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virgincels · 20 days

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(I COULD NEVER BE) YOUR WOMAN !

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. crossdressing, force fem, short instance of groping/harassment by some gross man, humiliation, dom!reader, a few misogynistic comments surprisingly not from leon, repressed homosexuality, leon n some unnamed cute guy, r slur is used ONCE by same gross dude, slight angst, implied/past sa very light tho, public sex, dub-con

note. title from white town duh has nothing to do w the fic. um unedited n quite bad not loving this but here u go.. 2000s clubbing.. I also want 2 say r slur is used by some dude who is just awful to leon in this.. not meant to be like . y’know there for shock value lol it’s a word I’ve been called a lot so that would be my last intention. um leon has some misogynistic thoughts but I don’t want them to come across as mine LMFAO I know that I do a very close pov so I don’t want my views to mix with the characters as people usually tend to think. comments n rbs greatly appreciated!

“You hate me,” Leon states like an upset child, one false lash deep into a murky pit he couldn’t even grapple hook his way out of.

“No, baby.” You shake your head, smiling at him like you hate him. “I love you very much.” The other lash is stuck on, black and spiky in kitchen knife points. He blinks and the heaviness does not melt away like sleep. “My sweet girl.”

“You do,” Leon says, he makes a vague gesture towards his attire, scooping nothing but air with his cupped hand, “hate me,” he adds after a second, the words hang heavy in the air like sopping wet laundry or a body from a tree. You’re busy giving him a once over, a small hand lightly grasping his chin to keep his head up. You’ve never held him so gently before, but this is how girls treat other girls, he supposes. With great care.

“What?” You use a lint roller to pick up loose fibre and tricky stray particles of dust. “Because I made you all pretty, honey?” You lean forward, and Leon, besotted, closes his eyes as if you’re going to kiss him. “I just did your makeup, no kisses, Leon.” Of course, that’s right, he forgot, no kisses. You lick your finger and smudge your work to give him that freshly fucked and wanting more appeal.

“Sorry.” He looks at his reflection.

Blink. Blink. Blink. His eyes make a tacky noise, as if each blink is unsticking them.

He looks ridiculous, not even like a drag queen, they are tasteful and deliberate in their art. He looks exactly like what he is - a man in a wig. There is no pretty way to put it because what he is looking at is not very pretty. The wig tickles his neck like a pale whisper. It is shining too brightly in the way all fake things do, plasticky in the buzzing bathroom light. Metallic shimmer dusts his eyelids like crushed stars, iridescent-pearlescent is all the rage nowadays, it’s barely visible past the thick black that lines his eyes like you’re actively trying to worsen his bags and push him into panda territory.

Leon thinks it is a good idea to think of nothing ever again, like ever. If he didn’t have that thought, if he didn’t sit opposite you at the dining table confessional-style, if he shut his mouth and never spoke a word—Then he would not be sitting here closer to tears than he ever has been, fists clenched tight enough to make coal into diamonds.

You thumb the corner of his glossed lips. “Ready?” You ask him, then turn to face him, pulling a smile that is so mean it’s somewhat ugly and out of place on a face like yours. “Don’t speak or you’ll ruin it, ‘kay?”

A bag big enough to carry a lip gloss tube and nothing else dangles on your pinky as you check your face in the mirror, usually your gloss would be in Leon’s breast pocket, or his back pocket. Whatever pocket he has available.

Today he has nothing of the sort, embarrassingly, you place a tube between his pecs and it stays. You tip your head back and laugh at him, swiping it away a moment later. “I’m only joking, Leon.”

A considerable amount of muscle has been dropped since he came back from Spain. Cooking is hard, eating is harder, and he only really makes the effort when you visit. You don’t pry, so it’s only now that he notices, filling out your dress too well, that his edge has almost completely been lost to softness.

And it’s still there—He’s still a man with a dick and balls first and foremost. His arms are big, and his chest juts out in the wrong way. Wrong. It’s all so wrong.

This thought is neutered by your hand on his too-big bicep, fingers curling to his shape as you guide him along the stairs in matching kitten heels, he clutches the bannister for support like he’s going into labour.

Today you drive. “Got to treat you like a princess,” you say, smiling at him. All teeth. You take off your heels and kick them beneath the seat where they’ll surely tangle in the cables.

Leon reclines in his seat, closing his eyes and breathing in and out, two minutes away from inducing labour. Dramatics, y’know? Because he’s a girl today, not because he feels like he is being gutted by a claw machine.

You drive, he tosses and turns and squints at the road ahead to hide his creased brow. You drive, and he wonders what led him to this very moment, what has become of him and his pity party life. But Simon Says and Leon does. You say and Leon follows blindly like a die-hard fucking fan of Jesus would. A disciple, he guesses, but in some way even that is too much credit. At least they were, like, on equal grounds. He’s too passive to be Judas, and too much of an unbeliever to be any of the other ones. He is just some fucking mangey street urchin suckling on the teat of a wild dog that Jesus patted once and cured and would not leave the poor dude alone.

Unfortunately, Leon takes instructions better than he does dick and that is his problem. Yeah, that’s what he was trying to say before it all got away from him.

The bouncer questions nothing, no ID is needed, which is both a relief and an insult to Leon. Does he look that old? This makeup, this dress, this stringy mop of a wig it ages him.

The bass of a thousand beating hearts rips through him.

If Leon was a girl he’d simply kill himself. It hurts too much. The dress is itchy and his chest is sweating and his full face of makeup is melting his skin into goop and his feet are killing him. He’s sorry for all those times he requested a girl keep her stilettos on during sex. He’s sorry to you for buying you shoes on all those anniversaries, birthdays and Christmases. He’s sorry for that time he requested a lap dance in heels on your anniversary, his birthday, and that joint Christmas. He is sorry to every fucking woman for the system that has been put in place that requires them to wear heels to work and to dinner dates and to pick their kids up from preschool.

“Are you hurting, baby?” You place a cool hand on his cheek, feather-light, ensuring you don’t smear his pasty foundation. When he nods, pitiful, you coo at him. “Oh, big ol’ Agent Kennedy, I’m sure you can handle it, sweetie.”

Leon shakes his head again, firmer and sadder. “You can handle it,” you tell him, smiling dropping as fast as it came. A hand comes to rest on his waist then slides upwards along his naked back, courtesy of the open back of his blue dress, gliding over his pronounced shoulder blades. Lily-white and spread sideways like lotus petals or something akin to angel wings.

The two of you end up in a booth with four men and a red-headed girl who is decently pretty. She talks too fast for Leon’s liking, and each time she opens her mouth, which is a lot of fucking times for a long fucking time, her spit flies out and lands on his face in beads.

There is a man who’s tall and strapping in the way Leon likes his men in the private fantasies he keeps hidden in the lonely gallery that is his mind. His experience with dick starts with Jack and ends somewhere before you. Jack taught him how to work a dick, and if Leon were to kiss and tell, he’d tell this man how much he wants to play with it, stroke it and love on it.

(Only if he was a girl, which tonight he is.)

You’re midway through telling a story, leant in for added effect, elbows on the sticky table. “And Leon says, she’s like—“ Your voice fades out.

Another guy, stout and ugly, sort of piggish in the face, asks, “Is it a dude?” He jabs his thumb in Leon’s direction. “That’s a dude's name.”

“What, no.” You frown, breezing over your blunder like fingers on silk. “It’s a nickname, y’know, from when we were kids, ‘cause she looks like a dude.” Laughter lifts into the air like plumes of smoke. Leon feels like he is breathing it in, tiny shards crystallise in his lungs and choke him.

He shouldn’t be humiliated, there is nothing to be humiliated about because he is what you say he is. He’s a dude. But he is humiliated, and it is driving him mad, he has killed himself in a hundred different brutal ways in his head while you talk.

“She don’t talk, she got a problem?” He says in his nasty, thick voice. “Is she retarded?” It sounds like there’s phlegm lodged in his throat all the fucking time. “Feminist?” Good lord.

“Oh my gosh, like, I don’t think you can say that,” the ginger smiles nervously.

“She just gets a little scared around guys.” Your smile is so cold it chills him to his core. “Bad experiences, y’know?”

Not exactly wrong. Leon is weary of shared showers, he is weary of urinals, of stalls with busted locks, and he is weary of other men, but he would never say it and he would never show it. But now, sitting here as a girl, as a woman, he trembles.

“Oh, yeah?” The dude sits back, spreads his legs to accommodate a dick he likely doesn’t have. Then he leaves it at that.

You kiss him to make up for the silence, you grope his tits—his chest through the fabric of his dress, you raise your Von Dutch tee to show off your cute heart-shaped pasties. None of it is for Leon, it’s for the guys sitting in front of you, because as a woman you exist for men, to perform and flash your panties and act like you’re into it.

Which you are, he knows your pussy is wet ‘cause of that look on your face, eyes glinting like marbles, you’re getting off on him being stretched past his limits.

An hour later, you push him onto the dance floor, watching through throngs of people and Leon is met with the pig-faced guy, he’s pink and sweaty like one too. Leon denies every advance he lays out. Then fingers splay over the round of Leon’s ass, and his flesh is gripped so tight it mottles how dicks purple.

The guy says something and everything and nothing but fluff. You uppity slut—You think you can—Speak up—Y’know, even the ugliest bitches have wet little pussies between their legs—

Leon really does not.

Leon could push him off. He could break his fingers, disable him, kill him in the middle of this godforsaken dance floor. But he just stands there and stares like a real woman.

(But he has always stood there and looked death right in the eye, it comes hurtling, barrelling into him at full speed like a shit-caked asteroid and all he does is stand there. He’s not had the energy to get back up lately.)

The handsome guy, the one that is taller than Leon, the one that he likes a lot, steps in and saves him. And this is what it must feel like, to be swept off your feet. To be princess carried and loved sweetly by someone worn and rough.

Christ, this wig has a mind of its own. Infecting Leon’s psyche with its mushy bullshit. He wants to go home. He wants a beer and a drag from your cigarette. He doesn’t smoke, but he will tonight.

“Are you alright?” The handsome man somehow manages to shout gently over the music. He is so nice, and so handsome it feels wrong to look at him. Leon thinks he knows, and when this man smiles, Leon knows that he knows for certain. “I won't tell.” He grins down at Leon again, soft and brilliant and kind.

Leon passes you on the way to the bathroom, he tells you that it’s getting stuffy in here, then he leaves to get stuffed with cock in the ladies room as all good boyfriends do.

The click of heels makes him suck in a breath, he plants two hands on the broad chest in front of him, tightens around the dick in him so hard he might cut off all blood flow, salty fingers in his mouth keep him from crying out.

Leon knows it’s you from the clink of your bangles. The source of chatter is the red-headed girl, you likely motion for her to be silent—He counts to twenty then meets your eye under the gap in the door. He whimpers around the fingers in his mouth.

“Oh my gosh, there’s totally someone in there,” you gush to the other girl who gasps, “I saw, like, two pairs of shoes, really cute heels.”

“She’s luckyyy, I hope she’s getting it good,” she sighs, “hey, where’d your friend go by the way, the blonde one?”

“Leon?” You seem to pause, weighing up your options. “She’s a total fucking slut.”

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way, I bet she’s gone home with some guy already—I mean, she might be in that fucking stall, wouldn’t put it past her.”

In the stall, Leon shifts, back bumping the wall as he pushes his hips out, grinding down on his dick like he needs this over and done with.

“I could never do that…” The redhead says, “It’s, like, so icky in here…”

“I don’t think Leon minds,” you muse, “I mean, like, don’t tell her I told you, but she gets on her knees in club bathrooms, like, she’s dirty.”

“Gross!”

“I know!” You burst into giggles. “I told her that’s, like, way too far! I mean they don’t even clean these places properly, they send some underpaid dude with a Kleenex out to do the job.”

Leon’s knees ache with the guilt of sucking dick on his knees in a Kleenex-cleaned club bathroom. The dick inside of him throbs, a single push and it spills into the rubber.

The click of heels fades out as you and your newfound friend exit the bathroom.

“You let your friend talk about you like that?” The man asks, smiling still.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Leon says meekly in a voice that is not his. He has never been meek or scared or anything of the sort. Leon has guts, too many maybe, they make him stupid. That’s what he gets by on. That’s why Leon returns home. Because he tries not to make a place for feelings.

“I know.” The guy shrugs, he spins Leon around so his back is facing the mirrors. Leon twists his head to look. The striated planes of his back. Your nails in his skin.

“Oh.”

Leon gets in your car and apologises.

“Aw.” You pinch his cheek, uncaring of your heavy hand now that his lipstick is smeared in rings around another man’s dick. “I know, baby, my girl just wanted to have fun.”

My girl, my girl, my girl. He’s not your girl. You’re his girl, and he’s your man and that’s the way Leon likes it. He likes to drape his arm over your shoulders in place of a coat when it gets windy, he likes to pay the bill on dates, he likes to drive you around and he likes to hold your shopping bags. Because that is good and swell and—It’s normal.

You drive him home without saying a word, letting him sit and drown in the weight of his problems until you help him inside, he’s hindered by 1.5 inch heels.

When Leon tries to take his dress off, you stop him. “Princess,” you coo, his teeth rot and he smells the cavities, “I want to play with you.”

“Not like this,” he begs, gazing up at you through his false lashes.

“Yes, like this, baby.” You sit him down on the couch, you take off your heels and then bend down to unbuckle the strap on his. That’s his job. Leon should be doing that for you, a tender grip on your ankle as he threads the metal through the needled holes. “Look at these.” You stand back up, taking the seat beside him, one of your small hands grabbing the underside of his thighs and spreading him open, a leg thrown over yours. “These cute tits,” you say, kissing his neck as you shove your hand down the low-cut neck of his dress, grabbing at his chest in pinching handfuls.

“Don’t call them that,” Leon says quietly, his ears pink like the pucker of his hole.

“I’ll say what I want, princess, okay?” You kiss him hard, teeth knocking into his and your wet tongue running over his front teeth like you want to scrape the plaque from them. “I’m going to fuck you like a girl,” you tell him, pushing his legs as far as they go, his toes curl.

“I don’t like that—“

“I don’t like your dick or your stupid sex talk and I don’t like being fucking pile drived, do you think I like being folded like origami you stupid fucking oaf?” It’s said in the same measured tone of voice you always use, the one that makes him feel stupid. “This is what it’s like being a girl, baby, gotta do what I want.”

Then you lift your hips, skirt shed and panties to the side, puffy pussy swallowing the tip of his cock as you sit on it, taking it inch by inch by inch by inch. All four of ‘em. You hold onto his ankles as you fuck yourself on his cock, a soft squelch everytime his cock bottoms out, slick dripping down his thick shaft and balls.

Leon doesn't like this. How you have him. How you’re taking him, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling good. Your pussy is wet and warm and it squeezes around him, gripping his cock like it’s all you’ve got to live for. You reach between your thighs to rub your swollen clit, but Leon beats you, wanting to make himself useful.

“Good girl,” you praise, eyes rolling back into your skull as you slow your pace, coming to a halt as you place a hand over his, urging him to rub you raw. Then you cum as he presses his thumb into your tiny bud hard, cunt spasming around his dick, letting out a gasp and toppling forward into his chest. Leon’s cock slips out of your cunt, rock hard and lonely, he holds you as his legs drop to the floor, feet on the floor where they belong.

“I didn’t… I didn’t get to…” Leon looks at your face and then his stiff dick, pouting almost.

“I know, baby.” You kiss his head tenderly, so tender he nearly forgets why he’s upset. “But you’re a girl now, right?”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil angst #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

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whatsaninterestingplacethisis · 6 months

Text

Flower Boy

Imagine

Nico Hischier x Latina!Reader

Synop: y/n a bitter florist, notices the foreign man that always stops by her work once a week.

a/n: Shy Nico + reader who hates love bc she’s never been in love before?

cw: cussing

Being a florist didn’t really require much work, depending on the day you could be held in the back or on dreaded days in the front left to socialize with people.

