#so i want to be actually cheerier

[valfeathers]

i have this banger of a sketch of A, B & L waiting for me at home,, and i wanna work on it so bad arrrgrhdhdshgsgg the second im getting home im cleaning it up

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 1)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

A/N: Okay, so the little blue haired menace has been rotting my brain for the past week, sue me. I tried to get him out of my brain by rewatching Gravity Falls, only for the episode “The Hand that Rocks the Mabel” to inspire a whole fanfic. Straight up water on a grease fire. Anyway, enjoy.

Next

I always forget how much of a hassle moving is until it’s time to actually do it. Weeks spent selling and giving away half of my belongings, trying to shove the rest of them into boxes, then taking all of them into a new location only to have to figure out where all of them should go in the new space; it’s on the list of most mundane yet stressful life events a person has to put themselves through.

These were the feelings that hung around my being like a dark cloud for the past few weeks, but now, as I finally set my final knickknack in its chosen spot, I can feel the sun breaking through. I stand up and stretch as hard as I can, trying to wring the residual tension out of my spine. Even with my reduced number of belongings, it’s a lot of work to unpack them all, especially when working alone.

I didn’t have to do all the work myself. Within minutes of hauling stacks of boxes into my new house, I’d been approached by numerous rather colorful people, all very keen to lend a hand. As the newest neighbor in town, I was a curiosity to them, after all. I’d declined the offers, not wanting to place any burdens on the shoulders of my new potential friends. Looking back on it, that wasn’t my smartest move. Or maybe that’s just my aching muscles talking.

I’m dragged out of my tired contentment by the sound of a knock on the front door. Relaxing with a heaving sigh, I stroll over and peer out the peephole. Standing on my porch is a large, multicolored bird. My eyes dart to the plate of cookies balanced in her wings. With newfound excitement, I yank open the door and greet her with a smile.

The bird almost appears startled at this, the cookies on the plate jostling as she jumped. “Oh dear!” She shuffles the plate to her left hand, her right settling upon her chest as if to calm her heart. “You startled me for a moment!”

I give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Settling down, she waves her free wing dismissively. “Nothing to apologize for, I’m a bit prone to fright, is all.” As if remembering their existence, she extends the plate of cookies towards me. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I do hope you like them!”

“I’m sure I will!” I pull the plate from her grasp and hold it carefully to my chest, my mouth watering at the sugary smell. “They look and smell delicious, thank you so much…” I trail off, realizing in embarrassment that I never caught her name.

She seems to sense my hesitation, and beams in reassurance. “My name’s Poppy, Poppy Partridge.” I give her my name, mentally thanking her for the help. “It’s very nice to meet you, we haven’t had any new neighbors in a long time.”

“Really?” My head tilts to the side. “Why not? This place is beautiful.”

“Oh, I can’t say myself,” she sighs. “Suppose there’s just not much to around here.”

I shrug, trying to appear lighthearted. “It’s a pity.” She nods in agreement, and the conversation begins to lull. Not wanting to leave on such a sour note, I ask, “Out of curiosity, what do you like to do around here?”

“Me?” she squawks, looking taken aback. She fidgets with her feathers, her wings wringing around each other. “I suppose I like to bake, especially when the weather’s nice enough for a picnic.” I can almost see the lightbulb turn on above her head, and she turns her much cheerier gaze to my own. “Say, the rest of us were planning on a picnic this afternoon! Care to join us? It’d be a good time to meet your new neighbors.”

A sense of anxiety washes over me. The idea of being among that many strangers with such late notice flutters around in my stomach like butterflies. Without thinking, I begin to shift back and forth on my feet. “I… I don’t know, it’s very sudden…”

The bird wilts a bit, looking down at my porch. “Oh dear, it is, isn’t it? You must still be so busy with unpacking.”

I look up at her, my anxiety curdling into regret at her disappointment. I reconsider the situation. What’s an hour or two with a handful of strangers? There’s only nine houses in this town, counting my own, I can handle it. Having made up my mind, I shake my head. “No, no, I already finished unpacking. I’ll be there.”

Poppy perks up. “You will?” I smile, hoping she can’t see the hesitation in it. “That’s wonderful news!” She flaps her wings in excitement before stopping with a gasp of realization. “I have more baking to do, than! I’d better get going,” she says, turning to leave with one last wave of her big red wing. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor!”

“See you soon!” I shout back, waving with the hand that wasn’t clutching the plate of cookies. As she goes further from my field of vision, I feel myself slump, the excitement of a new friend and a batch of treats wearing off to remind me of my exhaustion. My hand falls limp to my side and I stare at the plate in contemplation.

Nap? Or snack?

I pluck a cookie from the tray and take a bite, feeling myself melt at the incredible flavor. I scarf the rest of the sweet down before heading back inside, picking up another one as I go. Maybe just a few before I rest up.

—————————

I snap up on my couch, almost falling off of it in my sudden awakening. What time is it? A quick glance at the clock on my wall reveals it to be mid-afternoon, and I throw myself off my resting place so fast I nearly hit the floor. I scramble to the window and see a small crowd of people in the distance, the sounds of talk and laughter wafting in through the glass. I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t… that late. After a quick change and a once over in the mirror, I hurry out the door and towards the picnic.

As I approach, the jolly sounds become clearer, with voices all chattering their cares away. Colorful blankets are scattered across the clearing, each rife with sandwiches and sweets. I really hope they aren’t upset that I didn’t bring anything. As I scan my surroundings, I pick out Poppy as she talks with a caterpillar and head in her direction, relieved at the semi-familiar face.

As if on cue, my way is blocked by a short girl in a pink dress dragging along a disgruntled looking man with a bowtie. “Ooh, you must be the new neighbor!” she squeals, bouncing up and down in place, hands flapping in front of her chest. “We were so worried you weren’t gonna come! I’m Julie Joyful, and this,” she says as she grabs the arm of the man next to her, “is Frank Frankly! Say hi, Franky!”

“Uh… hello.” I pondered briefly if I looked as awkward as poor Frank did as he gave me a small wave. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” I respond. As Julie begins to babble about her excitement, my eyes move to drift over the rest of the strangers. The vast majority are split off into their own small groups, with a single exception. Sitting on a bench under a large apple tree is a man who seems to be studying me the same way I’m studying him. One of his legs is crossed over the other, supporting his elbow as he rests his chin on his hand, staring at me with an intensity that sends a small shiver down my spine. And either I’m going crazy, or his lazy smile broadens ever so slightly at that.

I’m startled out of my impromptu staring contest by Julie, who seems to have noticed that I wasn’t listening and cranes her neck to see what I’m looking at. “Oh, have you met Wally yet?”

I shake my head. “No, not yet.” It takes all the willpower in my body not to meet those eyes that I can almost feel lingering on me.

The girl grins, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you gotta meet him! I bet you two will get along like two peas in a pod!”

She begins to force me from my spot, and I feel myself start to panic. Before she can pull me away to the creepy man, Frank reaches out and stops her in her tracks. “Say, Julie, they don’t look too keen on it. Maybe they should take it slow, meet the others on their own time?” He gestures broadly to the snacks left sitting around. “They haven’t even gotten anything to eat yet, after all.”

Julie looks surprised at the intervention, a flash of guilt going over her face. “Oh my, you’re right, Frank! I’m so sorry, neighbor, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” At my dismissive hand wave, she changes course, instead pulling me to the piles of food. “Poppy told me she gave you some cookies, but just you wait ‘til you try her pie!” I turn to look at Frank, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at the grumpy looking man. He smiles a bit with a reassuring nod, and the three of us settle down on a blanket. For the rest of the picnic I eat while the two of them (mainly just Julie with the occasional comment from Frank) talk about all kinds of things.

I try hard to pretend I can’t feel the eyes burning into the back of my head.

—————————

The sound of a steady, rhythmic knock wakes me up the next morning. I rub the sleep from my eyes, noting with absent mind how high the sun had already risen. The three slow knocks reverberate through my house once again, and I roll out of bed and head towards the front door, not bothering to change out of my pajamas or even look through the peephole. This, as it turns out, is a bad move on my part.

I yawn as I open the door, only for it to become a strangled cough as I lock eyes with the one resident I didn’t want to see this early. The man, or Wally as Julie had called him, stood on my porch, his face as eerily relaxed as ever. His posture was straight, his clothes neat, his appearance put together; I don’t think he could be any more of a contrast to my current state if he actively worked towards it. Which, to be frank, I suspect he did.

Just like the last time I’d encountered him, the two of us looked as if we were having a staring contest. Unlike last time, however, this time he decides to break the silence. “Hi, neighbor.” His voice is soft and monotonous, each syllable dragging along in no hurry. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.���

Somehow, I doubt that. In an attempt to relieve the strange tension, I let out a stilted laugh. “Yeah, you did, but it’s fine. I overslept, anyway.” He hums in acknowledgement, and it takes a few long seconds for me to realize he doesn’t plan on responding. Eager to hurry along this interaction so I can dart back into my house and hide from those piercing eyes, I prompt, “Something I can help you with, Wally?”

He tilts his head. “I never told you my name.”

“Yeah, no, you uh, you didn’t. Julie told me yesterday. At the… the picnic.”

“Oh, right. You three looked like you had a good time.”

“We did! We did…”

“Hmm.” His smile stretches, looking pleased by that confirmation. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re settling in okay. I’ve heard it can be awful hard to make new friends, but you have a way of drawing people in, huh?” Cutting me off before I can ask for elaboration, Wally continues. “Speaking of drawing, I was hoping you might join me for some painting today, down by the south woods.”

“Oh!” I blurt out, taking a moment to process the invitation. “I’m not exactly much of an artist, myself.”

He laughs, and it’s every bit as emphatic as the rest of his speech. “Oh, neighbor, that doesn’t matter. We all start somewhere, and besides, I’d like the company.”

I consider turning him down flat, but something tells me he’s a bit too persuasive for me to keep him at bay forever. With a grin so forced it hurts, I say, “Sounds like fun! I’ll be there.”

Wally’s head bobs in a slow nod, and he takes a step back from the door. “I’m glad to hear it. See you soon, neighbor.”

I return the nod and raise a hand in a brief wave. “See you soon.” His stare remains, and just as I ready myself to ask him to stop, he finally, finally, turns away and walks away, humming a quiet tune to himself.

I step inside and close the door, leaning my forehead against it as I recover from the encounter. My stomach growls, but I feel as though I’ve lost my appetite. The inexplicable dread in my heart squashes any hope of breakfast. I close my eyes, but even then I can still see his own staring back, unblinking in their ceaseless observation. With a shudder, I push myself up, trying my best to steel my nerves. It’s just a little art lesson, I chastise myself. So he’s a little spooky, it’s probably fine.

No matter how many times I repeated those three words to myself, the memory of those eyes seems to peer right through the lie.

[austinshotbutlers]

The Wedding Date - Part Six

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Your sister's wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to you family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is... you don't have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.6K

TW: Swearing, smut (unprotected sex, oral F! receiving) and bad writing?

