#his 'whim approvals' are so funny

[perilegs]

not an astarion defender in the traditional sense, but in the sense that the whims he gets approval from are funny. i would also approve of someone throwing shit at people who asked them to smear their face with said shit

#it's funny to be a menace in a video game and im not going to pretend its not #killing a clown IS funny #his 'whim approvals' are so funny #leevi liveblogs #on another note ive seen people be like ''astarions traumatized so he acts like that :(' or 'despite all that he could still be an asshole #both true but i feel like both are reductive #when it comes to his more cruel approval it's clear he acts the way he does due to his past. (i know thats like a duh no shit we all do tha #) but i mean like. if you look at all the trauma he's gone through and think about how it has affected him as a person #it makes sense for him to be selfish and maybe even cruel #and there are reasons he acts the way he does. but it doesn't mean he's done nothing wrong ever. it means he's an asshole who has reasons #to act like an asshole. #no ones past is an excuse for the way they're acting. yes it's a reason. but just because you went through unimaginable horrors doesnt mean #that everyone should ignore how you act toward others. he can still be held accountable while understanding where he's coming from #but i also don't like people ignoring his past experiences and seeing him as just a selfish asshole who is and has always been #and will always be an asshole just for funsies #does that make sense #also sometimes people read too much into what was meant as a funny little option #like. you know how some games have a serious main story and the most batshit silly side quests and no ones holding the side quests as the #absolute truth of it all #does anyone know what im talking about #idk talking in the tags with the character limit is a pain in the ass i have a lot more to say

[joonberriess]

LOVIN’ YOU ౨ৎ ‧₊˚

TAGS — unprotected sex, nasty sex, late valentines gift, rough sex, romantic(?), daddy kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, possessive!jk, baby no. 2 might have been made here, spoiler: it was, jk is meannnnn, heavy dom-sub vibes, edging, fingering, oc loves being degraded for being a whore for jk, it gets super soft, love making, oc is a bratty sub in this one, heavy degradation, slut shaming(?), oc wants to CUCK jk as a joke but he gets his lick back on her lmao, PET NAMESSS, this is a spin-off from the main series of flawless!

WORD COUNT — 3.5 k

“Happy anniversary love.” Jungkook sleepily mumbles as he passes by. He leans over to land a kiss on your forehead, his hand slips from the back of your waist and over your hip settling with a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head and rest it against his bicep while brushing your teeth. We look good, you think while admiring Jungkook’s bare form. He had decided to forgo a sleeping shirt last night and chose only his slutty silk pajamas you had both bought together on a whim. You were wrapped up in a baby pink robe with a pretty little night slip underneath.

“Is Jae awake,” you softly ask while admiring your appearance in the luxurious mirror. Jungkook says something but you’re busy rinsing your mouth out so you don’t catch it, and by the time you come back up he’s brushing his own teeth with a silly little smile on his face.

“What?” You purse your lips, “What’s so funny?” He shakes his head and spits out the paste from his mouth leaving you a bit annoyed at your husband’s antics. “Hmph.”

You lay your head back on his bicep again and lift your phone up to snap a picture of the two of you. “Say cheese,” you softly giggle while zooming in on his face, bursting out into laughter as Jungkook gives you a foamy smile.

You peep the way your diamond ring and wedding band glistens under the sunlight pouring in through the open french doors, Jungkook’s own wedding band shining just as bright too. You wrap your ringed hand around him and snap a few more pictures for later. “Jungkook–you’re making a mess.” You sigh as water droplets hit your thighs from his little mouth rinsing session.

“Sorry.” Jungkook wipes his face down with a towel and nods in approval at something, “All the little old French ladies are gonna be all over me, aren’t you worried someone’s gonna take me away sweetheart?” He tenderly cups your cheeks and squeezes.

This certainly has your brow raising in question, “Aren’t you worried a French man is going to take me away? What if he whisks me off to the Eiffel Tower and proposes to me? Hm?” You play at his game, watching in satisfaction as a twinge of possessiveness and jealousy spark in his dark onyx eyes.

“Take you? Baby over my dead body,” he tugs you in and holds you against him, “wish a motherfucker would..” He grunts under his breath, the tone sends a delicious little shiver down your spine. You swear you have a second heartbeat right now, you just loved when he got like this.

