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watching a scene with a fav character can be so humiliating sometimes. like yes i'm watching this scene with this character because i want to see the character. yes i've paused it multiple times because i got too excited. before the character fully entered the screen even. guhhhh
Laur! Thank you so much for the asks, and the motivation - and here's some right back atcha 😉
This might get a bit long (phrasing), so I'm putting my answers under a cut.
🍬a song for your favourite character
Choosing a favorite song is definitely easier than choosing among my favorite characters, for sure. Those who know me, know that Joel is my husband 🤭 But Ezra was my first, and he is definitely one of my great loves.
I found this song a while back, on a random playlist. I feel like Ezra is a siren of sorts - his voice, his words reaching out to embrace the one he wishes to hold dear....or ensnare....
🍰where you like to write
I finally started getting my bonus room in order, and have a new desk set up as my creative space. Even got myself a mini boombox for musical inspiration (plays AM/FM, CDs and has bluetooth for streaming - best of all worlds).
Going to continue to stand in my little fandoms of one, writing stories for characters that deserved better or just more, in hopes that one day, other fans will come along and discover that someone else loved them enough to breathe life into them again.
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He wasted no time, pushing back inside your cum filled cunt, in a hurry to take his time with you now the smallest part of the need that had been growing for years had been sated.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, unable to hold them back, and always knowing, Paul’s thumb was already there wiping them away as he kept kissing you, his thrusts long and slow.
“I love you,” he whispered, leaving your lips to place short kisses all across your cheeks. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Each repetition made your heart swell in your chest, your tears coming on faster as you were graced with the words you never imagined you would ever hear him say to you again but wished for more than anything.
“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded, his own eyes wet as he looked down at you crying and smiling at the same time.
You reached up and cupped his cheek before pushing back the hair that was hanging in front of his face only to have it fall again, a sharp breath coming from you when you felt him flex his cock inside you.
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Nudity. Post/pre-sex intimacy.
Summary: A rare day off for Glen means relaxing, but when a powerful thunderstorm rolls in mid-day while you're already tangled up in bed, it guarantees to keep you under the blanket of its beautiful chaos.
A/N: this was inspired by an ask sent by the amazing and talented @hunnamandhoney who has tried literally everything to get me out of this godforsaken slump. I love you forever.
---
It's darker than it should be this time of day.
Rain pummels everything beneath it. Shingles, pavement, grass. Wind gusts like it has a demand to be noticed, taking branches and swaying them violently, even catching the rain in its drift to make it dance in tune with the currents.
The window is open a crack, enough to let in the cool, damp air while letting the hot, stale, yet still intoxicating scent of sex escape. You swear you felt the mist tickle your bare skin, your back facing the window and vulnerable to the elements, and maybe that was what stirred you awake.
The sheets are twisted around your legs but covering hardly any of you. Leftover signs of how your bodies were tangled up not long ago. Your eyes still feel heavy, slowly blinking in a fight to close them again, the weight of exhaustion heavy in your limbs as you shift slightly closer to the warmth that flanks your other side.
Solid. Safe.
Soft snores pass through his pink lips, the colour accentuated because of how much they had been pressed to yours. Kissing, biting, tasting.
You edge closer, slipping your arm over his torso in a need to touch him, feel him, cursing your subconscious self for having ever let go. His skin is dewy, sweat barely dried and clinging to hot, ivory flesh and caught in the dark hairs that cover it.
Thunder rolls, vibrating low from a distance before it radiates closer. You feel it rumble the house, the bed. A deep rattle in your chest, your heart picking up pace like it instantly knew to mimic the act. A flash promptly follows it, a salute to its power, complimenting and not at all an act of competition or contention. The thunder does not outweigh the lightning, and the lightning would not dare outshine the thunder. Individually, they are forces that conquer, yet together they prove even more the inability to be reckoned with. A love story as old as the universe.
Letting your eyes fall closed, you nuzzle your face into his chest, each breath in and out relaxed and content in knowing you can stay like this as long as you both want.
He is your thunder. Constant. Certain. Strong. He doesn't falter, never letting your lightning go left unchased or unreciprocated.
The fall of the rain increases. Louder. Harder. Steady like him. You smile, hoping it never lets up.
It's almost as though the storm brought patience with it. An unhurried sense to the day that masks any need to rush or skip over indulgences. Its chaos provides a peace you wonder if anyone else appreciates, and you vow to never take it for granted, for these moments are rare. Work and cases and investigations constantly kept Glen from being able to just be, but there was an unsaid agreement to relish every moment together from the moment morning had broke the night. It feels like an honour to share this time with him. Time where he is unburdened and unguarded, his mind seemingly quiet from all the noise that usually occupies it; his job a constant stress that takes a toll on so much of him, consumes so much of him. Right now he is only yours.
