#so in that case I have a present for some of you and I'm really excited about it
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"Werewolf Price being hit with pheromones and they expect him to go feral or be evil but really he just herds everyone up and bumps heads with Ghost and grooms Gaz and fucks Graves until he can’t take it anymore safely outside of the sights of everyone else"
I love it, I want it, I expect it. Please!!! I've been good I SWEAR!! Never sent a ask so fast!
Well i got to write it now, i got you <3
Price suffered from lycanthropy. Some people preferred to say they had it or even blessed with it. But no. He suffered from it. It was a rather big weakness to have in war, even if his advanced senses were sometimes helpful.
Pheromones. The smoke bombs were laced with them. His rational thoughts were slowly slipping away, leaving just bare instincts.
Ghost grabbed him. He could tell by the smell. The ease he had in lifting him up. His grip felt very tight though, with Price able to feel each and every fingertip digging deep into his skin. It was confusing why his pack member would hurt him, but it must be for a good reason.
Price went limp to allow Ghost to carry him easier. He could hear Ghost telling him he was being good as he moved him away from everything, holding him so tight Price was sure if he tried to yank away he'd either hurt himself or Ghost.
Everything was so loud. Every sound amplified and echoed. The sights. Different smells mixed together until he felt nauseous.
The floor is cold where he's being pressed against it. Ghost's hands were warm where they're against his face and Price tries and fails to jerk up off the floor. He's growling, trying to get someone to understand the floor is too cold for him to lay on. Everything is loud and everything is terrible and and and
Gaz pulls him to sit down, Price's body between his legs. He puts both hands firmly on his shoulders and Price relaxes. It doesn't occur to him that Gaz did this in case he needed to trap him. One of his pack members was there to reassure him everything was alright.
Price had no recollection on how they got to the safe house. He only knew that his sense had calmed enough to no longer overstimulate him, though he was no more rational than he had been when first hit. He pushed the three of them around until he got them all herded together in one room. Soap laughed a little and got a gentle headbutt for it.
Price relaxes once he had all of them, trying to groom Gaz after a minute. He was more like an actual wolf with his dynamics. There was his mate (not there) and his wards. He was not an 'alpha', just a pack leader. And his pack was very important to him. It was incomplete right now.
He focused on trying to get Gaz presentable. The rather tight grip on him relaxed so he could focus on keeping them in the room and safe.
Ghost got smart and made a place on the floor for them to be able to stay with their bedrolls.
Price relaxed and laid on the floor next to them, watching them.
Time ticks away strangely. He can tell he should go to sleep. But this is a Shadow safehouse they're using. The smell around him makes the ache of not having everyone together more apparent. His nose keeps twitching.
There's movement at the door and he bows up immediately, growling. He quickly gets to it and waits, ready to pounce.
Graves.
Price relaxed and grabbed him.
"John?" He sounded surprised, but didn't fight him. Price forced him away from the others who were all sleeping anyway.
"I'm glad to know you're safe. Was a bit worried when they said you were hit with something." Graves looked up and smiled before pausing when he saw how Price's eyes looked. "John?"
Price moved closer, his feet lightly kicking at Grave's so he'd keep moving back. Without him truly realizing it, Price had herded Graves into a different room. The lights were still off so Graves couldn't see very well. But Price could.
"Oh." Graves purred. "I get it. You been missing me?"
Price panted, walking forward. He buried his face in his mate's neck and took a deep breath. God he smells so good. His tongue flicked out to lick over his skin and Graves groaned.
Graves was smart enough to work himself out of his gear before Price tore it. He let Price pick him up and toss him on the bed before crawling on top of him.
This was perfect. Price nuzzled at his jugular and started to nip at him, hands running down his body.
Graves ran his fingers through Price's hair, feeling his ears. "Cute. Planning to rut against me, Captain?"
Price grabbed him and flipped him on to his stomach. He opened his pants and pressed his cock against Graves’s thighs, humming in pleasure at the warmth.
“John, you can’t. I’m not exactly prepared here, Soldier.” Graves straightened up. Well, tried to. Price pinned him back down and started to nose at his thighs. “John, I’m serious. You haven’t ev-“ He choked when Price fully pressed his face against him and licked at his hole. It wasn’t what Price wanted, but the visions of Graves being hurt were enough to get him to act right. His tongue dove into him and Graves made a soft groaning noise as he rocked back.
“Should’ve known you’d be smart enough for this. Even all feral, still taking care of your pack right?”
Price couldn’t decipher the tone used. It felt possibly teasing, but it didn’t matter. His mate said he was smart and took care of his pack. The tail he kept tucked between his legs started to wag happily.
Graves panted softly. “Alright. That’s enough. You deserve it.”
Price moved fast, getting on top of him and pinning him down. His cock was so hard it hurt but he needed more. Needed to be buried inside him. He pushed in nice and slow and Graves moaned into the pillows.
“Good boy. You make me feel so good.”
Price wagged his tail harder and started to thrust into him. He braced his hands above Grave's head and enjoyed his mate thoroughly.
Graves tried to stay quiet, pressing his face into the pillows and arching his back. His hole was so tight and willing. Squeezing around him every time he bottomed out.
Well, almost bottomed out.
His knot pressed against his hole with every thrust. He stared at it. The way it pressed right against Graves's rim, begging to be let in. Slowly, he started to grind against him with each thrust, trying to get Graves to take it.
"John, it won't fit." Graves moaned, eyes fluttering shut. He was still arching his back though and it only encouraged John to keep trying. His cock was pressing so tight against him. Carving through him. He put his thumb against his rim and pressed against him so his knot would slowly begin to slide him. When he got a very sweet moan instead of Graves telling him to stop, he kept going. His knot was a little smaller than a fist and it began to slide deeper and deeper in.
The widest part was about to go when Graves began to cry out. "Fuck, Price, darling, I don't think it's going to fit." He grabbed his arms and trembled, body clenching and squeezing around him so tight. "It's not... Fuck..." Tears ran down his face as he mumbled uselessly into his pillows. Drool mixed with the tears running down his face as Price finally finally got it all the way in.
Price wagged his tail happily and thrust in. His knot would push in a little deeper and then catch on Graves's rim when he pulled back, keeping them tied together as Price mated with him.
Graves dug his nails into Price's arm as he came on to the sheets. His legs twitched and shook as his orgasm tore through him. He leaned his head against Price's shoulder and moaned sweetly.
Price moved Graves so he was laying flat on the bed instead of on his hands and knees. He didn't stop or even falter but the changed angle made it feel even tighter and let his knot push just a little deeper into him.