A/N: A lot happens on this chpater but I hope its nice and smooth to read 😬 but we’re finally at the last chapter!!! I hope you’ve enjoyed it all. Like I said before, i plan to write a prologue and epiloge and still have two social media AUs to post! Thank you for all the love and support!

You were stood with your ear pressed against the door in the hopes of hearing the conversation between Tom and Sarah. You were able to make out little snippets here and there when suddenly your mom came bounding over. “What’s going on?” She asked. “Sarah is meant to be walking down the aisle in five minutes.”

“Mom… shhhh.” You said turning to her. “Sarah is just… having a minute to calm her nerves.” You lied.

“Ok, well please tell her to hurry up, the guests are getting antsy! I’ll just go and get your father.” And she walked off down the hall. As soon as she was out of sight, you pressed your ear back against the door.

“Tom, I just can’t tell you how sorry I am I never told you.” Sarah choked out.

“Look baby, I don’t care! It happened before we were together. I just needed a minute to process that you slept with Luke. I mean, I know he’s my friend and everything but Luke? Really?” Tom said with a slight jokiness.

“Do you still want to go ahead with this?” Sarah asked meekly.

“Hell yes, I do! But from this day forth, we tell each other everything ok?” Tom said. “If this marriage thing is gonna work honey, we need to be truthful.”

“Of course!” Sarah said, her tone a little cheerier.

“I actually think you should thank your sister.” Tom began and you could hear the eye roll in Sarah’s scoff. “I’m glad she got you to tell me actually. I’d much prefer to have heard it from you than Luke, we know his reputation for blurting things out.”

“I guess you’re right. I mean, I just told her she was a shitty sister when I’m the shitty one.” Sarah sighed and you triumphantly smiled to yourself. Sarah never admitted she was wrong so to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, it was music to your ears. “I mean, what the hell was I thinking about sleeping with Luke in the first place? I think I was just desperate for your attention.”

“And it worked,” Tom replied. “Come on, let’s do this thing.”

You heard Tom’s footsteps towards the door and frantically scrambled away from your position where your ear has been pressed up against the wood. Tom opened the door and looked at you with a bright smile on his face, followed by a big thumbs up. He then made his way down the hallway, presumably to wait for your sister at the altar.

You cautiously walked towards your sister and knocked lightly at the door. Sarah hastily turned around and looked at you. She didn’t say a word, but you knew by the way she tilted her head, she was inviting you into the room. You slowly walked in and stopped a few steps in front of Sarah.

“So…” you started. “Is everything…” You didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“Y/N.” Sarah cut you off. “I’m sorry. Utterly and completely sorry. Sorry for what I did, sorry for not telling you, just sorry for being a shitty sister.” “Thank you.” You replied. “I guess maybe I should apologise as well but I was hurt. I just couldn’t believe you kept it a secret from me for so long.”

“And I completely understand that Y/N! You don’t have to apologise.” Sarah said and you were shocked to hear the words leave her lips. Never did you think you’d be hearing Sarah take accountability for her actions while also justifying your own.

“How did Tom take the news?” you asked despite knowing.

“He was hurt I didn’t tell him sooner, of course he has every right to be upset about it.” Sarah started. “But he still wants to get married!” and you could hear the relief in her voice and a bright smile filled her face.

“You will still be my maid of honour, won’t you?” Sarah asked, worry wavering in her voice.

“Of course, I will Sarah.” You smiled. “You’re still my sister… despite the shitty things you may have done.”

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank you so much sissy.”

***

You found Aaron hovering outside the entrance to the hall the ceremony was about to take place. He was watching people fidgeting in their seats as they awaited the bride’s entrance.

“Hey!” you smiled as you reached him. Aaron turned around to face you and a smile grew on his face. Aaron was relieved to see you in a happier mood than a mere 30 minutes ago.

“Everything ok?” He asked.

“Everything is good. I actually received several apologies from Sarah. Something I never thought I’d hear to be honest.” You began. “Oh! And I guess it’s good news that the wedding is still going ahead.”

“That’s great then.” Aaron smiled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you sorted everything but remember, you have every right to be upset with the situation.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you leaned up to peck another quick kiss on his lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him.

“I just want you to know, your feelings are valid and justified,” Aaron added.

“I know Aaron and I love you for being just so perfect.” You smiled brightly and a pink tint tinged the tips of Aaron’s ears. He wrapped his arms around your waist while yours slid up his arms to perch around his neck.

“I love you, Agent Hotchner.” You smiled.

“I love you too Agent Y/L/N.” Aaron replied placing his lips on yours once again in a searing kiss.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Your mom hissed through her teeth causing you and Aaron to hastily pull apart from each other.

“Aaron, go find your seat! Y/N, where is your bouquet?” Your mom frantically barked her orders. “Sarah is about to walk down the aisle. Quick get into positions!”

“I’ll see you soon.” You whispered to Aaron before he escorted your mom down the aisle to their seats.

Then, the excited bridesmaids began to clamber into the hallway, arranging themselves in the correct order and checking all their dresses were straight and their bouquets looked perfect. Next came Sarah, looking so flawless despite the chaotic last hour, with her arm firmly folded into your dad’s.

“Are we all ready?” Sarah asked excitedly and a wave of murmurs and excited whispers followed from the crowd of bridesmaids.

“Are you ready?” you asked Sarah and she nodded eagerly.

“I’m so ready!” Sarah replied.

You smiled at her and took your position, ready to walk down the aisle. The music started to play and off you went.

***

“More champagne?” Aaron asked, offering the bottle.

“Yes please.” You smiled, passing your glass to Aaron. He took it and filled it up perfectly with the bubbly beverage before handing the glass back to you.

“You looked so beautiful during the ceremony,” Aaron said to you as you took a sip from your champagne flute.

“Flattery will get you everywhere Mr Hotchner.” You laughed, placing a hand on his thigh.

Aaron placed his hand on top of yours and smiled at you before the two of you looked around the room at everyone as they finished their meals. Sarah and Tom were giggling away at their table at the front while Livvy was flirting with one of the groomsmen she had been put with for the ceremony.

“Everyone has finished their meals.” You groaned, burying your head into Aaron’s neck.

“Yes?...” He responded slightly confused.

“So it means it’ll be speeches soon and I cannot stand public speaking.” You sighed.

Aaron laughed which caused you to sit up and shoot him a glare.

“Why are you laughing?” You asked slightly annoyed. “This is my worst nightmare.”

“I’m not laughing at you.” Aaron replied. “It’s just funny that you can deliver a profile to police officers you’ve never met before but can’t make a speech in front of people you know.”

“Well, there’s a slight difference.” You said. “There are a lot more people here than at any police station.”

Aaron just chuckled as he placed a soft kiss on your temple. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured against your skin.

Suddenly, the sound of a knife being tapped against a glass caught everyone’s attention and every guest turned to face the bride and groom. Tom was stood up and pulled a paper from his suit pocket, unfolding it carefully before holding it out, ready to read his speech. One by one, everyone made their speeches, Tom, Sarah, your dad, Tom’s mom and Luke (whose speech was fortunately short, snappy and a little bit awkward) before it was your turn. Aaron squeezed your hand reassuringly as you stood up, everyone’s eyes shifting to you.

You cleared your throat before speaking. “Hi everyone. I hope you’ve all been enjoying yourselves so far. Don’t worry! I am the last speechmaker for the night so as soon as I’m done, you’re free to head to the bar.” You joked and a few laughs echoed around the room. You ran your hands down the front of your dress, your palms sweaty from nerves. “Sarah. I remember when we were younger, you would cut pictures out of mom’s magazines to design your own wedding in your scrapbook. They were always so big and extravagant with bright pink dresses and crazy venues like Disneyland. But I also remember the hours I spent tidying up all your paper scraps and rubbish,” You laughed and others joined in including Sarah. “You always knew exactly what you wanted and I guess I was jealous of you in that way. You had your life perfectly planned out while I was stuck deciding if I wanted to profile criminals or not, much to Mom’s dismay.” And this time your dad’s laugh caught your ears. “And I’ll be honest, I had been dreading your wedding, I really had! But now that I’m here, while we may have had our rocky patches over the last few days, you’ll always be my sister and I want you to be happy, I know you and Tom will have a very happy life together. To Tom and Sarah!” you said, raising your glass and everyone followed.

You immediately sat back down and released a breath.

“That was perfect,” Aaron muttered as you sat. “I think I saw Sarah wipe away some tears.”

“Phew, at least I didn’t fuck that up.” You replied and watched as the guests began to file through the doors to the dancefloor and bar. “Come on, let's go get a drink.”

***

The dance floor was heaving with everyone dancing as the DJ played a mixture of upbeat songs. You and Aaron stood and watched the chaos as you both sipped on a glass of scotch. He had his arm wrapped around your waist while your head rested against his shoulder. The several glasses of alcohol had now begun to go to your head.

“Thank you,” You said. “For agreeing to come with me. Never did I think that the things that happened over the last few days would have happened when you said you’d be my fake boyfriend.”

“I think, agreeing to be your fake boyfriend was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.” Aaron smiled. “Finally having the confidence to tell you how I really feel about you was something I never thought would happen.”

“We also had sex.” You said excitedly and Aaron chuckled to himself, amused by your tipsy revelations.

You were just about to speak again when one of your favourite songs began to play, echoing loudly around the room.

“Oh my god! I love this song.” You smiled brightly and Aaron melted at the sight of how happy you were. “Come on! Let's dance.”

You both put your glasses down on the bar before you dragged Aaron onto the busy dancefloor. You wrapped your arms around his neck while Aaron’s hands found your hips by instinct as you began to sway in time with the music together. You buried your head into Aaron's neck and your knees nearly buckled at the comforting smell of his cologne. Everything felt so perfect.

“How long do you think we have to stay here?” Aaron asked.

“Why? Have somewhere you want to be?” You questioned with a laugh.

“Yes I do,” he smirked. “And it involves you, a bed and no clothes.”

“I like the sound of that,” you smiled, leaning up and placing a kiss on his lips. “How about we stay for another hour and then I’m all yours?”

“Sounds perfect,” Aaron smiled. “I’ll just get us another drink.”

You nodded with a smile and watched as Aaron made his way through the sea of people on the dance floor and towards the bar.

A sweaty hand on your arm drew you from your thoughts and you turned to see Liv with a huge grin plastering her face.

“How has your night been?” She asked.

“Good!” You shouted so Liv could hear you over the music.

“I’m surprised Aaron hasn’t taken you home yet and ripped that dress off you.” She laughed and you rolled your eyes jokingly. “I’m currently trying to persuade Josh to invite me back to his hotel.” And she pointed over to the good-looking, blonde-haired man.

“I think his name is Greg.” You corrected her with a laugh.

“Whatever!” Liv laughed. “He’s hot and it's ritual for a bridesmaid to hook up with a groomsman.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Here honey,” Aaron’s voice said from behind you and you turned to see him holding out a glass of white wine to you. You took it from him gratefully and Aaron looked over to Liv who was beside you. “Sorry Liv, I would have got you a drink as well,” Aaron said, and a warmth flared in your chest from just how sweet he is.

