#But I can't hook my computer up right now so I can't draw anything

[luveline]

Hi! I seriously love the way you write parental relationships with kids. Not really sure if you’d be interested in this idea but would the reader ever need to pick up Roan from daycare when Eddie has to stay late at work?

hi! im so happy you do baby, thanks so much for your request! this was a great idea, you're a wonder ;) this one got really long by accident it's not my fault ♡ girl dad eddie x fem!reader

It's a desperate phone call. You just got home from work and you can hear the landline ringing as you open the door.

"Hello?" you ask, hooking the red plastic receiver between your cheek and your shoulder.

"Hey, it's Eddie!"

You could tell from the grinding sounds in the background. "Hey. Working hard or hardly working?"

Usually Eddie would laugh at your bad jokes. He might look all frosty and cool on the outside but he's not so tough on the inside, a veritable goodball through and through. It's easy to think of him blowing raspberries on Roan's tummy, their matching happy smiles.

"Did you hear me?" he asks.

"What?"

"I asked if you'd do me a favour."

"Sure thing," you say immediately. You ease your shoes back on. "What do you need?"

"Could you pick Roan up from daycare?"

You drop the phone and scramble to pick it up where it's swaying left to right. "Is everything okay?" you ask worriedly.

"Everything is fine! Well, everything sucks, but it's fine. They need my hands for something, 'n usually I'd ask Wayne to grab her for me but he's tied up." You blink. "It's okay if you can't," he adds. You think he might be saying, It's okay if you don't want to.

You grin. "I can get her no problem. Will they let me? Do I need to be on, like, a list?"

"I can call them first. You're sure you don't mind? You can bring her here-"

"Where? To the garage? Can't she just come watch movies with me?"

He clears his throat. "You want to?"

There's lots of things you could say here. Eddie, I adore her. Of course I want to. Or even, Eddie, I'm pretty sure I adore you, so I'd do it even if I didn't love her to pieces.

"I'd love to! We can have a princess party, and-"

"That sounds great, baby. Thank you." His tone is a tad strained.

"Oh, right. Finish your thing! I'll get in the car as soon as you go," you assure him.

"Thank you," he says again, and hangs up.

You let yourself in through the first door and approach the desk.

You drive down to the daycare and can't help thinking about how excited you are to see Roan. You hope she'll be excited in turn, and then you tell yourself off for entertaining the idea. You're not her mom, you're not her anything. You're barely Eddie's anything.

You're really hoping you will be.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up Roan Munson," you say, nervous to talk to this lady you've never met before.

She squints up at you assessingly from behind a pair of bifocals.

"Eddie said he was gonna call."

"Nobody's called me," she says, monotone. "What's your name?"

You tell her your name. She says, "Uh-huh," like she couldn't believe you less and then clicks through a struggling computer, green light illuminating her face.

You twiddle your thumbs. You can hear the sound of kids playing behind the door but don't want to try peeking in case the lady thinks you're a freak.

Maybe Eddie's gonna call any second now and save you the awkwardness.

You open your mouth to reiterate when she hums. "Alright. I'll buzz you in."

She buzzes you in.

You're on the list. Eddie put you on the list.

You walk through the second door and spot Roan instantly, already dressed in her shoes, a chunky pair of black mary janes, and a sparkly red nylon jacket. Her curls are in frizzy braids, one hanging dangerously close to what looks like a pot of dirtied paint water.

The toes of your shoes hit the baby gate. The sound draws lots of attention, a bundle of kids all excited to see their parents and go home. Among them is Roan. Her eyes get wide and she smiles her lovely baby smile, hands paused where she'd been drawing a picture.

"Hey, princess," you say, not too loud as to disturb the workers but more than enough for her to hear you clearly. "You coming home with me?"

Rhetorical, obviously, but amazing to get to hear her say, "Yes! Yes, I'm come with you."

She strides to the babygate and lifts her arms. It's familiar now; while you haven't gotten any better at picking her up, you do it without thinking. You've barely wrapped your arms around Roan when a young man is passing you her backpack.

"Thank you," you say emphatically, not sure what to do with it. In the end you shrug it over your own shoulder.

Roan gives you a hug right there and then. She's all short limbs and extreme enthusiasm as she does, the paper in her hand smashed to your neck and the flyaways from her braids tickling your nose.

She so heavy. You can never get used to how heavy she is. You give her a great back-rubbing squeeze and then set her down. She isn't happy, but she doesn't get too mad, only pouts.

"You look like daddy when you do that."

"Where is daddy?" she asks.

You smooth down the lapels of her jacket. "He's at work with Uncle Wayne. But he sent me to come and get you. Does that sound okay?"

She shrugs. You shrug back at her because she's funny, and it makes you laugh.

"Yeah? I figured we'd go buy some candy and have a princess party." You whisper the last bit and watch awe slacken her face.

It quickly tightens. She screams and jumps at you, almost knocking you over in her rush to hug you.

It's a great feeling. You can tell why Eddie loves this part as much as he does.

You don't have a car seat for her so you decide you can walk the half an hour to your place. It feels long. You take pity on her little legs dragging halfway in and politely ask if you can carry her. She rests on the moving bump of your hip and answers questions about her day as best as she can, her drawing now safely tucked away in her mini backpack.

You stop at the small corner store on the way and let her fill a basket with drinks and chips and candy. All pink or purple, of course. Your princess party needs appropriate catering. There's a cheap tiara and wand set hanging on a rotating rack in the back and you add it as inconspicuously as you can to a growing heap of things so as not to spoil the surprise.

Carrying her and a grocery bag full of things is hard work but you don't mind, not when she's having such a great time. All she's done is chatter about princesses and her dad and you in varying arrangements and with varying passion.

"This is my house," you announce outside.

You let yourselves in, help her out of her shoes, and hold her hand as you climb the stairs together. Roan takes them one at a time. You don't suppose the trailer has as many.

"Good job, baby," you praise.

She gives you one of her more shy smiles and gets noticeably closer to your leg, almost clinging to you as you show her where the bathroom is and then your bedroom.

You don't quite have a princess bed, but you do have a lot of soft looking pillows. She squeals.

"You want to lie down?" you ask her knowingly.

Roan nods. You smirk and pick her up, rocking her back and forth as you count, "1, 2, 3," and toss her into your sheets. She lands with a roaring bubble of giggles and a poof of silken sheets.

You throw yourself down beside her.

She lolls her head to look at you. You share a private smile.

When Eddie finds you, it's in the living room. He'd knocked a couple of time and got no answer, had almost turned around to leave when he heard the TV playing a familiar princess song.

"Girls?" he asks, shocked at your sleeping figures.

Roan wears a cheaply made plastic tiara. Her shoes and socks are gone, her small legs and feet pushed out straight in front of her on the couch cushion. You have your legs kicked up on the coffee table and are surrounded by snacks, a plastic wind in one hand and Roan's hand in the other.

He weaves around discarded shoes and things and perches carefully on the coffee table next to your legs, freshly scrubbed hand reaching out to clasp your calf, rubbing up and down the length of it until you rouse from your dozing. Your hand tightens around his daughters. She's the first thing you check when you wake up.

His heart aches in the best way.

"Hey," he says, still rubbing your leg slowly.

"Hi, Eddie." You rub your face and sit up with a sigh, flopping over until your back is hunched.

Eddie chuckles under his breath and applies a little more pressure to his massage.

"That feels nice," you say through a yawn.

"I bet it does. Did you walk all the way here?"

You wipe your eyes with one hand and look at him through parted fingers for a moment. "Yeah," you confess sheepishly, dropping your hand. "I don't have a car seat."

His turn to be sheepish. "I'm sorry."

"No! Don't be, we," — you hold her hand like a trophy; his heart aches worse — "had a really good walk. Great arm workout. That's my exercise for the year."

He holds his hand out for your empty one. You pass it to him. "Mm," he hums skeptically.

You blink owlishly. "It's okay."

"Seriously, I had a great time. Um, Roan might be out of commission for a bit though. She did some intense jumping on the bed earlier. Oh, and I'm totally forgetting the best part, she..." You fade off as Eddie brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it.

"I'm sorry you had to walk. I didn't think."

Eddie kisses the same spot and then let's it fall, rubbing the invisible mark with purpose. "Poor girls. I'll make it upto you," he promises.

"That's okay." You mean it. "I had a great time. She's- she's really awesome."

"Gets that from me."

"Sure does. Same as her bottomless pit of a stomach, and her moods, and her-"

"Okay, that's enough."

"-lovely good looks," you finish, eyebrows raising at the starts innocently. "What did you think I was gonna say?"

His laughter finally wakes Roan. She stretches out and mumbles dispassionately, grumpy to be pulled from sleep.

"Hey, princess," he says gently.