Another crack of thunder splits the sound of the rain, the snap of it turning Glen's snore into a sort of groan mixed with a sigh to indicate he's woken from his brief slumber. His arm closes in around your back, giving a gentle squeeze as he adjusts his head on the pillow.
You press a kiss to his chest, a seal to approve he can continue this earned contentment and reassure there's no reason to rush out of bed. The deep breath he releases feels warm on the top of your head, a stark contrast to the brisk air biting at the other side of you, and for a moment the slow, even rise and fall of his chest has you ready to drift off again.
It's short-lived, a loud clap blinking your eyes open at the same time Glen stirs, his voice gravelly and heavy when he speaks.
“Hmm, I fell asleep,” he groans, stating the obvious, but almost in a way that tells you he feels he shouldn't have.
“You're allowed,” you assure, a smile breaking your words as he shifts to roll you onto your back.
The view of the ceiling blurs as your head tips back and your eyelids flutter, the sensation of Glen’s growing scruff scratching the spot on your neck that always makes you ache drawing out a euphoric gasp from your parted lips.
“What time is it?” he mumbles against your skin, continuing to kiss lazily at all the parts between your ear and chest that make you squirm beneath him with fresh want.
“I'm not sure.” Your response is breathy, needy. He hears it all.
Glen wedges his leg between yours, nudging them apart until you're spread out for him, the look in his eyes as he glances down where your bodies are teasing each other up to your waiting lips making arousal rush through you like a bolt of lightning.
He tilts his head slightly, bringing his face lower to hover closer to yours, the blue of his eyes as deep as the storming sky outside.
“Good.”
You whimper when his hard cock brushes against your cunt, the gentle hold you had on his shoulders gripping to claw into his flesh instead.
An erratic pattern of light dances across the dark walls, highlighting everything for a brief moment before it's gone again, succeeded by an expansive growl that starts low and gradually becomes louder.
Glen leans in and captures your lips, seeking more of you just as the elements of the storm do the same, a symphony that ebbs and flows in a way that would never be as impressive without the other.
The storm is right over top of you now. Thrashing, booming, cracking. More furious than ever, and yet it feels like a barrier between the moment you're in and the reality you’ll return to tomorrow.
Glen peels away from you when the thunder roars so loud that everything shakes, his amused smile making you miss his lips already.
“Doesn't sound like it's going to stop any time soon,” you quietly state. Hope. Pray. Manifesting this never ceases.
His smile reaches his eyes before they flicker down to gaze at your lips, his tone heavy with lust and confirming your fate for the rest of the day as he repeats a single word from earlier slowly off his tongue.
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You're far too good to me and have shown me so much love today, and everyday. I am so lucky to have you 💗 thank you a million times for always providing me with all the Emmett goodness 💗💗💗💗💗
There is something genuinely addictive about a story that doesn’t just entertain you, but completely drags you into a whole new fandom against your will, and this series has absolutely done that to me. Every chapter feels so vivid and emotionally charged that you can practically see every look, every twitch of frustration, every guarded moment of vulnerability playing out like a scene on screen.
And honestly. A huge part of why this character hits so hard is because Emmett Scanlan is such an incredible actor. That man can say absolutely nothing and still break your heart with one look. His face lays every emotion out in the open, the rage, the exhaustion, the longing, the conflict, all simmering underneath that dangerous charm. He has this ability to make a character feel terrifying and heartbreakingly human at the exact same time, and this story captures that energy perfectly.
The emotional tension in this fic is torture in the best possible way. Every chapter leaves you desperate for more, and waiting for updates genuinely feels like psychological warfare. One minute you’re swooning over a sexy bad guy with feelings, the next you’re emotionally devastated over a single line of dialogue or a quiet moment that says everything without saying anything at all.
And can we talk about how this all started? Because the second I saw pictures of Emmett Scanlan in Kin, I already knew I was doomed. The man looked like an absolute handsome devil, and now here I am emotionally invested in fictional criminals and refreshing for chapter updates like my life depends on it.
Seriously though, everyone needs to read this ongoing series by the absolutely lovely @laur-kinsellaodonnell Stories like this are rarem the kind that pull you in completely, make you obsess over characters, and remind you why fandoms are so special in the first place. We will always love a sexy bad guy with feelings.