Graves scrambled at the sheets and clawed at the edges. Struggling for some hand hold. He felt his cock start to fill with blood again as Price tried to make up for the weeks of not having him.
"John, john, john, john." He chanted only to be quieted when Price kissed him. Their liplock only encouraged him to thrust in faster.
Price pressed in tight and came inside him. "Breed you. Make you take it."
Graves nodded, smiling softly. He'd indulge him his fantasies. Especially when his poor lover was still so far gone.
Price laid on him, kissing his pretty face. "Love. Love."
"i see you can say words now. Come on, pull out."
Price shoved in deeper, grinding against Graves's prostate. He growled his refusal.
Graves had trouble thinking as the pleasure moved through him. "Price, fuck, alright. I'll stay underneath you, darling."
Price relaxed but kept abusing Graves's prostate. He ignored his pleas for mercy as he cuddled him, hips rocking away. He only stopped when he managed to drag another orgasm out of Graves.
#cod#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#Phillip graves#Price x Graves#Graves x Price#Captain John Price
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About your recent post comparing racists, terfs, and hard right zionists.
There is certainly a lot of racial hatred, oppression, and unwarranted murder of civilians going on in the Israel-Gaza conflict right now. I'm not really here to speak up in favor of Israel, I think they're committing atrocities.
But at the same time I don't think the atrocities are really the same as if some group called for the death of all trans people and started following through, I'm not convinced they're committing genocide specifically. (Some hard right zionists certainly want that, but I'm not convinced the Israeli military as a whole is engaged in genocide).
My question is, what was Israel to do in response to the October attacks and kidnappings? Obviously mass murder of civilians is the wrong answer. But I feel like many people are also unwilling to admit that Israel did need to act somehow in self defense, and their fault is largely that their war has a far greater proportion of civilian casualties than we accept for a modern war. Hamas has in the past openly called for the death of all Jews, something which I never see grapples with among leftist takes on the matter.
(Sorry if I'm also missing the point of your post.. I probably sort of am, but, I just agree with the brunt of your post and wanted to tangent off of it)
No, you're not missing the point I don't think.
I agree that it's reasonable for Israel to do something in response to the Oct. 7 attack, just like, say, it was reasonable for the US to do something in response to 9/11. I am not a counterterrorism expert so it would be hard for me to comment on what the optimal response would have been. But as I human being I can confidently say that (in the case of 9/11) "start two forever-wars, kill half a million to a million people, and destabilize the politics of the entire Middle East" quite squarely was not it. Guantanamo Bay was not it. And similarly regarding Oct. 7, I can say that "bomb a densely populated civilian area indiscriminately, kill 30,000 people and displace and injure many more" is not it. Sde Teiman is not it. To call Israel's response disproportionate and utterly inhumane would be an understatement, whether it is intended to be a genocide or not. I don't think there is much point in dwelling on the counterfactual in which they had responded in some reasonable way to protect Israeli lives.
I would also like to point that Israel is an apartheid regime, whose founders in living memory settled in Palestine, violently displaced thousands of Palestinians from their homes (and continue to do so via illegal settlements), and placed the Palestinians under what is essentially martial law. In light of this, it's pretty clear why people might feel that Israel would be per se unjustified in self defense against the Oct. 7 attack—in the same way that if a burglar breaks into your home, and you start to hit him with a baseball bat, and then he shoots you in "self defense", many courts would rule in your favor. The burglar was in your home burglarizing you; it's you who acted in self defense.
Now, with regards to the Oct. 7 attack, I do not buy this line of reasoning. Hamas attacked civilians, and (as you mention) has called for further civilian death, I believe that attacks on civilians are always unjustified. Had they only targeted the Israeli military I would be much more inclined to buy this self defense narrative. The ultimate path towards peace in Israel/Palestine is certainly not clear to me. But, again, in light of the current situation it is not especially relevant: Israel's case for acting in self defense is weaker and their violence is more extreme. Everything else is secondary until the present killing stops.
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right because people with anxiety for sure will be able to "patch together their own fragile nerves" if they're just told they should look inside themselves and simply realize what should and what shouldn't impact their self-esteem. congratulations world anxiety and insecurity has dropped to zero
#i have nothing againt the blogger who wrote this addition i get some part of it too. just momentarily annoyed by attitudes like this#like wow you must have cracked the code to everyone's problems because you're so perceptive and you're just built different.#i'm sure anxious people really are babies who have never considered that they just shouldn't be anxious! and it totally isn't the case that#every single person is unique and different things help them and one sentence life advice isn't worth much no matter how it's presented..#whatever it really truly doesn't matter i was just a bit annoyed and like using this filter<3
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Oh not me avoiding a wildly popular piece of media that I’d probably actually like out of sheer spite.
#maybe this is my True Toxic Trait but I just get really annoyed when all I hear is 'this thing is PERFECT it's EVERYTHING it's the only#TRULY high-quality media to EVER exist it is OBJECTIVELY better than literally EVERYTHING else it's the MOST IMPORTANT thing of ALL TIME'#like...again. not that you have to issue a disclaimer for media discussion of every single one of it's flaws before you earn the right to#talk about it. but if people keep holding something up as The Best Ever No Exceptions with literally no other commentary I just kind of...#get irritated to the point where I don't want to engage with the thing#I think in this case it's really...Objectively This Is The Best. I think that's what bothers me. because there IS no objective measurement#of art. it doesn't exist!! and that's okay!!!! just be honest!!!!!!!#'but mc13 what about your relationship to cxgf' well if you go back through my episode reviews you will see that I very much#acknowledged that some things could be done better and that it is not a perfect show because perfect media ALSO doesn't exist#and I've never said that it's the ONLY '''right''' way to present the themes it explores. there are a million different ways to do that#and it is the Greatest of All Time in MY OPINION. that's not going to be true of everyone!! and you can think something is the Best™#WITHOUT PUTTING DOWN OTHER PIECES OF MEDIA /ESPECIALLY/ ONES THAT ARE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME GENRE OR HAVE THE SAME FUNCTION??????#I'm also so tired of people saying 'it's good because it's gay™' like that tells me NOTHING#and like. the ideas/themes/concepts presented in this thing (from what I can tell) ARE present in other types of media and y'all REFUSE to#engage in those other things??? like you write them off and disparage them and basically unconditionally hate the things in them but#THIS time it's okay THIS is the exception and there is just NO awareness or critical thought there at all. it's the hypocrisy for me#In the Vents
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Every day I tell myself "all I have to do is make it through today" and I'm realizing that I don't know how I feel about the fact that I feel like I have to tell myself that every single day.