His big greedy hands grab handfuls of your ass through the flimsy little thong you were wearing under your night slip. A tiny gasp slips from your lips as he abruptly smacks both cheeks making you jump just a little. “Bet you don’t like that huh?” You softly smirk. Jungkook grumbles like you already know the answer to that.

He leans down to leave a flurry of kisses all over your neck and shoulder, irritably growling when your robe gets in the way as he tugs the entire thing off. “Just the fuckin’ thought of someone putting their hands on you pisses me off sweetheart—not everyone should have the luxury of being blessed with your soft little cunt and perky ass.” He whispers darkly in your ear.

“You like that? Like hearing how much I love this slutty body? It makes me never wanna let you leave those sheets darling, especially with how good you looked for me on the bed last night.” Jungkook wraps his lips around a hickey he left last night, immediately he starts sucking on it with the intention of making it darker.

You mewl softly at his words and bite your lip, “You know I don’t want anyone else,” you flutter your lashes coyly, “ ‘s the only cock I’ll ever need daddy, no one can fuck me like you do,” you lean up to whisper low and sultry in his ear, “so show them who I belong to.”

Jungkook groans at your seductive tone and hauls you up by the back of your thighs, “Ain’t I just the luckiest bastard sweetheart? What’d I do to deserve such a pretty little thing like you?” He muses while untying the bow holding your robe together.

Your robe falls apart, unveiling your tits as if they were a piece of artwork for Jungkook’s hungry eyes to feast on. He licks his lips darkly, eyes briefly flickering up to stare into your own. “Please daddy.” You softly say while spreading your legs wider, hooking your ankles together behind his strong muscular back, tugging him closer to you.

“Why should I? Thought your little french boy’s can do it better than me?” He huskily whispers, hot breath hovering over your pebbled nipple, “Will he fuck you the way I do? Have you screaming and shaking? More importantly sweetheart,” he whispers low, “will he be able to satisfy you the way I can?” He engulfs your nipple in his mouth.

You bite your lip and lean your head back while running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, will he?” You breathily whisper, breath hitched when Jungkook uses a hint of teeth on your sore teat. “Maybe he can, I’ll even put on a show for you daddy—so you can see how pretty I look taking someone else’s cock.”

Jungkook’s grip tightens to the point that the pressure has you squirming, “What’s the matter daddy? Thought you wanted to see how pretty I look hanging off a cock.”

“Fuckin’ minx,” he growls pulling away from your wet nipple, “that what you want? You gonna let your daddy watch someone else stuff their dick into that whore-ish cunt of yours? Is that it sweetheart? Baby wants to be a whore?” He lands a punishing smack against your ass cheek, causing it to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet bathroom.

You arch your back and whine, “For you,” you mewl softly, “only you daddy.” You finally gave in because the tension was rising and it was proving too much to handle. Jungkook didn’t give a fuck, he could play it that game—far worse too.

“Now it’s only me huh? Where’d my little whore go hm? The one who wanted to put on a show for her daddy?” He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together, “Hm?”

You whine again but he doesn’t let up on your suffering, “Not so bold now, huh sweetheart? Cat got your tongue baby?” He leans in, mocking your little whines in his own husky voice which immediately has you slicking up. “Why the pout?” He smirks like he isn’t the one responsible for this sweet torture.

“Because..”

“Because,” he mocks with a pout while squeezing your chin and such, waiting for a coherent answer. “Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re a mess.”

You bite your lip at his mean tone and arch into his touch, desperately wiggling and bucking your hips just to feel— you’ll take anything at this point. Jungkook stops you with his hand and holds you still, “Look at you, humping me like a little bitch in heat.” He cruelly chuckles.

“Jungkook,” you softly sob, they’re not real tears anyways but still it’s not fair that he’s not giving you the fucking you deserve. At least a good dick sucking session would suffice but you can’t even have that. ;(

“Say it,” he reaches down to cup you through your thong, “say you’re mine sweet girl,” he purrs.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’ as his fingers breach your soaked thong, he dips them in teasingly with his fingertips brushing against your poor clit. “ ‘m yours, only yours.” You whimper softly, “Please..? Want your fingers daddy,” you wiggle around again.

Your devious husband doesn’t even warn you before he’s plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt. A breathless cry escapes and you toss your head back from the sudden burst of hot pleasure in your loins, “Mm..!”

