously.

“I would love to, Ben. What would you like to do?” He smiled when I agreed.

“Great. Do you want to go to the movies, or are you hungry now?”

“I am hungry. I haven’t had dinner yet, and it's almost 8.” I said.

“Oooo you should try the place Maddie and I go to for waffles. It’s delicious.”

“I’m down. Lead the way.”

We headed out of the store. He took me to the blue car that he parked in front of the bookstore. He went to the passenger’s side first to open the door for me. “Get in, malady.” He gestured to the seat.

I laughed at his gesture. “Thank you, kind sir.” He smiled.

He jogged over to his side and got in. He plugged in his phone. “Do you want to listen to anything in particular?”

“Nah. You pick.”

I saw him go on Spotify and click one of his playlists. The first song that played was “My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark” by Fall Out Boy.

I gasped. “Oh my gosh. Do you like Fall Out Boy?”

“Um Duh! Who doesn’t? I saw them last year when they played at the local arena. They are one of my favorite bands.”

“Be careful making wishes in the dark-dark. Can't be sure when they've hit their mark,” I began singing.

“And besides, in the mean-meantime I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart,” Ben continued.

We laughed and continued talking about our love for the band for the rest of the 15-minute car ride.

Ben pulled up to a corner restaurant called ‘Deacon’s Corner’. It had a classy dinner vibe to it.

He parked his car and turned it off. “I got your door.” He got out and came to my side to open the door. He stuck out his hand to help me out.

I grabbed his soft hand. “Thanks, Ben. You’re such a gentleman.”

“I try to be." He winked at me and smiled.

He guided me to the entrance and picked a table out for us. I sat across from him.

“So, besides waffles, what else do you recommend?” I asked.

He thought about it for a second. “Their cheeseburgers, for sure. Want me to order you that? I have to place our order with the cashier,” he said, pointing to the lady at the bar.

“Yes! Can I also get some fries and a Dr. Pepper? Please and thank you.”

He nodded. Ben got up and went up to order.

I have never gone out with a guy alone. It’s not a date, but still. I don’t know how to act or what to talk about. I just met him!

My thoughts were interrupted when Ben came back to our table.

“She said it will be about 20 minutes.” He said.

“That’s fine,” I said.

Ben and I proceeded to tell each other more about ourselves. The more I looked at him as he talked, I realized his stutter wasn’t there as much, nor was he shy anymore. He seemed more chill and happier. When the food came, we switched the topic of talking about our lives to our favorite things like music, shows, books, etc. He is very nerdy, which I love because we have a lot in common.

“Wow, Y/N. You are honestly amazing. I am glad I met you tonight. You made it even better.” He said, acting shy again.

I felt myself blushing slightly. “Same goes for you.” I looked at my phone, and it was 10:30 p.m. “Oh my. It’s getting late. I should head home soon.”

“Let me go pay first.” He said.

“How much was my half?” I asked

“Don’t worry about it. I got you.”

“Ben, no! Let me help you, please."

“Nah. You already made my Friday night better anyway," he said and got up to go pay.

He came back, and we headed out back to the car.

I gave him my address so that he could take me home. We jammed out again for the next 10 minutes until we got to my house.

“Thank you for tonight, Ben. This was probably the first day that I had fun since I got here.” I laughed slightly.

“No problem, Y/N. Thanks for keeping me company last minute.” He joked.

“Hahaha. You’re welcome. Bye, Ben,” I said as I got out the door.

I was beginning to make my way to my front door when I heard a car door shut. I turned around, and it was Ben.

“Y/N wait!” He said and walked over to me.

I looked up at his brown eyes. “Yes?”

He sighed. “Umm... I-I have never felt so comfortable with someone this fast. I can easily talk to you. I enjoyed being with you.” He looked nervous and was blushing again. “So... I l-like you and wanted to know if, umm maybe you wanted to go out again sometime? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want to ruin what we have. As friends, of course! I am sorry I didn’t mean – “

“Ben, it's fine. I like you too. I would love to go out with you again,” I said as I cut him off from his rambling.

“Really?” He asked.

I smiled and nodded. He took his phone out for me to put my number in. I handed the phone back to him.

“Good night, Y/N,” he said.

“Good night, Ben,” I said. He pulled me into a hug. He smelled great. His cologne made me instantly melt.

As we pulled away, I looked up at him again, and he looked down at me. Our gazes made me get butterflies in my stomach. It felt like the world stopped around us and it was just us two. He put one hand on my cheek, leaned down, and kissed me. I kissed back almost instantly. His soft and warm lips are on mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands moved down to my waist. He pulled away after a minute (or two), leaving my lips wanting more.

Our arms are still around each other. Just looking at each other with a goofy smile. “I have been wanting to do that but wasn’t sure if it would ruin things between us.” He said.