#a lot of times it's because I hate my job and I'm miserable#I literally cried in the car on the way home today because I got so stressed during my shift#never work at a movie theater kids it's awful#I wish I didn't#I wish I could have a real job because I fucking went to college I got my fucking dgree#and yet this was the best I could do because I've never had a job in my life so no one would give me the time of day#I feel humiliated every single day I walk into the building#I feel like such a failure and an embarrassment#and that's not to say everyone who works at the theatre ahould feel that way that's now what I'm saying#but that's how I personally feel about myself and the situation that I am in#and we're entering the busiest week of the year so it sucks even more than usual#but also I'm just so tired from this year it's been a really bad one for me and my family#just abysmal in every way#so I have to remind myself I have to make it through the day every day right now#but you know what it's fine I have a chapter done and ready to go on Christmas and it's been almlst 4 years in the making#so in that case I have a present for some of you and I'm really excited about it#it's gonna be a sad Christmas for us because everyone in my family is broke but I hope you guys all have a better holiday than I will#and as someone who adores Christmas like it's my favorite day of the year type adore I'm just really down in the dumps right now#just feeling very sad#but anyway sorry rant over I have to go to bed#I don't get saturday's off and those are my lingest shifts so 🙃#I get christmas eve and christmas ofd tough 😊#but not the day after 🙃#anyway bedtime for me sorry to rant guys#abby's self deprecation hour#abby after dark
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If anyone is interested, Festival de Parintins is going on right now. It lasts three nights startig today.
I wanted to watch live this year but unfortunately I'm too tired and can't stay up, so I'm offering my comically small number of followers the chance to know a brazilian tradition other than carnival. Enjoy.
(I say as if I hadn't only known the festival tangentially until last year, just in time to miss the presentations... but I've seen some clips and became team Caprichoso since then.)
#quick rundown: Caprichoso is the black ox and its colors are blue and white#Garantido is the white ox and goes with red and white#they're rivals and each has a two-three hour long presentation each night#they're judged on a series of things that I don't know the specifics to talk about#but basically it's the story of an ox (the owners favorite as a matter of fact) that gets killed to satisfy the cravings of a pregnant woma#who was the wife of one of the workers#the owner is upset and calls a shaman to bring the ox back to life#in short it's a celebration of the ox's ressurection and the festivities happen all across brazil mostly in a street and popular fashion#but Parintins is the most famous for having the two emblematic oxes and an arena dedicated to them#all of that and I didn't cite the tale is known as Boi Bumbá or Bumba-meu-boi#and that the ox is represented by a person inside a 'costume'#anyway I'm beat and REALLY need to sleep so I hope it made at least some sense#gnight#p.s.: boi means ox. Right now I'm too tired to remember what bumba/bumbá means but I think it might have something to do with drums??#and meu is mine/my so boi bumbá is literally ox bumbá and bumba-meu-boi would be something like my bumba ox. explaining just in case#now I'm done for real bye#edit: or bumba my ox as in verbing the term in the imperative...I'm not actually sure how to translate. you know what just go with bumbá ox#have I said I need to sleep??
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i love how you can read my url and be like okay,probably another "silly stereotypical tiktok quirky maniac pixie dream girl" autistic bitch. and then you read through my blog, and you're just like. oh, this bitch got AUTISM autism.
#text#i don't know how to explain what i mean. basically I'm not like how misinformed people think all autistics are. I'm genuinely disabled#it's not a cutesy personality trait. it's a neurodevelopmental disorder and you can tell TM when you observe me for long enough.#that's all i can say really#it's a complicated topic#i think people sort of...gentrified the autistic community and it's culture by totally misrepresenting what autism is and how it presents#we are not all the same. there is a spectrum of symptoms and ways those manifestat and how they interact with each other#some people can pass for allistic. others cannot#it's neither entirely negative nor positive. it just is. it's just a way of being#like they came into OUR SPACES and completely changed it into something trendy#so now we either are a trend demonized or infantilized.#neither of those things is what we need. i wish more people were educated better on what autism is#sorry I'm getting rambly again and depressing#now we've got corporate autism pandering but it's completely inappropriate and misleading#basically creating new stereotypes#we don't all have the same needs or wants. we are not a cookie cutter one size fits all#everyone is unique. every case is unique#actually i am explaining it but i don't know if this all...makes any sense at all#idk man. i just don't know#vent in tags#autismposting#also sorry for any typos once again. y'all know why i make those by now I'm sure lol
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It's amazing how much having the roofer who put my roof in and have a direct monetary incentive to finding something wrong with my roof telling me it's fine other than some bruising lets me calm my anxiety about the rain
I'm still worried about whatever's causing the water to leak around that pipe (only when it rains so... I wouldn't think it's plumbing related), but... I can put that one aside if I know it's not a problem with the roof
It's just amazing though what solid information can do
#it's why I'm always using the phrase evidence; it's why I'm always talking about what evidence I do and don't have#here I have evidence I can present myself that says that my anxiety isn't about stuff that's really happening#and that means that I can stop from fixating and being driven crazy by it as much#I could probably totally get rid of it with this if I could give the same treatment to the few other things#that give me anxiety related to the rain right now#if I can feed my anxiety solutions or facts it tends to go away#the problem is I'm often totally in the dark on things#like here; I'm not comfortable going on my roof and I don't know what to look for; so I couldn't just find out myself; I needed help#and there's a lot of stuff like that where even metaphorically I don't know what to look for... so I can't find any evidence#that will prove my warped view of things wrong#this is what I keep trying to explain but... but honestly feels like it never gets through to anyone#...I often wonder if I'm just terrible at communicating#if maybe all my words just kind of come out garbled from what I think I'm saying#...it really does feel like that's the case some times; but... it's unlikely; isn't it?#still... functionally it describes what I experience a lot of times even if it's probably the wrong answer#I just don't know why nothing I say really ever seems to make sense to anyone or... or even be heard 99% of the time#not something new either; felt this way pretty much my whole life... so you see why I wonder if I just...#if I'm not saying what I think I'm saying; like if the words are the wrong words and are confusing everyone
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In the wake of the whole james somerton fiasco and inspired by this post, I wanted to share a few of my um, soft signs, like, orange flags to detect when someone is bullshitting you.
First of all, I am on the spectrum which means 1) I tend to take what people say at face value and 2) I have a strong sense of justice which makes me prone to biases, all of which combined means I am at perpetual risk of swallowing the bullshit.
So, what to do about it? You turn on the critical thinking and pay attention.