“Don’t worry about it Aaron,” Liv smiled and then she turned back to you. “Operation ‘hook up with Josh’ is in full swing.”

“Greg!” You corrected her again with a laugh.

“Greg… whatever!” Liv shrugged you off with a laugh as she headed back towards the blonde groomsman.

“What was that about?” Aaron laughed as he took a sip from his bottle of beer before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Just Liv’s chosen target for the night.” You laughed in response and leaned your head on Aaron’s shoulder.

The night went on as you and Aaron found yourself comfortably seated at a table, drinking wine and sharing kisses every now and then. The dancefloor was still alive with people including your mom and dad as well as Livvy (who was far too busy kissing the groomsman, Greg). Sarah and Tom had cut the cake, which had been shared amongst all the guests before she tossed the bouquet which Tom’s little sister caught (much to her boyfriend’s hatred!).

You looked over to Aaron as he watched the room and leaned into his ear so he could hear you.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said and Aaron could practically hear the smirk in your voice. “We’ve stayed a lot longer than we said we would and now I’m desperate to get you alone.”

Aaron looked into your eyes with a desire that sent butterflies through your stomach.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and taking your hand. “Let’s get a cab.”

You quickly made your way around the room, bidding your farewells to Sarah and Tom, your mom and dad and of course Liv, who gave you a knowing wink as you pulled away from your hug with her.

Once comfortably situated inside a cab on your way home, Aaron had you pulled close to him, littering your neck with soft kisses and occasionally nipping your skin.

“If you keep this up, we’re going to get kicked out of the cab,” you giggled. “And I don’t particularly want to be walking home in these heels.”

“I’ll carry you,” Aaron mumbled between placing kisses down your neck towards your collarbone.

“I… like this side of you,” you breathed out as Aaron’s hand came to rest on your thigh, squeezing it gently. “But we’re nearly home and then I’ll be completely and utterly yours.”

Aaron simply nodded and buried his head in your neck where he stayed the rest of the journey home.

Aaron’s hands were on you the second you walked through the door. He squeezed your hips as his lips met yours in a bruising kiss before trailing down your neck, nipping lightly at your skin. Within seconds, Aaron had you pushed up against the wall, his head ducked down low as he placed sloppily kisses across your cleavage.

“So…. Desperate…” you muttered breathlessly.

“You are irresistible,” Aaron mumbled, lifting his head to look at your face. His gaze was intense and filled with lust and heat settled in the bottom of your abdomen.

“Upstairs?” Aaron suggested but it came out more as a demand.

“Yes Sir,” You replied and flashed him a teasing smile when you saw his eyes darken at the use of the professional name.

The two of you frantically made your way upstairs and headed straight for your bedroom. You slammed the door behind you and kicked off your heels while Aaron began to take off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. You made your way over to him and started to unbutton the crisp white shirt, your fingers delicately brushing over his skin. As soon as he was freed of the white fabric, you leaned up to kiss Aaron and as your lips met in a searing kiss, Aaron’s hands fiddled with the zip at the back of your dress before effortlessly pulling it all the way down. He pulled away from the kiss first, tugging lightly at the silky fabric of the dress to encourage it to slip off your body. Once you had your arms free of the straps, the fabric slipped smoothly down your body and pooled at your feet. Aaron’s breath hitched as he took in your appearance before his lips were back on yours and you could feel his growing erection pushing into you.

“I… I need you,” you managed to mutter between breathless kisses. Your underwear was practically soaking now, you needed Aaron inside of you immediately.

“Get on the bed,” he whispered against your lips in a commanding tone. You did as he instructed and laid on the bed. You looked back up at Aaron’s tall, dominating stance from where he stood looking down at you from the end of the bed. You bit your lip as you looked at the bulge straining against Aaron’s trousers, spreading your legs apart ever so slightly to show Aaron that you were ready for him.

Aaron got down onto his knees and pulled you closer towards him by your ankles. He started kissing gently up your legs, scattering small pecks here and there before he reached your thighs where he then started to nip lightly at the skin. You gasped out in shock at the sudden feeling of his teeth on your skin and were now very aware of how close Aaron was to your soaked pussy.

“A…Aaron,” you breathed out. “I need you…”

“Do you trust me?” Aaron asked from his position between your legs and you nodded quickly.

His fingers hooked under the fabric of your underwear and he began pulling them down your legs until you were completely free of the wet fabric. Aaron then returned to your centre and slowly slid two fingers inside of you.

“So wet already…” Aaron mused as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you gently.

You gasped at the pleasure and grasped at the bed sheets when Aaron’s thumb made contact with your clit. Then suddenly, Aaron ducked his head down and before you could ask what he was doing, his tongue swiped through your wet folds.

“Oh!” you gasped out as Aaron stayed buried between your thighs, his tongue circling around your clit. Your hand found its way into Aaron’s hair, grasping it between your fingers and pulling on it ever so gently.

The taste of your arousal on Aaron’s tongue was enough to push him over the edge as he traced his tongue back and forth through your folds, his tongue swirling and circling again and again around your clit, your hips bucking up slightly at the pleasure.

“You’re…. you’re really good at this,” you managed to whisper through your pleasure. No previous partner had ever gone down on you before, Aaron was opening your eyes to a whole new world of pleasure.

He hummed something from between your thighs and the vibrations that followed through your body were enough to tip you over the edge. Aaron kept teasing his tongue through your folds, his hands had a strong grip on your hips to keep you in place as he pushed his tongue hard around your clit.

“Aaron… I’m going to,” you couldn’t finish your sentence as the orgasm took over your body. The moans that left your throat motivated Aaron to keep teasing and circling your pussy as he began to taste all of you.

Once you came back to your senses, you pulled Aaron up so that he was hovering over you and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a desperate, bruising kiss.

“That was… incredible.” You mumbled against his slightly swollen lips. “But now I need you inside of me.”

Aaron chuckled before looking into your eyes and muttering something along the lines of ‘so desperate’ as he pulled back from you and looked down at your naked body.

“Please Aaron…” you groaned as you sat up and impatiently reached for his belt, beginning to unbuckle it.

As soon as Aaron was rid of his trousers and boxers, he was hovering above you and placing kisses along your jaw and neck.

“Ready?” Aaron asked between kisses.

“Yes!” you replied desperately.

Aaron reached down and aligned his cock with your centre, rubbing the head through your wet folds a few times before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. You gasped at the sudden fullness and gripped Aaron’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“Ok?” Aaron asked and you nodded quickly.

Aaron then began rocking his hips against yours at a teasingly slow pace, nearly pulling out of you before he thrust his length back inside of your pussy.

“Harder.” You said in between your breathless moans and Aaron quickly obliged, his pace quickening as he began to fuck you hard.

“Been thinking about this…” Aaron grunted as he thrust into you. “All day.”

“Me too!” You replied and moaned loudly as Aaron fucked deeper into you, hitting the right stop.

Your moans, Aaron could listen to them all day – they were enough to push him tumbling over the edge, but he tried to restrain himself for as long as he could.

“Touch yourself,” Aaron instructed.

You did as he said and started circling your clit as Aaron’s thrusts began to become sloppy as he reached closer and closer to his own pleasure.

“Fuck!” Aaron hissed as he come inside of you. The sudden heat that filled you up was enough to then push you over the edge into blinding pleasure as Aaron rode out his orgasm.

“Oh! Aaron…” you moaned into his neck, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders as Aaron’s pace began to slow down.

Aaron was mindlessly twiddling his fingers through the ends of your hair as the two of you laid in each other's arms. Your body still tingled with Aaron’s touch and satisfaction flowed through your veins.

“Now all this wedding shit is over, I can finally thank you properly for agreeing to come with me.” You said as you snuggled closer into Aaron’s chest.

“You’ve been thanking me all weekend honey,” Aaron replied and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Again, if I hadn’t agreed to come with you, I’d still be silently pinning for you from my office.”

“If you hadn’t come, I don’t think I’d have been able to make it through the week without committing murder.” You laughed and sat up to look at him. “And of course, I would never have had the opportunity to tell you how I’ve been madly in love with you since the day I joined the BAU.”

“I love you so much,” Aaron smiled, sitting up slightly so he was now elevated on his arm.

“I love you too.” You smiled brightly and leaned down to capture Aaron’s lips in a quick, chaste kiss. “You have been the best fake boyfriend ever.”

Aaron let out a hearty laugh before looking back at you with nothing but complete adoration in his eyes that made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“I hope I’m not being too bold to assume that my title has been upgraded?” He asked with an anxious smile.

“Aaron Hotchner is this your attempt to ask me to be your girlfriend?” you laughed and a red tint tinged the tips of Aaron’s ears.

“Well…” Aaron couldn’t find the words.

You laughed loudly before throwing your arms around his neck and peppering his cheek and jawline with kisses.

“I’d love nothing more than to be officially known as your girlfriend.” You smiled and Aaron leaned up to place a bruising kiss on your lips. “You’re now my go-to wedding date.” You smiled brightly and Aaron chuckled.

***

One year later

A knock on his office door drew Aaron from his thoughts. He put down the file he had been looking at and turned to face the door where you were standing.

“Agent Y/L/N,” Aaron said in his ‘professional’ voice. “Come in.”

You walked into the office and shut the door behind you as you produced a pink envelope which Aaron rose an eyebrow at.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“So, big news.” You began, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Livvy’s and Greg’s wedding invitation has just been delivered!”

“Brilliant,” Aaron replied in a monotonous tone, his eyes had drifted back to the file he had previously been reading.

“Aaron! This is important!” You scold him as you sit yourself down on the chair across from his desk.

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m listening. Liv’s wedding invitation, yes?”

“Yes! It’s in 3 months' time. 25th September in LA of course.” You smiled, sliding the invitation across the desk for Aaron to read.

“Is this your way of asking for the time off?” He asked, a teasing look in his eyes.

“you’re so funny…” you rolled your eyes. “I thought you’d know by now baby, you’re always my go-to wedding date remember.”

“Of course! How could I forget.” Aaron replied sarcastically but with a small smile on his lips. “Luckily this time, we won’t have to pretend we’re dating.”

You laughed as you took the invitation back from Aaron. “That’s very true!” Aaron stood up as he walked you to the door of his office.

“So save the date Hotchner, 25th September you’re coming back to LA with me. Back to see my psychotic family.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way Y/L/N.” Aaron chuckled and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Not very appropriate workplace behaviour Sir,” You teased him.

“It’s a good thing my blinds are closed then,” Aaron smirked and ducked his head down to place another searing kiss on your lips.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hello!

I’ve been thinking about this prompt for awhile now, but I’d like to hear your takes on it! if say another event like lost in the book happened but instead of stitch, they meet Winnie the Pooh and his friends— which of the cast do you think would relate most to the characters?

I uh 😅 don’t know a lot about Winnie the Pooh or its characters, so my thoughts here are based on very, veeery basic understandings of them.