Though he feels bad for stealing your nickname, he can't not call her that when she's soft with sleep and wearing her cute crown. The fake pink gems shaped like hearts set in silver painted plastic adorning her inky curls may as well be real jewellery for how pretty she looks.

"Daddy," she cheers weakly, fatigue scratching her throat.

"Poor baby needs a drink," you say.

You're on your feet before Eddie can stop you. He watches you go. Roan climbs into his lap with a self-satsified noise, digging her face into his chest. He looks down at her and drops a handful of dainty kisses against her head.

"Did you have a good day?" he murmurs into her hair.

"Good day, daddy," she says agreeably, already falling back into sleep.

"Best day ever!" you say from the kitchen.

He tries not to feel too jealous and fails.

-

more of eddie and roan

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie munson

[sinysterautica]

WOAAAH YOU CAN ASK MY CHARACTERS THINGS TOO?!?!!

Also inspired by my friends' askboxes (with @architect-lumicent and @lostchelicerate starting this up), I decided to try this out as well! I haven't talked about my characters that much here on Tumblr, yet, so this would be a nice way to get people a little more informed about my weird head puppets. From left to right, we have RY-MI, LO-RE, Ren-EE, a little lower with their arms wide open R-ELI, SW-AN, that little human Erin Webbs, and finally TA-WN! I would have included my good ol' CO-NA, but he's a massive super computer Architect and drawing him in would have been awkward. He's literally just a bigger RY-MI. Feel free to ask my characters anything! Whether it is lore related, or absolute tomfoolery, just lay it on us. Anonymous asks are also open, I just only ask to keep it PG-13!

More information about the characters after the break. This will double as a character "master post" until I make a separate one.

RY-MI :: This young Architect is the apprentice of CO-NA and specializes in space drydock management, spacecrafts, and other vehicles. He was the best friend of R-ELI while the two were still broodlings and assisted in their escape from their Network's High Order. RY-MI is also notorious for "taking his dad's car without permission" and test driving spacecrafts. LO-RE :: As the designated historian, record keeper, and anthropologist of her closed off faction's Network, LO-RE is incredibly no nonsense. She takes her work incredibly seriously and is currently stationed on 4546B to salvage information, though fortunately she is a tolerant individual. Can't say the same for Erin, though, she hates that poor guy. Ren-EE :: Ahh, the founder of the closed off faction that a majority of my characters are part of. He split of many Architects from the main Network and created his own nation with them due to the Kharaa, but even after the pandemic died down he continued to keep his people in secrecy. While he himself had a rebellious streak and is rather hardheaded, when R-ELI showed the same attitude he was not swift to understand... in fact, he was swift to shun them into the cosmos. R-ELI :: They are an exiled Architect who used to be the apprentice of the High Order. However, due to their very pointed opinions and all the issues they caused for the High Order, they were removed. Forced away, they're now in charge of their own education/research projects, space travels, and creative progression. They also have severe trust issues because they know too much about people and people want to know what it is. They're pretty silly otherwise. SW-AN :: Stationed on 4546B with LO-RE in order to help them navigate the water planet, SW-AN is a well recognized and educated marine biologist. However, he is also fairly antsy and is spooked easily. He is incredibly close to Erin Webbs and is the partner of TA-WN. Erin Webbs :: He is an Alterran who was sent down with the disguised LO-RE and SW-AN in order to carry out Architect research... which was hidden from Alterra otherwise. He tries his hardest to assist the other two as much as possible and he shows a considerable amount of care for them, even if he makes plenty of quips, but LO-RE does NOT want him to know anything at all... well, that's until he finds out they're actually Architects anyways and he's forced to abandon Alterra. TA-WN :: Commonly referred to as the yeehaw Architect, TA-WN is an ex-industrial worker and is now a full time wildlife conservationist. She knows damn well how to pull her weight and throw the weight of others around. CO-NA :: The Commander in Navigation and Armory. His vessel has been altered to be able to hook up to technology all throughout the Network, however he specializes in vehicles, navigation directory and paths, and weaponry. His vessel also doubles as a massive super computer and for these reasons, he mostly stays within a facility and has his apprentice do the work that requires actively moving about. Very chill guy, just needs a ridiculous amount of Architect coffee and a break from Ren-EE. Psst if you made it here, Architeresa / TA-RA is also available to be asked.

#subnautica below zero #subnautica #architect subnautica #architect oc #subnautica oc #ask box #sinysterautica ocs

[leftoverenvy]

Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 2)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades.  Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune.  The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend.  As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur.  But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: eventual smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18); very slow burn

Word Count: 2.3k

Emily's POV!

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Tumblr

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @milfprotector 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @scargarcia-magshotchner 💜; @hotchs-bitch ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @sadgirlml ; @spencersendgame

Chapter 2 - Forced Proposal

Emily's POV: I was sitting in the bullpen, trying to finish my last report for the day, but I couldn't focus.  Paperwork days were the bane of my existence.  I wanted to be out in the field talking with families, or in the interrogation room questioning suspects.  I pulled the pen, fresh with new teeth marks, out of my mouth and sighed.

I urged myself to finish this report; if I finished this one, I could go home.  But even that wasn't as big an incentive as I'd like.  There was nothing for me waiting there.  Even though I had felt lonely in my last relationship, now – since splitting with JJ – I was lonely AND alone.  It had never bothered me before, but I had several big events scheduled over the next few months.  It didn't help that the last tabloid read, "Ms. Prentiss seen alone once again at Senator Kane's birthday party."  I didn't want to see that again the morning after a social function.

I had never minded being alone before.  In fact, being alone was required during my time with Interpol.  I thought taking this job at the BAU would help me have a more normal schedule and be able to put roots down.  Dating my coworker was the wrong way to do that.  But truthfully, I had no way to put roots down because I didn't meet anyone outside the walls of this bullpen.

I quickly scribbled a last note on this shit report.  It was well-below my standards, but I didn't care anymore.  I quickly packed up my briefcase and stood up to go home.

"Prentiss!" Rossi, standing in the doorway of his office, shouted from across the bullpen.  I snapped my head up and raised an eyebrow at him.  "Come here!" he shouted again, waving his hand to draw me in his office.  I had been so close to sneaking out undetected. 

I wound my way through the bullpen, up the stairs, and towards his office.  "What?" I asked, a bit too curtly.

"Hey now!" he responded defensively.  "Don't bite my head off yet.  You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I'm sorry, Rossi," I apologized remorsefully.  "Really.  I'm just tired."

"It was a long day of boring paperwork."  He let me off the hook with a smile.

So I could get home quicker, I asked, "What did you need?"

"I noticed you haven't dated since JJ…"

My eyes widened so far I thought they might fall out of my skull.  Because dating coworkers was forbidden, JJ and I had kept things a secret.  Well, I thought we had kept things a secret.  "How-"

He held up a hand.  "Don't worry; I didn't tell anyone."  That wasn't the issue, but I was too embarrassed to say anything, so he continued.  "I don't think anyone else knew either.  Anyway!" he stopped himself, "I did something for you.  And before you go poo-pooing the idea, just hear me out."  Oh boy.  This couldn't be going anywhere good.

I bit at my fingernail, anxious to hear what he did.  "What is it?" I mumbled.  He flipped his computer around to show me a social media page with a picture of me I had never seen at the top.  I looked closer trying to figure out where that picture was taken, but upon closer examination, I noticed it wasn't a social media page; it was a sugar baby website.

"ROSSI!" I gasped, outraged.  I reached for his computer.

"I said don't poo-poo it immediately!" he reminded, pulling his computer out of my reach.

"Delete that!" I commanded.  "Now!"  I couldn't believe him.  I didn't need some vapid, materialistic sugar baby feigning interest in me just to get a diamond necklace and a Louis Vuitton.  I wasn't that lonely.

"This doesn't have to be serious," he said, still trying to get me on board.  "It's just for fun.  If you hate it, you can rub it in my face and lord it over me for the rest of our lives.  I'll even let you say 'I told you so.'  But just try," he begged.  "Don't delete it yet.  Give it a chance."

"Why should I?"  I was a bit hostile now; this was incredibly offensive.  But as I thought about it, I realized I wasn't going to meet anyone any time soon.  And the thought of showing up to the next event without a date, to hear my mother go on and on about how I must be doing something wrong, was unbearable.  Even if it were a fake date, I would not hear my mother criticize me for being single again. 

"There's nothing wrong with a little companionship, Emily.  Here," he handed me a paper, "Take this; it's the log-in info.  Just give it a try."

I was already on board, but hell if I was going to tell Rossi I was doing this.  "No."  I heard him sigh as I walked out of his office.  "Have a good night!" I threw over my shoulder.