As one of my favorite youtubers, Hannah Alonzo, likes to say: "consider the source, remember the motive".
Who is talking to you?? What do you know about them?? What biases might they have?? How do they interact with your own biases?? Where are they talking from?? Is it anger?? happinness? boredom??
Also, why are they talking to you? Are they trying to sell you something?? Are they trying to convince you and why?? How do they go about the finantial motivation, if present?
If you have, in this case, a white cis gay man talking to you as it he has it the worst of the worst in the world, there's probably some exaggeration and you should start to wonder. There's a good chance he's bullshitting you.
How they talk about women and POC
No, no, stay with me. There's a rule I had back when I was dating men: Always beware of how they treat their mother. With the exception of extremes like mama's boys and cases of abuse, how a man treats the woman with whom they have that familial bond is a good indicator of how they are going to treat you. Do they berate her? speak ill of her? are aggressive or controlling? do they dismiss her opinions?
Same with creators, and by god I tell you, specially cis male creators, queer or otherwise, always always beware of how they speak of women, how they treat women, how they treat POC.
Somerton had a weird vendetta against straight women. It went mostly unnoticed. Then, he was dismissive towards lesbians and other queer women and it was once again overlooked. Then he went ahead and made sinophobic content about genres and cultures he knows NOTHING about. Again, it went unchecked. What I am telling you is IT'S NOT NORMAL. Contempt about women and non white-western cultures is not normal and if someone has them as them as an enemy or a scapegoat, they're probably bullshitting you. Take what they say and fact check it, see for yourself.
If at any point in a video or an essay you find yourself thinking "wait, really??" then it's time to fact check. Is it a bit suspicious?? is your logic telling you that's not quite how this works?? Then take to google, my friend, they might be bullshitting you. At worst, you dodge a fake fact, at best, you learn way too much about a topic you were already interested in.
Beware of the lack of nuance. I can not stress this enough. We all love monochrome, but life and societal issues are never black and white. It's just impossible, there's too many factors to consider. If you are being presented situations or anecdotes as absolute truths, you're probably being bullshitted. If it's too good to be true, it is. If it sounds waaay too convenient, it probably is.
A good researcher, a serious investigator, will always have some nuance because they have done the work and checked the sources. If someone provides you 1) no nuance and 2) no sources, THEY'RE BULLSHITTING YOU.
These are the ones I can come up with just of the top of my head, I'm sure there's more and please, add them. Remember that naivité isn't a crime, I'm fairly naive and that's made me distrustful, and these are some of the techniques I've found that help me navigate through a world of information without losing myself.
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Okay, so with Quackity Studios tweeting about adding new people and the need for tolerance and patience with people who don't speak English, let's just take a second and have a chat about what that's gonna look like.
First: you will hear things or read things on the translator that hurt or offend you.
This is inevitable. Do not immediately post about it. What you need tolerance for is hearing things that hurt or offend you and what you need patience for is figuring out of malicious intent was present or if this is a hill worth dying on right now.
As an example, we're pretty sure at this point that Korean is gonna be the next language added. The second person pronoun in Korean sounds a lot like the n-word in English. The n-word in English, if you're not aware, is like the single most offensive slur we have. It's not something that you want to hear unexpectedly. But also, if we get Koreans, they're gonna be using the word for "you" and English speakers are gonna have to be able to tolerate that.
On the other side of things, Korean has a complex system of honorifics and addressing someone without an honorific would be considered very forward and intimate at least if not very rude. None of the QSMP languages have honorifics though and only French really retains formality* so no one else is going to address them with honorifics unless they specifically explain it to people and walk them through it. That will probably be weird and uncomfortable for them and they're going to have to be able to tolerate that.
*Spanish and Portuguese do technically have formal vs informal but it's disappearing quickly in both of them.
These natural cultural clashes and pain points are going to be harder to overcome since we also know that at least some of these creators won't speak English at all so they can't just switch to English to helpfully explain things to us easily in a way we understand. We're going to have to deal.
So here's the thing: just because there can be cultural miscommunications and mistranslations, that doesn't mean that people can't also be assholes. How do you distinguish between the two?
Step One: Assume good faith. Assume that everyone in a given encounter is trying to communicate respectfully and compassionately and that a failure to do so can be overcome
Step Two: Don't get involved. Especially not in Twitch Chat. Two or more people trying to communicate through a language barrier does not get easier when they're also trying to wrangle hostile viewers.
Step Three: Are you sure you heard what you thought you heard or saw what you thought you saw? Did the translator fuck up? Is it a word that just coincidentally happens to sound like another word? If this is the case, the streamers can ask for clarification or use another tool and get it cleared up. Keep watching and see if they do.
Step Four: If they did say what you thought they said, are the streamers handling it? We had a thing a while back where Bad called some friends, including Bagi and Etoiles, uncultured because they didn't get a reference he was making and Etoiles was like "bro I'm French" and Bad apologized. That should have been the end of it, but I had to see people arguing about it for weeks. The problem was solved in 10 seconds.
Step Five: If the person is doubling down, are you sure this is something you can fix by yelling about it on Twitter or Tumblr? Would it be better to let people who actually know them talk to them behind the scenes? Pierre made a few missteps in the beginning of the server, Quackity said they had a chat, Pierre hasn't misstepped since. It's just easier to sort things out in private, one on one conversation than yelling at someone in public.
In short: it's fine to take note of behavior in case patterns start to emerge in it, but yelling on social media about how so and so is the worst person possible is not constructive.
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic. Some people who know me in real life still don’t. And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM. I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe? I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag. Even so, how could autism describe me? I was a good student. I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class. I can make eye contact…if I must. And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right? Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it. I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them: sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak. It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once.
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance. It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day. But it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities.
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person. This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs. No two people on the spectrum present in the same way. And that’s a good thing! No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic. I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway. I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day. More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing. My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here
A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,
Word Count: 3.1k
TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)
In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.
You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.
The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.
Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.
Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.
"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.
Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.
Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.
Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.
As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.
But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.
You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.
"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.
Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."
Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."
Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."
The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"
Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."
Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."
Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."
Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.
As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.
The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.
In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.
It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.
As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.
Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.
"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"
But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."
The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.
"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."
As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."
Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.
Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.
Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.
Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.
But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.
As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.
"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"
You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.
"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.
Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."
As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.
"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."
Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."
You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.
Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.
You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.
The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."
As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.
You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.
Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.
You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.
As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.
As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.
Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y
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DPXDC prompt: Valentine's day spirit. Superbat edition.