Pooh — His defining trait is his loyalty and willingness to help others, so I automatically don’t see many of the NRC boys relating to Pooh’s softness. He might be a better fit with one of the light cosmic element boys (Kalim, Silver, even Rook) or Yuu.

Piglet — He’s soft spoken and always nervous or worrying about something. I think of Epel and Idia as the "soft spoken" ones of the group, but Idia is the more generally anxious one. Epel's only really "shy and meek" when he's forced to act more polite; his true personality is much rowdier and more stubborn.

Tigger — Tigger is bright and enthusiastic. Any number of the cheerier members of the main cast could fit here with him: Cater, Kalim, etc. I would say Sebek (at least when it's a Malleus-related task or sentiment) works.

Eeyore — The most “different” of the Pooh cast; Eeyore tends to be down in the dumps and/or unenthusiastic. I see Idia and Leona best relating to Eeyore, since the former is usually pessimistic about everything while the latter has depressive symptoms that he usually masks with arrogant confidence.

Rabbit — Prideful and stubborn self-appointed leader, but ready to hop into action when he is called upon. Most of the dorm leaders could honestly slot in nicely here, particularly Riddle (whom we see in book 6 trying to be the "leader" of his group with Azul and has a generally very rigid way of thinking).

Kanga and Roo — Loving mother and curious, adventurous son duo. Various combinations can work here, although each pairing kind of represents a different kind of parent-child or general familial relationship. (Vil and Epel, Trey and Riddle, Idia and Ortho, Leona and Cheka, Jamil and Kalim, etc.) It really depends on how you want to look at it.

Owl — A know-it-all who actually dispenses the wrong information more often than not. I'd say Lilia or Jade is most Owl-like. They're the most likely to share false knowledge, but unlike Owl, it doesn't come from a place of genuinely not knowing but rather purposefully fucking up the information to mess with people.

Christopher Robin — A kind and helpful boy who shares his stories with the animals of the 100 Acre Woods. I wasn’t sure if I should include him here, but the Disney website lists him as a core member of the cast so I thought, “might as well!” Since Christopher Robin is the "odd one out" who shares stories with everyone, which i think it suits Yuu (the photographer/one who records memories) quite well.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Tomorrow - and the rest of this week - is going to be a Very Big Day for a lot of us here.

First, I want to take a moment here to remind everyone of how lucky we are to live in a country where the citizenry’s responsibility to direct how the government is formed, and the freedom to choose what direction we give, is enshrined in our constitution. So please, if you’re able to, vote. And if you’re still in line to vote when your polls close, stay in line; all the closing time means is that’s what time your queue to vote closes. If you’re in line when the queue closes, you can and will be able to vote, no matter how long it takes.

Second, there is very real federal concern that the election results, whatever they end up being, could lead to violence. If who you support in the election makes you an outlier in your community - you’re a blue dot in a red sea or you’re a red dot in a blue sea - and you have signs showing that support, take them down now. Hide your bumper stickers, don’t wear your shirts, leave your hats at home. Chances are that this just being overly cautious, but all the national security risk assessment signs are pointing to “warning: the threat is here.” Hopefully nothing will actually happen, but after an election cycle with assassination attempts, ballot boxes being blown up, and an Election Day terrorist attack being uncovered…I know I’d rather be safe than sorry.

And finally, if you need a timeline cleanse from all things election: watch videos of the New York Marathon - there’s nothing cheerier and more wholesome than watching strangers come together to cheer on and support marathon runners.

[fortressofserenity]

Thoughts on Nightwing and Miguel O'Hara

There has been some talk about DC Comics’s Nightwing being a sex symbol, but when it comes to something like the more recent Spider-Man films it does make you wonder about something. Sort of like how Nightwing’s often considered to be a sex symbol because he’s slimmer than Batman and has a cheery personality, but this gets upended with Miguel O’Hara. Actually I feel that given the common women’s preference for brooding, moody men that Miguel O’Hara could be considered to be more in line with this, than that of Nightwing though he could be seen as part of a trendy for cheerier men. Similar things can be said of their builds really, the only things they have in common are their rear ends and getting fetishised for being of a certain ethnicity.

If you wanted me to be very, very honest when it comes to the way Romani and Arab people are portrayed, there’s a tendency for western cartoonists to make them very dark-skinned. Not saying that they can’t be pale-skinned, but I don’t know why many of them make Romani and Arab people so swarthy. Sometimes it’s like that with Damian and Nightwing, both Arab and Romani respectively, in fanart where they’re made much darker than they really are. It’s even like that with Latino characters where some have a tendency to make them rather dark-skinned, not that dark-skinned Latinos don’t exist at all but that there’s a tendency to make them quite dark. It’s not that there aren’t any dark-skinned Asians at all either.

But it’s kind of strange that perhaps save for Kim Possible, I don’t think I’ve seen a brown-skinned East Asian character in western fiction though you could say that anime’s not any better either. While making Cassandra Cain swarthy could be just as problematic, but I wonder if making them brown-skinned plays into a form of fetishisation. As in they get fetishised for having darker skin, which may not always be any better. But it’s not hard to feel this way around both of them really.

[some-beans]

Hi! I wanted to request dormleaders with a reader like Millie from helluva boss?

yes 100% yes but god i'm bad at answering these fast 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

✎...pairing: twst dorm leaders x millie!reader ✎...themes: hints to murder, mentions of blood, reader is fem with she/her in mind ✎...enjoy !!

𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄

ngl a little freaked out

given your horns and tail, and the vague/slightly tad bits of what your line of work is, it's safe to say riddle was very weary of you

but, i suppose that lessens up when he sees you respecting the queen of hearts' rules

lowkey loves that fact you fit in with the red aesthetic tho

also loves when you easily whip Ace and Deuce into shape

riddle feels surprisingly comfortable with you after the overblot incident due to the fact you simply held onto him and allowed him to cry, and get it out of his system

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀

ma'am

he laps up ALL the love and affection you give him

such a smug bastard [ affectionate ]

also kind of "he asked for pickles" but it's more that he's just lazy

definitely respects the shit out of tho

girlboss over here

is so impressed when he witnessed you take down, like, 15 of his housemates like it was riding a bike

did i mention cuddles??

cuz you are now his fav pillow

yeah nah, you're not moving until he's awake

well, i mean, you can cuz not gonna stop you, but ready to then deal with a grumpy lion later on

𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋

flustered yet intrigued

you said you did some bodyguard work and know how to deal with problematic customers??

. . . do you need a job??

but in all seriousness, very much becomes your malewife

man legit folds at any and all affection you give him, big and small

very surprised when you help him get more contracts for him and he swoons lowkey

something to do with the fact you're from hell or something

he didn't really pay attention cuz azul's brain had crashed from the smile you sent him

𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌

oh our sweet sunshine baby

you honestly end up taking over jamil's job at this point

jamil cried tears of joy over this

you can easily calm kalim down and divert his attention back on track

and easily dispose of any hitmen *ahem*

he definitely buys jewellery to decorate your horns

you casually mentioned your, uh, job once, and let's say kalim is grateful that he's on your good side

𝐕𝐈𝐋

you're like a slightly more violent cheerier version of rook in a sense

but also somehow less intense too??

ugh whatever

your bright red skin does intrigue him

and your makeup is quite impressive

. . .

what do you mean you have naturally smooth skin?? had no acne too??

vil may kind of reprehend you for your country accent, but quickly shuts the fuck up from the wicked glare you give him

epel snickered to himself when say that happen

𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀

you are intense

but in a good way??

you have successfully bamboozled idia shroud

it confuses

he has heard of imps before bc duh ofc he has

he's watched too many manga and shit to not know what those are

you two very much give "he asked for pickles" and "girlboss + malewife" vibes

gets spooked when you don't bat an eye to the gore when watching horror series with him

may have prayed once or twice

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐒

at first, he mistook you for another dragon fae cuz of ya horns and got really fuckin excited

tho lowkey sad once you explained you're actually an imp from hell

still jazzed about the horns and tail tho

loves to share stories and whatnot

. . . kinda concerned when you mentioned a job that left your leg in a bear trap

yeah

malleus may have almost asked to . . . talk to your boss

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Summary

Part 1

Lonely Boy

London, England

Present Day

“Promise me that you will be normal.”

“I am always normal.”

“That is demonstratively untrue. You are never normal,”

“Well then what do you want from me? If I am not normal to begin with, how can I be normal in this instance?”

“Fake it. Pretend.”

“Why don’t you just drive? In silence.”

Cassian sighed a dramatic sight, and continued on driving, preferring not to push the issue any further. Lord knew it took him months, actual months to convince his stubborn ass of a brother to actually agree to try this. In all honesty, Cassian was feeling exhausted. Drained. Defeated. And he never felt defeated. But this whole…thing…was akin to that Greek myth, with the guy who kept pushing a huge rock up a mountain, only to reach the top, and for the rock to skid back down and for the climb to resume again. And again. And again. That’s how he felt with his wayward, unruly, scandalous brother Azriel.

Azriel was looking out the car window, a scowl on his face.

Cassian wasn’t going to engage. The last thing he needed for his brother to say ‘turn the car around, I am not going’. He wasn’t going to risk it.

“Where are we even?” Azriel muttered at last, his brow furrowing as he looked at the unfamiliar streets. “Is this bird posh?”

Cassian arched a brow at him and blew out a breath. You can take the boys out of a council estate, but you can’t take the council estate out of the boys. He and Azriel grew up in abject poverty, with their alcoholic father, his cunt of a wife, and their two abhorrent step-brothers. Decades later, sometimes it slipped–Azriel’s plain talk. 

“Who cares if she is posh?” Cassian shrugged instead of answering. “You are Azriel Night. She should be impressed,”

Azriel rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Posh birds don’t care about all that.”

Here he was: the shy, awkward boy that Cassian remembered. Azriel, with his scarred hands, his awful self-esteem, his sense of unworthiness and his head full of doubts. Despite the blustering bravado that he usually carried like a shield, when left stripped and bare, Azriel was a boy who made it big, who got lucky in life, but who thought little of himself. 

Azriel sighed and then pointed at the window.

“Look!  A pub. Let’s stop and have a pint instead.”

Tempting as it was, Cassian shook his head determinedly and said, “No. We have an appointment and we will keep it.”

He glanced at Azriel and added, “And don’t be pouting.”

“I am not pouting!”

“You are definitely pouting.”

A moment later.

“And rolling your eyes.”

“Fuck off.”

“How about,” Cassian chewed the inside of his cheek and then offered, “we’ll get a pint after.”

“After, I’ll need heroin!”

Cassian didn’t bother responding–it was all just bluster anyway. Azriel didn’t even drink because he was training. And considering how badly the training was going, there wasn’t going to be any drinking or any heroin if he wanted to continue playing, and not get benched for the rest of the season.

Azriel was looking out the window with a mixture of disdain and interest. 