There are many types of people who buy flowers in person: 1. Spouses who think of their significant other 2. Spouses who forgot a special date for the significant other 3. Birthdays or house warming gifts etc.

Depending on who came into the small shop, it set the mood for the small talk. Spouses who were stressing about a forgotten anniversary kept silent. Spouses who bought a bouquet of roses wouldn’t stop talking about their ‘honey bun’.

The silence was always preferred over the “my girlfriend this” or “my boyfriend that”. Nobody asked, just take the goddamn flowers to your ‘sweetie pie’.

Lord knew you weren’t getting any flowers from anyone else. Probably the reason why you were so bitter. Either way, the rare chance you were gifted flowers, those babies would die within a week.

Ironic, working at a flower shop only to neglect the ones at home. Not that you had any at the moment.

Anywho you knew every time a fine man that walked into that door was most likely taken. Including the brunette with a backwards cap on scanning the sun flowers. He was too handsome to be single you thought.

You were gawking at him until he started to walk up to the counter.

“Hi, I want a sunflower bouquet but I’m not sure what else to add. Could you help me out?” the brown eyed man asked with a friendly smile

“No problem” you replied with a customer service smile. You walked outside the counter and helped the guy with the arrangement.

“How does this look?” You turned around with the finished design.

“It looks amazing, I really appreciate the help. I don’t know much about flowers but these look great.”

“That’s why im here to help.” You said with a half ass smile as you hand him the bouquet.

“That will be $32” Flowers were expensive too.

“Thanks again, these are going to make my mom smile.” Well that was different, the bouquet were for his mother and not his girlfriend.

“I hope she will.” You said with a genuine smile this time, a green flag noted for the man who buys his mom flowers.

Next week you were in the back, finishing up on bulk orders the shop needed for the following week.

“Hey y/n could you stand in for me a bit I need to take this call, pretty please?” Your coworker Ash who was working the front disrupted your silent shift.

“Sure” the call was probably about their cat, it had some medical issues lately as Ash had rambled on about.

Luckily no one was in the front when you took over and the call wouldn’t have taken too long. But you spoke too soon as the bell rang on the entrance door.

Lo and behold it was the green flag brunette. Instead of looking around he walked straight up to you at the counter.

“Hi” he said

“Hi”

“Did your mom like the bouquet?” You asked

“Huh?” He was almost out of breath when he came in.

“Last week, you were here and bought a sunflower bouquet that I beautifully made.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Yeah she loved it, thanks.” He quickly said, it looked like he was about to break a sweat

“So what can I help you with today?” You offered your services like usual

“Um well I want to- actually I’m in a rush and- can I just buy a single rose? Is that weird?” He stumbled over his words for the most simplest order

“A single rose it is, not weird at all. It won’t take long.” You turned to grab a single plastic sleeve and walked over to grab the best rose out of the bunch and packed it up.

“Your total is $3.” You handed the rose to Mr. Brunette and softly took his three one dollar bills.

“Thanks…y/n.” He said your name to your surprise

“Uh no problem.” You forget you’re wearing a name tag considering no customer calls you by your name.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else but just turned and took big strides out the door.

Next week was organizing the newly ordered flowers on the ground floor. Luckily they came in time before the downpour started. If it was raining it meant less customers were going to show, which of course you didn’t mind.

You were organizing the tulips when the hanging door bell chimed, making you turn to look at the drenched brunette who has always made an appearance every week.

“Hi” you said across the shop in confusion as to why he would walk in the rain to buy overpriced flowers.

“Hi” he tried to air dry his hair with his hands as if he were a golden retriever

“Do you need a towel or something?” You asked as you moved to the back to get one.

“That would be great.” He stood there awkwardly

You handed him a small towel, “Thanks”

“So did the rain inspire you to buy flowers today or?” You joke about his wet shirt and damp hair state

Fortunately, he laughs along. “No, it just surprised me as I walked here.”

“Well then, what can I get you today… I hope it’s not weird to ask for your name considering this is third time I’ve seen you here.”

“Not weird at all, it’s Nico. Honestly any small flower arrangement is fine today, whatever you think looks good.”

“Alright, Nico, I’ll see what I got. Is this for your mom again?” You never initiated small talk with customers but Nico was becoming a regular and you wanted to know if he was single or not.

“No” he laughed “it’s for a girl.” Thunder hit outside as the sound of your dreams being crushed.

“Oh that’s sweet.” Small talk was over now on your behalf. But the arrangement was going to be pretty either way.

By the time you exchanged the money for the flowers it was still raining outside, too hard for anyone to be walking without an umbrella.

“The rain hasn’t slowed down at all, I think there’s an umbrella I can lend you. It’s in the back just give me a sec.”

“It’s okay really, I don’t mind some rain.”

“It’s no problem.” You went in the back to find said umbrella

“I found it, it’s a bit dusty though-“ but Nico was gone and you were left alone with the flowers.

“So did you ask her- Dude why are drenched? You’re making a mess on my floor.” Jack said to Nico who was out of breath.

“It’s raining.”

“Obviously. So did you ask her for her number?” Jack asks his friend who had been pining over the flower girl, as Jack puts its, for weeks now.

“No. I chickened out last minute.”

“More like again. I mean c’mon I still have the rose from last time. What excuse did you say this time?”

“I said these were for a girl.” Nico motioned the fragile and ruined bouquet from the rain and running.

“Oh my god you’re an idiot. She totally thinks you have a girlfriend now.”

“Well I panicked! If I show up one more time she’ll think I’m a weirdo.”

“Maybe go again later today, when the rain is gone, and ask her out officially.”

“What if she thinks I’m a stalker or something?”

“She wouldn’t be that wrong to be honest.”

“Not helpful.”

“Neither is the rainwater on my wooden floors. Clean up before you go and see her.”

Nico leaving you without a goodbye was weird to say the least and rude. He literally vanished into thin air. Soon after he left the sky was clearing up and turning blue again.

An hour passed by and you were done restocking the flowers and ready to take a needed break. Since you were the only one there, you flipped the closed sign with the clock on it to read ‘will return at 2:20pm’ and locked the door. You decided to watch The Crown in the back room while eating your favorite snack. Although, half way into your break you hear fast and loud knocking.

“What the hell man, I swear some people cannot read.” You complained to yourself and went out to see Nico again but this time locked outside the shop.

You unlocked the glass door and opened it ajar for the guy, “hi” you say in a questioning tone.

“Did the flowers get ruined by the rain? Because I did have an umbrella for you, but you kind of just disappeared right after.” Nico was trying so hard to control his fast breathing, but you noticed. He just kept silent trying to hold in his breath.

“Are you okay? Did you run down here? Or is someone chasing you?” You peered outside the door to see anyone that could be possibly chasing him but no one was out of sorts.

“Can I come in?” he finally says something

You side eyed the closed sign and looked at your watch, there was a little over five minutes left of your break, but whatever right?

“Anything for my favorite customer” you stepped aside to let him in before closing the door again.

“So be honest with me, the flowers are ruined right?” You asked knowing you were 90% right.

“Yeah, sorry, they are.”

“To be expected. Well I can make you the same ones, not free though, I did advise you to take the umbrella.” You didn’t want to sound mean but you were right and Nico knew that.

“Actually, can I get one that you would like, if someone gave you flowers?” This was not a shocking request considering other boyfriends that come in ask the same thing because they don’t know what their girlfriends like.

“No problem.” You always had the same bouquet in mind for this request, very simple and easy to care of, but a sight to see nonetheless.

“Here you go, don’t ruin these ones now.” You joke, hoping it would land and it did with Nico’s smile as proof.

“Hopefully your girlfriend likes them.” You say flatly before turning to clean up the scraps of the arrangement.

“Actually” he whisper yells before you turn around completely. He passes the flowers back to you, with a note of his own with his number on it.

You looked down at the flowers and catch the note, “I thought you had a girlfriend” you asked looking at the man across from you.

“No, I don’t I gave the rose to my friend, he still has it.”

“Oh…?” You say in confusion on what he was trying to say.

“Oh we’re not- he’s just a friend- I’m- this is my way of asking you out and I’m doing a horrible job, sorry”

“So the first sunflower bouquet wasn’t for your mom?” You were totally confused.

“No those were actually for my mom. The rose, wasn’t for anyone, I just wanted to see you again. Sorry if that’s weird.”

“And today’s flowers?”

“Another excuse to see you again.”

You started to smile and almost laughed at his stumbling of words “I see”

“I was supposed to ask you out earlier today but I backed out and now I’m here again.” He says with a nervous smile patiently waiting for your response.

“Thanks Nico, you’ll get your answer when I get back home.” You slyly say before placing the flowers in a vase of water.

“Okay, have a nice day.” He said with zero confidence as he walked out the shop thinking he completely screwed up.

You got home later and set the flowers on your counter, taking the hand written note with you to your couch.

Flower boy (nico)

Hey flower boy, I think I have your answer. Also I think it’s really sweet to give your friend flowers!

#nhl imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #latina!reader #jells🪼imagines #homies deserve flowers too

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svmjaeyvn · 3 months

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sincerely yours, s.jy.

chapter 00. origami hearts. pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader

add yourself to the taglist here

synopsis: where they meet once on the subway but he never forgets her or the encounter no matter how much time has passed

"YOU KEPT MY NOTE IN YOUR WALLET THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

"WELL, YEAH? I WASN'T JUST GOING TO THROW IT AWAY,"

00. ORIGAMI HEARTS

masterlist next

word count: 3.2k

my tags: @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @coolwitu @addictedtohobi (open)

a/n: cute pre debut jake and a little backstory :) (also this was originally written with an oc in mind of 3rd person pov so if i forgot to make some edits here and there i apologize)

— SUMMER ‘19

YOU SQUEEZED YOUR eyes shut. Reluctantly pulling your phone down, you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to alleviate the blurriness that came from staring at your screen for an unprecedented amount of time.

The distant sound of the tracks were drown out by your headphones that played music consistently the second you stepped into the subway. With it being the middle of the day, there were less people commuting providing enough comfortable space to find a spot to stand at without being compressed or hovered beside others. A majority of the open seats provided for everyone to use had been taken, leaving you to decide against squeezing between two random strangers although your feet continued to ache as time passed.

Letting out a near silent groan, you rolled your neck in the smallest of ways. Ensuring you weren’t disturbing other passengers, you shifted your weight on your feet. Although no one had turned to provide any attention to you, you continued to attempt to get comfortable until losing your footing upon the subway swaying.

The off-balancedness caused you to stumble back while your feet tripped over the person's behind you. Nearly falling back, a pair of hands were quick to catch, one behind your back while the other grabbed your arm.

Scrambling to stand up properly, you spun around to face the stranger who saved you from the fall. Not leaving yourself enough time to catch a proper glimpse, you bowed down to a near 90 degree angle. "I'm sorry, thank you for catching me,"

Your stiff pronunciation caused you to grimace in your head. It had been hard for you to adjust in using Korean, although with the few friends you’ve made, you still had trouble speaking to strangers as it made you nervous.

Not getting an immediate response, you cautiously looked up. To your surprise, your gaze landed upon a boy, one that seemed to be your age who was gaping like a fish. Looking rather flustered himself, he began to scratch the back of his neck.

"Uh, it's okay. You're welcome," With his words flowing between English and Korean, your eyes lit up. His pronunciation sounded like yours when you first started learning.

Glancing around, you took note of how no one else within had bothered to spare the two of you a look of interest. "You speak English?" You asked softly, your voice low and his expression visibly relaxed.

"Yeah, I'm from Australia but moved back to Korea a few days ago," He replied, matching your level of tone. You nodded, the clear accent shadowed his words that contrasted against your American one. "My name is Jake,"

"I'm ___," Returning the boxy smile sent your way from Jake, you felt a sense of comfort in the Australian boy considering you weren’t forced to rack your brain continuously to attempt at a conversation like you usually did. "I'm from the U.S,"

Jake nodded along."What part?" He asked politely, choosing to further the conversation between the two of you.

"California," You answer, a small smile appearing at your lips as his eyes widened with surprise.

"Oh that's cool! I've always wanted to visit there," He beams, his giddy expression one that reminded you of an excited puppy. With a quiet laugh leaving your lips, you shifted your weight on your feet and fumbled with the rings along your fingers. Although you excelled at masking your discomfort, Jake was able to pick up on it. Standing up from the spot he was previously sat in, he pulled his backpack over one shoulder and made a small gesture to the now open space. "Um, here, here please sit,"

You blinked. Involuntarily, you felt your face tingle with heat slowly creeping across your features. "Oh, oh no, no please. You were sitting first and my stops almost here-"

"You've been shifting in your spot since you got on," Jake spoke softly, this time out of embarrassment as his expression flushed a deeper red compared to yours. "I-I mean, I just noticed. I was going to tell you to switch with me earlier but I didn't know if that was weird and plus, my Korean isn't very good so I didn't know if that's all you spoke either,"

"Oh, um," You felt a smile perk at your lips. The kindhearted gesture only furthered your amusement seeing as how Jake looked awfully bashful staring at you with nervous eyes and slightly flushed red cheeks. "Thank you, Jake," With a slight bow, you allowed yourself to slip into the unoccupied seat.

A shiver shot down his spine, Jake having to resist the urge to react. He couldn't tell if he was more happy that you didn't turn down his offer or because of the way his name rolled off your tongue and echoed like a soft melody.

"You're welcome, ___," He replies, attempting to keep his giddiness at bay but as soon as your eyes met, they quickly looked away in sync. A laughter filtered between you, voices mixing together to fill the air out of the awkwardness that swirled between you two teens.

You noticed how Jake was quite shy, although he did hold a sort of openness and warmth to him, he was shy nonetheless beneath the surface.

As the giggles begin to die out, your gazes connected once more. Gleaming eyes and ghost smiles shared, your bodies subconsciously moved in the slightest of ways to face one another. Jake was the first to look away, overwhelmed by the deep contact and praying he had no sense of blush rushing over his features from it.

You smiled, you found it endearing. Clearing your throat, you shook head slightly before straightening up. "Why'd you come back to Korea?"

"Hm?" Jake hums, tilting his head curiously not fully comprehending the sentence as he was far too engrossed by the pearly smile you continued to flash at him.

"You just came back to Korea, yeah?" You reiterate. "So, what brought you back?"

Jake pauses, pondering over the question. "I, uh," He begins, a small hum leaving his lips. He had a small debate within himself, wondering if he should tell you the truth but as he looked back to you who sat with a doe eyed expression patiently staring up at him, he knew the answer. Looking around momentarily, Jake leaned in slightly, one hand holding the safety pole he stood next to as he dipped down. "I have an audition at HYBE with Bang Si-hyuk,"

You took a moment, blinking slowly as you processed what he said. "Hold on," You spoke, a small laugh filtering through. "HYBE, like as in the company that BTS is under? And Bang Si-hyuk who is the one who founded them? You're auditioning for that HYBE?"

Living in Korea, you understood and clearly saw just how much of an impact BTS and K-pop itself had on the world. Its popularity continuing to grow internationally and you yourself had run in to a few wannabe trainees when you were with friends on a night out. But you could tell Jake wasn't telling you just to boast and make himself seem cool and admirable.