I can't begin to thank you for such kind words about my story. I've had this sitting here to reply to (for now months) because every time I read your comments and go to respond to them, I'm blown away that someone is saying these things about something I created.
First, thank you for reading this. I'm sorry that updates are few and far between, but I assure you it's not for lack of wanting to, but because it takes so much out of me. This story is so heavy with emotion and I'm beyond happy and relieved that it's noticed. It's always a high compliment to have someone become a fan of a piece of media or actor because you introduced them to it, and through fanfic I think it's even more so. MobLand, and especially Emmett, are deserving of far more fans and attention and knowing you've also decided to take on the character of Paul in your own fic is just so incredibly exciting!
Everything that you've said about Emmett and his acting is spot on and I couldn't agree more. He deserves to be in the spotlight more often than he is and I hope that this show can help shine the light on him and get more people attentive to his undeniable talent.
This fandom is small. So small that sometimes I feel like my stories aren't worth the effort or give reason to share, but wonderful, kind, supportive people like you are a huge part of the reason I refuse to stop.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for joining in and making this feel less lonely and futile. The joy in being able to share fandom with others who appreciate the same things as you is unmatched and really what it's all about. Because like you said, what's better than bonding over sexy bad guys with feelings?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
this is just my kind words going out to those writers and artists who haven't been around in a while. I know you guys get down on yourselves pretty badly but your worth is not determined by your productivity. Your worth is not determined by your likes or follows.
You deserve to rest, to be silent or loud or anywhere in between. You deserve to be loved for who and how you are, no matter where you are in your life's adventure.
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Nudity. Post/pre-sex intimacy.
Summary: A rare day off for Glen means relaxing, but when a powerful thunderstorm rolls in mid-day while you're already tangled up in bed, it guarantees to keep you under the blanket of its beautiful chaos.
A/N: this was inspired by an ask sent by the amazing and talented @hunnamandhoney who has tried literally everything to get me out of this godforsaken slump. I love you forever.
---
It's darker than it should be this time of day.
Rain pummels everything beneath it. Shingles, pavement, grass. Wind gusts like it has a demand to be noticed, taking branches and swaying them violently, even catching the rain in its drift to make it dance in tune with the currents.
The window is open a crack, enough to let in the cool, damp air while letting the hot, stale, yet still intoxicating scent of sex escape. You swear you felt the mist tickle your bare skin, your back facing the window and vulnerable to the elements, and maybe that was what stirred you awake.
The sheets are twisted around your legs but covering hardly any of you. Leftover signs of how your bodies were tangled up not long ago. Your eyes still feel heavy, slowly blinking in a fight to close them again, the weight of exhaustion heavy in your limbs as you shift slightly closer to the warmth that flanks your other side.
Solid. Safe.
Soft snores pass through his pink lips, the colour accentuated because of how much they had been pressed to yours. Kissing, biting, tasting.
You edge closer, slipping your arm over his torso in a need to touch him, feel him, cursing your subconscious self for having ever let go. His skin is dewy, sweat barely dried and clinging to hot, ivory flesh and caught in the dark hairs that cover it.
Thunder rolls, vibrating low from a distance before it radiates closer. You feel it rumble the house, the bed. A deep rattle in your chest, your heart picking up pace like it instantly knew to mimic the act. A flash promptly follows it, a salute to its power, complimenting and not at all an act of competition or contention. The thunder does not outweigh the lightning, and the lightning would not dare outshine the thunder. Individually, they are forces that conquer, yet together they prove even more the inability to be reckoned with. A love story as old as the universe.
Letting your eyes fall closed, you nuzzle your face into his chest, each breath in and out relaxed and content in knowing you can stay like this as long as you both want.
He is your thunder. Constant. Certain. Strong. He doesn't falter, never letting your lightning go left unchased or unreciprocated.
The fall of the rain increases. Louder. Harder. Steady like him. You smile, hoping it never lets up.
It's almost as though the storm brought patience with it. An unhurried sense to the day that masks any need to rush or skip over indulgences. Its chaos provides a peace you wonder if anyone else appreciates, and you vow to never take it for granted, for these moments are rare. Work and cases and investigations constantly kept Glen from being able to just be, but there was an unsaid agreement to relish every moment together from the moment morning had broke the night. It feels like an honour to share this time with him. Time where he is unburdened and unguarded, his mind seemingly quiet from all the noise that usually occupies it; his job a constant stress that takes a toll on so much of him, consumes so much of him. Right now he is only yours.