They were driving down a busy street, hotels and restaurants on both sides. There was the Fitzroy, its facade indulgently opulent and so overwhelmed with Victorian decorations, it looked ridiculous. Next to it, was an absolutely disastrous looking cement building, which used to be a hotel, but now seemed abandoned. A fucking crematorium would look cheerier than this grey cement monstrosity. 

“What is this?” Azriel asked again.

“Russell Square,” Cassian explained at last, while making a turn alongside the green square.

It was quaint here. Quiet. 

Finally, Azriel recognised the hulking mass of the British Museum. It wasn’t a place where he visited willingly, though he sort of recalled a school trip here. Beyond that, it was a black hole. 

He was mostly a shit student, so it didn’t surprise him that he didn’t remember. He wished that he was better–at everything–but his childhood was so precarious, he never allowed himself to hope or wish for better days. So why bother with education or culture if that could always be snatched away from him at any point? So he didn’t. And now, he regretted it. He regretted not spending more time learning about things, about the world, but wasting entirely too much time on doubting and challenging it.

The SatNav told them that they had arrived and Cassian killed the engine.

“Come on,” he motioned at Azriel firmly, “don’t puss out on me now. Let’s go.”

Clenching his teeth so hard he risked cracking a tooth, Azriel climbed out of the Jaguar. 

The two of them stood in front of a cute - charming even - Georgian row home, with an attached carriage house. The house was mostly white, with a bit of red brick, and covered in red and purple…well, flowering plant. Azriel wasn’t an expert in plants. He knew ivy and wisteria and that’s as far as it went. So whatever this was, it was beautiful, but he has no idea what it was. Marigold Agency was all it said on an old-fashioned hanging sign that swayed gently over the one-story carriage house. Could be anything. At least it saved Azriel more embarrassment and indignity. He was entering, or ducking, to be precise, into a vaguely named business. It could be a flower shop. A cafe. An ice cream shop.

Not a matchmaking agency. Nothing like that.

The weather was blustery, the skies slate grey, not even a hint of sun or light. Sinking deeper into his leather jacket, he finally entered the foyer, followed by Cassian. A bell chimed upon their entry, announcing them.

They stood in a plush, cosy space, with a fancy marble fireplace, and entirely too many flower arrangements. The walls were covered with tastefully framed, but absolutely cheesy inspirational love quotes. As he looked around, Azriel read gems such as:

Darling, you are all I ever wanted love to be…

True love is a journey without an end

I told the stars about you…And they answered

I crave a love that drowns oceans

When we have each other, we have everything

“In the name of Saint George, what the hell is this?” Azriel muttered under his breath, glancing around.

Cassian meanwhile, made himself comfortable in a plush sofa, dwarfing it with his massive size. The fire in the fireplace was roaring and created a nice respite from London’s awful October weather. 

The next moment, a three-legged pug came trotting in, huffing and snorting. He was wearing a spiffy blue bow and stared the two visitors down with his big buggy pug eyes. Azriel squatted low and let the dog sniff him, as he stroked the short fur and the multitude of rolls.

“Piglet!” a melodious voice called out. “How did you get out? Off you go back to the office! Come on!”

The pug snorted in indignation, while Azriel followed the sound of the voice. His eyes skimmed up, finding slender ankles and feet clad in black patent leather pumps–elegant, with one of those ‘kitten heels’. Is that what they were called? And how did he know that?

The owner of the expensive shoes wore a pleated silk skirt of deep cobalt and as he looked up, Azriel noted a tiny waist and a pair of ample tits. The posh bird–and he assumed that’s who this was–had a body to kill for. Definitely a hot little body, though she was dressed like some movie star from the 50s. Totally old fashioned and proper. Those nice soft tits were hidden beneath a black silk blouse, with a huge bow on the side of her neck. Apparently she and her pug liked strutting about wearing large bows. But to add to her old-fashioned attire, she also wore PEARLS. Real, honest to god pearls–a 3-strand pearl necklace, and pearl earrings. 

“Your pug’s name is Piglet?” Azriel asked, perplexed, as he straightened to his considerable height.

“It is indeed,” the girl…woman…confirmed.

She was a stunner to be sure. Early-twenties, he assumed, and it wasn’t just her attire that seemed vintage–she was a throwback to a bygone era. A soft lovely face, reminding him of classic cartoon princesses–huge round eyes, brown and gorgeous, a small pretty nose, pink cheeks and a pair of rosy lips, all framed by waves of light golden-brown hair. 

“Piglet, come,” she ordered again, and the pug finally ambled away from Azriel, energetically hopping on his three legs.

“Mr. Singer-Night?” she asked, boldly extending her hand.

“Mr. Night is fine,” Azriel corrected, and took her hand in his. Hers was soft, with little firm calluses and a nice grip.

He found himself being intrigued by this oddity. Not exactly attracted, though she was incredibly attractive, but more like fascinated. She was so different from every single other woman he’s ever been around, he didn’t know what to make of her. Granted, he didn’t spend much time in high society, but he spent enough to know that even there, girls such as this one were a rarity. 

“Of course,” she nodded once and then looked at Cassian, who got up from the sofa.

“Also Mr. Night,” Cassian smiled, his handsome face splitting into an affable grin. She offered him a little smile too, and for some reason, that made Azriel unhappy. He wasn’t angry exactly, but she barely reacted to him, and here she was, offering sweet smiles to his brother. It wasn’t unexpected–Cassian was fun. Big, burly, handsome, with his black Fabio-long hair and an easy, loose-limbed walk.  

“Are you brothers, gentlemen?” she inquired, motioning for them to follow her. 

“We are,” Cassian confirmed.

“Yes, I can see the resemblance,” she said breezily, to which Cassian responded, “Of course I am the more handsome, well-adjusted brother!”

She smiled a polite smile, and Azriel blandly stretched his lips in a fake smile, wanting to punch Cassian in the bollocks.

Unbelievable that Cassian was starting to flirt with her within two minutes of being in her presence! Unbelievable or predictable?

Anyway, this was going terrible and he just wanted to get out of here.

“Would you like some tea, gentlemen?” she offered.

“Would love some,” Cassian agreed immediately, and Azriel clenched his fist until his nails dug into his fist painfully. Now they were having tea! They’d never fucking get out of this bizarre place in the middle of fucking Holborn or wherever the fuck they were. 

“You seem tense, Mr. Night,” she said quietly, and he was surprised to find her in front of him, her big brown eyes kind and understanding. “Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”

Easier said than done, but Azriel followed her advice and plummeted into a comfortable armchair in front of a large, clean desk. Cassian sat in an identical chair next to him. Piglet the pug eased himself between them and sat down on the plush carpet, looking up at his new guests with interest. Cassian immediately attempted to play with the dog, extending his hand and asking to ‘give paw’, which Piglet did. 

The girl, whose name Azriel still didn’t know, returned with a tray laden with tea service. Actual tea pot and nice cups and saucers, platters with biscuits and pastries. She poured them tea, handed them the cups and only then did she sit down behind her impressive, polished walnut desk. 

“I am Elain Archeron,” she introduced herself at last.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Archeron,” Cassian grinned, and Azriel nodded. The rain behind the window was getting worse, and Azriel felt that he was here for the long run. “This is a very nice office,” Cassian continued to pile on the compliments. “Business must be going well for you, to be able to afford a place like this. You do come very highly recommended and your services are highly regarded.”

She drummed a manicured finger on the desk and explained, “I inherited the building. The house is mine, and I use this carriage house for my office. My great-great-grandmother, also named Elain, was the lover of the Duke of Velaris,”

At that, Cassian gave her a salacious look, and Azriel sipped his tea in bland silence. It was good. Strong. And of course there is some high society sex story that was going to be attached to this girl–it was a given. She seemed like the type. Lovers, dukes, mistresses, inheritances, estates…Fucking ‘Downton Abbey’ is where he now was. A nightmare.

Elain continued, “She was very active in the suffragette movement at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century, and was good friends with Emmeline Pankhurst, who lived just down the road, in what is now the Fitzroy.”

Azriel’s brain was working slowly, because he was now warm and sleepy, but he recalled something about all of this from class–the name Emmeline Pankhurst sounded familiar. She was one of the first feminist ladies, if he recalled correctly. 

“The Duke of Velaris gifted the house, this house, to my gran, so that the women could hold their meetings here. It’s been passed down the line, to the females of our family. I am the lucky one who inherited it this time around…This carriage house is quite convenient to house my business,”

“So you are a Duchess?” Azriel interrupted. 

She smiled and said, “Well, not exactly, but enough about me.”

“I told you she was posh,” Azriel glanced at Cassian, nodding in her direction. 

She ignored the comment and asked at last, “So, what brings you to Marigold? And who is in need of my services?”

“My brother here,” Cassian offered easily, “is in need of a wife.”

She exhaled and murmured, “well then”, and clicked her laptop, reading whatever was on the screen. Azriel fumed silently.

“I am assuming you are Azriel?” she asked, without taking her eyes off the screen. 

“I am,” he managed. 

“It says you are a footballer?”

“I am,” he confirmed reluctantly. Usually, his profession was a flex. He played for Arsenal, been a professional footballer since he was 17, and was currently the team’s captain. But somehow, right now, it didn’t seem as impressive as it usually did. Not when he was sitting in front of a damn Duchess!

Was she really a Duchess? Did Granny Elain only shagged the Duke, or did they have children? Because if Granny Elain looked like this Elain, it was no wonder that the Duke dipped his wick into that honey pot. 

“Are these monosyllabic answers how you court the ladies?” Elain asked, a note of tartness on her tongue.

Azriel’s eyes flared and he stared at her. The cheek on her!

“Pardon?” 

She shrugged innocently and continued looking at the screen, reading.

“I am just wondering why you would need my services, Mr. Night? You are a successful sportsman, and a footballer no less, and I assume that you are financially stable. Unless you have a gambling problem of some kind?”

“I don’t have a gambling problem!”

“Well, then, since you are an athlete, I am guessing it’s not drugs or drink. So, what is it then? Personality or sexual dysfunction?”

At that, she looked up and stared straight at him.

Azriel’s eyes bugged out. To be fair, so did Cassian’s.

“Excuse me?!” Azriel thundered. “Who the hell are you to imply that I can’t get my dick hard? Are you even married yourself? And where do you get off treating your potential clients like this? Let’s go, Cassian. I am not sitting here, listening to this shite!”

Elain remain unflappable all through his tirade, and watched him attempt to get up from the armchair, splashing hot tea over his shirt in the process. He cursed, the tea cup clanging and wobbling precariously in his hands.

“Are you very well done?” Elain then asked dryly, rising up and leaving the office.

Cassian sighed deeply and unhappily.

“Well, that went well,” he groaned.

“She was taking the piss!” Azriel retorted angrily, though he was feeling kind of foolish now. He couldn’t believe that he lost his temper like that. He wasn’t even a temperamental man, but somehow, this stuck-up little floozy with her pearls and her judgemental tone set his teeth on edge. “I bet she isn’t even married herself! Who’d marry a cow like that? A bloke would have to be suicidal…She’d nag him to death…”

Suddenly, from behind them, Elain voice said calmly, 

“Glad to know that it’s not sexual issues, but just your horrible personality.”