"That's amazing Jake," You encouraged, warmth evident in your voice as he smiled at your positive reaction. "I'm sure you'll make it and do great,"

"Eh, I don't know," Jake spoke, a hand going up to run through his hair. "It's an international audition, there's going to be guys from everywhere and I'm not even a trainee. I probably won't get it,"

Clicking your tongue, you shook your head. "You've got to have faith in yourself," You encourage but Jake merely shrugged his shoulders. It was evident that the boy was nervous, his confidence level low for someone who was aiming to be a soon to be star. "I know you'll make it,"

An airy laugh left his lips. "What?" He snickers, perplexed by your bold words that seemed like a promise. You stared back at him, nodding once with a look that displayed you didn't hold an ounce of doubt. "You.. you don't even know me. I could be a terrible singer and dancer, how could you be so sure without even knowing if I had talent?"

"Well, you and your family flying out from Australia just for an audition that you knew you wouldn't make doesn't seem very likely," You start, holding up a finger as you stated the reason. "Which means you have some form of talent in singing and dancing department," A second finger went up. "Having potential and working harder for the things you want tend to work out for people," A third. "And you're cute. Along with that boyish charming thing you got going on. That covers an all around good idol on the surface level, right?" A final finger went up as you beamed a smile, your reasons being enough justification in your eyes.

"That.." Jake began, fumbling for a proper retort but he figured anything he would say wouldn't be enough to convince you. Instead, his eyes flickered to the ground, a small form of embarrassment from the unexpected praise and blind faith held for a boy you just met. He didn't even have time to properly comprehend the latter sentence of flattery and compliment that came from you as he was already flushed from your words prior.

Amused, you began to dig through your bag, eyes flickering up to Jake who stood in a trace looking back at you with a dazed expression. Repressing a laugh at the doe-y look, you find the packet of gum you were searching for, pulling out a stick for yourself before pausing. Holding out the packet, Jake blinked out of his frozen state, glancing at the half empty pack, he hesitantly takes hold of a stick for himself.

"Thank you," He speaks up, voice softer than before due to his previous flustered state still lingering within.

Humming in response, you began to unfold your wrapper and stuck the gum in your mouth, beginning to chew. Fumbling with the foil and paper, Jake watches as you carefully folds the small sheet into shape. Expertly maneuvering the gum wrapper as if it were nothing, he watched as the folded paper turned into a small heart within a few seconds.

Noticing his curious gaze, you held it up with a smile to display your heart. "A girl I met in second grade taught me how to do this. I thought it was the coolest thing and I've just, sorta done it ever since then,"

"It is cool," Jake agrees, amazed at how quickly you were able to create it.

You held out your hand, gesturing to Jake's that held his empty wrapper. "Here, I'll do it to yours and show you," You offer and immediately afterward he hands it over.

Folding the paper slowly this time, you hold it carefully for him to see in full display.

"So why did you come to Korea?" Jake asks after a few seconds. Glancing up, you intended to meet his gaze but his eyes were focused on following along to the origami folding you were in the process off. A small smile peaked at your lips, the way his head was tilted slightly to the side and the soft way his brows pinched together in concentration were endearing.

"I'm an exchange student," You answered, going back to focusing on the heart. "I just finished my second year of University,"

Jake's head quickly picked up at this. With wide eyes, he stared at you in shock. "How old are you?" He blurts, the words leaving his lips without second thought. The entire conversation between you two, Jake had assumed you were the same age, maybe he was even a little older considering the baby-face look that you had.

"Here in Korea, I'm 18," You answer with a small laugh out of amusement from the reaction. "I was born in '02,"

"I was too," Jake frowns his brows, his confusion furthering. "So, internationally you're only 16?"

"17 actually, my birthday just passed in April," You correct with a small shrug. "I skipped a grade and throughout high school I took college classes so I'm a little ahead of everyone our age,"

"Wow," He breathes out in awe of the information. "So for the past year you've been living here?"

"Yeah, roughly," You nod along. "Growing up, I was essentially raised by my mom and her best friend. Her best friend is Korean and her family still lives here so when I said I wanted to take an exchange year, they set it up and I've been living with her sister and her family,"

"That's really cool," Jake meets your eyes, you sending him a mere smile, waving it off. "Seriously, you're really cool," He reiterates, practically oozing with admiration for your accomplishments. The praise followed with boyish charm as he returned your meek smile with a boxy grin.

"Yeah?" You laugh, finding his spark of amazement rather amusing. "You're cool too Jake," You add, holding up the now finished folded up heart. Although he lost his concentration on figuring out how to make one of his own, Jake still took the origami wrapper happily, carefully holding it as if he were afraid he'd mess it up so quickly.

Slipping your phone out from your pocket, you take note the time. Pursing your lips, you begin to fumble with your bag again. Jake watched expectantly, confused as you pulled out a pen and began to unfold your own paper heart that you made first.

"When's your audition?" You asked, the words momentarily distracting Jake from whatever you began to scribble along the inside of the wrapper.

"Three days," He replied, clicking his tongue at the thought. The nerves that he had since the moment he landed in Korea had begun to flood back, the momentary relief from speaking to you only lasted so long before he was reminded of reality and his circumstances.

You nodded, a small hum leaving your lips. "That's when I fly back to America,"

Jake tensed up. He understood that you were essentially a stranger, the short conversation one that would probably be irrelevant to you later on but to him, you were the first almost-friend he's made since landing. Being alone without his family made it that much harder to fight his internal battle of worries. He had a false hope that maybe your subway talk would lead to a proper friendship but once again, reality brought him to a rude awakening.

The metro began to come to a gradual stop. The cart swaying slightly as the subway pulled into the station and in return, a few passengers began to stand, one including you.

With the pen now tucked away and your origami heart folded once more, you sent the boy a bright smile that brought warmth to their bittersweet goodbye. "This is my stop," You announced, adjusting the bag that was slung over your shoulder. "I liked talking to you Jake,"

"Yeah, me too," He replied softly, his smile evidently smaller than before causing you to feel a tug at your heart, noting how adorable it was from your perspective. His pout indicated that he enjoyed your company just as much as you did. "We're probably never going to see each other again, are we?" Jake snickers, clicking his tongue with distaste at the thought.

"Who knows?" You began, gesturing for him to hold out his hand. Raising a brow, Jake followed to your signal, his hand being held between the two as he allowed you to grab hold of it. Flipping his wrist so his palm was facing upward, your hand cupped his own while your other gently placed the origami heart in the center. Your soft fingertips grazed his skin, the contact sending a wild flame throughout his body and Jake had to resist the urge to shiver at the contrast of how cold your fingers actually were. "If we're meant to then we will, I'll even buy you a drink for our reunion,"

"I feel like I should do that instead of you," He teases as you hum. Your hands moved away from his own, the loss of contact left a lingering air between you as the subway doors opened allowing for passengers to flood both in and out.

"You can pay for the one after that," You smile, taking a step back indicating the end of the temporary rendezvous from the outside world. "Hey, when you're a big worldwide idol, remember that I was your first and biggest fan, got that?"

Jake let out a small laugh, nodding along fully compliant. "Of course, I'll remember," He agrees causing you to nod.

"Good," You hum. Making your way to exit the doors, you stops to turn to the boy watching after you still. The familiar cheeky smile appeared at your lips, one that seemed bigger and brighter than the others and sent Jake's heart to rapidly thump like a drum through his ears. "Bye Jake,"

"Bye ___," He echos, voice softer than before but a fond smile captured his expression. Sparing him a look, you spun on the heels of your feet and began to walk away from the opening.

Jake's eyes followed you through the windows within, focusing on your figure walk away but just before you disappeared from his line of vision, you turned back. Seemingly feeling his gaze, you looked up with a smile, waving a final goodbye.

One that he mirrored. As the metro closed its doors and began to embark to its next destination, the two of you waved at one another until finally out of sight.

Jake let out a sigh. Glancing around, he noticed that the subway was more crowded than before but the seat he and you shared was open right beside him. Placing himself down in the spot, the boy situated himself before carefully beginning to unfold the heart you left him.

With his own safely tucked away in his jacket pocket, Jake's eyes narrowed in on the writing that filled the inside of the gum wrapper. The short message that was written scribbled in a hurry but still neat nonetheless.

The note itself was short and sweet, adhering to the small amount of space and minimal amount of time given to write it. You wrote it out of a final boost of confidence for the boy, intended to hopefully give him some form of temporary encouragement. You figured he'd smile at the message but it would nonetheless be thrown away later on in the day, soon forgotten along with the majority of their conversation with time passing.

But that wasn't the case for the words written held a far greater weight than you knew. Rather than having you forgotten, Jake would hold onto the origami hearts, it and it's message being close to his heart along with the idea of a girl he wasn't sure he'd ever meet again.

©svmjaeyvn

#enhypen #enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enha x reader #jake x reader #jake enhypen #enha #fluff #jake fluff #get ready for puppy jake

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002yb · 5 months

Text

Blanket apology on the lateness to all of these replies. ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

Head bonks when they’re brushing their teeth over one sink

A persisting argument of Dick wanting to save any stray bugs that make their way into their apartment while Jason wants to eradicate them (because Dick thinks they’re neat, but Jason associates them to an unkept home)

They don’t own a mop, so they make a conga line where Jason shuffles through with a wet towel and Dick shuffles through with a dry towel behind him

Dick coming home with groceries, only for the both of them to go back out again because he forgot the top thing on the list; it happens consistently and Jason has an inkling Dick does it on purpose (he does)

Whipping each other with towels and vaulting over furniture to escape impending doom

Tucked away in this ask, only I’m not sure what else to add hahaha.

Just Jason consciously falling in love with Dick over a series of mundane moments

So he associates all these little things with Dick in that way young lovers do

A certain route they patrolled, the flickering of a neon sign, the wind pulling through their hair as they sat up high on a skyscraper. The pounding of his heartbeat as they chased each other, the sweltering heat of a humid day or the smell of a coffee – warm where Dick pressed it to Jason’s cheek and warm throughout his body when Jason sipped at it and let it chase away all the fatigue. Dawn on the horizon with Dick at Jason’s window - lingering just a moment longer.

Jason being very aware of how smitten he is and doing nothing about it. Just basking in the present moments as they come and being content in their afterglow.

This is perfection. No notes. Superb.

Uaaaaaahhhhhhhh an art like this must exist, right? It’s too good not to!! Damian being ornery with Dick in this sort of capacity (with them both fawning over Jason) is probably my most favorite dc fanon thing hahaha. Thank you for the visual of this, anon!

Hahaha, how Dick keeps his degeneracy under wraps is beyond Jason, truly. Truth be told though, it stops being discreet because Jason’s reactions to all of Dick’s dirty talk is so obvious. That’s okay though because Dick doesn’t mind. Even if he goes down, Jason goes with him; they’re partners in life and in their perverse ways. An accusation Jason adamantly refuses because they are not the same; no way!

To which Dick will roll his eyes but it’s whatever. Denial is the first step to acceptance. That besides, it’s not like Jason isn’t the one pulling Dick aside or beckoning him someplace private after Dick drops those suggestions. ;)

Hahaha, the perpetually single ones for sure. But I think those who are in committed relationships would be overwhelmingly fond and nostalgic. Seeing dickjay’s young love, so new and sweet and exciting, would remind them of back when they were first falling in love. And it’d maybe spark some rekindled romance in their own relationships as they reminisce.

Meanwhile dickjay admiring those who have been in relationships longer because they’re comfortable and settled and really? They can’t wait to be there, but for now Dick and Jason just enjoy each other day by day. //u///

There’s a story sitting in my drafts that covers this. It’s been done for months but tbh having to tag on ao3 is such a daunting thing. I’ll try to get this posted for you soon, anon.

This exchange is the closest to eldritch!Dick as I can imagine.

Will-o-Wisp!Dick lives in my head rent free and it’s the closest I think I can get to something eldritch (because I’m dumb I don’t actually get what it’s supposed to be LOL). Or something akin to a will-o-wisp. With Dick being able to twist his voice and image to lure people into the bog that is Gotham’s bowels. He usually makes himself known as a robin chirping in the night; a warning song.

Other times he’ll appear as a child, dashing through shadows with laughter echoing through alleys. A beautiful boy that lures criminals away from the main streets and any lingering lights, or guides innocents someplace safer.

And then there’s Dick Grayson, grown and bewitching with the mirthful light in his eyes and a wicked smile; bared teeth and a jaw that might be too sharp.

Dick becoming an urban legend in his own right. Where he’s ‘passive,’ only not really. He guides people through Gotham and depending on the situation, Dick will bring them home. Or he’ll walk them off a building’s ledge, into oncoming traffic, or for those most wicked – infront of the muzzle of Red Hood’s gun.

This post.

Ahahahaha, thank you so much! Jason getting all flustered after being exposed (by himself, no less) is so charming. For as much as I love maiden!Jason, he’s probably a bit of a freak ngl. Like Jason probably kink shames himself after bringing up something he’d like to try with Dick and Dick sputters because the depravity is !!!

Just Jason basing the validity of some of his kinks on Dick’s reaction to them because Dick is the most depraved man he knows.

Of course even when Jason catches Dick off guard (surprisingly often), Dick gets on board real quick.

But yeah, without fail I think it’s always Jason that exposes his own kinks. And he’s not casual about it at all once he realizes and that exposes himself further and it’s the most vicious of cycles, hahaha.

In reply to this ask.

Tbh, no change LOL. Dick’s domesticity kink and how he reacts to Jason being domestic transcends time and circumstance. So, basically: Simp King!Dick Grayson. Who is genuinely turned on by stupid, mundane domestic things but who also plays up his reactions because it makes Jason laugh and fluster and Dick loves to see that.

The visual of Dick being taken out at the knees or falling into the wall for support or just keeling over a bit while biting his sleeve because Jason is cooking/cleaning/doing laundry is just so silly hahaha. Or even Dick just being all sparkly and flowery because yeah, check out his boyfriend (only don’t, thanks) being so sweet and caring and wonderful. //U////

But also the heated moments because of course. Where Dick:

Hooks his chin over Jason’s shoulder as Jason cooks something over the stove. Hands on Jason’s hips and peppering kisses just below Jason’s ear (and in abo setting getting a little high off of Jason’s scent because nothing is more tantalizing than that). And Jason tries to turn around so that they can fool around a bit, but Dick is all, ‘nope, keep cooking //W////’ and proceeds to just shower Jason in some heavy petting

Oh. Basically the above, but Jason is washing dishes. And Dick manages to make Jason come with only the graze of Dick’s teeth at his nape and some dirty promises

Dick pushing Jason back onto a pile of unfolded laundry and having his way with him right there. ANd Jason loves it in the moment, caught between still hot clothes and Dick burning above him. Up until they get off and Jason realizes he has to redo laundry. Again.

It’s cool though. Dick joins him and they fuck again with Jason bent over the wash, detergent spilling everwhere.

Omg they’re fooling around as the washer is going only to have it flood with suds because they accidentally spilled in too much detergent ahhhahaha

Honestly torn between Damian wholeheartedly believing possessiveness = protectiveness, or whether he's aware of the difference but was impacted by losing Jason (when Jason left the League) and that loss fucked him up in a way that makes him believe that to keep someone close, you've got to own them. 🤔

Either way, Damian rates Dick low because there's always room for improvement. There's potential, surely, but generally Dick is too nice.

As for something that constitutes Dick being bumped up to a 10? Ahahaha, Vampire King!Dick turning Jason and making him his vampire queen and doing so in a way where Jason can only feed on Dick to survive. And when Jason tries a hunger strike, Dick retaliates by starving Damian somehow. It's an inconceivable thought if only because Dick is so soft on him, but it would prove very telling.

Hello, hello~ I’m getting by alright. Sorry that I’ve not been posting much though! And that it took so long to reply to this ask. ;3;

But yeah, Talia and Jason. Because I’m a sucker for Jason whump forever and always, I’m partial to a relationship where Talia only cares for Jason because of his relationship with Bruce. So there’s no love or genuine affection there for Jason as an individual, just as a convenient means of achieving a faroff goal. Where Jason is, once again, collateral damage.