Jungkook doesn’t even let you compose yourself before he’s curling his ring and index finger up to brush against your g-spot. He has no problem really, he knows your little cunt like the back of his hand, he’ll have you dripping in no time. “Like this? Or like this?” He suddenly stops and shifts away from your sensitive spot.

While it felt heavenly, nothing compared to Jungkook finger-fucking you into oblivion while hitting your g-spot over and over again. You find yourself panting hotly while scrambling to get a grip on his arm, “Yes..! Like that, please,” you softly cry out. You desperately roll your hips up, your pussy greedily swallowing up every inch of those thick fingers of his.

“That feel good?” He coos while tilting your face with his free hand, “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers for me like a good girl.”

You whimper when he says “good girl” it has your stomach fluttering all over again as you arch into his touch. He switches up his pace and fucks his fingers in deeper and deeper until he’s knuckle-deep inside that sopping cunt. Endless copious amounts of slick dribble down your pussy to your ass, making a real mess on that white marble counter..

“J-Jungkook..!” You breath out while digging your nails into his wrist, the pleasure was beginning to rise higher and higher, only making that little knot in your stomach tighten with each stroke.

Your husband doesn’t seem to mind you falling apart like that, in fact he speeds his pace up and rapidly fucks his fingers into your cunt. You’re literally letting out dribbles of squirt each time he fucks them back in, the pressure in your lower belly and the air around you turns hot. You find yourself shaking under his rough ministrations.

“C-Coming,” you gasp loudly, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

Right as your pussy reaches that sweet abyss, Jungkook suddenly yanks his fingers out leaving your pussy gaping around nothing. You sob in frustration and let your head hit the mirror with a dull thud, “ ‘s not fair!”

Jungkook wipes his digits over your pussy before holding them up to your lips, “Suck.” He leaves no room for argument as you obediently take his fingers into your mouth and lick them clean. He watches with a dark expression, “Good girl, that’s enough. Next time you wanna play like that make sure you can handle the heat sweetheart. Cute.” He smirks evilly as he pats your cheek and heads out of the bathroom.

You bite back a groan of frustration, the edging is so going to be worth it in the long run though.. You lick your lips and hop off the counter on shaky legs, your orgasm may have been ruined but you still had a few things in your head that you wanted to try out on your dear husband.

+

“What’s wrong my love?” Jungkook asks from behind you as he gently massages your aching feet, “Is it the heels? You should’ve taken my shoes baby.” He softly mumbles.

It was nighttime by now and after a whole day of shopping and sight-seeing you were honestly ready to just hit the hay. Everytime he applied pressure on your sore tired feet, you couldn’t help the pained moan you’d let out. You were currently lying face down on the bed with your feet kicked back on Jungkook’s lap, just enjoying that foot rub.

“I’m okay, I was having too much fun to notice.” You softly reply while tilting your head to look back at him, “.. Jungkookie, I kind of had something on my mind—well it’s been in there for a good while now.” You softly admit.

“Okay,” he softly replies, ready and attentive.

You fully turn around and crawl over to sit on his lap, “What if we have another baby?” You toy with his necklace and pout, “It’s just that… Jae’s getting older and the house feels a little lonely now that he hangs out with friends and stuff..”

“So my sweetheart wants a baby?” He says with a soft look in his eye.

You timidly nod and wrap your arms around his neck, “Think about it, another mini-us running around the house like Jae used to,” you chuckle, “you remember when he was a devious devil…always getting into your office even though I told him not to,” you say fondly.

He chuckles endearingly, “Of course I remember baby, those were the best years of my life—raising him and coming home to you.”

“Soooo, that’s why I think it’d be a great idea to have another baby!” You giggle happily while smooching over his lips, “Cos you’re not gettin’ any younger, old man.” You stick your tongue out teasingly.

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “You’ve been hanging out with Jae too much, but no, unfortunately you’re stuck with this old man.” He snorts despite not really being THAT old like his own son made him out to be.

“You’re MY old man though,” you kiss his nose gently, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You cheekily grin.

He brings you in for a tender kiss, laying gentle pecks over your lips until you’re whining for him to stop. “I love you sweetheart.” He murmurs softly while stroking your hair, “I’m glad you decided to stick around, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I mean, did I really have a CHOICE?” You roll your eyes with a smile, “I’m kidding love, you know I would do it all over again for you. Nothing in the world could ever change that.” You softly say and bring him closer.