Azriel felt his face flush. He’d assumed that she stormed out and left them to see themselves out, but apparently, she heard everything that he said to Cassian. He called her a ‘cow’. Shit.

She handed him a hand towel to blot out the tea from his shirt and then went back to her desk.

Piglet was growling angrily at Azriel, back to stand on his three legs, his crooked sharp little teeth bared and ready to sink into any part of Azriel in defence of Elain.

“Piglet, it’s okay,” Elain said softly, while Cassian attempted to pet him and almost lost a finger in the process, when Piglet snapped at him viciously.

“My apologies, Ms. Archeron,” Cassian muttered. “This didn’t go as planned. We won’t be wasting any more of your time and will be on our way.”

She sighed and waved her hand at him,

“I apologise for my shortness. But, you must understand, I also don't want to waste anyone’s time. Not yours, gentlemen, not my own. If Mr. Night isn’t interested in my services, then I understand and we won’t proceed any further.”

“No,” Cassian interrupted. “He is interested. Believe me. He is,” and he threw a murderous look in Azriel’s direction. 

Elain pursed her lips and said, “I find it hard to believe. But if you wish, let’s discuss your situation. I feel like there is more to the story that I am not understanding.”

She was now talking directly to Cassian, pretty much ignoring Azriel altogether, and that made his hackles rise. However, he didn’t feel that it was prudent to continue arguing with her. Let Cassian handle this however he wanted.

Elain refilled Azriel’s cup and handed it back to him. He was surprised at that. The biscuits looked good too, so he picked one up from the tray and bit into it. It was divine. Buttery, crispy, meltingly tender inside. He’d never eaten a biscuit like this before. 

“This is incredible,” he couldn't stop himself from complimenting it.

A small smile touched Elain’s lips and she said, “Well, thank you, Mr. Night. I baked them myself.”

“You bake too?” he blurted out stupidly.

“I do. It was my first passion. That and flowers.”

“Of course,” he snorted. “Don’t worry, Miss, I didn’t think it would’ve been cage fighting. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are an escapee from the 50s,”

Sarcastically, she retorted, “no, how could I possibly take that the wrong way? Forgive me, sir, if I am well-mannered, and decorous, and like genuine relationships between people, which aren’t based on Instagram likes and follows.”

“I am a little surprised that you know what Instagram is,” Azriel added. “Seeing as you use words such as ‘decorous’...”

“Aright, okay,” Cassian clapped his huge hands together and rubbed them together. “That’s enough. Let’s move on, shall we?”

Elain sighed dramatically and said, “Fine. Tell me then why Mr. Night is in need of a wife then?”

“Gladly,” Cassian cried with fake excitement. “Azriel and I grew up in a…challenging environment,”

Elain didn’t say anything, but Azriel could see that that did not surprise her. 

“Our family situation wasn’t the best,” Cassian continued, “until we were adopted by our distant uncle. You might have heard of him, considering your background–Lord Darling, the construction magnate.”

She nodded, “I am familiar with Lord Darling. He has a son–Rhysand, I believe. You three are related then?”

“We are. Rhys is our cousin. We were adopted when we were teens, Azriel was almost fifteen, I was about thirteen. Az was already showing a lot of promise on the field, his talent raw and genuine,”

Azriel died inwardly from the praise. He was never comfortable with it, even when it was deserved.

“Signed at seventeen to Manchester City,” Elain said casually, like a spy recalling a dossier. “Then, at twenty-three, sold to Arsenal and has been there ever since. Captain for the past three years, if I am not mistaken?”

Cassian just stared at her, as did Azriel, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“He is a forward and his number is 14. Last year, he scored 34 goals, tied only with Haaland. Height–6”5, very tall for a footballer, and weight is 188 lbs.," with that, Elain leaned back, and looked at both of them. 

“I wouldn’t have taken you as a football aficionado,” Cassian confessed after a long pause.

“I am not,” Elain said easily. “And I wouldn’t expect you to. I am an escapee from the 1950s, after all.”

Azriel pushed his tongue into his cheek, but didn’t rise to the taunt.

He wasn’t sure why, but it felt weirdly satisfying to hear her rattle off his stats. To say that he was shocked was an understatement, but also, secretly pleased. Fuck yeah he was as good as Haaland! And Haaland was 5 years younger than him. So there was that.

“As our American cousins would say,” Elain threw a biscuit to Piglet, who lunged at it voraciously, “this isn’t my first rodeo, Cassian.”

Oh, so now Cassian was Cassian. But Azriel was still Mr. Night.

That was fine. It’s not like Azriel cared.

“And that means that I do my research. Very thoroughly,” Elain assured them. “Before I take on any client, be it male or female, I need to know what and who they are. Do I scour news outlets? Social media? Gossip sites? Oh, you bet I do. And then there is a full criminal background check as well once someone becomes a client. 

“Mr. Night is acceptable,”

“Oh, well! Thank goodness for that,” Azriel exclaimed sarcastically.

“There is no need for that, Mr. Night,” Elain stopped him, “your notoriety is known, but it’s at an acceptable level. No long term relationships, no sexual assaults, but penchant for…” she cleared her throat, but ploughed forth, “orgies and group sex. Attempts at discretion, but not always successful.”

Shit, well this was embarrassing.

Azriel wasn’t sure why he should feel embarrassed at all? He was a single man in the prime of his life, but when it came from the lips of this lovely doll-like creature who was draped in pearls, his sexual history sounded…seedy. 

She didn’t pause, but continued, “only one arrest. When Mr. Night was 18–for destruction of property,”

“He spray painted a wall,” Cassian interjected.

Azriel just loved sitting here and being discussed like he wasn’t present.

“Ahh, an artist as well?” Elain commented.

Gah. She really was the most annoying woman he’d ever met. Annoying and condescending and impossible. 

“So, a famous, successful footballer from the Premier League who enjoys orgies and hasn’t had a girlfriend…ever, wants to find a wife? That’s quite a leap. Please explain.”

“Lord Darling is a very wealthy man,” Cassian said, “and he’s been kind to treat us well, even though we aren’t his sons. We are in his will, and it’s not been kept secret from anyone. The will stipulates one condition for all of us: Rhys, Az and myself. In order to receive the inheritance, we have to be married by the age of 30. If we are not, the inheritance is null and void and we receive nothing. Azriel is the eldest–he will be turning 30 in March. I have another year and a half to go and Rhys is the youngest at 26.”

“Aren’t you wealthy in your own right?” Elain challenged, looking directly at Azriel.

“I am,” he said.

Muscling in, Cassian piped in, “You don’t understand, Ms. Archeron. The inheritance is very large,”

Seeing her expression, Cassian added,

“It’s 230 million. Each. It’s a lot of money to just let go.”

It finally dawned on her and she nodded with understanding. 

“It is a rather large sum,” she agreed with an exhale.

“It is,” Cassian nodded, swallowing two biscuits at once. “These are good!” he mumbled, before saying, “and since it is such a huge amount, and this is a serious, lifelong decision, we all got to be thoughtful about it. Can’t leave this to chance anymore. As you’d mentioned, Az doesn’t have a steady girlfriend, so anyone new has to be vetted. We can’t have some slag from “Love Island’ latching on to him.”

Elain’s eyes popped at the word ‘slag’ being casually thrown into the conversation, but she stopped herself from commenting. 

“Also, Az will be moving on sooner rather than later.”

“Not too soon,” Azriel argued, but Cassian ignored him.

“Coaching or broadcasting,” Cassian continued. “Within 3-5 years, Az will retire from playing, but will probably move on to coaching once he passes all his coaching courses and certification. He’ll have a reputation to uphold–he’ll have to be respectable. Married, with children,”

“God Cass, you make it sound like I am being sentenced to life of hard labour,” Azriel moaned.

Elain chuckled. 

“Well, at least now it makes sense.”

Elain got up and went to the window behind her desk. 

Rain lashed violently against the glass, but it was nice here–at least Azriel liked it. The girl was still kind of a bitch, but she smelled nice, of jasmine, with an undertone of honey, and she baked and she was pretty. And her arse was fine, even hidden behind her pleated skirt. All of her was fine, except for her personality and her sharp tongue.

“Mr. Night,” she said quietly, without turning from the window. Azriel knew that she was addressing him, because Cassian busied himself with fixing Piglet’s bow.

“Please confirm that you are the kind of man who’ll accept a woman with high energy and high ambitions,” Elain asked. 

“What?”

“The women that contact me–that’s what they are. They are busy with professional lives, they are usually very well financially off, they are confident and independent. Most either don't have time to look for a partner on their own or want to meet someone who’s been screened and who matches their needs and asks. 

“But I must inquire again–is that the type of woman you desire? Someone who would stand up for herself, and someone who might not give up her own career for yours? Someone who might be complicated, if you know what I mean. Educated, serious, elegant, demanding. Not someone who’d roll over for you or inflate her lips or bleach her hair.”

“I don’t really want anyone with bleached hair,”

“Well that’s good isn’t it? Because I’d present you with matches who will challenge and entice you. But you need to tell me that that’s something you are comfortable with and that’s something you want?”

“He wants it,” Cassian shot immediately, playing with Piglet and cooing at him, muttering ‘you are a pretty boy, aren’t you? Yes you are. Yes you are…”

Elain raised her hand and turned to face them.

“I must insist that Mr. Night answer this question, Cassian. This is the rest of his life we are talking about. I understand that you have his best interests at heart, but that’s not enough. Mr. Night must decide for himself.”

Azriel crossed his arms on his chest and chewed his lips, thinking.

He liked her straightforward manner. Her insistence. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say that she was describing herself in these women that she’d be setting him up with. Only it wasn’t the case–Elain was delicate and classic. She was a matchmaker, for god’s sake, not some boardroom lioness. She had a pug who wore a satin bow. But she was dogged, and confident, and he didn’t mind it. He didn’t mind her self-assuredness at all. Other things…he kind of minded. 

“Yeah, okay,” he said at last. 

Elain cocked her brow at him, her expression a mixture of disdain and disbelief. 

“Well, ‘yeah, okay’ doesn’t exactly fill me with excitement, but I suppose we’ll go with that,” she concluded at last. 

Cassian chuckled. 

She clicked something on her laptop, and Azriel heard the sound of a printer. 

“This is the contract, gentlemen,” she told them, as she gathered a hefty bundle of pages and stuffed them into a folder. “Take a look at it and if you are going to pursue my services, I’d like for you to return it to me, signed, by tomorrow. Say one o’clock?”

Cassian snatched the folder and nodded, “Yes, we will.”

“I apologise for how quickly we are moving here, but we are under a tight timeline, it seems,” she reminded them. 

Suddenly losing his usual indifferent bravado, Azriel asked, his voice quiet,

“And what happens after? If we sign it,”

“You sign it,” Elain ordered brusquely. 

“Fine. I sign it. What happens after that?”