I rushed home, called for takeout, took a shower, and then flopped on the couch.  David's log-in info, my log-in info, burned my hand as I held it and stared at my computer.  He already made it, I reminded myself.  Curiosity got the better of me and I logged in.  I was blown away by the twenty-six notifications I already had.  But first things first, change the password so David couldn't check up on me.

I then clicked on my profile to see what David set up.  I smirked.  He way underestimated my net worth.  There was no need to change it though; it was already quite high.  I marveled at my profile picture.  It was lovely.  Somehow David got a nice shot of me secretly taken on the jet.  I decided if I was going to do this, I'd go all out.  I added one of me in a nice suit taken at some past event.  I rolled my eyes at the memory of my mother chastising me for wearing a suit.

I clicked on the little bell icon to scroll through my notifications.  Each profile was nearly identical.  They were all obviously catered to what they thought someone would want to hear.  "Will show you the best time for small allowance" or "Looking for someone to spoil me and I'll spoil you in return ;)"  I rolled my eyes at each profile and then sighed, embarrassed that I had let myself get excited about this when I knew this was exactly how it was going to be.  I didn't need a brainless idiot only seeking a few bucks.  Anger swelled in my chest that David forced my hand in this.

I almost shut it down, but then I saw something different – someone different: India Mae.  My heart fluttered and my breathing increased.  She was gorgeous.  The first thing I noticed were her huge, brown eyes.  They were deep and somehow safe.  I knew I could lose myself in them forever, uncovering the world's lost secrets.  She had a video posted of her onstage at what looked like a piano recital.  She was extremely talented and obviously enjoyed music immensely.   You could see the passion exude from her as she played.  She was, in a word, stunning.  Seeing someone genuinely display parts of their personality, things she truly cared about, was a refreshing change from the dozens of profiles I had just scrolled through.

Her bio discussed her drive to finish her degree and her financial difficulties.  Education and music were important to me, as well.  I would be more than happy to help her pay for her degree.  I looked back to her profile picture, entranced by those guileless eyes once more.  Perhaps Rossi's plan wasn't so bad after all.  I hit the like button faster than a lightning strike.  I couldn't leave anything up to chance.  I wanted to message her as soon as possible.

"India, You've caught my eye.  You are absolutely stunning – I'm not convinced you're real.  I can tell this isn't usual for you, as it is not for me.  I'd love to hear more about your music tastes and how you got started playing the piano.  You are incredibly talented, by the way.  Your video took my breath away.

Briefly about me: I'm Emily.  I'm thirty-eight and I work for the FBI.  I went to Yale for undergrad and then studied psychological profiling.  I have demanding hours, which is why my friend basically forced me to do this.  If you can handle my work schedule, I'd be very interested in getting to know you more.

In my free time, I enjoy going to the symphony, reading, and drawing.  My favorite medium's charcoal, and when I have time off, I'm usually always covered in charcoal dust.  Ha.

India, I sincerely hope to hear from you.  I can already tell you're different than anyone else I would find on this site.

Sincerely, Emily"

Because she was young, I expected an immediate response, anticipating she'd always be on her computer or phone.  As the minutes ticked by, I grew impatient.  And then anxious.  And then embarrassed.  She was gorgeous, and young, and smart, and talented.  What the fuck would she want with me?  She was obviously ignoring me.  Maybe Rossi's plan was just as bad as I had originally thought.

Ding!  I laughed as I saw "India Mae messaged you" scroll across my screen.  I was utterly absurd.

"Emily, Thanks for reaching out.  I don't know if I would say I'm different from everyone else on this site, but you are right about this definitely being unusual for me.  And it sounds like we were both forced to join by overly meddlesome friends.  My best friend forced me to make this profile, basically under threat of death lol.  But it seems to be looking up 😌

Thank you for the sweet compliments.  I've been playing the piano as long as I can remember.  I always knew it would be something I'd want to pursue as a career.  Music is more than just a hobby to me.  I've been wanting to learn how to play the guitar, as well, but I guess I only really have time for one instrument right now.

Wow!  You sound very busy, indeed!  What exactly is psychological profiling?  And what do you like to draw?  Landscapes?  Portraits?  I'm hopeless as an artist.  Maybe you could give me a few pointers.

Thanks again for sending a message.  I hope we can get to know each other better too ☺️"

I was completely giddy.  It was a bit ridiculous how excited I was by each of her responses.  As we messaged back and forth, my interest in her only grew.  She was fascinating.  To hear her describe playing sounded like a holy experience to her.  I didn't feel that way about drawing, but perhaps I never allowed myself to lose myself in my art like that. 

The website was tedious and slow to use.  After about half an hour of IMing, I sent a message that said, "India, would it be too forward to ask for your phone number already? It would be easier for me to text…" and I listed my phone number.  I was pleased that I heard my phone vibrate against the coffee table nearly immediately

Unknown Number: Hi :) It's me. I actually go by Indi

I couldn't help but smile.  Of course she went by Indi.  It somehow suited her perfectly.  I quickly saved her number and texted her back.

Emily: Tell me more about you?

Indi: I'm not sure what you really want to know, but I grew up in a small town in Washington state. No siblings, and my parents died in a car wreck a few years ago. It's, ultimately, what helped me feel okay about going so far away for school. Washington to Washington (DC). It's been hard, so much change, but there was nothing left for me in Washington. And having my roommate has been amazing. She's one of the best people I know. She's one of those people that basically just embodies sunshine. I'd be lost without her. Anyway, when I'm not drowning in piano practice or waiting tables, I try to read as much as possible.

My heart ached to hear she had lost her parents, her entire support system, so early in life.  But I admired her all the more for making her way in life with very little.  This did satisfy my curiosity why her parents weren't helping her with school.  I tried to reign my privilege in – not everyone had parents that could help them with going to college.  Not everyone had a seemingly endless trust fund.  I was also concerned about her working.  I'd have to – delicately – ask if she would be willing to forego work during our arrangement.  That is, if she wanted to pursue an arrangement.   Don't put the cart before the horse, Em.

Indi: Your turn :)

Indi: Actually, hold that thought. I am exhausted. I had a rough day and I'd just like to go to sleep. I'm really glad you messaged me, Emily. Talk tomorrow?

Emily: Definitely. I'm sorry to hear you had a tough day. Sleep well, sweet girl

I wanted to add a kissy face but didn't because 1) I wasn't quite sure how, and 2) I thought it a bit much for the first night.  I laid down on my couch, clutching my phone, already a fool over this girl.  What had Rossi gotten me into?

_ _ _

Continue to next chapter

#tastes like sugar #🌬 fics #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss x india mae banks #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #wlw writing

[feralmoonlight]

Oh god I'm hooked even more djdjdj

That does bring into question Y/N's temperment which is very fun. And that what I'm curious about.

Yes- anxiety does fuck with people (speaking from experience 😭) my curiosity lies in how Y/N might not realize immediately the power going off since they are doing a commission. And I understand that you don't always have voice calls but if they do commercial commissions (as in characters for companies) they would have to have gone on zoom calls. My wonder is if it's first panic then into perfessional tone bc Y/N doesn't want to show fear in front of their new buddy??

Power going out during a commission session just gave me PTSD from my old laptop that's battery was nonexistent and that'd mean anything unsaved is just GONE. My miserable ass would be so pissed cause when I got into a real groove of working on things I would just... Realize I lost the WHOLE thing. And if I wanna make YN's life hell, THEY GET 'THE BRICK' to deal with. A glorified paperweight with a finicky power port and a battery that may as well not even be attached, probably duck taped in there just to pretend it isn't an actual piece of junk. As a stay at home hermit, the dark itself isn't so much of an inconvenience, and in fact keeping the lights off as much as possible in the house helps save on money so the darkness is like a warm friend. MMM But the idea of the zoom call, the panic as soon as the call is lost, realizing second that the work was lost, would have them frustrated as all fuck But ah, if the zoom wasn't on the computer itself, maybe running through their phone instead so there's this tiny screen of light illuminating the now dark room, panicking internally while trying to explain why the stream feed to the drawing went dead... And remembering that Sun doesn't like the dark for some reason. Reaching out to pat him on the shoulder maybe? Still talking down the now annoyed client, while you try and explain that...probably a few hours of work are now gone because YOU hadn't saved recently. WHY didn't you have an auto save function?? It causes lag every time it does, which makes you have to redo linework or take pauses constantly. Then why not manually save? It messes with your flow, and when you get really into working on something you just tunnel. Well it's very unprofessional, so those lost hours wont be paid for. Thats annoying but understandable you guess... as much as you don't want to agree with it at the moment theres something off. Sun's being particularly quiet, and you're getting concerned now that he's worse off than just scared of the dark. Another pat turns into rubbing his back to let him know you're still right behind him, cause he seems to like physical contact (even if you're not a huge fan yet) -- But he shifts away. THAT is strange. The call goes dark as the client closes their end leaving you in almost full blackness aside from an outside light that's still lit (on a different grid you guess) and this odd red glow that's reflecting two hazy dots back from where you know the TV screen is. The next voice you hear is definitely NOT Sun, and the anxiety and worry you were feeling for Sun has shifted int a more pure fear of the unknown. Something is very wrong as you can hear the 'bot shift and stand up to his full height, almost reaching the ceiling. The only reason you know this is his head has turned towards you, the barest outline lacking the sun rays, as two red beads stare down at where you're still curled, frozen on the couch like a deer in headlights. The thought to run floats through your mind but doesn't get farther than that. That stare has you pinned. Maybe if you don't move, he can't see you. You know... Like a T-Rex.