Another crack of thunder splits the sound of the rain, the snap of it turning Glen's snore into a sort of groan mixed with a sigh to indicate he's woken from his brief slumber. His arm closes in around your back, giving a gentle squeeze as he adjusts his head on the pillow.
You press a kiss to his chest, a seal to approve he can continue this earned contentment and reassure there's no reason to rush out of bed. The deep breath he releases feels warm on the top of your head, a stark contrast to the brisk air biting at the other side of you, and for a moment the slow, even rise and fall of his chest has you ready to drift off again.
It's short-lived, a loud clap blinking your eyes open at the same time Glen stirs, his voice gravelly and heavy when he speaks.
“Hmm, I fell asleep,” he groans, stating the obvious, but almost in a way that tells you he feels he shouldn't have.
“You're allowed,” you assure, a smile breaking your words as he shifts to roll you onto your back.
The view of the ceiling blurs as your head tips back and your eyelids flutter, the sensation of Glen’s growing scruff scratching the spot on your neck that always makes you ache drawing out a euphoric gasp from your parted lips.
“What time is it?” he mumbles against your skin, continuing to kiss lazily at all the parts between your ear and chest that make you squirm beneath him with fresh want.
“I'm not sure.” Your response is breathy, needy. He hears it all.
Glen wedges his leg between yours, nudging them apart until you're spread out for him, the look in his eyes as he glances down where your bodies are teasing each other up to your waiting lips making arousal rush through you like a bolt of lightning.
He tilts his head slightly, bringing his face lower to hover closer to yours, the blue of his eyes as deep as the storming sky outside.
“Good.”
You whimper when his hard cock brushes against your cunt, the gentle hold you had on his shoulders gripping to claw into his flesh instead.
An erratic pattern of light dances across the dark walls, highlighting everything for a brief moment before it's gone again, succeeded by an expansive growl that starts low and gradually becomes louder.
Glen leans in and captures your lips, seeking more of you just as the elements of the storm do the same, a symphony that ebbs and flows in a way that would never be as impressive without the other.
The storm is right over top of you now. Thrashing, booming, cracking. More furious than ever, and yet it feels like a barrier between the moment you're in and the reality you’ll return to tomorrow.
Glen peels away from you when the thunder roars so loud that everything shakes, his amused smile making you miss his lips already.
“Doesn't sound like it's going to stop any time soon,” you quietly state. Hope. Pray. Manifesting this never ceases.
His smile reaches his eyes before they flicker down to gaze at your lips, his tone heavy with lust and confirming your fate for the rest of the day as he repeats a single word from earlier slowly off his tongue.
god I’ve missed seeing you on my dash recently and even more so, reading your gorgeous words! they never cease to absolutely blow me away 🤯
Thunder rolls, vibrating low from a distance before it radiates closer. You feel it rumble the house, the bed. A deep rattle in your chest, your heart picking up pace like it instantly knew to mimic the act. A flash promptly follows it, a salute to its power, complimenting and not at all an act of competition or contention. The thunder does not outweigh the lightning, and the lightning would not dare outshine the thunder. Individually, they are forces that conquer, yet together they prove even more the inability to be reckoned with. A love story as old as the universe.
what am I even supposed to do with that?? it’s so unbelievably beautiful, the imagery is just unreal throughout all 1k words.
I love reading your tells. “Soft snores pass through his pink lips.” “The blue of his eyes as deep as the storming sky outside.” — those little details always make me feel safe. 🥰 there’s something so comforting about the way you write.
I really don’t even know Glen like that, but I can still feel how badly he deserves this moment of peace. and since we’re loving him through all the stress and sacrifice that comes with his career, I think we deserve to share in a little of that tranquility too 🥹
I swear bestie, every time I read your work, I’m reminded why I love it so damn much. you have such a way of making emotions feel lived in. thank you for sharing it with us!! 👏🏻💐☺️💗
Oh bestie 🥹 thank you for this and thank you for missing me and my writing. You know all of what I've been feeling lately so I won't get into it here, but you know how much hearing that means to me.
Thank you for picking out that paragraph in particular. I worried it was too much or too out of what the story was but I'm so happy it landed for you and you appreciated it 💗
My tells 🙈 I'm just down so bad for this man I can't help myself. It's flattering knowing I have them, and that with reading all my stories you're able to pick them out. And it makes you feel safe? 😭 as wretched as some thunderstorms can be, I wanted this to feel like a little pocket of peace and quiet intimacy.
I know I keep thanking you but I really am struggling with finding anything else that can express my gratitude 🥹 I am so lucky to have you here. You made this happen and it feels like part of me is slowly coming back to the things I love and have missed so much.