When Phantom sets foot on the Justice League base many years later, he expects anything but not Flash pointing finger at him and screaming about "legendary child who made Superbat canon".
~~~~
Being in Metropolis because of a ghost hunt right in the middle of a battle between Lex Luthor and Superman was not the best outcome, especially considering that Jack had his three-year-old son with him.
But without such a combination of circumstances, they would never have found out that
"Ghost!"
"Daddy, no!"
Ectoblast that Jack shot at the target of their hunt touches Superman and..really hurts him.
There were two sides to Danny-the ghostbuster's son and the astronerd. It is clear which half of him did not have a chance to win.
Danny threw his space rocket toy aside and grabbed father's arm. In the next second, boy had already sunk his teeth into Jack's fingers, forcing him to drop weapon. Youngling quickly jumped off and picked up ectoblast and then ran towards Superman. "Fly away! I'll hold him!"
Danny stood up to try to cover up ghost (or alien?) in case Dad took not one but a whole bunch of shooting things with him again.
Jack: Get away from my son, ghost.
Superman: Sir, I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding, I'm not a ghost.
Jack: Danny, come to me, he's trying to hide his identity and manipulate us.
Danny: No. If the heroes are being attacked, then someone must protect them too.
Jack: But he's a ghost..
Danny: Alien or ghost is not so important, Daddy. He's in pain, and he's protecting this city, not haunting it. It's wrong to try to catch him for experiments. I forbid you to do that.
Jack: Danny, champ, you're wrong.
Lex: Hah, what an interesting substance. Despite the other aggregate state, or rather its absence, it is so similar to kryptonite.
Superman: Lex, is this a portable lab? Now is not the time, in case you haven't noticed.
Lex: There is always time for science. I think my colleague will agree, right?
"Similar to kryptonite?" Jack muttered to himself.
Jack: So Superman wasn't my target. And we are not colleagues. There is only one insanely rich man with questionable moral values with whom I am ready to do work, and your surname is clearly not Masters.
Lex: It's a pity, but still, if you want to carry out the delivery of your wonderful weapons or exchange experiences, then call this number. Luther quickly shoves a business card into Fenton's hand.
Jack*throws it away*: Come on, son, let's go back to the hotel, you've skinned your knees.
~~~The Evening. The Roof of the mentioned hotel~~~
"My friend Sam is also very frightening. And she also likes dark.“ The boy paused for a minute of thinking. “You want to kiss your goth friend?"
"W-What makes you think that, kid. We’re colleagues, I respect him very much and.."
"So you want to. It’s okay, I’d like to kiss Sam too but I’m afraid she’s gonna hit me. You have the same problem?"
"It’s a little more complicated for adults." Kal begins to explain but stumbles upon Danny’s completely unimpressed look. Yeah, this boy apparently has heard 'kids would understand when they grow up' lectures at least thousand times. "But you’re basically right."
~~~~
When Batman himself comes to their hotel the next day as a representative of the Justice League to make sure that Mr. Fenton has no desire to harm Superman in the future and to tell that Superman is not going to press charges because of the ectoblast that injured him, Danny refuses to leave the room.
Jack: Oh, Danny, I thought you dropped your space rocket yesterday, it's a good that Alicia's Christmas present isn't lost.
Danny: Well, dad, I left it on the roof of a bad bad man, yeah, but Uncle Kal returned it last night and we talked for a while.
Jack: About what? Space, my little star? *Father immediately assumes that Danny would like to ask about everything real alien*.
Boy*blushes and shakes his head negatively*: No, not about it.
Jack: Then what it was about?
Danny: Secret superhero things. I can't tell you. I agreed to withhold that information as part of a pinky swear.
Batman: And what about me, young man? You can tell me, right? Batman couldn't resist talking with such a cute kid.
The boy thinks only for a second before hurriedly trying to push his father out of the room.
Danny: Dad, come out for a minute and don't eavesdrop. I'll tell you when you can come in.
The big man laughingly obeys. Lil child checks the reliability of the closed door and runs up to Batman.
Danny: And so, Mr. Batman, first promise not to laugh or hit Uncle Kal.
Batman: I promise?
Danny: Good. This is very important information.
Batman: I'm listening.
Danny: He thinks you're terrifying and wants to kiss you. And since he is afraid that you will hit him for this, I recommended him to appease you with a pie cooked according to his mother's recipe. Well, you know, since you love sweets and his parents' farm has the most wonderful apples in all states. He rarely cooks himself, but he will try for you, so even if he doesn't succeed, pretend that you liked it, please.
Batman:...
Batman: Would you like to work in intelligence for the Justice League when you grow up?
Danny: Actually, I want to be an astronaut.
Batman: Our base is located in space.
Danny:
Danny: Hmm, then I'll think about your offer.
Batman: Great. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Fenton. You can count on a job recommendation from me. Do you want anything as compensation for your consultation?
Danny: Actually, yes. Mr. Batman, tell me honestly, are you a bat on a frugivorous diet like Giant golden-crowned flying fox or you are a Vampire Bat? Sam says that such a big bat can only be a vegetarian and uncle Kal said your son was more than happy to steal strawberries from his garden with Superboy but..
~~~
Batman tries to behave naturally for a week. However, the sweet tooth inside him still makes him clamp Superman in the corner and question him.
"Where the hell are the pies you promised to cook for me, Clark?"
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Tom meeting reader at an event and he’s just flirting the whole night and ends up getting her number
i watched the golden globes and got inspired to write this! i hope you like it <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
If there was an award for "most nervous person in attendance" at the Golden Globes, you'd have won it by now.
Award shows never failed to make your stomach feel in knots the entire time, specially when you were nominated, like tonight.
The Great had been a huge breakout role, a period drama that had captivated audiences and critics. Now, you stood among the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy at the Golden Globes, and you could feel your heart pounding as the moment of your category being announced approached.
"Love, are you okay?" you heard a voice calling for you, turning your head you realized that it was Dua (yes, the Dua Lipa) who was sitting next to you.
"Just a bit nervous," you told her with a small smile, "I think I'll head backstage for a minute, I need a breather."
She assured you with another smile and you made your way backstage, a commercial break started just on cue.
You had rehearsed your acceptance speech a dozen times in case you won, and also had a pep talk ready in case you didn't, yet the nerves persisted. You knew you were competing against some big names, and whatever the result people online would have something to say.
Your train of thought was interrupted by your body colliding with someone, almost dropping your clutch in the process.
"Whoa there, careful," a voice chuckled, catching your arm.
"Sorry, I didn't see where I was going," you said, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment, of course you'd run into someone in classic romcom cliche style.