#Doordash AU #Im not actually sure if I answered that one right lol #au hoard

[crypticcodex]

Y’all ever just start getting a bunch of ideas for a thing, to the point where you’re excited to talk about it, but you don’t wanna start talking about it unless you know people are interested so you just kinda sit on it because you can’t currently make content for it?

#Listen I have a passion for AUs where it's a bunch of actors putting on the material we see #And now I have ideas TM for an AU like that for IDV #But I can't hook my computer up right now so I can't draw anything #So I'm just sitting with all these Thoughts TM about how everyone would be #Cuz I just love the idea of these nerds being a huge group of actors that somehow turns into found family #And god the PERSONALITY ideas I have #The thoughts in my head about how close or far away different people are naturally to their characters #I wanna SHARE #But I don't wanna start talking about it if no one will caaaaaaaaaare! #I also kinda feel bad about the possibility of putting a bunch of it in the IDV tag #Without any actual fan art content to look at #Text posts aren't as interesting you know? #It's more fun to SEE the silly bloopers and shit

[elizabeethan]

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 13 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Heyooo time for more smut! And more answers. And more cliffhangers.

Rated M

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~~~~

The destruction in the apartment is clear the moment she walks in, feeling Killian’s watchful eye leave her as she shuts the door. There’s broken glasses and plates on the floor, Neal having cleared off the counter in what she assumes is his anger. She can’t think of another reason for him to be so destructive, picture frames smashed in the living room and fluffy pillow feathers flying through the air, but she certainly allows her mind to wander. 

  What if he knows? They’ve been careful, but what if someone besides Rufio had seen them? 

  “Neal?” She asks tentatively, clutching the strap of her purse tightly. 

  She hears another crash from his bedroom in response to her voice and cringes. The door opens forcefully, slamming shut behind him as he storms into the living room to meet her. 

  “Where the fuck were you?” he asks threateningly. 

  “I was at the store,” she answers, her voice small and weak, although she thinks it unwise to make a show of strength. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” he spits. He fumes in anger again and picks up a vase that she had filled with flowers she bought herself, hurling it at the wall to her right and sending water and glass towards her. “Rufio is fucking dead , that’s what’s wrong!”

She pales immediately, realizing that he must know of their involvement in his death. There’s not much for her to say, unable to defend herself as she and Killian both know that their actions were wrong. She only wonders now if he also knows of the affair they’ve started. “Neal…” she croaks out in terror, unsure how to continue. 

  But to her surprise, he falls to his knees, his hands catching his head as he lets out a sob. “Who would do this?” he cries, sending her mind racing. “Who would kill my friend?”

  She shifts, the sudden realization striking that he isn’t angry at her, he simply finds it appropriate to take his anger out on her. She has to adjust now, unable to hold onto the fear of him discovering her dangerous secret and required to shift into her role as doting girlfriend. She has to keep up appearances, as much as it pains her to do so. 

  “Babe,” she says softly, “I’m so sorry.”

  Once she’s close enough to him, he grabs at her hand, pulling her roughly into his arms and squeezing her too tight. His actions are forceful, but not at all surprising. He holds onto her, sobbing into her hair and making her cringe as he cries for his loss. He says things like, how could someone do this to me, and it makes her realize that he isn’t sad about his friend’s death. He’s sad that someone has hurt him. He thinks this is personal. 

  While he cries, she looks around the apartment and wants to cry herself. He’s broken so many things, and even though almost none of it was hers, she still feels sadness in the wake of the destruction she sits in. When she looks to the bookshelf frightfully, she realizes she doesn’t see the one and only object that she covets as hers and lets a tear escape. 

  He’s angry. But he didn’t have to take his anger out on the one thing that he knows means something to her. 

  ~~~~

  “The Kings of Elsinore will pay for what they’ve done to us,” Peter says commandingly, his fist slamming against the table before him and making Emma startle. Many of the men around the table nod, grunting in agreement, including Killian. 

  He’s careful not to stare at her too much, although it’s difficult. Aside from his love for her and his disbelief at her beauty, it’s hard not to stare in an attempt to ensure that she’s alright. They haven’t been able to talk since she left this morning, but he doesn’t see any evidence that she’s been harmed. He knows that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been, though. 

  “The murder of Rufio was a heartless and psychotic act with the intention of hitting us where it hurts. Rufio was heir to one of our club’s founding members, and his death will not go unpunished.”

  Killian shudders in his seat, the action making Rob turn to look at him and cock his head. He’s sure Peter means it, and he’s sure Killian’s punishment will be worse than anything he doles out to the Kings if he finds out. 

  He can’t find out, though. Because if he does, he could find out why it happened, and he can’t risk Emma’s safety like that. 

  “We’re going to hit back, which is why Miss Swan is here today,” he continues. His words draw Emma’s attention up from her hands as her big eyes stare at Peter. “It has become imperative that you identify something we can use against the Kings. Any help you need, you’ll have. Hook,” he calls, shifting his focus.

  “Aye?” 

  “Continue to assist Miss Swan in her search. Remove the security features if you have to.” 

  “If it’s alright,” Robin starts, causing Killian’s eyes to grow twice their size, “I’d like to help as well. I believe my tracking skills may be useful in helping Miss Swan decide where to look.” 

  “Fine,” Peter agrees, waving him off. “As for the rest of you, prepare for a battle. If it’s a fight they want, then a fight they shall have.” 

  ~~~~

  She drops into the too-firm chair and it squeaks under her weight, a groan escaping her lips as she jimmies the mouse of her computer. He can’t help the small smile that pulls at one corner of his mouth, her dramatic entrance bringing him joy despite the stress they're all under. 

  No one says anything at first; it’s awkward with Rob being here despite him being one of Killian’s closest friends. Even though he trusts him with his life, he isn’t sure he’s ready to hear the truth of their relationship after how many times he insisted that Killian avoid this. 

  Once her computer boots up, she straightens and he takes a seat in his usual spot, gesturing to another folding chair across the room in an invitation for Rob to sit. “Want me to remove the securities, love?” 

  “No, I don’t want you to remove the securities ,” she responds in a mocking tone, mimicking his accent as she rolls her eyes. “I’m not a damn child; I know how to take off parental controls.” 

  Killian raises his brows, looking at her in surprise, and asks, “then why haven’t you?” 

  “Because I’m also not an idiot,” she responds, glaring at him before turning back to the aged screen. “I’m not stupid enough to try and go against Peter’s rules.” 

  He gives her a small smile, one that he can’t seem to give to anyone else, and can't seem to help giving her, and nods. “That’s right,” he agrees softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. He almost forgets his place, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and plant a kiss on her beautiful-- if not thoroughly chewed up-- lips. It’s obvious enough that something’s irritated her, and he wants to get to the bottom of it and console her so that the light comes back into her eyes. He’s greedy like that, he supposes. 

  “I bloody knew it,” he hears, Rob’s grumbling voice yanking him violently from his thoughts and his desires. 

  Killian turns quickly, as does Emma, both of them staring at Robin in surprise, as if they forgot about their audience. 

  “You’re fucking her,” he accuses, nodding and tightening his jaw. “Killian, mate, how many times have we talked about this--” 

  “Rob,” he starts hurriedly as he stands, his hands held out in a plea. Without words, only his eyes communicating to his friend, he begs for forgiveness and discretion and kindness. “Mate…” 

  He can’t even look at Emma yet because he knows that the look on her face will break him. He knows that she must be gnawing at her lip, her brows high on her forehead and her eyes desperate and terrified. “I’m not going to say anything,” Rob finally says, his eyes meeting Emma’s rather than Killians, confirming his hunch. “You two have royally fucked up, but your secret’s safe with me.” 

  He hears her sigh and worries that she could be crying, so he turns to her. He’s met with her dropping her head into her hands in relief, and he hurries to squat in front of her, taking her hands in his. “It’s alright,” he whispers, running his thumbs over her knuckles. Her dim, glassy eyes meet his and she shakes her head. 