“We sit down, discuss your mating criteria, and take it from there,”

“I am sorry, what? What is a ‘mating criteria’?” 

“Basically, your requirements for your future mate. Blonde or brunette? Tall or short? Level of education? Hobbies? Interests? All of it.”

“Mating criteria is the least sexy term I’ve ever heard,” Azriel complained. 

“Well, I am sorry, Mr. Night–I'll leave the ‘sexy’ part to you. My job is to find you the woman for all your sexy needs and then some.”

Azriel got up, followed by Cassian.

“I mean, you can just marry me,” Azriel suddenly blurted.

Both Elain and Cassian paused and stared at him with evident shock on their faces.

“I am sorry?” 

Backtracking frantically, he tried to make light of it, internally berating himself and wondering what the hell possessed him to say something so stupid. He’d rather rip his nuts off than be married to her!

“I mean, it would save both of us some time. And in a year, we could be divorced. No harm, no foul. And I won’t even request any conjugal satisfactions from you,”

“Okay, okay,” Cassian muttered, grabbing Azriel’s upper arm and squeezing it until he stopped the blood flow. “I think we’ve said enough. We’ll see you later, Ms. Archeron,”

She, meanwhile, was fuming, her hands on her hips, as she snarled,

“You wouldn’t request conjugal satisfactions? You? Who said I’d ever even let you near me!?”

“I am sure he was just joking,” Cassian murmured through clenched teeth. “Nerves, you know. Nerves. Forgive him, Miss Elain. No conjugal anything between the two of you, of course. Hahaha. That’s funny. Let’s go. Let’s. Go.”

He half dragged Azriel alongside him.

“Consider it!” Azriel called out.

“No. Fucking. Thank. You.” She yelled after them.

“Shit, you said ‘fucking’!” Azriel grinned. “Miss Perfect is not so perfect after all.”

** credit to @deathsweetblossoms for suggesting the title for the story!

[goldenempyrean]

True Or Tale?

〚 Day 12 - Old Wives Tale〛

〚 Pairing - Florence Pugh x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Maybe old wives' tales have some truth to them. 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Sicktember 2023 Masterlist 〙

“You’ll get sick if you go out in the cold with wet hair.” Florence mumbled as she read off the random article on her phone, “I’m blaming this crap on that.” She said with a small sniffle, rolling over on the sofa so that she was laying on her side instead of on her back, her head still comfortably in your lap. 

"I think that's just an old wives tale darling," You hummed in reply, as you reached forward to grab some tissues, handing one to her before sniffling into your own, "We've both been running around at those press tours all week, we probably picked up something there, I doubt the rain helped at all though." 

The rain had been relentless during the press tours, drenching everything in its path and turning the bustling streets into a maze of puddles. Despite sharing an umbrella and trying to stay dry it seemed neither of you managed to escape the persistent pouring. Getting sick did seem to have its plus sides though, for one the two of you had an excuse to stay inside all day and just hide away from the world and secondly, it gave you both the opportunity to spend some private quality time together – even if it was punctuated by sniffles. 

Florence shifted slightly, her head still resting in your lap as she mustered a weak smile. "What would you say to me going and grabbing us some of that ice cream we bought?” 

You raised an eyebrow, unable to deny the temptation of the cool treat, “Oh, that does sound good actually,” You gave into a small smile, “It’ll help your throat a bit, are you sure you want to get it? I can go grab it.” 

She waved your worry away with a casual hand. "I’ll be fine darling, I’ll survive the journey to the kitchen, don't worry your pretty little head about that.” Florence grinned as she slowly sat up, wincing at the ache in her sinuses. "I'll be back before you know it, darling." She gingerly got to her feet and shuffled towards the kitchen, her oversized sweater sleeves falling over her hands. 

You heard the soft clinking of utensils and the refrigerator door opening. A brief silence was followed by the muffled sound of Flo sneezing loudly. It was a sound that made you chuckle softly despite the situation. 

"Bless you darling!" You called out from the living room, your voice filled with affectionate amusement before you reached forward to grab the remote, casually beginning to scroll through the channels as you looked for something to watch. 

Florence's voice carried back to you, slightly nasally, "Thanks.” She smiled, coming back into view holding two bowls, each having numerous scoops of icecream. She’d given you strawberry whist she’d gone for vanilla. 

You both began to eat in contented silence, occasionally sharing soft smiles and stolen glances. The ice cream was a temporary relief against the aching of your throats, and you savoured every spoonful. 

After a while, Florence set her empty bowl aside and turned her attention to you. "Feeling a bit better now?" she asked, her voice still slightly congested but she did sound a little cheerier now. 

You nodded, feeling the warmth of her enveloping you. "Yeah, you and icecream seem to make everything better." You replied, reaching out to gently caress her cheek. 

She leaned into your touch; her eyes filled with affection. "You're such a sweetheart," she murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. 

Time seemed to slip away as you continued to watch TV, as you cuddled into your girlfriends side you were powerless to stop your eyes from growing heavy and tired. You let out a soft yawn, and Flo sat up a little, looking down at your curiously. 

"Getting tired, love?" she asked, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. 

You nodded, unable to stifle another yawn, “A Little.” 

“Okay, stand up for a sec’.” She instructed, which you did so, watching as she handed you her blanket and led down fully on the sofa, patting her chest as you titled your head, “C’mere, lay down on me.” 

It was impossible to hide how your lips perked up into a small smile as you laid down on her chest, wrapping the blanket over yourself, in turn covering her too, tucking it in at the sides. “Thank you.” You murmured softly moving to rest your head on her chest "I’m glad we're in this together." 

She nodded, her hand coming to rest on your back as you cuddled into her, closing your eyes,"That’s true, I mean, misery loves company, right?" 

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[doodle-pops]

Dear Mina,

Question: How would the Ainur flirt with their S/O?

Thank you.

a/n: Oh boy, did I have a ball of a time laughing as I wrote these. These aren't different from my Ainur Simp headcanons. The only difference is the new members.

The Ainur Flirting with their S/O

Manwë

Dances and swoons you like a tropical bird but with more elegance and charisma. Expect to be asked to dance at festivals and balls or receive lots of jewellery (sparkles). Know that he will serenade you all the time, dedicating each piece for you (yes, he writes them).

Irmo

Doesn't waste the opportunity to be at your side whenever you are alone. Asking you for walks and tucking flowers into your hair while citing poems. Kissing the back of your hand and looking you deep in the eye while charming you with his charismatic self. Sends you the sweetest dreams ever, and you never suffer nightmares.

Námo

Oh boy, after his brother gave him advice, he would invite you to dinner frequently and ask you about your day. He wants to learn about you instead of flirt, so his approach is more gentlemanly and professional (he's a serious man). Give you a bouquet of your favourite flower and something to symbolise his affection towards you.

Ulmo

He spends most of his time with you on the beach or near any open area of water, but mostly the beach. Taking you deep underwater and showing you aquatic and oceanic life. Gifting you pearls and the prettiest seashells he can find. His favourite moments would be to sit with you on the sand under the moonlight.

Tulkas

Shows off his strength as proof of his admiration for you while also praising yours. He's a pleaser and would do anything to make you smile. Going out of his way to lifting your spirit (and lifting you) through his praises. Every defeat is done in your honour.

Oromë

Shows off his skills as the greatest Huntsman and brings produce for you every month (his ability to provide). Frequently visiting and teaching you the ropes of hunting. Expect to be gifted a few animals if you're an animal lover or have his special creatures show up to gift you some souvenir that he planned to give you months ago and was nervous about.

Melkor

He's seductive about his strategies and prefers to seduce you. He's always standing close and pushing your hair out of your face or neck or resting a hand on your back. He loves to hand-feed you himself for some reason, like strawberries or have you sample his wine from his glass.

Eönwë

Just like his King but boisterous and flamboyant about it. He goes all out and would perform aerial dances or find you little pebbles and shinies out on his flights. He would even take you on flights just to have you cling to him. Always gifts you a feather to have a piece of him.

Tilion

He is quick to visit during the day and spends every moment at your side asking you about your day. Gifts you little trinkets that are different moon phases and tells you he'll watch over you when you're asleep. He has the tendency to break the moon's course just to shine moonlight on you even if he gets scolded.

Ossë

Collects pearls and seashells and prepare them on a turtle shell as a gift to you. Whenever you're in the water, the tides tend to become calmer or around you. He loves to give you the advance over others when you're sailing on the seas. Sends sea creatures to gift you little trinkets whenever he can't make it.

Mairon

You're the only person who is allowed to be within contact distance and touch him. He greets you with a cheerier melody compared to everyone else and always waits on you hand and foot. Actually compliments you and gifts you pieces he made himself. There's a softer look on his face when you're around.

[novemberhush]

So, I spent 3 hours in the middle of the night searching for the list of addresses of the people my mum wants me to send Christmas cards to on her behalf. This was after having seen a lot of posts about The Terror on tumblr earlier in the evening. Which naturally meant I ended up dreaming about writing Christmas cards of my own to the crew (some of whom were actually in my living room with me as I wrote the cards).

The Gävle Goat posts must’ve also made their way into my subconscious because I dreamt there was a real goat curled up on my sofa, with a couple of characters from The Terror (I can’t quite remember who, but I think Jopson was there), and then Francis Crozier (Jared Harris) walked in and we bantered about how the card I’d picked for him was of a rather grey and gloomy house, but there was a little bright spot of Christmas lights in it, and how it suited him somehow. I held up a much cheerier one and said he could have it instead if he wished, but he agreed the first one fitted him.

Then he tried to touch the goat’s horns and the hitherto placid goat got a little worked up and I had to tell him not to touch its horns, while the other members of the crew soothed it.

And then I woke up. Make of all that what you will.

[1moreff-creator]

Happy Birthday David Chiem!

Usually, for these characters’ birthdays, I do a somewhat half-hearted attempt at a character analysis. But do you think I’m gonna do this for David? Hell no, he’s way too complicated for me to do something like that in this style of post! And I am not making a post that difficult right after that Mai thing.

So, instead, I’m just going to list a few fun facts, because that’s easier. Hope you like it anyways!

(By the way, I’ve always loved that frame of the MV so, so much)

-His birthday lands on “National Book Lovers’ Day”, which says National but is recognized globally. Considering the MV, I’d say that fits. It also coincides with the Annual Perseid Meteor Shower Peak Night, Co-working Day (hah, as if), and get ready, “Hold Hands Day”.

-His profile states he likes ready-make oatmeal. According to the recent Q&A, he can cook, he just prefers not to. This actually fits with quite a few scenes in the series where it’s implied he prefers not to get out of bed unless necessary (mood), such as his brief outburst in the introduction and the several times he’s shown not to eat with anyone else. Though maybe that’s actually caused by him hating people.

-He dislikes expensive things. Kinda based.

-He does TEDTalks, and that’s presumably where he gets his talent from.

-As he stated himself, he has pretty bad bed hair. And apparently, he can summon it at will, as seen in Ch 2 Ep 11.