That’s a disservice to Talia though so like, reserved mother figure or just a lady who is fond of the nanny/bodyguard she found for her son is cool, too!

Thank you for reading so many of my posts! It makes me happy that you enjoyed enough to read more. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Jason winning over the hearts of all the shop employees because despite his intimidating stature, Jason is a timid maiden as he wanders the shop. His gaze keeps wandering to the delicate lingerie and corsets, but Jason’s convinced it’d be dumb on him because he’s not exactly dainty

Queue encouraging salespeople and clientele and Jason being so flushed that everyone falls in love with him

Also everyone being like, hot damn, because that bust to waist ratio? Sinful. Who’s the lucky guy that landed him?

It’s the atmosphere of the place that gets Jason sharing a picture of Dick and oh boy does Jason preen as everyone admires his boyfriend.

Just Jason having a good time despite the initial (and persisting because he’s a maiden) embarrassment lol.

And then he gets home and omgggggg Dick

Dick sneaks in and catches Jason trying to lace up the corset on his own and Dick is such a goner because hot damn hot damn he’s fainting don’t call for help though, just cushion his fall with those bolstered tits; let Dick catch himself with hands braced on that cinched waist fuuuuuuuuuu–

For real, Dick is just so delighted because Jason is so gorgeous (and cute and sweet, because of course he flusters and tries to explain everything away, but Dick isn’t a fool; he’s fully encouraging and supportive)

Then it’s just Dick pulling the corset tight for Jason

And marveling at the way he pulls Jason’s breath from him

Looking over Jason’s shoulder to watch Jason watching himself in the mirror

Then running his hands over Jason so that he can watch through the mirror

And when their eyes catch Jason is blushing red and the corset already has him short of breath, but seeing Dick’s heated gaze has him feeling faint–

Then Jason wakes up and Dick is all sheepish because he might have pulled the corset too tight, whoops; they were both a little overzealous

Dick wanting to go with Jason the next time he goes shopping. He wants to pick something for him, too ;)

This ask.

Bahaha for comedy the baby is absolutely Clark and Jason's. Logic be damned, Bruce would be positively teeming with rage directed solely at his 'partner,' his 'better half,' his 'we're divorced now' bestie and just. One would think Superman went and impregnated Bruce's babygirl as opposed to the cloning that actually happened.

But yes, basically Bruce being mad because:

Clark 'knocked up' Bruce's darling babygirl

Clark is the father

The baby isn't Bruce's

Poor Clark can't catch a break, either, because Dick? He is his adoptive daddy's son through and through and is also teeming with rage directed solely at his 'hero,' his 'most revered mentor,' his 'i'm disowning myself now' second father figure because like. Really?? Dick just bought a ring?? ('But you haven't had your first date yet?' Clark would note, to which Dick would bristle because, 'It's serious-- ;n;').

Let's not forget Damian 'brocon' Al Ghul-Wayne, either. Because ahahaha. Even while Jon is dropping the biggest hints about being disappointed and wanting to start a family with Damian, Damian is zeroed in on Jon's dad because Clark and Jason? Absolutely not. As you might guess, Damian is teeming ahahaha. Because to him, Jason is simultaneously mother and babygirl. In that same vein, Damian's place as t h e b a b y in Jason's life has been stolen from him and he's distraught.

Meanwhile Tim is with Kon and they're just like, PHEW. Thank fuck. But then just a few seconds later they're fooling around because, 'no clones here; I'll put a baby in you myself,' and 'yeah? go ahead and try. ;)'

#dickjay #jaydick #another lightning round of replies

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phoenixyfriend · 2 years

Text

I think the problem I have with finding good Anidala fic is that. Like.

They're usually background to something else, as the established canon ship.

A lot of authors add the element that they were doomed to go domestic-violence-y or bitter divorcees and I don't want that.

Or there's the undercurrent of This Will Become A Tragedy, which. Can I have a few instances where it isn't, please?

People really like writing Padme as being The Sane And Sensible Female Character, Because Women Always Have The Brain Cell.

It's always mixed with a callout for either them or the Jedi.

Like. Damn. Can I just get my comedic AU where they can be morons in love?

Fantasy AU where Padme's a princess in a castle that Anakin has to save and they make out while the dragon is almost upon them because they're horny young adults and Obi-Wan Will Take Care Of It, Right?

College AU where Anakin's working in a repair shop and Padme comes in with a broken transmission and he literally trips over himself trying to impress her.

Lovebug AU where they get hit with some spell or chemical that makes them take all their private Romance Novel Dialogue and start spouting it in public and everyone around them is just like 'yes, this ridiculous phrasing is the fault of the interfering element' but no it's just Them Being Them.

Post-war AU where O66 didn't happen and they dump the twins on Uncle Obi for date night but the date night gets crashed by assassins and they spend the rest of the evening shooting things, flying speeders, and arresting people.

Mid-TCW AU where they have to 'pretend' to be married for a mission but they're already secretly married and they awkwardly try to straddle the line of looking like they're not in love to the supervising Jedi but looking like they are in love to the leaders of the planet they're on and they never land on the same page when deciding how much affection to show.

Literally any AU, modern or canon or what, where the two of them find out someone's got a crush and get really, really into matchmaking as a duo like they cannot get enough of this. You mentioned this person twice and they are already planning your wedding.

Them tag-teaming to seduce themselves a third (Rex, it's Rex) but their standards for romance involves things like shooting pirates and blowing up buildings, so it only works if the person they're seducing can be impressed in a good way by exploding starships (I mean he probably can).

Modern AU where Ahsoka needs someone to come in for a parent teacher conference, and the usual adults (Plo, Shaak, Obi-Wan) are all out of town, so Anakin and Padme go to talk to her teacher instead and it's. Uh. Why are there bodyguards here?

Any AU where they roleplay Anakin-the-handyman showing up to fix her pipes, and they're going to make it a sex thing but Threepio and Artoo interrupt because of course they do.

EDIT: OH I FORGOT ONE

Femme fatal Padme showing up at PI Anakin's doorstep looking for help with uncovering the crimes she suspects her fiance, Rush Clovis, of doing for the mob.

#star wars #anidala #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #rexanidala #captain rex #the clone wars #phoenix talks #shipping

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milkteahood · 28 days

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15 questions for 15(?) friends

Thank you for the tag @murder-hobo!

WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Ish. My parents both liked this tv celebrity, so they took inspiration.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I cry all the time. I’m a crybaby. It’s my thing

DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Nope. And don’t want any either lol

WHAT SPORTS HAVE YOU PLAYED/DO YOU PLAY? I used to do swimming and judo

DO YOU USE SARCASM? Not usually actually. I used to but I noticed not many people get it and it makes things awkward lol

FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Eyebrows

WHAT IS YOUR EYE COLOR? Turquoise

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Scary movies. All day everyday

ANY TALENTS? Nothing too special. I can learn pretty fast lol.

WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Eastern Europe

WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES? I like baking and cooking in general. Reading, writing and working out.

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? 3 dogs and 5 cats

HOW TALL ARE YOU? 5’6 ish. 169 cm

FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL? Pathology

DREAM JOB? Well, after uni, I would like to start residency in either pathology or psychiatry

No pressure tags: @stygianoir @teh-vampire-bunny @fandomhell97 @megangovier and anyone else who would like to try!

ps: forgot to reblog the main post and add mine lol. And I don’t feel like redoing the whole thing. So I will leave this as a separate post but reblogged the main too so it at least looks nice lol

#milkteas thoughts #tag games

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ninjakittycomics · 1 year

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Major Crimes (things that shoulda been)

OK.

I don’t know how to do a “under the cut”

So, if you need to avoid a spoiler for Major Crimes (which finished in 2017 or 2018, I forget... time is really mussy in my head right now)

Theeeeeeeeeeeen.... take the title and these sentences as a cue to start scrolling away to avoid it :) (i’ll also make sure to tag it as such)

ON THAT NOTE, let’s roll. Spudmeisterin and I were talking about the ending, and how bloody bad/lazy writing it was. so here’s some points we came up with.

(i realize they wanted to be dramatic and surprising, but they missed the mark) What would be more surprising, is if they allowed Sharon Raydor to retire happily. (because killing women for people’s pain so they can finish the impossible task, as well as “close to retirement so must die” and also “i’m happy/just married so must die” tropes are just....so rife. just soooo rife)

SO.

In my mind, she did.

She had the same heart thing (ouch) cuz, let’s face it... life can do that. Whether or not she needed the transplant or was put on a pacemaker and a severe restriction on her job choices/retirement choices, I’ll leave that up to you.

Either way, she’s out for that part of the season. The rest of the team nails Stroh the cartoon villain serial killer. yada yada.

They come back to her hospital room after Stroh is shot. Andy is there, as well as Provenza, Julio, Rusty, and Amy.

Sharon is like, “did you get him?” (meaning, did you catch the bastid etc)

Provenza does his little...kinda look down sheepish and is like, captain we had to shoot him. I shot him.

And Andy chimes in like, “really, he totally did it”.

Which causes Sharon to do that all knowing, “Mmm.”

(she knows that Provenza didn’t do it, but she doesn’t care. Stroh is done, everyone’s healthy/safe/accounted for.)

they do the usual happy banter, then the nurse is like, she’s still got a long road to recovery, everyone out, she needs rest.

Sharon Raydor retires Officially. (so does Andy) They had some awful close calls, and they want to enjoy their worlds, and the time they have left.

That doesn’t mean that they don’t do occasional consulting (kinda like alexa crowe in “my life is murder”)

It should be noted that Provenza is unlikely to retire until he literally cannot anymore.. He’s absolutely running the Major Crimes unit.

Rusty becomes a proper DA (working with Hobbs, instead of just interning)

Sharon and Andy embarrass (cutely) the hell out of Rusty at his wedding. (i can’t decide if he gets back together with Gus, or he finds someone else along his healing journey. The writers really just flung their story all over the place)

anyhoo. it’s cute. much goofy dancing.

Provenza gives Best man speech, and Rusty hides his face in his hands on the table.

(ooo. the night before, part of the bachelor party, the gang goes axe throwing. Julio and Amy clean up on the bets (but which one wins between them?)

Some times, Sharon, Andy, Rusty, his hubs, Provenza and Patrice, go to disneyland. it’s a retiree thing/family thing. They love the really freaking weird rides. Patrice has a special hat made for Provenza saying “Louie”. He grumbles at first, but accepts that He’s wearing it, because Patrice is wearing hers ^,^

He won’t go to Disneyworld though, because California is superior (or he’s a grump, it’s hard to say which)

and because it sounds about right to me, Sharon and Andy make it somewhere into their 80′s.

If anyone else wants to add to some of the ridiculous antics, feel free. And spuds, I think i forgot a point or two, feel free to add ^,^

#major crimes #major crimes spoilers #Sharon Raydor #Rusty Beck #Andy Flynn #Provenza #Julio Sanchez #Amy Sykes #Patrice Perry #Patrice and Provenza

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barbiewritesstuff · 1 year

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Strauss blocked: Part 3

Ngl I wrote it at 3am yesterday but I kinda like it so i hope you do too :)

Thank you to @Igg5989 for beta reading this (why can't I tag you) and @ravensmadreads for the inspo as usual :D

TW: gunshot, bloodloss, age gap relationship, employee-boss relationship

Previous Part

“We’re not going home just yet,” Hotch announced before breakfast was even finished. He’d left the table twenty minutes ago to take a phone call from JJ and from the looks of it, whatever Hell you had just stepped out of with Avery Watts, you were about to step back in with another unsub, “Wheels up in an hour. I need to speak with reception, if someone could bring my bags down, I’d be grateful,” he added, looking around the table. You looked down at your half eaten plate of pastries and pancakes and sighed. Perhaps Strauss was right since she seemed to be backed by the universe, pancakes for breakfast clearly wasn’t a good choice. The only consolation was that everyone else left the table looking just as dejected as you.

You separated from the group at the lifts, your fear of enclosed spaces and severe vertigo not allowing you to take the elevator up with them, and climbed the stairs to reach your room. As soon as you stepped in and threw your phone into the bedsheets, it buzzed. You sighed, digging through duvet, flat sheets and blankets to find the device. Unlocking it, you saw a text from Hotch.

Hotch: “How about I take you out to dinner tonight?”

His text was quickly followed by another one.

Hotch: “I want to take you out on a date, to start this relationship off right.”

Your heart skipped a beat and butterflies fluttered in your stomach. It was one thing that Aaron wanted to take you out on a date, but the fact that he seemed intent on having a relationship with you was something completely different. Hotch had been resistant to the idea of getting back into the dating scene again after the divorce, despite Rossi, Morgan and Emily’s insistence that it might be good for him. The fact that he had chosen you to try settling down again with felt like something huge for the both of you.

You: “Relationship?”

You asked, half teasingly and half seriously, subconsciously giving him a chance to change his mind and realise he’d made a mistake.

Hotch: “Unless that’s not what you want?”

Hotch: “I’m sorry if I misread the situation.”

You: “No, you didn’t. I want a relationship with you”

You assured him, resisting the urge to add “I’m just surprised you’d pick me,” and immediately betray your low self esteem issues.

Hotch: "Good. I'll leave you to pack your bags, see you on the jet"

He replied, quickly followed by another message.

Hotch: ":)"

You smiled at your phone, slightly surprised by the message. Even though by all accounts you had just agreed on a relationship with Hotch, knowing he sent emojis felt like forbidden knowledge, much like knowing he was a giggly drunk. And yet, you couldn't help but wonder what other things you might discover about Aaron.

----

The jet landed in Dallas, leaving you on the tarmac to wait for the FBI’s unmarked SUV’s to arrive. Delays had been caused by rain and, like your father always used to say, the people of Texas forgot how to drive the minute a drop fell from the sky. Once they did arrive, you all piled up into the passenger seats for a half-hour drive down to Waxahachie.

Although it wasn’t technically your home town, you had lived there long enough to know it like the back of your hand, you had spent many hours as a child, sitting in the back of your grandfather’s truck, running errands and visiting friends. You hadn’t been in a very long time but as the SUV drove around the streets towards the hotel, you were happy to see that not much had changed. Most of the shops you knew still thrived, kept by the same people and when you set foot inside the police station you realised the same thing was true there too.

It seemed, however, like most of the officers either didn’t care or didn’t recognise you. They begrudgingly cleared a table for you and the team to set up shop at, and wheeled out a whiteboard with a single pen at the order of their sheriff and left you to work without so much as an acknowledgement. The rest of the team seemed jarred by this, but you welcomed their cold indifference, the last thing you needed was a crowd of acquaintances to witness you performing at a subpar level.

“All victims were shot in their cars in the middle of the night, no witnesses saw the crime happen but all of the murders happened in residential areas so we have plenty of people to corroborate the TOD,” Spencer summarised, looking at the whiteboard the Waxahachie Police Department had provided, which he had already filled with the minuscule amount information you possessed on the unsub., “We don’t know how he’s getting them to stop, how he’s picking them or why…”

“What can we tell about him?” Hotch asked, coming to stand next to Reid with a mug of coffee and a cup of tea for the doctor.

“Well, I think it’s safe to assume he’s an organised offender,” Derek said, starting off, “His murders seem to be planned, he targets victims in cars while they’re going through residential areas. Three out of the five victims were found in wealthier parts of towns where drifters would be noticed so he’s finding ways to pull them over. Maybe he’s pretending he’s hurt or asking for directions, I don’t know, but he’s got a diversion. He’s in control.”