  “We can’t-- he knew after two minutes. We have to go,” she murmurs softly, but he sees something shift in her. She sits up slightly straighter and gazes into his eyes seriously. “Can we trust him?” 

  “Yes,” he confirms while he squeezes her hands. He knows they can, but he turns back to look at Rob anyway. 

  “You can trust me, lass,” he vows, understanding as Killian begs him to. “I swear I won’t say a thing, but you’re playing a dangerous game. What’s the plan here?”

  “We’re leaving,” Killian answers simply. “As soon as possible. We would have tonight, but Neal came back early.”

  “He didn’t come back early, you dolt. They never left.”

  He pales, his face falling, and he feels Emma's squeezing his hand. She must be thinking exactly what he is. They had both assumed that Peter and Neal somehow heard about Rufio and had returned, but the fact that they hadn’t even left is somehow more concerning. 

  “How… how did they find out?”

  Rob snorts, shaking his head. “Right, you were too busy to-- hang on. Killian… tell me you didn’t--”

  “Rob--”

  “You didn’t. ” His face falls pale as well, the look he gives his friend chilling. Killian can feel the disappointment and terror radiating off of his oldest friend easily, and it does nothing to quell his nerves. “Killian, tell me right now that you didn’t kill him.” 

  “I had to,” he whispers, shaking his head in self hatred. “He attacked her. Said he would-- he said--”

  “ Fuck, he caught you, didn’t he?”

  “Robin,” Emma interrupts, trying to stop the two of them from going at it and speaking too loudly. They’re bound to tip someone off if they keep this up. “What Killian did… He knows it was wrong, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Rufio attacked me. He was protecting me, and now… I have to protect him. We have to get out of here, because if they find out that Killian shot Rufio, he’ll be worse off than your friend, Liam.”

  Rob is quiet for a moment, allowing Killian to absorb her words. She’s right, of course. They’ll deliver him a fate much worse than that of his brother if they find out. 

  “Too right, love,” Rob agrees finally, nodding and running his hands over his face. “I’ll help you however I can, so long as the two of you take me as well.”

  “Of course, brother. I’d hoped to grab Tink and Elsa as well.”

  He and Emma hadn’t spoken of his previous dalliances, and he only hopes that his intention to bring Tink along with them doesn’t offend her. It’s not as if he plans on staying with her long, but she deserves to get out just as much as they do. 

  “Only because of Liam, and Tink is--”

  “It’s okay,” she cuts him off with a smile, her hand squeezing his. “Of course we’ll bring them.”

  He can hardly take the amount of love he has for her, her unequivocal understanding of every piece of him hard to wrap his mind around. He gives her a genuine smile, and her gaze meets his, giving him the beaming sunlight in her eyes of which he’ll never tire. 

  ~~~~

  The service they hold at the Rabbit Hole is only slightly deranged. The message is clear enough: Rufio’s loss of life is seen as a personal attack against the club. His death is not sad because his life ended, it’s sad because the club is suffering. 

  It’s nauseating. 

  The only thing that keeps her head on straight is Killian, the gentle looks he shoots her from across the bar where he sits with Rob shooting warmth through her heart and to the pit of her stomach. His presence is so soothing, so grounding. It makes her feel steady and strong to be with him, to even be near him. 

  Each time she catches him glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, she feels her heart rate picking up. He drives her mad, she’s discovered. They’ve only just begun their relationship with one another, but it feels stronger than any she’s ever been in if only based on the physical connection they have with one another. She’s never felt this way about anyone before. She’s been with men before, men before Neal, but it was always transactional and cold. It was fine, but it wasn’t great. With Killian, it’s mind numbing. 

  He reads her effortlessly and flawlessly. He knows exactly what she needs when she needs it. He’s known exactly how to bring her over the edge each time, and she can only foresee their sex life getting better as they grow closer and closer. She can’t wait to grow closer to him. 

  The overwhelming feelings of disgust and discomfort are washed away easily each time he stares at her and are replaced by a feeling of undeniable need. The pressure builds where she needs him the most, arousal washing over her and through her until she can barely stand it, and the feeling of Neal’s hand landing on her shoulder makes her jump. “Want a drink, babe?” he asks, as if completely forgetting the conversation they had last night. He hasn’t even bothered to ask her of the results of her tests yet. 

  “I’m actually gonna just run to the bathroom,” she says with a smile. “Not feeling great, I’ll be back.” 

  She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she stands and heads towards the bathroom, relying on the dank darkness and the slowly dripping faucet to distract from the overwhelming moodiness of the bar and her overwhelming arousal at the thought of Killian’s hands on her. 

  She focuses on her breathing for a moment, hoping to slow things down around her and calm her racing pulse. The sense of peace is short lived; the door opens slowly, making her heart rate pick up. But when she sees him, she relaxes easily, a smile creeping onto her face. “You need to be careful,” she insists quietly, although she can’t help but giggle as he locks the door and pounces on her. 

  He lifts her onto the counter and his lips are on hers instantly, his hands gripping her ass and pulling her towards him. Her legs wrap around his and her arms grab for his shoulders, her nails digging into the rough fabric of his button down shirt. 

  With his mouth trailing hot kisses along her flesh, his teeth scraping against her neck, he finds his way to her collarbone and murmurs, “I couldn’t stand being away from you a moment longer.” 

  She gasps in surprise at his words, a wave of arousal rushing through her and landing in her core, twisting her and encouraging her to tighten her legs around him in search of friction and pressure. “Fuck,” she whispers as his hands and lips move the cup of her bra to the side. 

  “Do you want this?” he asks, seeking consent before latching his lips to her hardened nipple. She nods fiercely. “ Gods , how I crave you.”

  “Killian,” she breathes, “touch me.” 

  His mouth devours hers again, his hand sliding down the front of her and finding the waist of her jeans. He tugs, drawing her closer to him and, without breaking their lips apart, snaps her button undone and slides her zipper down quickly. 

  “Are you wet already, Emma?” he asks roughly, his fingers sliding over the cotton that’s already nearly soaked through. He growls. “You are; that’s a good girl.”

  “Yours,” she mumbles, her arousal taking over and her mind barely able to keep up with what her mouth says. 

  “Aye, mine,” he agrees, nipping at her bottom lip. He pushes her garment aside and slips his fingers through her folds, groaning when he finds her sodden for him. “So responsive,” he praises. “So perfect for me.”

  With a moan as his mouth presses to the sensitive skin under her earlobe, she nods again, wanting to reinforce to him that she’s his . Only his. Simply, she tells him, “I love you.”

  His fingers glide over her clit, pinching quickly and dragging a whimper from her throat. “I love you so much I can scarcely breathe,” he whispers. “I can’t stand to be away from you.”

  “Then don’t make me wait,” she begs in a whisper herself. 

  He moves his hand away from where she craves him and quickly moves his own jeans, and Emma wriggles until her pants are falling around her knees. “We’ll leave tomorrow,” he vows, smoothing his weeping cock along her clit as she wrestles with the condom wrapper. When she finally has it open, she places it over his tip and slides her fist down to the base. 

  “Where will we go?” 

  She gasps when one finger slips into her followed closely by a second, curling against her expertly and sending her searching for his mouth with hers. He swallows her cries when his thumb gently presses against her clit. 

  “Your heart’s desire, Swan,” he says, lining his cock up to her waiting entrance. “I promise, that’s all I want you to have.” 

  Their foreheads press together, their noses too, and she bites her lip as he pushes inside. She clings to him, her fingers gripping the back of his shoulders, her heels digging into his backside, her core squeezing around his cock. After a few perfectly timed, perfectly angled thrusts, she whispers, “I just want you.”

  He holds her so close to him as one hand grabs onto her ass and the other holds her jaw and neck. His thrusts are quick, but deep and effective, striking her exactly where she needs him. He groans when she clenches around his cock again. 

  His hand slips around from her back so that his fingers can dance over her clit with each thrust. Emma moves her hands up to the back of his neck, gripping his hair and begging him for more in each moan against his mouth. It’s not long before he has her a writhing mess in his arms, pleading for release. 

  “Come on, angel,” he encourages gently but firmly as he gives her another flawless thrust. “Nice and tight for me, aren’t you? I know you’re ready, love. Come for me.”

  His voice is tenacious, but still so tender, so caring in the way that he loves her. She’s never felt so loved and safe while being spoken to in such a dominating tone, and she loves it. She loves the freedom that comes with being commanded and feeling safe at the same time. She never knew the two could coexist. 

  At his behest, she clenches once more and cries out his name, his mouth muffling the sound as he spills into her. They hold each other firmly, panting as they ride out their highs together, although they’ll never be sated. They’ll never have enough of each other, always craving more. 

  “Bloody hell, I love you,” he says when they catch their breath. 

  She hums happily, if only because she’s still panting too hard to speak. She kisses his neck, her lips lingering on his soft, sweat coated skin. “I love you,” she whispers. Then, because telling him once will never be enough, she moves so that her tongue traces his earlobe and repeats, “I love you.”

  He moves her hair out of her face when she pulls away slightly, then presses a kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry to come in here so… rudely,” he laughs. “But I--”

  “I’m glad you did,” she smiles. She winces slightly as he pulls out, stepping away to dispose of the condom and exposing his bare ass to her, tempting her to pull him back to her. “Are we really gonna be able to go tomorrow?”

  “Aye,” he smiles and returns to her to kiss her once more. “I just need to tell Tink and Elsa. We’re to meet by the docks; Robin knows already.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “Somewhere quiet,” he answers, “hidden away, unsuspecting… but it must be by the beach, aye?”

  “Aye,” she giggles and he straightens her shirt with a smile. “And?”

  “Nantucket.”

  “Nantucket?”

  “Mmm,” he hums as he helps her off of the counter so that she can fix her pants. “Quiet, secluded island, enough tourists to help us blend in. Plus, infamously beautiful beaches for an infamously beautiful woman.”

  She wraps her arms around his neck, pushing onto her toes and kissing him. “Sounds perfect.” 

  “Emma…” he starts, and she can sense the shift between them. He’s thinking, his self-anger and self-hatred sneaking through the joy he felt moments ago. “If it weren’t for what I did--”

  “Please,” she whispers. “You know that I love you. The fact that you killed Rufio doesn’t change that. I know you regret it, but if you need forgiveness, you have it.”

  He leans against her heavily, forehead to hers again, and nods. “I do regret it. But I know it had to be done.”

  “Exactly. And where will I meet you?”

  “I’ll find you, my love. The less you know, the safer you’ll be with Neal. Robin knows the plan, though.” She nods against him now. “You’ll be alright,” he whispers, and she almost wonders who he’s promising. 

  “I know; I trust you.”