-His pupils seem to turn into stars whenever he… smiles or puts on a positive attitude? It doesn’t seem to follow a strict logic other than “whenever it looks cool”.

-He has an older sister named Diana. Or, well, that’s what he claims. Footnote 11 of you-know-what may imply she never actually existed. It’s unclear what this means at the moment.

-He seemed to genuinely like Xander, and wanted to be friends with him, as he’d value that relationship more than Xander’s idolatry.

-The secret quote in his page is "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I wish you could just die." How nice! This is either talking to himself, or presumably something he'll say to Teruko since their characters do be foiling.

-The quote on Mai's page attached to him is "She forgives everyone." It's the second to last line in the script, before MonoTV's. I have to physically restrain myself from theorizing.

-Some stuff from the Q&As:

*He usually wears semi-formal, 'professional' clothes.

*His blue hair is actually fully natural.

*This is the default sprite for his fuckboy persona:

... But, like, why though. Why's he so sassy.

*Bisexual with a strong female lean. Diversity win! The biggest liar you know is bisexual!

*His favorite color is gamboge (the yellow of his star pupils), stating it’s inspiring; while his least favorite is gray, stating it’s depressing. This could imply he actually likes the cheerier persona he usually puts on more than his real self, or the villainous persona he plays in the trial.

*He handles his feelings badly. We been knew.

*His hair clips were his manager’s idea, to build brand recognition. Apparently David doesn’t like this manager too much, but he puts up with them for the contract. Also, when he takes off his hair clips in the trial, he places them in his PANT POCKETS.

*I’m sure you’ve realized this, but you remember that section of the Q&A where the dev gives details about the family members we had known about from the series (Elliot Cuevas, Felicity Giles, Fuyuko and Natsuko Naegishi, Ryan Moreno/Rosales)? Diana Chiem isn’t mentioned, perhaps further hinting at her non-existence.

*He has an average amount of strength.

*His favorite ice cream flavor is pistachio, because of course it’s pistachio.

*He smells like men’s cologne, but only faintly. Hope you’re happy with that answer, you weirdos (/affectionate).

*He’s American, like everyone else except maybe Teruko.

And now, for his playlist! I kinda already posted this in a reblog to another post, but here it is officially!

+Literature Girl Insane, by Karasuyasabou (I mean, obviously)

+Undead Enemy, by Suzumu and Giga-P (probably his song from the official character playlist)

+Monochrome Mentality, by Riproducer / RIP

+Grey, by QueenPB

+The Distortionist, by Ghost & Pals (CW: Abuse)

+Copycat, by CircusP

+How to Pretend, by CircusP (FNAF pog)

+Echo, by Crusher-P

+God-ish, by PinocchioP

+The Court Jester, by thquib

+DISAPPEARANCE ADDICTION, by Kairikibear

+Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, by Set it Off

+The Things I Deserve, by Ghost & Pals (CW: suicide)

+All Eyes on Me, by OR3O

+Not Your Angel, by NightCove_theFox (apparently I’m making him into an Alice Angel kinnie)

And, finally…

+Happy birthday! Though he would absolutely despise anyone who tries to sing it to him, I imagine.

[henghost]

Twig Liveblog for Arc 9

jesus christ what a brutal arc... it felt like the baron was cutting out MY eye!! i know gordon's death was pretty heavily foreshadowed but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt! the strongest lamb just snuffed out anticlimactically by a faulty organ 😭 the academy must pay!!!

the next chapter, in which lillian injects wyvern to numb the pain--mood--was one of my favorites so far. visceral and devastating. the line about how lillian feels closest to sy immediately after his wyvern does and how sy feels most distant from her after her dose was heartbreaking--especially after seeing just how drastically it can alter a personality. does sy have an identity outside of wyvern? would lillian still love that version of sy? what unspeakable cruelty to taunt this weapon-child with visions of what a normal life might be like as the drug leaves his system, and then to make him chemically crave his own subjugation. also, if there's one thing we know about consciousness-altering substances it's that after you imbibe them you never want to do it again.... and then the dog dies in the next chapter oh my fucking god wildbow what did i ever do to you (actually don't answer that).

on a cheerier note, i think i'm ready to declare my undying support for mauer. he's so cool and sexy. he could start boiling babies alive in the next arc and i'd still defend him sorry not sorry. when they blew the duke's fucking brains out i was whooping with the rest of the mauerists. it's quite un-wildbowian, i found myself thinking, to make a religious leader so sympathetic (though the extent to which his religious veneer is just a ploy to get more people on his side is a little ambiguous), as religiosity, when it does come up in parahumans, is treated as fundamentally reactionary (the fallen being the primary example). there's also that little aside from one of the soldiers about how "safe to pray" now that the crown and academy have been repelled. i'm not quite sure what to make of it, and it's further complicated by the interlude.

the interlude, indeed, helped to clarify my thoughts about the primordials. unlike other experiments, which are either clones, edits of preexisting life, or frankenstein reanimations, the primordials are entirely new forms of life. they represent a counterpoint to the crown's attempt to create something "beyond" humanity through advanced science. and because they are truly new, they constitute a legitimate threat to the status quo: this is why they enthrall mauer, and why they terrify the crown. mauer literally chaining up a "god" of his own creation (who loathes him) to serve his own ends is, let's say, a little on the nose.

the twins were cool but the fight went on way too long. idk why getting married to the baron is treated like a fate worse than death... like girl i know tons of people who would kill to be in that position... anyway i saw arc 10 is like over 20 chapters long so it might be a while till the next one of these lol. the classic wildbow frogboil!!

[stoportotouch]

hi copper! i consider you as both a hodgeposting + opera/classical music expert, so i was wondering: who do you think is george’s favourite composer and/or opera, and why?

ooh excellent question actually! i am. slightly tempted to say one of the scott adaptations just because. you know. (irving's dad was scott's childhood friend.) buuuuut that's kind of an easy answer tbh so i will Not go with it.

i feel like based on his personality in the book and the show he probably has kind of a soft spot for mozart though. and he probably identifies in a really uncomfortable way with Tamino My Dear Friend Tamino (the tenor from the magic flute)... but also with pamina (said tenor's love interest).

seeing that show hodgson is a bit fancier than his book counterpart those two meet Quite Nicely in the middle with mozart. who was capable of being lowbrow when he wanted to but also he did like a theme. (partly because book hodgson likes music hall music, which was generally quite bawdy.)

however. the opera ernani premiered in england very shortly before the expedition departed. and i am sure that i have shared my theory before that this was the last opera that both hodgson and little saw before they left (although they didn't yet know each other). and while little left thinking "well that was fucking silly wasn't it?" (only to realise later), uh, hodgson did not and instead was followed around by a sense of malaise and anxiety for weeks.

this is of course partly because he went to ernani very shortly after he got ghosted by irving, also its own thing. he probably therefore felt very :( about silva's aria where he's going on about how he wishes that his heart was frozen and he didn't have feelings because seeing his fiancée (who does NOT like him, i would point out) being catfought over by two men (!) is that upsetting for him. and he was very much Not casual about irving in spite of generally being like "no even if i am screwing the same person regularly it is never Uncasual".

howm ever. as well as the usual Bel Canto Sex Bullshit, central to ernani is a story about a guy who gives his Detested Rival a hunting horn that, if the rival blows into it, ernani will immediately drop everything and kill himself. and then he marries the woman that the Detested Rival is in love with, and so The Horn Is Blown. little doesn't realise for A Good While but hodgson is trans and a victorian enough to be familiar with figuratively carving bits off himself to see the end of the opera and go "hm. yep." and go home and cry for an evening.

(on a cheerier note, however, he does think that the leading lady is just like. conceptually hot. and how could he not when she goes about threatening men with a dagger like "if you don't behave. it's the Phallic Blade for you. don't test me!")

[giyrut-girlie]

hello jumblr im here with a random thing that’s bringing me joy and really affirming my conversion process

im having heaps of fun working out which minhagim I want to take on and how my practice will look as a unique reflection of my personal connection to judaism and the rich world of jewish traditions

for those following along with my ramblings i had a terrible argument/discussion with my rabbi abt trans issues and felt really disconnected from judaism for a bit bc of it, but that experience actually made me stop and think about how i want my Judaism to look - he’s a Chabad rabbi so i had unintentionally taken on a lot of chabad minhagim but being snapped out of it in a sense has made me feel a lot freer to carve out my own path. Orthodoxy isn’t just chassidish or charedi or “black hat” - i can make my own space within orthodoxy!!!!

anyway thought y’all would enjoy this slightly cheerier post on the tag <3

[leffee]

Foxy headcanons part 2 because I love him (will also include lots of him interacting with characters from other fnaf games)

he has his own place to sleep in Pirate Cove of course, but he often sleeps with others, either on the main stage or in the backstage area. Pirate Cove is not the biggest, and in order not to fall he has to curl up a bit, which can be uncomfortable sometimes. He has this one tattered blanket that he got from a kid long time ago and he cherishes it

him and Mangle are such friends (and just friends, I really dislike them as a ship). Mangle is quite taller than him when in fixed form that is, and it's the one I'm using, although not related, they have a lot of sibling energy, with Mangle being the older, caring sister

him and Rockstar Foxy have a different dynamic though. Rockstar Foxy is brighter, newer, more full of life, and way more of a pirate than Foxy is. Rockstar Foxy has such sympathy for him, because that is him yet looks so much broken down and sadder. So their friendship mostly consists of Rockstar Foxy trying his best to pump some life into him. And Foxy really appreciaties it, it's just weird seeing whom is essentialy him like that, louder, cheerier, more energetic and of course without any holes

him and Monty thooough, ugh, it's actually becoming one of my favourite duos, and it's absolutely my 2nd favourite ship. But anyway, Monty is just this really tall really brawny guy and his enthusiasm gets to Foxy a lot when he's around him, without even trying too hard. To Monty. Foxy is just this little guy whom he constantly picks up and practically throws around, though always catching him. Foxy really trusts him actually, he allows Monty to do anything he wants with him and the other 100% does just that. Foxy's napping and out of nowhere Monty will appear, pick him up under his arm and take somewhere to do some stuff (never watched Security Breach, no clue if that's anywhere near to Monty's canon personality, then again those are called headcanons for a reason)

his hook hand gets him in a lot of minor problems. Even after years of having it he sometimes forgets to consider it and, for example, reaches for objects with his hook without looking. He scrapes walls with it, makes holes with if the material is pliant enough, sometimes hurts himself by accident, but by far the worst is when his hook gets tangled in his tail, which did happen a few times before. He can never free it himself, plus he doesn't want to rip his tail fur, so he will, with one hand awkwardly stuck behind his back, go to one of the other animatronics and ask them for help

because of being the lightest of the animatronics (in restuarant from fnaf 1) he can, with some difficulty, jump quite high. How high? Well, he can jump on top of the arcades. You're free to play that game, he's just resting there, though his tail might accidentaly get in the way. In such case just push it aside, he won't mind

That's enough for now. Foxy with Monty is my beloved duo more and more, which wasn't ony my fnaf bingo card and yet it happened