“Yes, and when we look at the crime scenes, the bodies are in such positions that it appears they were shot at roughly the same time. He’s efficient. The entire murder can’t last much longer than a few minutes and while he’s doing them out in the open he is keeping some control by only killing at night when no one can see him,” Spencer added

“He’s a product killer. The fact that the entire crime doesn’t last long means he’s not enjoying the process much. We know he’s stealing his victim’s ID’s after the crime, so he’s taking trophies and the fact that he kills only in residential areas makes me think he enjoys the attention the bodies gather,” you added, voice shaking as you explained your reasoning.

“Good,” Hotch said, “I’m going to call Garcia to see if she can link our victims somehow, in the meantime, see what else you can find about him. Keep up the good work.”

You exhaled, the stress of your public contribution leaving you as soon as Hotch had praised you. Spencer came up behind you, squeezing your shoulder slightly, “Good work,” he repeated.

“Alright you two, keep at it, I’ll be back. I’m going to talk to the detective, see if we haven’t got a trail of escalation,” Derek said, tearing himself away from the slow progress of the profiling whiteboard.

You turned to Spencer, “Am I that transparent?” you asked.

Spencer looked uneasy for a moment, “No,” he replied too quickly, “Hotch told me you tried to quit. He came to my room this morning while we were packing.”

“Oh fantastic,” you huffed

“You could have told me, I would have helped,” Spencer said, “I can still help,” he said, almost pleading.

You forced yourself to look into his eyes, confronting the emotions you knew you’d find there. Your friendship, although unlikely on the surface, had been built on a mutual and unspoken feeling of being the odd one out. Spencer was the youngest one and by far the smartest one, he had graduated high school at twelve years old and his eidetic memory enabled him to retain volumes of information and statistics. You had always been an invisible part of the BAU, interning since you were old enough to pass a background check, about as recognised as a piece of furniture and just as heavily depended on until Jason Gideon plucked you out of the shadows less than a year ago. You had just graduated college with a psychology degree and passed the entrance exams to become a fully-fledged agent with flying colours. The field and exams couldn’t have been further apart, though, and you felt like you were drowning faster than anyone could throw you a lifeline.

“Okay,” you said, “Help me.”

“Okay!” he smiled, “Yes, okay, so what else can we deduce about our unsub. So far, we know he’s organised and a product killer.”

“Well, if he’s organised, then, there’s a greater chance that he can control his urges?” you asked, Spencer nodded, encouraging you to keep going, “Which means that friends and neighbours probably wouldn’t suspect him. It also means that whatever happens in his head, he can maintain a fairly calm façade. Despite the anger he’s feeling, he’s calm and collected during the murder.”

“What can you tell me about the victims of organised killers?”

“They’re the most important part of the fantasy. He’s picking them carefully because they are symbols representing something or someone from the unsub’s life that they ascribe particular meanings to,” you said, thinking back on everything you had learnt.

“That’s very good,” Spencer said, “This all means that the victims are linked, we just need to find out how… You know what I don’t understand?” he asked, you shook your head, waiting for him to speak, “Organised killers usually restrain their victims… he doesn’t seem to be doing that.”

“They all still have their seatbelts on,” you said, “And they’re in a car.”

“He’s picking pre-packaged, pre-restrained victims,” Spencer repeated, adding it to the white board, “I bet that cuts down time too. He’d have to be looking at his victims for a minimum amount of time too, to make sure they do wear their seatbelts, so he can’t just be meeting them at the time of the murder.”

While you were working, a crowd of officers had formed. You recognised some of them, a fair few had been in your class in middle school and a larger amount of them were acquaintances of your grandparents. They all watched the board with interest, some looking appreciative and some with a frown. Chief amongst the unconvinced stood a large balding man, expression souring with every word Spencer and you were saying.

“And this mumbo jumbo is useful, how?” the balding officer asked once he found a pause in your conversation, “You have no evidence for all of this, you’re just guessing, right?”

“Not really, it’s making educated assumptions based on psychology and certain patterns of behaviour. The definition for profiling is literally: ‘the recording and analysis of a person’s psychological and behavioural characteristics, so as to assess or predict their capabilities in a certain sphere or to assist in identifying categories of people’, in other words, profiling is a useful science that allows law enforcement to spend less time looking through wholly unnecessary pieces of information while providing police officers with a view of the style in which an unsub operates which in turn can assist in developing suspect interview strategies,” Spencer said, not really paying attention to anything but the board

“And in English that means?”

“Less work for you,” you answered, giving the man a forced smile.

“Good ‘nough for me,” he said, turning back to his desk. He sat at his desk and put his feet up, reaching for his coffee cup, “Hey princess, can I get a refill?” he shouted at you the second you turned away.

“She’s not your servant,” Spencer said, outraged on your behalf, “And don’t call her princess.”

“And what’s her pretty little name then?” he asked, sneering at you while his colleagues looked on, with bated breath to see if officer Matthews, resident dumbass, was really trying to pick a fight with an FBI agent.

“Agent,” Spencer snapped back.

“Well, Agent, can I get a refill?” Matthews asked you, leaning back into his chair to speak directly to you, leaving no one wondering who he was giving orders to.

“Sure,” Morgan replied in your place, appearing from behind a corner the second he heard Spencer snap at someone, “would you like arsenic in it too?” he asked, glaring at the man.

“Leave it Derek,” you told him, walking over to the officer and snatching the cup out of his hands, “This is why your wife left you, Roy,” you said.

You walked over to the coffee pot, debating whether to make a new one before snapping out of it and serving Matthews the tarry remains of cop shop coffee the pot held, finding satisfaction in the knowledge that what you had served him had much more in common with wet ash than an actual brew. You gave Roy his mug back, putting it down on his desk with just enough force to scare him into tipping his chair over. He pushed himself off of the floor with a grunt and stared you down.

“Enjoy,” you told him, turning hot on your heels towards the safety Derek and Spencer brought, hoping that the rapid thumping of your heart couldn’t be heard bouncing from wall to wall. You certainly felt like it did, the beating of it so strong that you could almost feel it shaking you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Morgan told you as soon as you had joined them back at the evidence board, putting himself between the rest of the police station and you in case any of them tried anything.

You sighed, “I did. Roy’s a friend of my granddad’s, I’d never have heard the end of it.”

“Please tell me you tampered with it,” Spencer mumbled, pretending to look closely at the board to avoid being heard by passing officers.

You chuckled, “You are a horrible influence, Doctor Reid."

“I can be,” he grinned

Hotch reappeared, holding an evidence box. He took in Derek’s angry face and your flushed one and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he asked

“Just f--” you started, ready to sweep it under the carpet

“One of the officers thinks Y/n’s his personal servant,” Spencer said, cutting you off, “Demanded she get him a refill of his coffee.”

Hotch’s second eyebrow shot up in pissed off surprise, “He does it again and you come and get me,” he said, “I’ll make him his coffee,” he added, sounding more sinister than any unsub ever could.

“He’s feeling protective,” Derek said, suddenly perking up, “Do you think he has a crush?”

“No,” you replied, perhaps a little too quickly

“Definitely not,” Spencer confirmed.

The day continued without much advancements or action. You spent the rest of the afternoon pouring over paperwork and evidence boxes until Rossi tapped your shoulders and told you to go back to the hotel. The only bright spot in the day was a text from Aaron, telling you where and when to meet. After that, concentrating on anything other than him proved an impossible task. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he walked by, wondering what he had planned for the evening. He caught you several times, sometimes turning the sides of his lips up in a subtle, secret smile, and sometimes shooting you a wink, reminding you that you didn't dream it all up. Hotch liked you, he wanted a relationship with you.

Your issues concentrating on anything other than your handsome boss made the day only go by slower but the end did come. You rushed up to your room as soon as you could without looking suspicious and jumped straight into the shower.

An hour later, you walked down to the lobby, feeling slightly apprehensive. Hooking up with Hotch had always felt closer to a state secret than anything else. If anyone knew, you would both have been in deep trouble. At best, he’d be throwing an illustrious career down the drain and you’d be accused of sleeping your way to the top. At worst, you would both be facing an abuse of power investigation that would paint him as a sexually coercive asshole and you an innocent victim, which neither of you were, especially since, technically, both instances of the two of you sleeping together had been initiated by you.

When you reached the reception desk you noticed Hotch, standing outside in a nice pair of slacks and a crisp white shirt. Like you, he’d had to make do with what he already had in his go bag, however, while Aaron hadn’t been able to personalise the outfit much, you had been able to change your hair up a little. On the clock you usually wore it in a tight bun, slicked back so your bang didn’t hang in front of your eyes during high pressure moments. For your date, you had gently twisted it back and fastened it with a tortoiseshell claw clip.

You walked on, getting closer to Hotch as he waited for you outside, lost in concentration as he spoke on the phone.

“What did you have for dinner?” he asked the person at the other end, “Spaghetti! That’s nice! No, I’m going for dinner now,” Hotch smiled at the phone, listening intently at what Jack was telling him, “I don’t know yet. I’m going with a friend, maybe she’ll help me decide… Her name is Y/n, she works with me. I don’t think you’ve met her before.”

You walked closer, the tentative click of your heels against the concrete floor notifying Hotch of your presence before you could speak. He turned towards you and smiled, “She’s very nice. Yes, and she’s very pretty,” Aaron turned around, badly concealing a slight blush, “I don’t know her favourite movie, do you -- yes, okay, I’ll ask,” he turned towards you, holding the phone against his chest, “Jack would like to know what your favourite film is,” he said.

You paused to think for a second, “I think I have two… I liked Spiderman, and I liked Lord of the Rings,” you answered into the phone Aaron had slightly turned to you.

He brought the device back to his ear and listened to his son speak, “Jack says I’m allowed to go out to dinner with you, apparently he was on the fence until you said you liked Spiderman.”

“Well, if the boss says we can go, why don’t we?” you smiled, throwing in a wink in the hopes that it would hide how nervous you actually were. Hotch placed a hand on your lower back, gently pushing you towards the entrance to the underground parking garage and leading you to one of the black SUV’s. You hesitated for a second, feeling funny about taking an official vehicle on a dinner date, but the feeling vanished immediately, after all, they wouldn’t really miss it. They probably wouldn’t even notice it was gone.

“I hope you don’t mind that I called you a friend,” he said, driving out of the parking lot, “It’s just, you and Jack haven’t met yet and while I want this relationship with you, I don’t want to throw him off by taking a step like that without introducing the idea to him slowly, you know?”

“No, I totally get it,” you smiled, “I will happily be your friend for as long as you like. It’s probably best if we keep things quiet anyway, if only to keep Strauss off our back,” you sighed, “Did she go back to DC? I haven’t seen her today?”

“No,” Aaron frowned, “She’s sticking with us. Apparently, she couldn’t get sufficient data on some of the team to form a satisfactory evaluation. She’s flying commercial, though, apparently she doesn’t like the jet,” he grumbled. You raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what was so bad about the FBI’s private jet that Strauss would rather fly commercial. Was it the ample leg space, comfortable seats, functional micro kitchen with a coffee and tea machine, or the rock solid internet connection that bothered her? You didn’t know, but you were thankful for it, since commercial flights meant wait times and, hopefully, delays.

By the time you had fully investigated the question and come to your conclusion, Hotch had parked the car across the street from a very nice sushi restaurant. Aaron got out of the car, jogging towards the front of the SUV.

You tried your door but it wouldn’t budge, regardless of how much you pushed or pulled. Aaron tried the handle on the other side, opening the door without any difficulty. As it swung open you saw the child safety hatch had been activated. You grinned.

“Did you put the child lock on so you could open my door?” you asked

“Yes, I did,” he grinned

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed

“I want to make a good impression,” he smiled, “I want to start this off on the right foot.”

You looked at him. You knew Hotch, he was never the kind to want to purposely make an impression. He was a strong, secure, and confident man. He believed in himself, in his morals and his values.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m nervous,” he admitted, “I haven’t been on a first date since I was… maybe sixteen,” he explained.

“It’ll be fine,” you assured him, taking his hand in yours, “We know each other, you don’t need to impress me.”

You walked into the restaurant still holding hands, enjoying how his warm palm felt against yours. Aaron led you to a small table at the front of the restaurant, near a set of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street outside. You looked at the sky, taking in the darkness and looking down, disappointed moments later.

You had lived in Waxahachie for most of your childhood, with your grandparents living only blocks away. You had gone to middle school here, and you’d returned for college, going to the Dallas campus of the Chicago School for a degree in psychology, but your heart had stayed at the ranch where your mother and sisters still lived. There, the sun beat down hard in the summer and the nights were cold in the winter. Cattles roamed the acres of land and sunrise horse rides were a near-daily occurrence. As a child, you had half-heartedly hated it, despising how far it was from civilization and the nearest mall. The only redeeming quality had been the stars you could see on clear nights. And so far, you had spent much of your adult life wishing you had committed it all to memory because the stars never seemed to shine as bright anywhere else.

“I know I don’t need to,” he said, “But I want to, like I said, I want to start this off on the right foot. I know I’m a hard-ass at work and my relationship track isn’t exactly stellar. I could have done better with Haley, regardless of the demands of the job. I wasn’t as present and I wasn’t as attentive as I should have been. I’d hate for that to be the image you have of a relationship with me.”ù

“I know how demanding the job is, Aaron, I’m not going to fault you for being involved. We see some horrific stuff in the pursuit of saving people. It’s addicting. I can’t blame you for chasing that high, especially when stuff’s not going right in your own life.”

“Life was fine,” Hotch muttered

“Was it?” you asked, “Like I said, we see some horrific stuff. I can’t remember the last time I closed my eyes and didn’t see someone lying dead in front of me. Just because you put up a good façade doesn’t mean it’s an accurate reflection of what’s going on inside of you.”

“Then are you sure you want this?” he asked.

“Are you trying to talk me out of dating you while we’re on a date?” you asked, almost laughing at the irony.

Hotch laughed, “I’m giving you an out.”

“And I’m not taking it,” you assured him, “I meant what I said yesterday. I’m in love with you. And I want this relationship if you do.”

“I do. Just… Please give me time to figure things out,” he said, looking into your eyes, “I want to be a good partner, but I think I’ve forgotten how to do that.”

“Take all the time you need,” you said.

“What about you?” he asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “What kind of dating disaster are you?”

“Me?” you asked, pretending to look offended, “No, I’m perfect, which is exactly why I’ve been single for the past eight years,” you grinned.

“Right,” he laughed, pretending to take a pen out of his pocket and writing something down on a fake notepad, “Issues admitting she is wrong… Noted.”

You opened your mouth in shock, “You are so mean,” you laughed, “But no, I don’t know. I just… It just hasn’t happened I guess.”

“I’m honoured, then,” he smiled, you looked into his eyes, losing yourself into them before being rudely jostled out of your reverie by a group of customers bumping into you, sending you flying into the table. The glassware jingled dangerously, drawing more attention to you than you would have liked.

“You really should be careful, Ma’am,” the woman whose fault it was said, looking at you and then at Hotch with a frown.

Aaron looked dumbfounded but after overcoming the brief shock of this woman’s audacity, you leaned over the table and whispered, “I thought you said Strauss hadn’t arrived yet.”

Although he tried to remain serious, his lips twitched and he busied himself by looking at the menu, studying every little detail of it with such concentration that it looked like making the right choice of sushi was a matter of life or death.

“Does sound like something she would say, doesn’t it,” he whispered back, forcing down another smile, “What sounds good to you?”

Before you could answer, a waiter appeared holding a small notepad and a black ballpoint pen, “Have you made your choice?”

You both ordered, your sushi arriving minutes later. Hotch picked up the chopsticks with ease, out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you struggle. Owning up to your terrible chopstick handling, you smiled at him.

“My coordination is horrible,” you laughed a little nervously.