  ~~~~

  A knock sounds against a heavy door. It’s pushed open slowly, and behind it stands a young and conflicted soul, trying to make the best decision for her family. The things she overheard as she stood outside of the women’s restroom serve to threaten the family she has found, and she cannot let that stand. 

  “Enter,” commands a strong and powerful voice, the man looking up from his ledgers and giving the woman a pensive look. “Elsa, to what do I owe this pleasure?” 

  “Peter,” she answers, moving towards the chair across from him. “I’m afraid I have some… troubling news.”

  The man hums, leaning forward and pressing his arms to the desk. “And what is that, my dear?”

  The woman takes a deep breath, sadly shaking her head at the truth she’s uncovered. She didn’t think her friend Killian capable of such a thing, but discovering that he’s murdered a member of the club has stunned her. “It’s Rufio,” she says wistfully. “I found out who killed him.”

  “That’s very interesting indeed,” the man agrees. “Are you implying that it wasn’t a member of the Kings of Elsinore who murdered a member of our family?”

  “Yes,” she nods with a deep sigh. “But it pains me to put the truth to words.”

  “Elsa,” he starts again, leaning back in his chair authoritatively. “If you know something, you must tell me. How can we protect you if you don’t protect us in return?”

  “Of course. After what happened to Liam, of course I want to protect the club.”

  The man nods in sad agreement. “Yes, his death was a tragedy, but the club has been keeping you safe ever since.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Go on, then,” he gestures towards her. “Whatever you’ve discovered, you must remember that the club’s interests as a whole must come above those of one.” 

  The woman nods once more and takes a deep breath in, feeling the cool air hit her lungs. “It was Killian,” she whispers. “Killian killed Rufio.”

~~~~

~~~~

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#Watch the Sunlight Fade #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #sunlight ff #captain swan au #modern au #captain swan smut #cs smut #captain swan angst #cs angst #captain swan fluff #cs fluff #ouat fanfic #ouat ff #once upon a time #once upon a time fanfic #captain swan

[cosmicbash]

Would you maybe write something about a scenario where Em and Colson are hate fucking and Em never spends the night, but on a particular occasion, Colson is super sad/stressed and (while trying desperately to hide it) starts crying from the idea of Em leaving, so he stays and is really sweet? (Also, sorry if I went this twice–my computer's being really weird and I can't tell if it did it already!)

This isn't perfect but!! Everybody is on an angst kick and I wanted to join in so I'm using this ask 😤😤

They aren't dating.

Marshall's cock is drilling in and out of Colson's ass but that doesn't mean they're together.

It wasn't supposed to escalate to this. He's not supposed to be manhandling a stupidly long leg up in the air or swatting away the other man's helpful hands while he switches their position for the 3rd time. Hips never stopping their rapid punching forward to draw out more and more curses.

Paul wanted them to mend their beef. Come to a mutual ground of disdain at the minimum. Not bash heads together so many times over their short meeting they end up in bed together instead. Teeth and fists completely changing their plan of attack.

"F-fuck! Right there-" Marshall's definitely not supposed to be watching this annoying twink throw his long neck back and whine. Colorful arms stretching up above him to uselessly grapple onto the pillow behind his own head. "Please!"

This wasn't supposed to be the 10th or 12th time they did this.

"Shut up-" his voice is scratchy when it should be calm. "The whole floor is gonna hear you-" Paul thinks they're here mending bridges and discussing a feature.

"Then fuck me right-" Colson's voice is just as rough sounding. Marshall hates that he knows the difference between the twink's usual tone and this ruined one. How it will only get this way after he's forced his cock down the brat's throat one too many times in their foreplay. "L-learn- ah- where to stick it without directions dude!"

"Shut up." He's bruising Colson's thighs now. The dark red indents from his fingers are going to turn purple by the morning. Not that he's ever seen them do it in person at least, but the blonde never fails to send a picture over text every morning after. "Maybe if you tightened your pussy up we'd both have more fun."

Colson's chest is arching from his harder thrusts now. Voice climbing a little higher almost mockingly with each moan as he slams to the hilt.

Marshall wants to kiss him. Smother that annoyingly pretty mouth with his lips but it's not possible. Not in this position where the other man's unnecessarily large stature puts him so out of reach.

That's a good thing though, because they really don't need to be kissing. A few heated pecks here and there to get the blood pumping is one thing, making out while he fucks the blonde speechless almost feels too intimate to consider.

Theres no space for that in these brief hook ups from hotel room to hotel room, not when they still hate eachother too much for any of the burning heat they have between them to simmer down into a comfortable warmth.

"Stupid whore." His lips are pulling back in almost a snarl this time when he forces Colson over onto his stomach instead. Cock slipping free and almost losing the condom he's got slipped over it from just how quickly he pulls out. Like Colson's hole is challenging his accusation of looseness. "Fuck-" he just wants to smother the brats face down into the pillows. He tells himself his anger isn't from not being able to reach.

An impatient yank and the condoms tearing. Leaving Marshall all but ready to go put his clothes back on and storm out. There's a nasty swirl of emotions going on inside his stomach that he really doesn't want to risk bursting while they find and put on a replacement.

"W-what're you waiting for?" Colson's back is arching, and that pale mop he calls hair is lifting up to look back. So needy he can't even pause for one minute.

"Fucking condom broke- just, shit, just give me a minute-" Marshall doesn't even know where to look, not with all the blood pooling in his cock and his focus begging to be set on his rivals waiting body.

Colson put the thing on him, he can remember that much, one of those prissy little manicured nails probably scratching the elastic as he did it. He's sure he must have one in his wallet but that's across the room in his sweats, by the bathroom door. Where Colson's impatience about even waiting to let him finish his piss and get undressed had left him falling back into the door.

If he has to walk all the way over there to get it he might as well just go home.

"Forget it. I'm done." They shouldn't be fucking like this anyway. It's a major mistake.

"What?" Colson's fingers curling around his wrist is a new sensation. The wide look to his half hidden eyes punching something deep within Marshall's stomach. "We haven't even come yet-" there's a hint of hysteria in the blonde's tone and smile. "If it's because of what I said then- t-then I'll bite the fucking pillow or something alright? Don't be so dramatic dude-"

"I don't have another condom-" It's a weak excuse, they both know Colson evidently has some somewhere in the room of his own. But Marshall needs to take this brief chance to get out now before he loses it. The longer Colson stares at him the more nauseous that feeling bubbling up has him.

"...Forget it then-" the blonde's finally looking away, almost convincing Marshall that he's also second guessing this sex. But those long delicate fingers are still clutching onto his wrist and there's a palpable silence cutting through the air so thick he feels like he might choke before Colson's baby blues are meeting his head on once again. The shimmer of anxiety impossible to hide between long bangs. "Just do it raw. I-I'm clean and I- you- fuck," there's shame mixing in the look now, the grip the blonde has doubling down when Marshall reflexively tries to pull back. "Don't…."