"No harm done. You alright?" he grinned and you recognized him, it was the man who had been flooding your Tiktok for you page for the past month, Tom Blyth, "I'm Tom, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, I'm YN," you smiled back, "And yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit nervous about my category. Oh you're presenting it, aren't you?"
"I'll have the privilege, yes," his charm effortlessly showed, "And just so you know, I'm rooting for you. You were phenomenal in The Great, one of my favorite shows I watched last year."
Your nerves seemed to ease a bit, his presence and charm making you relax. There was something about him that felt comforting, even though it was your first time meeting him.
"Thank you, that's really nice," you smiled at him, "But I don't want to get too confident, the other nominees are just as great."
"Honestly, I'd bet my hat you're taking that Golden Globe home tonight."
Tom squeezed your arm gently and you smiled again, and before another word could be exchanged, a crew member's voice echoed through the backstage area announcing that the show was back from commercial break in 30 seconds.
"Well, looks like it's showtime" Tom glanced towards the exit, then back at you. "Knock 'em dead out there, YN. You got this."
"We'll see."
With a final wink sent your way, you parted ways. You returned to your seat and tried to enjoy the ceremony as much as you could, your nerves still in the back of your head but your interaction with Tom making you feel more at ease now.
"And now, presenting the award for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy, please welcome The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes star, Tom Blyth!"
You heard the host say and you knew t was time, and once again a wave of nerves and uncertainty filled your body.
The crowd erupted in applause as Tom stepped onto the stage, his confidence and charm shinning through.
"Good evening, everyone. It's an honor to be here tonight among such incredible talents," Tom smiled, "Here are the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series, Musical or Comedy."
A video played showing all the nominees but you felt like your mind was numb, you didn't even realize it had ended until Tom's voice was heard again.
"And the Golden Globe goes to," he paused for suspense, and you could see a small smirk making its way to his face as he read the name, "YN!"
Time seemed to freeze, you tried to process everything as you heard the applause from the crowd and those around you congratulating you and before you knew it, you were on stage taking the award from Tom's hands and giving him a quick hug.
"I told you." He quietly whispered in your ear and gave you a wink, a moment that the cameras had caught.
You gave your speech, thanking your cast mates, directors, family, friends and the rest of the nominees. Once you were done you headed backstage with a proud smile and your newest award in hand.
The night went on and you definitely enjoyed every minute of it, mingling with other actors and thanking everyone who approached to congratulate you.
Once the ceremony wrapped up, you headed to the after party, you were sipping on a fruity drink by the bar when you felt a presence behind you.
"Hey, can I steal a moment with the newest Golden Globe winner?"
You turned around noticing it was Tom, he had changed to a different suit and you couldn't help but think that he looked really handsome.
"Sure, what do you need, president Snow?" you laughed, feeling a newfound confidence around him.
"How about your number? I'd hate to lose touch with Hollywood's latest sensation." Tom flashed his charming smile again, taking you by surprise and making your entire body feel giddy.
"Smooth, Blyth. Very smooth." Blushing furiously, you playfully rolled your eyes.
"Well, when you really really want something, smooth comes naturally."
And just like that, after winning a major award for your career and feeling on top of the world, you found herself exchanging numbers with Tom Blyth, excited to see where that would take you.
#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth blurb#tom blyth x you#tom blyth fake instagram#tom blyth social media au#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#tom blyth fic#harrysfolklore#tom blyth fluff#tom blyth smut#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow smut#social media au#tom blyth au#1k#2k
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The greatest gift
it's the most wonderful time of the year as they like to say so how about you recieve the best gift from santa on top of that 😈
this is suggestive perhaps??
Characters featured: mikey, hanma, baji, mitsuya
₊˚⊹♡ Mikey
You were joking when you asked for "Mikey" for christmas. You thought Hina and Emma knew you were joking.
So why the hell was Mikey currently tied up with a christmas ribbon and sitting under the christmas tree in your house, staring back at you with a slight smile?
"Merry christmas."
"I- HUH?!" you quickly covered your mouth, not wanting to be too loud at midnight. "Mikey, why are you in my house?" you whisper yelled.
"Emma and Hina jumped me." was his comically simple response. Well, it would be comically simple if Mikey didn't scare the living crap out of you just a few moments ago.
"That- That doesn't explain anything!" at this point, you've given up with trying to be quiet.
"I can't tell you anything more. I have no idea what's happening either."
"How are you so calm about this anyways?" you walked closer to him, inspecting the tag on the ribbon that said "Merry christmas from Emma and Hina".
"Now that I think of it, it is pretty weird to be kidnapped by your sister."
You're not even going to ask how they managed to get him in here without the keys.
"Well, uhhh... how about I unwrap you...?" you offered awkwardly after a small silence.
"Are you sure you want to do that? You'll unleash the true present by doing that." something... strange flashed behind his dark eyes.
"...What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing. ♡"
₊˚⊹♡ Hanma
"Merry christmas. ♡" you froze at the sound of his voice.
You were woken up by some weird noise downstairs, quietly walking down to investigate the source. You even took a knife from the kitchen just in case.
But instead of a robber or kidnapper, what you found was Hanma Shuji tied up in a big red ribbon. Smiling at you.
"Don't you merry christmas me." you didn't know what to say or do. You were scared out of your mind just now and that combined with the strange sight in front of you made you at a loss of... anything, really.
"Woah, that's a big knife... What were you going to do with that?˜" he sounded more amused than anything.
"You little... I don't... What is even happening?" you dropped the knife on the ground.
"Someone told me that you want 'Hanma Shuji' for christmas."
"Well, you know what I thought I was going to get for christmas? Kidnapped, that's what!" you yelled, not even caring about how loud you are right now.
"Hahahah, how amusing!" he laughed, seeming very satisfied.
"You won't be saying that after the things I will do to you. You know you can't escape when you're tied up, right?" a smirk crossed your face suddenly. A sense of boldness overtook you.
"Oooh, aren't you bold. ♡" his smile only widened.
₊˚⊹♡ Baji
"No way." you had to do a double take when you saw what you thought you saw.
Turns out this christmas is more interesting than you thought it would be. A present from Toman ended up being Baji Keisuke in the flesh.
"Mmmf!" he's probably telling you to free him right now, which admittedly, is hard to do when your mouth is gagged.
"Wow, this is like, the best present I ever got. I gotta thank the boys later." you walked closer to him, kneeling down and inspecting him in all his tied up glory.
Baji looked half angry half embarrased, and honestly that just made you want to tease him more. You kissed his cheek, smiling cheekily.