“Let me --” Hotch grinned, “I’ll show you,” he grabbed your dominant hand, holding it loosely, “Relax, if you’re too tense you’ll just end up flinging food everywhere and as much as I would love to try your rolls, I’d prefer you feed it to me than throwing it at me,” he said. You looked down at where he held you and blushed. Although Aaron had touched you in much more sinful places, him holding your hand so delicately felt much more intimate than anything you had ever experienced so far, “You see that valley between your pointer finger and your thumb?” he asked, caressing the inch of skin he was talking about, “That’s where you want to put the first chopstick, you want the other end of it to balance on your ring finger. The other chopstick is going to rest in the same valley as the first one, but this one will balance on your middle finger,” he said, placing the chopsticks in your hands himself, “Your thumb’s going to come and rest against both for a better grip, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed out

“The bottom one has to remain pretty much stationary, it’s the top one that does all the heavy lifting,” he said, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“You make it very hard to concentrate,” you smiled, a little embarrassed

“I’m flattered,” he replied with a bashful smile before willing himself out of his state and turning back to the task at hand, “Show me,” he said, nodding towards your hand.

You tentatively picked up a roll and lifted it up, carrying it above Aaron’s glass of sake and your glass of soda, one hand underneath it in case it fell. Catching on to what you were doing, Hotch leant forward and opened his mouth.

“See, not that hard,” he said, after chewing through

“Maybe I just have a good teacher,” you winked

----

“How are you with horror films?” he asked, leading you out of the restaurant with one arm around your shoulder. He had gotten more relaxed as the evening went on, letting his guard down as the conversation flowed.

“I don’t mind them when I have someone to hide behind, why?” you lied

“I found a tiny theatre showing ‘Joyride’, I really wanted to see it when it came out but by the time we were back from the case, the movie theatres near the house had already stopped showing it…”

“We can go,” you replied, earning yourself a genuine Aaron smile. It had made your heart skip a beat the first time you had gotten one, and the effect had never truly worn off. You looked up to him, drinking him in. You turned around to face him, standing up to your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek, going back down to the ground before he could even react.

“What was that for?” he asked

You looked down at your feet, “I’m having fun, thank you.”

Hotch grinned. He grabbed your hand, walking you through side streets until he found the movie theatre.

It could barely be called that. The one screen was hanging off of the back of a repurposed garage, three rows of six seats filled the floor space and a coin operated popcorn machine dispensed a small bucket of salted treats for a quarter.

“Wow,” you said, “I didn’t know this place existed,” you added.

And yet, it couldn’t have been recent. The man who Aaron had bought the tickets from was nearing retirement age, he had written the purchase down in a ledger with shaky handwriting, filling in the bottom line of the middle page of the book with both your names, the tickets you had bought, whether you were adults and the time and date of you had made the purchase at. It seemed practiced. The space looked old too. While it had clearly been repainted recently, the seats were old enough that the fabric had torn where visitors would sit and slump. The bolts keeping the seats in place had rusted too and the projector screen had also seen better days. In the top left corner, it had started to tear, hanging a little lopsided. Despite all the signs of forgotten upkeep, it couldn’t have looked more welcoming and cosier. Towards the back, where Aaron was leading you to now, the chairs had been swapped for an old loveseat, the bolts and frame for the old seats still present on the ground where the metal had snapped and broken.

You sat to his right, sandwiched between Hotch’s strong frame and a thick concrete wall. It felt oddly safe. The movie started, the 20th Century fox intro making you jump slightly.

“Relax, movie’s not even started,” Aaron whispered in your ear, pulling you closely into his side, “I’ll keep you safe.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling silly that the logo had betrayed how much you truly disliked anything scarier than a scooby doo mystery.

It felt stupid to even mention, but horror films terrified you. You could just about stomach the paranormal ones, simply because you didn’t believe in ghosts or demons, but serial killer films with more gore than lines made you queasy. It felt too realistic. Especially with what you did, you never knew what might hide behind the next door you opened. It felt inescapable, inevitable and a little prophetic. You didn’t like feeling helpless or panicked, and seeing others panic or worse, coming face to face with the reality that you might not be able to save them made you nauseous.

Profiling yourself felt equally silly, but if you had to, you would probably link your overall hatred of helplessness with your near resignation from the BAU. And if you were to profile Spencer or even Hotch, you could imagine that the reason they liked horror movies so much was because they were fake. No matter how bad it got, how much blood was lost and how many dead were littering the floor, it was all fake. One google search would tell them that the actors were safe and well, divorcing from fourth wives, sending second kids to college or acting in their very first oscar nominated movies. In the end, it was all okay. Things happened, and for once, they wouldn’t have to step in and risk their lives and loved ones to take another maniac off the streets.

The fakeness of it freaked you out. It reminded you that while they pretended to die for your entertainment, someone out there was doing worse, and you were too busy eating popcorn to stop them.

Aaron must have sensed something was off. He shifted in his seat and held you tighter, “I’m here,” he whispered absentmindedly, watching as Rusty Nails, the movie’s flavour of psycho, told the two main characters to fix their broken taillight.

Despite yourself, and because of Hotch, you did actually enjoy the rest of the movie, rolling your eyes as he did when Lewis and Fuller picked up Venna, despite the deranged killer being hot on their trail and gasping in surprise when, inevitably, Venna got kidnapped.

“See, it wasn’t that bad,” Aaron said, walking next to you towards the car, “Apparently, there’s rumours they filmed other endings, but they’re only going to be released when the film comes out on dvd.”

“When’s that supposed to happen?” you asked, reaching the driver side door before Hotch could, holding out your hand for the key, “You drove here, my turn,” you said.

“Next month, I think,” he replied, jogging over to the other side and getting in.

“Perfect, that’s a date,” you grinned

Aaron chuckled, “Can I have a couple more in the meantime?” he asked

“Sure,” you replied, “But I pick the movie,” you added, turning the key in the ignition and starting the car as “A Thousand Miles” by Vanessa Carlton played on the radio.

You had barely been driving for twenty minutes when blue and red lights flashed in your rearview mirror, tearing your attention away from the road and whatever Aaron was saying. A siren started seconds later, alerting everyone in the neighbourhood of what was happening. You cringed inwardly, it was dark and well into the evening by now, people in nearby houses were sleeping and you were the reason for their sudden wake up.

“Shit,” you swore, “I didn’t think I was going too fast.”

Aaron shrugged, already leaning forward to open the glove box for the SUV’s papers. The officer got out of his car and made his way over to you. You brought the window down and waited for him to speak, documents already at the ready.

“Can I see your id and proof of insurance, please,” he asked in a deep, gravelly voice. You paused for a second, a feeling of unease washing over you. Noting your hesitation, Hotch gently tapped your elbow.

“Ma’am, ID and insurance papers, please,” the uniformed officer repeated. You finally got your arm moving, and handed him the documents, taking that time to properly look at him. While you had hoped it would ease your worries, properly taking ub his appearance only made things worse. The officer wore the correct black uniform, with badges right where they should have been, but something about the badges just looked wrong. You narrowed your eyes, trying to see the details better and suddenly, in the light of another passing car’s headlights, you saw it. The “Waxahachie Police Department” seal had been misspelt, probably by the manufacturer’s in an effort to avoid any chance of their customer being arrested for impersonating an officer, but the font had also been reduced slightly, making the mistake largely invisible.

You turned around to tell Aaron, but in your concentration on the uniform, you had missed the officer pocketing your ID’s and fishing something out of his pocket. You immediately felt a funny force driving you back into your seat, accompanied by a loud bang echoing through the night, switching out for a terrible ringing as soon as it subsided.

“Shit,” Aaron swore, immediately diving towards you, for some reason bringing both of his hands towards you.

“Did we get hit?” You asked, trying to turn around to see if someone had hit the back of the SUV, Hotch tried to wrestle you back against your seat.

“Don’t move,” he pleaded,

“Did we get hit?” You asked again,

“Please don’t move, he --”

“Aaron, they might need help --”

A second loud bang echoed tore through the night and Aaron flew back. You looked at him, certain that no one had driven into the back of you now, as you hadn’t felt the jolt. With growing horror, you looked down at his middle, his white shirt now turning redder with every second. One of his hands moved to cover his wound, shaking as more blood bubbled through the shirt.

An overwhelming pain shot through you so powerfully that it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You looked down to your own middle and breathed a sigh of relief. There was no wound to be seen and when you patted your stomach, the pain didn’t get any worse. It was only when Aaron’s unoccupied hand moved to press down on your chest that you realised, with horror, why the pain seemed so much worse with every intake of breath.

The realisation seemed to take the fight out of you. While you had felt high enough on adrenaline to run a triathlon seconds ago, reaching up to touch your own chest seemed a Herculean task but, wondering how bad things actually were, you did so anyway, feeling around until you reached the bullet hole. You were by no means a doctor, but a gun shot so close to the heart didn’t inspire much trust in your survival.

You looked at Aaron, frantically looking around for a way to stop your bleeding and call the emergency services without letting go of his own wound, and you felt strangely calm. He’d been shot in the guts, survival chances were much higher and in that moment, you couldn’t think of better news. Aaron would live.

“You’re going to be okay,” you said, trying to smile, covering his hand with your own. You squeezed it slightly, using all the strength you had left, before the world grew dark and the pain faded.

#fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction

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ndostairlyrium · 10 months

Text

✨ Self Rec Tag Game✨

I was tagged by the creator of the tag game herself, @shivunin and I'm terribly sorry if I came back to it super late ;; it was super fun looking at what others made with it tho <3 people are so talented!!

Rules: Share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.). Then, tag five more people to share the things they've made.

Something you absolutely adore

Something that was challenging to create

Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably)

Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.)

Something you want other people to see

For those I'll tag: categories aren't necessary, "they're more guidelines than rules" (cit. @shivunin)

I may have broken the rules because I'm chronically undecided << hopefully it's fine sorry in advance

Something you absolutely adore

I just... I'm into chill and comfy vibes <<' These three together bring me so much joy, like, I remember reading all their interactions on the wikia and smiling like an idiot because I wished that all of it was more blatant rather than "yea there's a 3% chance you'll get this interaction in game"

Something that was challenging to create

Probably the first batch from everything-else-but-Inktober 2020. I decided to drop the idea of messing with inks and straight up exercised on things I usually fail at / wanted to improve. The whole challenge was, well, a challenge. I remember struggling from day 1 to 30 because I'm terrible at studies, I tend to filter and filter and filter and... But I like the results!! Far from perfect, but I've learnt big deal through it ;; If you're interested, here's the links to the instagram posts: Weeks 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably)

I can't decide! Aaaaaargh Here, have a multitude of things that make me crack a smile :'D

...I wanted to add more but I don't wanna make another monsterpost :'D

Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.)

This fanart of Ophélie from Le Passe Miroir, which I'm very proud of ;; I know it doesn't seem like a huge accomplishment or an art megazord, but I was very in my head before opening Photoshop but during the process, when I realized I was doing exactly what I pictured beforehand, I just couldn't stop being proud of myself lol which is something I don't experience a lot :'''

Also this comm I did for @n7viper that made me say "oh, you can handle this" This was quite the experience ;; thanks again for letting me work on this dude <3 I started with a greyscale then added colors, which is a technique I used some times and like, I was sure it was challenging because it's super hard to balance everything out, but when things came out exactly how I wanted them to be?? Woah, alright Picasso, slay

Something you want other people to see

-My dwarven ladies 🧔✨

you can check it out here

-The things I'm doing for this artfight lol I think I leveled up in some cases 👌

These are previews, everything will be posted in this blog, my artblog, insta, twitter etc etc

-The collabs and trades I made with some of the most talented people I know and cherish ;;

Like this one amongst the many I did with @greypetrel who dragged me back into Lord of the Rings after years and I'll be forever thankful for that ;; but also for the experience <3

Or these ones I did with @underneathestars Plus our joint effort for last year's N7 Day: her post - my post That was a challenge and your girls served 💅

Also This!!! Courtesy of @demandthedoodles This was like, one of the funniest - yet astounding - outcomes from a sketch I almost forgot I made lol I need to print this out when I can!

I would include all of them, because I traded art and collaborated with people I really appreciate but I can't possibly include other things ;; I'll mass reblog / share them in the next days!

Also, thanks again @shivunin for this tag game ;; I discovered things I've never seen from people I follow and found out awesome new things from people I didn't follow already. So super fun <3

I'm tagging (no pressure, no commitment): @n7viper @underneathestars @qwib @skeltrr @lethalhoopla @kassarts @aukanemin @ii-then @daggerbean @vaesivlasta @sparatus

#long post #tag game #self rec tag game #ndo sta l'art tag #of course I did a monsterpost siigh #listen I'm easily entertained when it comes to shitposting I had to spam :'#no I didn't have to but I did it anyway because I have no self control #I didn't include fics tho <<#I need to stop tweaking this post gdi

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that-one-anxious-mango · 1 year

Note

Heyyy ☺️ I love this series sooo much, it is so nice to see Austin stories that involve a black reader. Not having to edit the story in my head to make it fit me is wonderful 🥰. For your Drabble event could you do either first date or a special date that they have had? Thank you 💕 💕

20 Questions.

Summary: It’s a in-house date night with Austin and his best girl. Where you get to know them and they get to know each other!

Contents: Fluff ofc! Mentions of deceased relatives. Little angst if you squint. Slight steaminess. Austin and his best girl being the cutest.

A/N: Hi Beautiful Humans! It’s me! I hope y’all of you are having a wonderful time. Just wanted to go ahead and drop this off for you guys and also give some special shout-outs to:

@pennyroyalcreep for not only this lovely prompt, but also for your continued love and support with my work. ❤️

@purejasmine one of the sweetest people I know and a absolutely amazing writer. Thanks for always supporting and creating.

I also wanna thank @adoreyouusugar , @denised916, and @homebodybirkin2003 whose comments never cease to make me smile.

And to everyone else who I may have missed. THANK YOU. I truly appreciate it.

Moving on I am also officially starting a tag list. As I plan to upload some things this week. So if you’d like to be added please leave a :) in the comments.

Thank you all!

P.S Everyone feel free to PLEASE comment and reblog. Also send me letters with idea and prompts. Love hearing from you all. Much love! * hugs*

-------

Today was Friday.

Which also meant it was date night.

And with it being quite gloomy outside for the usual LA weather the two of you had decided that it'd be the perfect day to have a in-house date night. You insisted that tonight you would to try and cook for your man a simple meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup.

A skeptical but supportive Austin would go on to happily watch you not only blacken all attempts at the grilled cheese, but also burn the poor tomato soup that you forgot to add enough water to.

And once the tears started rolling, in real Austin fashion he'd wrapped you in a blanket and placed you on the couch promising to return. After cleaning up your food fail he pulled out all the ingredients he needed and made a hell of a good pan of pasta.

After some feeding, cuddling, finger fucking , and napping. The two of you had decided that a more PG-13 activity was in order. With that you suggested a game that you'd been wanting to play with Austin for a while. Let's get deep: 20 question edition.

" Okay. Here we go, number one." You listened to Austin while you giggled staring down at the stacks of cards in front of you and then back up at Austin, who looked on in amusement. " What movie was so sad that you would never watch it again? " He asked.

" Mmmm." You thought for a minute, there were plenty but really you could only narrow it down to two, " I think I would definitely have to say either Dumbo or Fruitvale Station. I can't choose. You can only watch both once." You affirmed.

" Watching Dumbo is a traumatizing experience that no child of any age should be subjected to at all. Like just the first thirty minutes was enough for me to need a lifelong therapist. And as far as Fruitvale Station goes...I feel that the content overview speaks for itself. It's a beautiful movie, but I could barely make it through til the end." You explained.