Go. Don't go. Colson isn't saying it but Marshall can hear the word clear as day between them.

It's about the sex. He isn't satisifed yet. If Colson had cum already the bastard wouldn't be hesitating to kick him out. That's what Marshall's mind screams to reassure himself but there's still a hollow place in his stomach where he feels gutted by the look.

"...f-Fine." He tries to justify staying by remembering how annoying and painful blueballs can be. "But don't fucking text me tomorrow whining how my jizz is still leaking out of your ass."

His free hand settling back down on Colson's hip finally snaps whatever weird fog has blanketed the room. A forced sounding snicker muffling itself against the pillows while Colson's legs readjust to raise his ass. "If you can even get back inside without nutting old man-"

This kind of banter is more comfortable.

"Keep talking, I'm gonna fuck you until you're crying for me to finally finish."

"You wish." Colson's voice is still muffled but the slight challenging swing of his hips says more than enough.

Marshall's fingers instantly find their previous spot, each digit mirroring the small red dots on the opposite side of the younger rapper's skin. 

The lubes still nearby on the bed luckily, allowing him to be quick as he reslicks his achingly hard cock and squirts an extra dollop directly on his partner's hole for good measure. As much as he loves hurting the punk doing so in this way would only cause them both more trouble.

"F-fuck-" Of course Colson's as tight as a vice when he finally tries to push inside. The tight ring of muscle rejecting his entry just as vehemently as he's sure the boy's heart would. They can't do anything pain free, like the world is punishing them for continuing their facade. "Relax-" 

"Thought you said I was too loose?" Marshall can practically hear that smug little smirk Colson's sporting.

Defiantly his hips jerk forward a bit harder, until the blonde actually does cry out and his legs spread the tiniest bit wider. The tight clench Colson has evidently been giving his hole relaxing instantly to let him breach. A string of curses and clawing hands keeping Marshall from fully basking in the incomparable tight heat slowly engulfing his cock.

Even with a pillow clutched close against his face Colson is loud. Each noise climbing alongside his pace as he starts properly fucking his rival yet again. Until they're almost back up at full throttle and Colson's mesmerizing back is arching, a large hand jerking up to plant itself flat against the headboard. "Fuck, fuck, please, just like that Marsh, god- baby d-don't stop-"

The slip of a nickname doesn't escape Marshall's notice, he's just too focused on chasing down his own pleasure to properly care. Once they're done he'll mention it. Or maybe even just wait until tomorrow to text the brat a reminder, but for right now he keeps pumping his hips. Heart warming uncontrollably at the mere joke of being someone Colson can call baby.

Reflexively his palm claps down hard on the other man's ass, too sharply and sudden to do anything but sting. "Ah, f-fuck!" He's taking his anger at his own feelings out on Colson and it's not fair but he can't help himself.

The red imprint of his hand glares back in his vision long after a kinky smack should have faded and just the sight of it sticking around gets Marshall's pace growing a little erratic. He wants to tear the blonde apart, shred every bit of his being to pieces and then sew it all back together to see the taint his touch has created visualized as hundreds of scars. He wants to sully the blinding beauty he sees everytime they meet and everytime he glimpses back at the bed before he leaves. Just ruin Colson completely so that there's no other choice but him in the whole world for the blonde to turn to.

But he's not falling in love.

That would mean he's stupid enough to fall for someone who could never settle for him. That he's actively continuing to come back and push the bar with every hookup just to see when enough is enough and he'll finally be left on the otherside of the hotel room door. Or the one waking up alone in bed the morning after.

Marshall wouldn't.

"S-shit wait- I-" Colson's hips are stuttering back to meet his, the hand he's still got hugging the pillow abandoning it in favor of stuffing down between his legs. It's obvious the blonde's close. Marshall can feel it in the tight grip around his cock and hear it in that shaky voice. It's not until he doubles down to fuck the younger rapper hard enough to knock his slender body inch by inch further up the bed that Marshall realizes he's trying to hold out. "N-not yet, ah, fuck, s-slow down-"

"No-" he's close himself, chest heaving and balls tightening as it is. There's no way he's letting Colson try to change the pace now. "Save, fuck, save that edging shit for after I leave-" he's lashing out for control again but can't stop himself.

This time instead of pinching pale skin Marshall slides his fingers up into sweaty blonde hair. Yanking back until he's got the man's back arched perfectly and his mouth can seal in a bite to one pointy shoulderblade. Fingers snaking around to hold Colson up there by his throat. "Fucking take it like a good whore and come Kelly." 

In this position he feels unbelievably deeper and there's nothing to block out the blonde's gasps and cries.

Nails scratch quickly along his thigh but Marshall ignores them to keep rolling his hips. The need to make Colson finish first fueling his free hand to climb up to knock away the punks own. Quickly jerking up and down over the soaked cock the other man was trying so hard to squeeze and restrict.

"N-no, no, fuck, Marshall-" a hand's curling around the back of his head to pull him close despite Colson's protests. Every atom in the other males body seeming to reach out and beg and plead for him to come closer, to fuck him harder until they split through the magnetic field and combine into one. Marshall wants to kiss him again. Hates how he can't even see the brats mouth over his shoulder from his current position. His fingers fly faster and hips roll up firmer in retaliation. "F-fuck-" 

There's a wet sob breaking the moans in the air, piercing straight through his chest like a bullet while Colson's hips stutter back and hot release paints across his fingers. Sending him right over the edge himself. Body forcing them both forward so he can hump and grind his pelvis against Colson's ass down to the bone while he pumps and fills the twink up with his own release. The hands around his neck and cock turning into strong arms around the blonde's chest and waist like a hug.

It's the closest thing to a cuddle Marshall will allow himself. That he can't actually prevent his orgasming body from resisting.

There's so much comfort and begging from his body to stay like that, for Colson to never leave him in those moments that the rapper can't help but tear up a little himself.

But just as quickly as its come sensibility returns and with it the guilt and shame. Scaring his arms free and his body away from Colson's usually still trembling form.

"Wait-" fingers are grabbing his wrist again, weaker this time.

Marshall's still buried to the hilt, even though his chest has unstuck itself from Colson's museum print of a back tatt. Sorry is dancing on the tip of his tongue. Like it always does. Always too graceful to ever trip up and spit out though before he finally leaves.

"A-again." Colson's face is still buried in the pillow, eyes and nose planted firmly down while his chins pulled up.

"What?" A second round isn't completely crazy for them, sometimes when the anger is hot enough its even necessary but not tonight. Marshall shouldn't even be humoring the request, not with how fragile his emotions feel, but Colson's hand refuses to let go.

"Fuck me. Please. Just-" Now with his head clearing the rapper can finally notice how Colson's shoulders are turning inwards, how the tone of his voice carries a shake. "Do whatever. I-I dont care. Just don't- fuck, d-don't-"

Go.

Leave. He has to leave. 

"Colson?" The name feels strange in Marshall's mouth from all the "kelly"'s "brats" and other derogatory words he usually uses in it's place.

Wet baby blues peering back all but pin him in place whether he wants to leave or not. Their message clear.

"Please." A single word and it's as effective as a sledgehammer around his heart.

"I-" Can't. Shouldn't. "I'm not hard anymore."

On a normal night that kind of obvious embarrassed blurt of an answer would get the kid smiling, one of those rare soft warm looks where his crows feet and gums showed, that scorched Marshall's skin from how brightly it radiated affection. Each chuckle or snort following just another stone slamming hard against his heart.

Tonight Colson doesn't smile. Instead of crinkling at the corner to flash the only hint at Colson's slow aging those lashes drop just low enough to bubble up the small collection of tears already present. His pretty but thin lips quivering up and down to fight back a frown. 

A year ago this exact look was the center of so many fantasies. He had wanted nothing more than to see the blonde crumble and break apart in front of him like a pathetic mess.

Right now instead of satisfaction all Marshall's body feels is hollow. Like his heart has finally abandoned his chest and surrendered itself to the hopefully quick acting acids of his stomach. The rapper doesn't think he can possibly feel worse but then Colson's arching his body away from him. Slipping his soft cock free of that lingering tight heat and stealing away any trace of faux comfort he feels with every centimeter of separating skin.

"I'll take care of it-" Colson's voice is hoarse, like hes fighting down the threat of a sob while his body twists onto its side. The sluggish lift of a hand back towards his cock piercing through him like a killing blow.

"No." Now his throat feels tight too. Shame and guilt pouring down his spine at the thought of Colson pushing through his obvious pain and turmoil to jerk his cock back to life just so he stays a few moments longer.

"Please-" Baby blue eyes are shining at Marshall again. The fast slip of a tear down one flushed cheek only making his fingers dig harder into younger male's wrist. "Marshall-"

He can't do this.