"Hmmf..." you laughed a little at his face.
"Mmmf! Hmmm!"
"Okay, okay, I get it, I'll let you out. But that doesn't mean that I'm done with you just yet." you smiled, taking the bow of the ribbon into your hands to untie it.
"Mmm..?!"
₊˚⊹♡ Mitsuya
"Me and Mana have a surprise for you." Luna ran up to you all of a sudden.
"What is it?" you placed your hands on your knees to get closer to Luna's height.
"Wait till christmas." that was Luna's only response before running off to continue playing with Mana.
"Hmmm..." you hummed, a bit confused.
.
"Was this... Luna and Mana's gift?" you looked at the comically large christmas present under the tree. What in the world did those two give you?
You carefully removed the lid of the box, worried about the contents. Only to find Mitsuya inside.
"I- What the hell?" Luna and Mana sure are some evil children.
"I don't know either. Hakkai approached me just now and said "sorry" before wrapping me up and putting me in this box with no further explanation." his eyes never left yours.
"I think I know who's idea this was..." you stepped inside the box, sitting directly across from him. He raised an eyebrow.
"Your little sisters told me something about a surprise for christmas..."
"Oh my god. That explains... a lot." he looked as if he just made a big realisation. You couldn't help but laugh a little at the sight.
You pecked his lips all of a sudden, making him jump slightly. "Tell them thank you later."
"Shouldn't you be thanking them?" he smiled.
"No, I'm sure you'll be the one thanking them tommorow." His eyes widened at your mischevious smirk.
an early christmas present for my mikey, hanma, baji and mitsuya babes 💕
i want to make sure yall are well fed with that christmas dinner this year
#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo revengers x you#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x you#mikey x y/n#mikey x reader#mikey x you#sano manjiro x reader#hanma x reader#hanma shuuji x reader#hanma x you#baji x you#baji keisuke x reader#baji x reader#mitsuya takashi x reader#mitsuya x you#mitsuya x reader#mitsuya x y/n#baji x y/n#hanma shuji
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Brewing Storms
A storm is brewing - oh yes, a literal one too. Tav's scared to be alone during a thunderstorm. Astarion is reluctant but stays to provide some comfort - and realises it might have been one of the better things to happen to him.
Author's Note: I started this a while ago and then stuff got in the way - like Gale for example (lol) - and now I'm happy to be back to write something soft for Astarion and Tav!
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You)
Warnings: Talk of trauma, very light smut
Wordcount: 2,4k
~~~
Astarion and you had fallen into a sort of weird routine with your little late night escapades. Since the party after you saved the Grove and the first night you’ve spent together you had come together time and time again.
First only every couple of days. Always meeting somewhere away from camp and then sneaking back sometime before the others woke up. Although you were surely fair they all knew already anyway. But now you were almost spending every night together. Fortunately for the two of you, being elven meant you were still getting enough rest despite the nightly adventures.
Astarion kept feeding you his cheesy lines – you ate them right up. No one had ever given you this kind of attention. And as much as you knew that it was an act: how could you resist? You had never experienced such flattery nor could anyone you’d shared intimacy with ever compare to Astarion. But that wasn’t even the main thing.
You’d had crushes before, you’d fallen in love before but you were pretty sure it had never been quite like this. Your whole chest sometimes ached when you looked at Astarion. Sometimes when you caught him in a rare moment when he let his perfected mask drop for a second you saw the bottomless sadness and worry in his eyes. And all you wished for was to erase whatever it was that caused that sadness – to keep him safe and always give him something to smile about.
You had quite positively fallen for the vampiric elf. What had been a crush at first had very quickly become an unyielding need in your heart: desperate to be near him, to hear his voice, talk to him, to laugh at his sassy comments, to lay in his arms and to hold him in turn. Out of everything you surely hadn’t wanted or planned to fall in love with everything else going on – but there you were.
You were a hopeless case – even though you were sure it would come back to bite you (and maybe even literally): be it that he lost interest in you way quicker than you would like or that he had ulterior motives and that you were merely a means to an end.
In fact, you were entirely sure that there was more to Astarion. You weren’t all fooled and blinded by your brewing emotions for the vampire. Maybe not really the first time, but as you got more used to sharing a bed with Astarion you were well aware that it seemed like he wasn’t fully there with you.
You could take only guesses at why that was exactly – and you didn’t like any of those.
At several occasions you had tried to bring it up. But he had swatted your concerns away every time, just making a sultry joke or drowning you with kisses until you had forgotten what you had wanted to say. In any case he always pushed you to get back into his arms.
Gladly, you would have offered him an open ear – your heart was already wide open.
But you were sure this wouldn’t last. You were in way over your head and you so desperately wanted to avoid breaking the spell.
And as much as you would have wished for him to open up more, to let you in a bit more and as much as you would have liked to confess the way you felt: you didn’t think you could do it without ruining whatever it was between the two of you.
At least, he seemed to be a bit more present when he was with you of late. The changes seemed subtle enough, but you were convinced that it slowly became different. Maybe it was just that the two of you had gotten used to this dance now, but you could swear his hands lingered longer now on your skin, that his kisses became deeper and more tender, that the way he looked at you became softer sometimes. And that those moments, when he seemed miles away, became fewer.
Tonight, when you had set up camp it had seemed like a storm was brewing.
You had already felt tense when you had noticed: growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate as a child with nowhere safe to go had traumatised you for life. Especially when it came to storms: too many nights you’d had to spend outside somewhere while the rain kept pouring down.
But worst had always been the thunder. Every single one like an explosion while a little child sat somewhere cowered trying to stay safe and crying from fear and loneliness. Even when you had gotten older and had always managed to secure a safe spot for sleeping and shelter the fear of thunderstorms had remained.
And thus far you’d gotten lucky that there had been no storms since this whole chaos had started. But the stroke of luck was over now it seemed.
When Astarion had thrown you certain looks after the party had gone to unwind each on their own after eating, you had very rambly and awkwardly suggested to maybe spend the night in your tent this night, because the others surely knew anyway and what if it started pouring and wasn’t it more comfortable anyway?
You just were desperate to not be somewhere outside when the thunderstorm was going to hit – and maybe even not alone.
And Astarion had looked at you suspiciously with a raised eyebrow, surely noticing that something was up. But in the end, he had simply shrugged and followed you to your tent.
So now you lay pressed against each other. Astarion on top of you, his body delightfully weighing you down, both of your shirts already off and his hands kept roaming your body as you gratefully gave in to his open-mouthed kisses. His hand had just dipped below the waistline of your trousers when you could hear the first far away rumbling.