Austin nodded, " I seen Dumbo a long time ago when I was little and all I remember is this very strong urge to go hug my mom after watching. " He said making you smile, " But I haven't seen Fruitvale Station. No particular reason why, it's just never happened."

" Understandable." You nodded reaching to grab another card off one of the piles.

" My turn. Two. What's the weirdest thing you find attractive in a person?" You moved your eyes to look at him in curiosity.

Almost immediately he said, " People who floss."

Amused in question you went, " Really? Why? "

" Yeah. I don't know. But in a weird way to me. It shows that you care about yourself. Like babe, do you know how many people don't floss. Ever." He explained.

And the more you thought about it, he was right. Gross.

But lucky for you, you didn't have that problem seeing as your upbringing had made you a bit of a dental freak. So you hit all the points in that department.

" Yeah. I guess I see your point. " You said just as a thought passed in your mind, " So, do you find it attractive when I floss." You goofed biting a bit of your upper lip.

Laughing at you he leaned over to plant a hardy peck to your lips, pulling away to say, " Makes my dick jump every time, sweetheart." He half whispered sending the two of you into a short fit of laughter.

" Alright alright alright. Next. Three. " He moved to pick up a card, " Describe our relationship in three words." He asked.

Even though you had to think a bit, it didn't take you long before you had your three words, " Meaningful.....Honest.... Adaptive. " You answered.

Eyes glimmering in happiness and satisfaction Austin questioned, " I know these are suppose to be short but, care to elaborate please."

" Well, I feel it's meaningful because literally almost everything we do has some type of meaning behind it. Like when you got me the fern. Or when I gave you the blanket. There's always some type of love behind everything. Plus you mean so much to me and in-turn I mean so much to you, which I guess in general terms makes us meaningful..right?" You giggled trying your best to explain your thoughts in the best way you could.

But Austin understood what you meant, he felt his heart swelling bigger and bigger by the moment, " I see. So what about honest?"

" I feel our relationship is also built around honesty. I know I've told you this before but throughout my life I've encountered a great deal of liars and that's something that I really didn't wanna come into my adult life with. Unavoidable I know. And especially in a relationship. " You began, " But with you, from the day that we sat down, listening to you be so open and honest with me when at the time I was just a complete stranger to you. It made me feel something. And from then on I've never ever had to second guess anything or feel like your keeping things from me. It's refreshing and I value that." You explained.

Austin listened intently thinking back to the first hours the two of you had spent together talking after he'd finished reading you the book. Hearing you talk about how surprised you were hearing Austin talk the way he did shocked him a bit. He hadn't really ever realized just how personal the two of you had gotten in that short amount of time. But to him now, that was just proof that this was something special from the start.

" And finally I think we're adaptive because whether it be your schedule or mine that keeps up from doing traditional couples stuff. We make it work. We adapt to whatever challenge we face together. And that's important." You finished offering a smile.

Austin return your feeling of content displaying a smile of his own. He was so happy to be with you. And to be building the kind of relationship where it's foundations were things like these. Things that would help the two of you last, because all in all. That was goal.

" I think all of that is really accurate and beautiful, mama. I love you." He said reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips and press a gentle kiss to it.

" I love you, Aus." You returned reaching that same hand to palm his cheek.

The two of you continued your little moment before moving forward.

" Number four. Name something that you wish you could do but can't." You asked.

Teasing Austin said, " Gain the ability to say no to you."

You rolled your eyes playfully. " Be serious, Austin."

Laughing some more he says, " I am being serious, woman. You have no idea the power you hold over me. It's like you just know all you have to do is bat those pretty lashes at me and say please, to turn me into a sucker." He informed.

Your smile widen, " Really? "

Austin nodded leaning back against the couch, " Awe don't be coy. Really, mama."

You sounded a ' Hmmph '.

" Well I'll just have to keep that in mind then, huh?" You said shooting him a glance.

Smirking he replied, " Don't go getting too many good ideas."

" I won't."

With that he leaned up to send a squeeze to your thigh before reaching and grabbing another card.

" Mm. This is a good one." Austin's lips twitched up into a smirk while he shot you a look.

" Oh god." You laughed rolling your eyes, " Dare I ask? "

" Yes, please dare." He wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed, " Go ahead then."

" Five, If there's a particular part of you I should touch to get you in the mood. Where would it be?" He questioned.

Playfully humming while placing your pointer finger to the corner of your lips, the curiosity of wanting to know where he thought it was himself popped in," Before I answer where do you think it is, Mr. Butler?"

" Well, honey." He sighed leaning back against the couch," Based on months of bountiful research and exhausting observations. I'd have to say it'd be your neck."

Dammit.

He was right. You loved when he touched your neck. It always left you breathless in more ways than one.

" You sure, " You challenged figuring to keep your cool," Because if I recall your always touching my thighs."

And it was true. If the two of you were laying down to read or watch a movie Austin either had to have his head rested in your lap or hands stuffed between the crevices of your thighs. In the car, Austin only drove with his left hand because his right was specially reserved for your thigh. Whenever your being a little bratty or you say something about yourself that Austin isn't fond of, you better believe he is going to send a good little pinch to your thigh before kissing the spot all better.

" That's because their my particular part of you that gets me in the mood." He informed looking at you while gliding a singular finger up your thigh to the hemline of the shorts you wore. Still never dropping eye contact he continued, " But I know it's your neck because whenever we make love and I run my hand across your neck or decide to take a good little grip on it. That my love, is when you come for me the hardest." He finished.

By now that same finger had turned into a full hand that had found it's way up to get a nice gentle but firm hold on your neck. He softly used it to pull you to him and place a nice sloppy kiss to your lips making a moan release from your throat.

Pulling back he let go with a smug grin on his face to your annoyed but disheveled expression before motioning for you to draw a card while you tried to collect yourself.

Once you had settled the waves below, you a bit shakily grab the next card, clearing your throat, " Okay. Six. What is one activity that makes you feel alive?"

Without a doubt Austin knew his answer, " Easy. Horseback riding. Nothing like making that bond with a horse, the trust you build with them is pure. And then being out and open with nature. Clearing your mind and body. It's refreshing." He explained. " I think that's why filming The Shannara Chronicles was one of my favorite projects so far." He furthered grabbing a sip of the Yerbamate on the table.

" Yep and I'll have to take your word for it, babe." You quickly chirped making Austin sigh.

Ever since you and Austin had stumbled on the topic of horseback riding one day and you had revealed to him that while you thought horses were absolutely majestic and beautiful from a distance, under no circumstances would you ever consider getting on one. Period. And to him this was a great injustice...almost as big as when you told him you didn't like PB & J's.

You shuddered at the thought.

" Baby for the thousandth time. I'm telling you it's not as scary as you think it is. And you won't know until you try it. That thing with the girl was just a freak accident. That's a exception." Austin tried to argue but still you just shook your head unphased. You knew what you'd witnessed all those years back and you were good.

" Austin." You started, " The poor girl broke her back and part of her collarbone after one of them threw her off and fell on her. I seen it happen. It's like he WWE smushed her ass on the ground." You recalled watching a friend of a friend in high-school's scary interaction with the creature. It was terrifying. " Plus I'm pretty sure that she wasn't exactly ever the same in the membrane after that either." You added thinking about some of the antics the girl had gotten into post injury.

Austin blew out a breath, " Honey, while I think the situation is terrible. I'm pretty sure there was other factors that went into the happening. But I'm telling you that it's not normally like that. You just have to trust yourself and the horse."

Hearing him you still you were unchanged and really wanting to chance the topic so you came up with the compromise, " Okay okay okay. I hear you, Aus. And I'll think about it some more okay." You suggested shooting him a look to send the message that you were ready to move on.

Taking the hint he settled for what you were giving with a somber smile and moved to pick up another card, " So the next one is a little heavier, if that's alright?" Austin questioned staring down at the card.

Feeling like you could fully trust him you nodded, " Go head, babe." You prompted preparing yourself.

" Seven, in your opinion which is worse. Emotional or physical cheating? " He asked looking directly into your eye line.

" Oh." You spoke. It wasn't like you couldn't answer or that this wasn't something the two of you hadn't discussed. It was just a bit of a uncomfortable topic was all.

" Well being honest..." You trailed looking over to his face that was locked in on yours.

" Yeah." Austin encouraged.

Taking a second to collect your thoughts you began, " Like I said before, cheating no matter what is a deal breaker for me. But, being honest I think their equally as bad in opinion. I know anyone can argue it anyway. But the way I see it is that it takes something emotional in the first place to drive someone to cheat physically. I feel like if we're in a exclusive relationship where we're trusting and committing our bodies to only each other and you go and share that part of you with someone else it's a betrayal. And same thing with emotional. If we're in a relationship and I'm giving my all to let you know that there isn't anything that you should feel like you can't come to me about, and you still go and share those parts with someone else. That's also pretty bad so..." You finished looking him directly in eye.

Austin nodded taking in what you were saying completely. This wasn't his first time hearing you express your expectations when it came to this type of dishonesty, but it was good to hear again all the same, " I hundred precent agree with everything you've said. And vice versa over here. I think our communication is good enough to where we can communicate our needs effectively to each other. But I still want you to know that we're never going to get to that point, honey. That's one of the reasons that ring is on your finger. It's a promise." Austin sincerely confessed making your heart expand.

You peaked down at the promise ring on your finger and then back at Austin.

" I know."

" Good."

" Alrighty moving on. Eight. Is applesauce suppose to be warm or cold? " You posed.

" Cold." Austin immediately responded, " That's the only right answer."

You nodded, " I whole-heartedly agree. And I'm glad to know that you aren't a nutjob. "

" Noted. Next." Austin laughed picked up a card, " Nine. What is something that you wanna like but just can't? "

You sighed in faked despair, " Saunas. I really wanted to be that girl. The insta-fit chick that has the whole sauna self care bit going. But I realized how much I really don't like being sweaty unless absolutely necessary. " You informed to a smirking Austin.

Before he could open his mouth you reiterated, " I SAID ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY."

His hands shot up in defense while he snickered, " All I was going to ask was if you wanted to get sweaty later. But seeing as that wouldn't be absolutely necessary. I guess not." He shrugged.

Smacking your teeth you grabbed a pillow to childishly toss at Austin while you tell him that getting sweaty with him will always be absolutely necessary in your book. " I'll hold you to that." He says shooting you the infamous look.

" Look forward to it. But first we have to finish this before we start something else, " You remind him picking up a new card, " Ten. Name the most fond memory you have with your moth-" You stopped mid- question instantly regretting asking, you hadn't meant to bring it up. Idiot.

Quickly you tried to shift and grab another card while shooting him a sympathetic look, " I'm sorry, babe. I- I should have read the card in my head before I read it out lo-"

But he halted your movement softly grabbing your hand, " It's okay It's alright, B-"

" No, Austin it's not I sho-"

" You should just go ahead and let me answer. I promise it's okay. Matter of fact..I want to." He said holding your eye contact to show you he was sincere until you agreed leaning back.

" I know I've said this in interviews before, but growing up not to faraway from Disney and Knotts Berry, my mom and I would go all the time. Finish all my homework earlier in the day and then drive over. We used to spend hours riding the rides or just sitting on the park benches and talking. Because I was so shy and homeschooled on top of it she was bestfriend. I could sit and talk to her about anything....God I miss her." Austin reminisced bringing a smile to his face. You could see the tears forming in his eyes and in return yours did the same.

Instinctively you reached out to him which he accepted offering you a spot on his lap.

You held onto him in silence drinking in his warmth and touch while enjoying the quiet comfort you were offering through the silent intimacy. The two of you stayed just like that for awhile. Your head against his chest listening to the melody of his heartbeat and feeling the weight of his head rested on yours. His hands ran up and down your spine gripping and rubbing.

You felt oddly harmonious with each other.

The two of you stayed like that before you let go when the brilliant idea of desert popped in your mind. Remembering that Beatrice had dropped off a royal raspberry drizzle cheesecake. You went to the kitchen coming back with two plates carrying carefully sliced pieces. You were sure this would lighten the mood.

Austin smiled taking his plate and offering you a " Thank you, baby." And a kiss to the temple.

From there you resumed your game.

" Eleven. What is the most precious or important thing you own? " Austin asked before taking the bite of cheesecake you were offering.

" Um. " You sounded setting the desert plate on the coffee table, " Well, babe. I'm gonna have to cheat a little bit." You confessed.

" Oh. How's that." Austin inquired.

" I'm gonna have to list some things." You confirmed.

Smiling Austin says, " I'll allow it."

" Good. Okay so the most precious and important things I own in no particular order is my promise ring, the blanket my mom made me, our fern, my mother's ring, and my lucky smiley hat." You listed.

" You know I love when you wear that hat." He laughed, " You always look so cute. Remember when you wore it when we went to go see the jazz band in the park. Everyone tried to steal it off of you."

" Yeah it was quite interesting. Having to fight off people with John Coltrane playing in the back."

" But anywho. Twelve, If we were role playing. What would you dress me up as? " You bite your lip waiting on his response. You were extremely curious to hear his answer.

You had to adjust yourself a little bit as you felt the gates to your 'oasis' starting to open up even more than earlier from the way he was looking at you.

" Honestly? " Austin's eyebrow raised.

" Of course. Wouldn't want it any other way." You responded.

" Well, even though it may sound cliché. In my younger years," He laughed, " The whole French maid thing intrigued me for a bit."

Your mouth twitched in a smile, " Know what. I'm not surprised. That checks out."

" What?! What's that suppose to mean? "

You laughed at his playfully offended expression while he clutched his chest, " It means that you seem like a french maid kind of man, babe. Classy. You already have this old school charm to you. So it's on-brand that you'd be into that." You elaborated.

He looked at you a second before saying a simple, " Thats fair. "

Tilting his head at you he continued, " So, if a little french maid outfit just happened to appear in your size around here somewhere. And I called to say my office may need some dusting...would you be willing to oblige." He suggested leaning over and biting at his lip.

You leaned in and said, " Oui."

He groaned and blushed a bit in response moving to grab another card only to laugh when he read it, "Right on topic. Thirteen. How many children do you want someday? "

" Um...uh..well it really depends. When I was younger I always wanted to be like cheaper by the dozen or the mine, yours, and ours family. " You giggled thinking about how you wanted a brood of children to homeschool, make three meals a day for, and be driven absolutely crazy by. But as you got older and life took it's fuzzy fun filter off and you began seeing the true colors of the world, that life started to seem less and less ideal.

You caught Austin's face which was mixed with curiosity and glee. Even though you guys had had some conversations here and there that involved kids he'd never heard this from you before. He was intrigued, "Seriously you wanted twelve kids. You with twelve kids?" He repeated for emphasis.

You laughed, " Yeah. Believe it or not. I like kids and I love my nieces and nephews even though I don't get to see them as much as I'd like. So, in a perfect fantasy world. But being realistic though. I think I would like two or four. I wanna have enough but not too many to where I won't have the energy or the time to give them all as much equal time and attention." You explained.

" I get that. And I like that it's even numbers. So no one will ever be left out of games and they'll be able to pair up when we go out to fairs or do activities." He added with a gleam in his eye.

Austin couldn't lie and say that hadn't thought of what life would be like settling down with you and hearing little footsteps roam the halls. Some could say it was too soon to be thinking about things like that, but he couldn't help. You made him want a future with you.

And vice versa.

" Exactly. Don't want anyone getting lonely." You agreed trying to play off the blush that had captured your face. You pulled a card, " Fourteen. What's your favorite thing about me?" You asked.

" There's so many different things, honey." Austin sighed trying to rack his brain to be able to just pick one thing, and then he said it, " Your unflinching ability to be kind to everyone."