“It was the perfect moment,” I said with a wink.

He smiled big. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N. Bye,” he said and kissed my cheek.

“See you soon, Ben,” I said and walked into my house.

I quickly walked over to my living room window to see him leave. Ben walked back to his car, happily pumping his fists in the air. I giggle seeing him do so.

________________________________________

Note: Hello again :) I rewatched Prom Pact again and loved seeing a geeky and awkward Milo Manheim character. Have a good night everyone :)

[honeygrahambitch]

WHATS A HANNIGRAM CODED TAYLOR SWIFT SONG

The perfect ask doesn't exi-

I have prepared for this my whole life. Here is a list of hannigram coded taylor swift songs.

Look what you made me do

it's sexy and petty and it's the perfect Will Graham in salmon shirt revenge song but it's also very Hannibal in Mizumono coded.

2. I did something bad

perfect for both of them and especially for Will discovering that killing people makes him feel stuff that he shouldn't

3. Back to december (I am feral about this one)

perfect for them. chef's kiss. You can listen to it and think about Mizumono or about Digestivo, depends what kind of pain you want.

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright

this is so Will Graham thinking about Mizumono and also Hannibal surrendering to the FBI cause he doesn't need freedom if he cannot have Will.

But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't So if the chain is on your door, I understand

This lyrics too because it's the tea cup motif, turning back the time, which is exactly what Hannibal wanted to do in digestivo. And also related to Will's regrets about Mizumono.

4. Mastermind

Perfect for them both, from beginning to end. Nothing to add than some very fitting lyrics.

I knew I wanted your body I laid the groundwork, and then Just like clockwork The dominoes cascaded in a line What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine It was all my design

5. Better than revenge (more as crack if you want to think of it from Hannibal's pov towards Molly lol)

6. Right where you left me

season 3b coded, breaks you to pieces if you imagine them and the glass wall in between.

7. Wonderland

I reached for you, but you were gone I knew I had to go back home You searched the world for somethin' else To make you feel like what we had And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad

them in season 3a, Hannibal trying to replace Will with Anthony but it was in vain.

8. Come back, be here

Will grieving after Hannibal left

9. Hoax

there is so much to say about this one, I find it very fitting

My only one My smoking gun My eclipsed sun This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My win-less fight This has frozen my ground

(...)

My best laid plan Your sleight of hand My barren land I am ash from your fire

(...)

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars From when they pulled me apart You knew the password, so I let you in the door You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars From when they pulled me apart But what you did was just as dark

you can think about all the pain they have inflicted into each other and each time they have betrayed each other

10. I almost do

11. Sad Beautiful Tragic

so so so hannigram coded

We both wake In lonely beds In different cities And time Is taking its sweet time erasing you And you've got your demons And darlin' they all look like me

12. Ivy (which is considered to be a very queer song)

I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed

13. Willow (a lil more cheesy)

14. The lakes

hannigram coded because they don't fit in the normal world. And the lyrics sound like something Hannibal would say

15. Vigilante shit

as petty and sexy as Look what you made me do

16. Bad blood

doesn't need any explanation

17. No body, no crime

for the whole arc of Will trying to convince everyone Hannibal framed him

18. Getaway Car

Mizumono coded

19. The Great War

twotl coded

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

(...)

It turned into something bigger Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed Your finger on my hair pin triggers Soldier down on that icy ground Looked up at me with honor and truth Broken and blue, so I called off the troops That was the night I nearly lost you I really thought I lost you

and this part very Mizumono coded

20. Peace

they are both problematic for each other

21. The Alcott

describes the Uffizi Gallery scene. Like, in perfect detail.

22. My tears ricochet

23. Illicit Affairs

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

24. Last kiss

for when Hannibal is locked up

25. Haunted

26. Cowboy like me

especially because Will is from the south lol

I've got some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one

Hope this helps!

[thegreenisles]

Hey! I finished up another little resource I've been slowly putting together.

I've put together a turnaround reference of every character in the game, with every alternate appearance, both full bodies and profile views.

The full body views include a hatless young Graham for scale. There is a bit of an issue regarding characters with armor- I'm not very savvy with blender admittedly, and all of the metal comes out really dark. It isn't too bad, save for Manny, who doesn't even have his green feather. I'd like to fix those once I can. Also, capes are omitted. I think that only applies to Graham and Whisper though.

I'll be finishing up doing the same for the animals at some point, and I'm planning on making a few references for certain character's weapons, or other interesting items.

Also- along with the profile views, I included some of Graham's head at every angle by 10 degrees, from head on, lower, and upper angles. Thought it would be helpful to see how his hat works from any direction. The images are huge, here's a gif of them all together.

Hope these will come of use! I've been working on it for a while.