"No-"

"Yes!" Colson's scream pierces the silence so suddenly he thinks his wars might be ringing. But the pure desperation painted in angry eyes keeps Marshall's own from flinching all the way closed. "I'll fucking find you viagra or- or suck your dick until my jaws sore-" now Colson's own fingers are cutting back, prying at the preventative grip he's got on the blonde's hand like a caged animal might. "I don't care what- just- you- you aren't- you can't-"

It hurts, and with the way Colson's legs are twitching beneath him Marshall knows a kick or knee to his gut might come next. None of it compares to how badly his throat tears when he speaks though. "I'm not fucking you!" Somehow he manages to put every ounce of finality in his voice that he intends. Freezing Colson's grappling and rambling in an instant.

The ensuing silence feels deafening. 

Colson's still staring at him. Pain and anger warring across his face in small twitches and ticks. Marshall's mouth just repeats itself. Quieter this time. The heave if his lungs breaking up his words in tight exhales. "I'm not….I….I'm not going to fuck you."

There's a million more words tangling on his tongue. The order jumbling and backing them up like a traffic jam until he feels like he can't even breathe anymore.

I want to stay. I'm sorry. Dont do this to yourself. Please. Don't cry. Colson-

"I'm sorry." Colson cracks first. Expression screwing up and the floodgates behind his eyes opening as he sobs. "I'm so fucking sorry Marshall-"

This time he doesn't resist that ache to kiss the blonde. 

It's messy and Colson's mouth tastes like snot and tears already but Marshall presses closer anywhere. Cradling the younger rapper's skull with his free hand so tightly he knows he has to be pulling out hair. The wrist he'd snatched pinned between their bodies in a way that makes his own ache. But he ignores all of that and kisses Colson harder. Smacking their lips and teeth against one another in hopes the words trapped in his throat might pour their way out and into Colson's. Down the blonde's own throat to reach his heart.

He kisses Colson until he can't physically do it any longer. The sharp sting of oxygen deprivation jolting through his brain and colored spots dancing behind his closed eyes before their lips finally part. 

Marshall wants to press so close he sinks down into Colson's bones. Join in with his marrow and spend the rest of his life repairing every broken piece of the beautiful man's soul from the inside out.

That's not possible though so he settles for pulling Colson close. Enveloping him in his arms the same way he wishes he had a dozen times over. Stabilizing him through every shuddering sob and heartbreaking tremble.

He's not falling in love.

"I got you."

He'd already crash landed there long ago. 

#emgk #asks #i love asks #im so fucking stuck with writers block #hopefully posting this helps

[existentialstatesofmind]

Weekend Fun

Clare: giggled. "Yeah well it's tiresome having people think of you as a saint." Of course Clare was a little scared she was going to get kicked out anyway because of her parents. Even though Christians were supposed to accept everyone, it didn't take much for some of them to turn their back on you. Back when the group called themselves Friendship Club, they had tried to take Darcy's purity ring away because people got the wrong idea when she'd been raped. Clare smiled and nodded. "Good to know. My family used to go church together at least two or three times a week but we've been missing services lately." Part of her wondered if God was mad at them. Her smile widened when Dakota told her a secret in return. She reached for his hand and gently squeezed it. "Ignore them." Clare murmured when his brothers seemed to find it hilarious that he was blushing without even knowing the reason. "You do know that's nothing to be ashamed of right? Please don't be one of those guys who wants to get a girlfriend just so he can have sex. I think you're better than that." She whispered. As Clare said it, she realized she really meant it. Dakota had girls throwing themselves at him all the time. If he was desperate to lose his virginity, he would've already hooked up with one of them. "I'm glad her mom was brave enough to help them get out of that situation. But even if they are safe now, what's going to happen when her dad comes back?" Clare asked soberly. No wonder Dakota's friend had been clingy, it didn't sound like she had anyone else to rely on or comfort her. Home was the one place were you were always supposed to feel loved and cared for. "You'll have to teach me if we have to clean. Even my mom doesn't do that thorough of a job. I just clean my room and help vacuum, mop, and dust. She does the rest." Clare turned red. "That isn't going to help me! Even they had different birthmarks, I wouldn't be pulling down their pants to check." She squeaked. Clare had already ruled out Dakota having more muscles as a telltale because she wasn't about to ask if she could feel his abs whenever she wanted to make sure he was the twin she was talking to. She laughed as Stacy explained about the video. "Oh wow, that is really cool! I haven't been swimming in awhile because it's still freezing outside." Clare pointed out. Her bikini tops didn't fit anymore either. She followed everyone into the kitchen once Dakota set the pizza on the table. Her stomach growled as the delicious smell wafted through the air. "Okay." Clare sat down and told Dakota which soda she wanted. She smiled at Dallas and Dakota. "Yeah, I think it's great." Clare bowed her head and put her hands together, saying the prayer along with everyone else. Once she had a couple of slices of the hot pizza on her plate, Clare immediately started eating it. "Mmm." She hummed appreciatively.

Kota: listened to Clare talk about home and church, he didn't say anything because they were in front of his family and he didn't know if Clare wanted them to know about her situation. He nodded when she told him to ignore them and listened to her whisper. "I know there's not. Ash and Dom are virgins too. Dallas isn't." he whispered honestly. "We just don't like everyone to know." he assured. Hearing Clare mention their dad coming back, he smiled at her. "He'll be gone for a year, when he does come back it'll be for the summer, she'll be here and sticking to me like glue because of the guys and her sister will be at her friend's for the summer." he explained. "After that he goes back and he already knows if he comes here I'll beat the crap out of him because I almost did. He tried to slap me and I caught his hand, then flipped him onto his back with my foot on his throat telling him not to mess with a black belt. he left after that." he explained. "I'll help you." he said honestly and laughed when she mentioned their birthmarks and pulling down their pants. "Sorry, it was a bit funny the way you said it." he apologized and listened as she mentioned not swimming in his while. "We went swimming on Christmas. Our pool and porch are both heated so we can go whenever we want. Emi, however is afraid of water so we're bringing her to the public pool in the summer." he explained. As they started to eat, he sat down and smiled as everyone conversed and looked over to Clare. "I'm glad you like it. This was supposed to be dinner." he admitted with a slight laugh. After they finished he watched Emi run and carry out his guitar. "May, May." she said handing it to him. "Stacy, join?" he asked taking it off her. He put the guitar strap around his neck and took a chair with him as Stacy did the same and everyone gathered on the couch and love seat. "Whole song?" Stacy asked. "No, not suited for Emi. It's too depressing." he said and started to strum a fast beat. "And s the sun went down we ended up on the ground. I heard the train shake the window you screamed over the sound, as we owned this night I put your body to the test with mine. This love was out of control 3, 2, 1.. where did it go." he sang and strummed slower. "And she said." he sang. "If you were me you'd do the same. I can't take it anymore, I'll draw the sades and close the door, everything's not alright and I would rather..." Stacy sang and Kota strummed for a few moments picking up the beat. "And as the sun went down we ended up on the ground. I heard the train shake the window, you screamed over the sound and as we owned this night I put your body to the test with mine. Our love was out of control, tell me where did you go." he sang as he strummed and soon stopped. "I was forced to take an elective in middle school and I was sick when we were picking them so the school automatically chose mine. Obviously I took guitar for the entire year. My mom walked in on me one night strumming on a guitar one night that I borrowed from school and heard me singing and immediately enrolled me in voice lessons saying there needed to be a singer in the family and since she wanted us to be talented in multiple things to make it easier to decide what we want to be when we grow up I didn't fight her. She's always telling us we can be whatever we want and no matter how many times we tell her we want to be something, enroll in a class and drop out because we don't like it, she smiles and tell us that it's ok. We don't need to have that profession. Our sister Kelly, she does ballet, tap, is a makeup artist, plays the violin, and figure skates." he said honestly. "As you already know Dallas and I can both do stunts, mixed martial arts, gymnastics, and karate. I skateboard which I taught myself it, play guitar, sing, and cook which my mom is teaching me." he said honestly. "Dom and I take art, there's a lot that can come out of it and we are quite sure if we're going to do anything with it, we both also take computers. I want to learn computer programming where as Dom right now wants to hack and do computer forensics which we both need to be better typists which we think everyone is a typist because in middle school our second elective was computers. The whole school had to learn how to type without looking at the keys everyone had it until they graduate. We want to continue it. We both also know hip hop dancing. I like playing sports though. Kota plays with me some times, but I like it more than he does, he just sees it as a work out." Ash shrugged. "I also like video games. Sometimes I'll play all night on the weekends to see how long it takes me to beat a game, then write the company about how they can make it better. I once got paid one summer to test out a video game. I beat it in a day." Dom shrugged. "I want to learn about medicine so I might take that in college." Dallas explained as all of them opened up to Clare.

#wf