Your twisted up your face, " Really, you think so? "

It wasn't like you were saying that you thought you were mean. I mean sure you did your best to try and be nice and kind to everyone you came across, but you weren't the type to just stick that label to yourself.

" YES REALLY. " Austin emphasized, " You'd literally give anyone the clothes off your back and shoes off your feet. You never cease to amaze me with the grace you have with people even when they don't deserve it. Especially in that situation with the Paps the other week. I know it took a lot not to respond to the name calling and picking but you just kept going and even told the man to have ' a blessed day'." Austin recalled the icky interaction you'd had with paparazzi while out with some friends.

Shaking your head you waved him off, " I just do what I was raised to do. It's a natural thing. Can't sweat that." You said.

And that's exactly what I want you to teach our children. Austin thought.

" Yeah, babe. I know. But it still adds to your amazingness. " He concluded picking a card, " Alright. Fifteen. Where is somewhere you've always wanted to go, but never been? "

Your answer was almost instant, " Italy."

Austin blinked fast smiling, " That was fast."

You shyly grinned, " Yeah I know. I didn't mean to say it that fast but that's my number one. I've just always been fascinated by the food and culture. And I really feel like I wanna go and immerse myself in it. Ya' know experience it for myself." You told him of your dream.

It was true too. You could see yourself having authentic pasta and taking walks along the rivers. Finally trying pure gelato. Visiting different museums and taking rides on the gondola. It might sound like cliché tourist behavior but you wanted it all.

Austin was taking note of how you lit up while talking about the idea of visiting and decided to slip that note into his pocket for later.

Once you'd finished your mini ranting you picked a card, " Sixteen. Name something that you're weirdly good at? "

Austin noodled on the question. Then you watched him grab one of the unused napkins as he started to twist and pinch it in his hands.

Curious you asked, " What're you doing, my sweet baboo? "

Feeling fuzzy at the name he responded, " You'll see. Just wait a second, honey."

So waited and watched him. You found it cute how concentrated he looked.

And before you knew it. He was handing you a beautifully crafted rose napkin.

" Awe Austin." You gushed. " It's so cute. How'd you learn to do that? "

" Ah'. It's just something I randomly picked up once. But I think I've gotten pretty good at it over the years." He said.

" I hope you know I'm going to force you to do this with all our napkins now, right." You teased.

" That's fine. Anything for you, mama." He moved closer to you now wrapping a arm around you.

You didn't know why but him saying that, had made something jump in you. Something hot.

And the closer he got, the more you looked at his face. And the more you looked at his face, the more you wanted to sit on it.

Not being able to help yourself you managed to move in and capture your his lips with yours. They were always so soft.

After a minute almost reluctantly he pulled back catching apart of his breath, " Woah, Mama. Wait a minute. As much as I'd love to keep going. Don't you still wanna finish the game first? " He asked cupping your face with a hand.

"Nope." You popped the P, " Not really." You spoke before pulling him back in. He groaned in your mouth at the added friction you brought by started to grind slowly into his lap.

Still once more he found the strength to move away, " You sure?"

You nodded, but just then a funny little tease came to mind, " Know what. Actually, I do have one last question honey." You said running your against his cheek.

" Go for it, darling."

" Final question. What's your favorite sex position." You questioned positioning yourself up some more. You could see the fire dancing in his eyes and from the way he licked his lips you were sure there were fiery thoughts that accompanied them.

He sighed biting his bottom lip, " Well. If you must know. As old fashion as it may sound. I'd have to say missionary." Taking a squeeze of your ass.

" Why? " You coyly asked.

" Because I like to be able to look you directly in the eye when I make you come over and over again. The faces you make, always looks like art. Care to be my muse? " He asked taking his hand away from your face to move it along down to your throat.

And with that all you could do was nod before you found yourself on your back, on the couch looking a pretty man in the eye while he gave you pretty amazing orgasms.

#austin butler x black! reader #austin butler #dayofourloves #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #mangoasks #mango answers #austin butler x black reader

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taras-toe-beans · 5 months

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I was tagged by @kelandrin to do this challenge from @sporeservant

Izzrhys Illith'vir | he/him | drow | oath of devotion paladin | 103

What is your Tav’s…

favorite weapon: Glaive

style of combat: He's a human shield; throws himself in the middle of a battle and takes the brunt of the damage from enemies. Heavy hitter, loves his smites

most prized possession: He doesn't have a lot of physical items he holds dear. Most important is probably his amulet of Ilmater, as both a symbol of his faith and his spellcasting focus. The amulet is made of wood and red cord.

deepest desire: He wants to be useful, to be needed, and to help alleviate the suffering of others wherever he finds it.

guilty pleasure: He loves trashy romance novels. Both the cheesy, sickly-sweet kind of romance and the steamy, smut-filled kind. I'm starting to think the companions should form a book club.

best-kept secret: He doesn't go out of his way to hide this, but Izzrhys doesn't like talking about the fact that he has children in the underdark.

greatest strength: His compassion. While considered a bleeding heart by some, it has proven to be one of his best qualities. He will go out of his way to help others in need, especially if he knows no one else will stand up for them.

fatal flaw: Recklessness. Izzrhys is quick to lend a hand and equally as quick to put himself in danger. He frequently takes worse beatings than everyone else in battle.

favorite smell: Freshly baked breads and pastries

favorite spell or cantrip: Divine smite. Who doesn't love smiting the fuck out of baddies?

pet peeve: He gets really annoyed at people who have blind faith in any sort of leader. He's been there, done that, and at this point, watching it happen to other people just hurts.

bad habit: He frequently takes on way too many responsibilities and tasks. Time and time again, he's presented with the lesson of "you can't help everyone," and yet he still tries, even if he's spread too thin as it is.

hidden talent: He's surprisingly good with animals. No druid, of course, but animals have always been more drawn to him than a lot of his peers. He's also good at animal care and can usually heal them if need be.

leisure activity: He likes reading, mainly fiction. He's also very interested in linguistics and sometimes studies books on that in his downtime.

favorite drink: Brandy, fruity wines

comfort food: Has a not-so-secret sweet tooth. Especially loves fruit pies and pastries

favorite person: Gale- he would do anything for that wizard

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): Hugging. Izzrhys is a BIG hugger. He loves holding Gale (he's 100% the big spoon), he makes sure that Karlach gets to make up for years of not touching anyone, and he ensures that everyone gets some physical affection, should they want it.

fondest childhood memory: He remembers the time he spent with his younger brother, Valdaer, in the underdark. It's all pretty mundane, some of the memories unpleasant, but any memories of his brother, he tries to hold onto.

Is there anything else you'd like to share? edit: totally forgot to fill out this section, bc I did have a couple of things to add. Izzrhys has severe arachnaphobia (needless to say the spiders under the blighted village and his meeting with Kar'niss did NOT go well). Also as mentioned, he spent his earlier years in the underdark, specifically in Menzoberranzan, but didn't escape until he was in his 80s.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #about my tav

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nekoannie-chan · 1 year

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Colorful

Title: Colorful.

Ship: Steve Rogers X 80’s!Reader.

Word count: 540 words.

Rating: Teen.

Square: B3 1980’s.

Summary: Steve by accident activated one of Chase’s invents and found the love of his life.

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, kind of time travel, happy ending. No Archive Warnings Apply.

A/N: This is my entry to @allcapsbingo AC1078

You can read it on Ao3 and Wattpad too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted

1980

Steve woke up, he was in the middle of the street; however, when he realized, his surroundings were different, Madonna's music sounded far away. He immediately got up, if he was still lying there, the police would probably come soon and question him.

He didn't even know exactly what happened, the last thing he remembered was that he was in Chase Stein's lab and out of curiosity he had grabbed one of the objects there.

That's when he saw the date March 1st, 1980, on one of the newspapers on a stand, which meant he was in trouble, he hoped the others realized what had happened and could fix it since he didn't know who to go to for help.

“Are you okay? “You asked him when you saw him, it struck you that he looked confused, even as if you knew him, though you weren't sure.

“Uh... yeah, I think I got lost. "

“You're not from here," you pointed when you saw him, you knew all the people who lived in your neighborhood.

“Eh... no, I'm from... Illinois “Steve looked at the paper again so he could answer, he knew he couldn't tell the truth since he couldn't explain, rather it was hard to be believed.

“What are you looking for? “you asked.

“Eh... the restaurant... I forgot the name. "

“Ah, I think I know which restaurant you mean, I can take you there, it's very popular, but at this hour it's usually empty. I'm Y/N by the way. "

“Ste... Grant Rogers “he couldn't say his real name” “Is something wrong? “Steve asked as he noticed you kept looking at him.

“No, nothing, I just feel like we know each other. "

“I don't think so, I've never been here before," Steve replied nervously.

“Maybe it was in a past life," you replied.

“Why are you dressed like that, by the way? “He looked at your colorful clothes.

“Oh, I just finished taking my aerobics class," you explained.

1982

Steve didn't care if the rest couldn't fix what he caused, finally when he met you, he realized he had found the love of his life.

A week before he had told you the whole truth, at first he thought you would laugh or that he was joking. However, your only response was "I'm glad you made that mistake, otherwise we wouldn't have met". You even accompanied him to Camp Leigh and other places he wanted to visit.

That encouraged him to take the next step, that night he would propose to you.

1989

Steve smiled, at the same time that he saw the family photo, although the first weeks that he had arrived he doubted what had happened and tried to find a solution, now he would not change his decisions for anything in the world.

Now he had to hurry and finish packing the suitcases, the next day, very early you had to be at the airport to go on a trip to the country you had always wanted to know. You always took turns to fulfill the dream of one or the other.

Finally, he had achieved what he had always wanted and he would not change it for the world.

#allcapsbingo2023 #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic

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pb-dot · 9 months

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Writer Q&A Tag

Full disclosure, this is my second attempt at writing this tag. After I was mentioned by @mthollowell-writes I started filling in the questions with the enthusiasm I usually show for these kinds of things. Then, I actually double-checked the post and discovered I was not tagged, but rather mentioned as an inspiration. This flustered me to the point where I plain forgot to read the next line encouraging those tagged in this way to participate as well, and so, not wanting to be gauche, I deleted the post-to-be. Now I know better, and found the whole thing humorous enough to share, so good on me, I say. Q&A below the cut

1)What motivates you to write?

Writing just makes me happy. I might hem and haw about the obscure pain of trying to nail my thoughts to the page, as well as the sheer nightmare that is editing the result, but the truth of the matter is that writing lets me be a happier person. Part of it is no doubt that it allows me to unload one of the several stories I've got rolling around in my head at any given time, and part of it is that I just enjoy the process of it, forming formless thoughts into linear sentences and linear sentences into more or less coherent paragraphs,and so on.

2) A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

The description of Jake's first impressions of 13 sticks with me. I can't quite decide if I think it's good or if I just think it's good-shaped, but it'll do for this example.

There was something with the pensive look in the eyes of the strange young man that just drew out the similes. His eyes weren’t blue, they were like a perfect sky; His hair wasn’t blond and tightly cropped, it was like freshly harvested wheat; His cloak was not over-sized and ill-fitting, it was like an immaterial fog swathing his delicate form. Perhaps the young man could not be comprehended otherwise, at least Jake couldn’t.

3) Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

I am very fond of the main couple of my book, Jake and 13. There's just something about the slow but inexorable and unashamed way these two grow to rely on each other that really works for me. They both have good cause to be cynical about the world and everything in it, but despite this, there's something about how they are together that allows them to be vulnerable and gentle with each other, and that's the kind of thing that makes me smile.

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

I love the drafting process. Getting words on the page in the form they're supposed to have just fills me with energy, and every time I add a detail that flourishes into a whole subplot or important worldbuilding detail I feel an incredible level of mastery that just fills me with energy. That's not an everyday occurrence, to be clear, but a couple of times per draft I'll get into the "wait, what does that bit I added on a whim imply exactly"-headspace, and often that leads to the discovery of something neat!

5) What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Oh, now this is hard for me. Not because I don't know what to say, but because anything that might constitute bragging is just difficult for my brain to handle. That said, I think I'm really strong on structure and plot, thinking about characters and their struggles and development in terms of part of an overarching story just comes naturally to me and I enjoy working on that scale.

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

I honestly just love the very specific kind of commiseration writers show to each other, and Writeblr captures it perfectly. There's just something refreshing about posting something like "got distracted from writing by worldbuilding, got distracted from worldbuilding by research about Parisian sewers through history" or whatever and have people popping up like "Oh if I had a dollar every time that happened."

7) A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I'm a Scrivener boy, and I must say a couple of features of that program help my writing a sizable amount. I enjoy how it's offline and not integrated or associated with any level of AI fuckery on any detectable level. The way it organizes your manuscript on a chapter-chapter level and the chapters on a scene-scene level has also been very useful for getting nitpicky with the structure, in addition to finally getting me to organize my writing into chapters which I had dragged my feet on for months at that point.

8) A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

I just got done writing up a lengthy summary of The Coal Wars that set the stage for my setting, so while I hatelove it on the level I hatelove most of my ideas, it'll be my pick for this. In short, the city the story takes place in isn't commonly referred to by name because the name it used to have, Imil, is so closely related to the name of the empire it used to be the capital of, Imelia. Imelia was an expansionist maritime empire that maintained colonies and suzerainties all over the world until its chief colony Pelia declared independence after a series of unpopular taxes were levied against them along with the kind of draconic control that an empire might employ against its subjects. This declaration led to a spreading wildfire of requests and demands for emancipation from Imelia's other colonies.

Long story short, Imelia declared war on all of them in an act of imperial hubris. Because control of coal production was such a big deal for the Imelian empire's steampunk technology, these wars were known as The Coal Wars. These wars ended up bankrupting Imelia, and with the hereditary line of emperors cut off with the last empress' death, the whole nation was at a perilous tipping point.

What ultimately decided the fate of the empire was a bunch of the government's debtors and creditors banding together and deciding to repossess the imperial palace, which led to a scuffle between the debtors' private security and the remaining government and their loyalists that saw the last government of Imelia fall in a rather ignoble way. Not wanting to get into the mess of inheriting Imelia's many problems by claiming the throne, the debtors declared the nation of Imelia defunct and went back to their business consolidating industrial and real estate holdings while their security and private military forces maintained a sort of peace in the city.

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

If you are like me and writing in and of itself brings you joy, try to find little moments of calm or clarity to write a bit. Doesn't have to be much. Just fiddling with some sentences or correcting obvious mistakes in your text can be enough to keep your writing fresh in your mind until better days come along.

If you're less energized by the act of writing itself and it's an actual drain on you, I recommend you to not worry about it. Take a break. Rest. Maybe read or watch some fiction, go see some friends, and live whatever slice of life you can in your current state. It might not seem like it, but this is a vital part of writing as well, since you need a steady stream of impressions and thoughts and feelings to fuel your writing, in addition to needing them to live a fulfilling life of course.

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

I should be way better at reading other writeblrs stuff honestly. There's some good stuff in here. That said, I do enjoy reading up on @stesierra multitude of projects and @dyrewrites' dark, wicked, and delightful Pale Blood. I also have a longer list of people I just like seeing pop up. In no particular order: @anxious-andconfused @starbuds-and-rosedust @words-after-midnight @holdmyteaplease @teacupsandstarlight @ettawritesnstudies @simonambroise @writingamongther0ses @leisoree @wrenofthewords @isabellebissonrouthier @rickie-the-storyteller @robin-writes-a-lot @scifimagpie and of course @mthollowell-writes

Everybody mentioned above can consider themselves tagged in this. I also wouldn't mind getting to know the following people a mite better: @maskedemerald @deadhunter-series @your-absent-father and @unspokenvastlywritten

#writing #writeblr #hearts in clockwork #peebs thinks #the clockwork boy

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