Immediately you tensed a little but forced yourself to try and not be bothered by it. Astarion’s kisses wandered down your throat now.
A second already much louder rumble. You gasped.
And apparently Astarion had noticed that it wasn’t because of his touch – you could almost feel how he had furrowed his brows. But he kept silent and continued to kiss and caress you, leaning on one of his forearms.
When a third roar of thunder made you actually wince and recoil, he pushed up on his arm and looked at you. The other hand though stayed right where it was inside your pants.
“Afraid of a little thunder, love?”, he said and cocked an eyebrow. His tone wasn’t even overly sassy but you still couldn’t help but to feel hurt.
More thunder. This time so loud it felt like it was exactly above you. You recoiled again and felt how panic rose in you. You pushed the vampire - who actually looked hurt by that - off of you. His hand slipping from where it had caressed you.
“Maybe I am afraid of thunder. So?”, you spat back while you sat up and hugged your knees to your naked chest. As much as you wanted the comfort of his arms: panic and whatever feeling it had been that had overcome you when Astarion had looked hurt when you’d pushed him back got the better of you.
Shame mixed with the fear and you could feel your throat close up.
Astarion had knelt back on the balls of his feet watching you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. He definitely didn’t seem as cocky as a few moments ago though.
You looked away as another thing spiced up the mix of emotions running high: worry, that you had just broke something that couldn’t be repaired.
“I-“, Astarion started and then stopped helplessly.
The vampire was actually worried about you in this moment. Astarion was surprised by the sudden outburst of emotion and he was certainly hurt that you pushed him away. But more than anything: he didn’t know what to do now. Quite obviously you were not in the mood anymore for getting down and dirty.
It occurred to him that he did not want you to be afraid and upset. But then again, he had no idea how to make it so. And on top of that: he was pretty sure you weren’t interested in anything of the sort. Sure, you were absolutely the one person he talked the most to in the party. And yes, you were always making sure he’d gotten enough blood – but that was probably because you had need of him being his fittest for fighting. Also, you did actually seem to care about what had happened to him, wanting to learn more about him – but…
The vampire was confused and helpless. So he opted for the one option he deemed reasonable: leave.
He grabbed his shirt and started pulling it over his head while saying: “Alright, since it seems there won’t be any naughty indulgence tonight, I guess I better get back to my tent and you can try and-“
He was interrupted by you grabbing his wrist firmly.
“Please”, you pleaded, “don’t leave me alone.”
You were desperate: you didn’t want him to leave, you didn’t want to have ruined the delicate thing that had been forming between you.
Astarion let his shirt drop again and looked at you. Your eyes were filled with tears and full of fear. His confusion became even more: “Darling, I’m not… Maybe you should ask the druid to… help you. Maybe he has something herbal to-“ You basically yanked on the vampire’s arm.
“No please, Astarion, I just… want you to stay here with me. Just… hold me? Please?”, you pleaded with him as tears started to stream down your face.
You really didn’t want to be alone for one but also you were desperate to feel his arms around you again – to be sure he would still want to hold you, as much as wanting his comfort.
Astarion’s brows furrowed again but he dropped his shirt again and crawled over to you as you shyly opened up your arms to him to be cradled by the vampire. He slid his arms around you and softly moved you until you were laying there: him on his back with you carefully snuggled up against his chest – skin on skin.
The relief you felt was almost instant. Not only because he had agreed to stay but also feeling his body against yours immediately made some of the tension inside you ease.
Astarion reluctantly started to stroke your back as you buried your face against his chest. It all felt more than just a little awkward and you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, but you just wrapped your arms around the vampire and tried to calm yourself.
Still tears kept coming and thunder was rolling in quicker now. Then the rain started as well and became a constant drumroll on your tent. The loud rumbles kept going and made you wince from time to time, but it was now considerably better than before.
Astarion grew more confident with just stroking your back. He even carefully placed a kiss on the top of your head at one point, in your all messed up hair. You both eased into this rather unfamiliar form of closeness.
After being stressed about the coming storm all evening, you felt that your body couldn’t retain the tension anymore. You weren’t entirely sure what all this meant for Astarion and you, but you forced yourself to just stay in this moment. Because this already was something you wouldn’t have thought to ever be possible. It was tender and sweet. Something you would have never imagined when this vampire had, upon first meeting him, thrown you on the ground and threatened you with a knife.
You were so desperate to hold onto this. So, you wrapped your arms around him a little tighter and cautiously tangled your legs with his. He let it happen.
And Astarion – Astarion’s mind was racing, utterly confused by the turn the night had taken. It definitely wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy this outcome – to his own surprise. Quite the opposite actually.
When the thunder subsided and the rain tap-tap-tapping on the tent ceiling was what remained of the storm and he felt you quite noticeably relax into his arms even more – his chest started to ache.
He was overthrown by his own sentiment and the trust you put into him; surprised, scared even.
In his thoughts Astarion kept turning around the fact how you had specifically asked him to stay with you although you had so visibly been upset. More upset even than he had ever seen you in any battle. And that you had wanted nothing but to be held in his arms. And he – to his own surprise – had been happy to be there for you, proud even, realising that he really wanted you to be alright.
You hadn’t even talked since he had taken you in his arms. Just felt the connection, your skin warm on his. His hands hesitatingly caressing and trying to comfort you while your tears subsided and your breathing became more even.
And even though it had been you who had pleaded for comfort – Astarion could feel it too. Felt, how the warmth of your body soaked into his undead body and your breath brushed over his naked upper body – now in a steady and calm rhythm again. You were so close, he could even feel the beat of your steadying heartbeat through your conjoined chests.
And when Astarion was sure that you must’ve drifted off into your dreams – because he had held you – he kept staring up at the ceiling of the tent.
The rain had become almost non-existent after what must’ve been hours now.
The vampire’s chest still ached with something he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge yet. But he could feel that it had become something way too big to ignore. Something that would soon be unleashed – for better or for worse. And he was frightened about that.
But not in this moment. This moment he would hold onto. So he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter still, closed his eyes and full on buried his face in your hair while he was so fully aware of the feeling of your body against his.
Then he whispered so silently, even the last of the raindrops would have drowned out the words. So silently, because he was still so unsure, so scared and the words were only meant for him – and maybe sometime for you: “My love, what ever have you done to me?”
#astarion#astarion x tav#baldurs gate#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x oc#astarion x you#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion ancunin#bg3 spoilers#tav#one shot#drabble#bg3
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