Jungkook doesn’t protest when your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your back as his eyes slip shut. The kiss itself feels magical and you can’t help but wrap your arms tighter around him in a loving embrace. You break from the kiss to catch your breath, there’s a small string of saliva that connects your lips.

“C’mere.” Jungkook mumbles and brings you back in for another sweet kiss. He slowly falls back onto the bed and brings you with him, never parting from the messy spit-slick kiss.

You and Jungkook don’t last long just kissing because you find yourself tugging on his clothes and helping him strip vice-versa. The two of you find yourselves under the warm silky sheets, and a rose-scented aroma that fills the entire room after Jungkook decides to light the candle on a whim.

The sheer intimacy of it all, you’re not in a rush this time—this time is something meaningful. You can’t really find it in yourself to come out of that little romantic bubble right now, everything just wants to make you cry. It literally makes your heart hurt over how sweet and loving Jungkook is…what did you do to deserve him?

“Hi.” You softly say when Jungkook and you come face to face after kissing for what seemed like hours.

“Hi beautiful.” He nuzzles your nose gently and presses his forehead against yours.

You blush shyly and look away, “Yah, just shut up and give me my baby already.. All that talk and no action,” you giggle, “pussy isn’t gonna breed itself.” Jungkook’s mouth drops open at what you say and it sends you reeling into explosive laughter.

“Where did my sweetheart go huh? ‘S like a little devil just popped in to say hi,” he recovers from the initial shock with a low chuckle, “you’re gonna send me to an early grave.” He groans.

You lean down to whisper in his ear, “C’mon, I know you wanna fuck me till I catch—till I’m full and round with our baby again.” You purr cupping his jawline, “Turns you on doesn’t it? Knowing damn well that’s your baby you put in me.”

He swallows harshly and nods, “Love it sweetheart, I’ll die a happy man knowing that I got to put my kids in you before any other bastard could.” He growls.

“Then get to it,” you softly coo, “or I’ll find someone else to do the job for you.”

That turns him on like a switch, he flips the two of you over and pins your arms above your head with a dark look. “Yeah? Guess I gotta show you what you’d be missing then baby,” he takes a hold of his cock and slaps the wet tip over your pussy, “gonna make sure you’re filled by the end of the night.”

You moan softly at his words and spread your legs wider, “I want it—every last drop of it daddy, want you to breed me.” You pout softly while pursing your lips for a kiss.

He kisses you like a princess but fucks you like a whore, which is what you LOVED about him. You reach down to stroke his hard cock, running your thumb over the leaky tip and over every vein on his shaft. He looks like he’s in bliss as he bites his bottom lip and watches you with hooded eyes.

“Want it in me,” you softly say while rubbing his cock through your soft squishy folds, “can I please?”

“Fuck—anything you want babydoll.”

You give him the most precious smile ever and then push his cock towards your greedy hole. You easily take the head with ease as it pops in slowly. The two of you hiss low at the pressure as Jungkook slips inch after inch into your pussy.

“More, please,” you breathlessly sigh while laying your head back on the soft pillow.

Jungkook doesn’t even think he has the strength to say no to begin with. He holds himself up over you while slowly bumping his hips into yours. His cock is utterly drenched with your slick, the slide is messy and loud whenever he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he hisses and drops down to his elbows as he cages you in, “you feel so fucking good sweetheart.”

His balls are pressed snug, showing you that he really is taking this breeding thing seriously—more than ever now because you both have a mutual goal in mind. “It’s okay daddy,” you softly say, “I can take it.”

Jungkook pauses to look at you, damn near cursing when he sees that expression you got on your face. He hooks your thighs over his arms and folds you into a mating press with your hips tilted up, “There you go sweetheart, jus’ relax ‘n take it for me sweetheart.”

He whispers more praises under his breath while rocking into you gently. His pace doesn’t seem to stay the same because gradually he begins speeding up. Much like yesterday he really lets hell rain on your poor cunt.

You whimper and cry out while holding on with your toes curled from the pleasure. He doesn’t even bother with teasing or anything because he hits that sweet spot inside of you relentlessly. Each time he drives his cock in there’s a lewd wet smack, and the noises only get louder from there.

“T-There..! Don’t stop, please,” you whimper and grit your teeth, “feels so good..”

Jungkook huffs quietly and leans down to kiss over your bruised neck, “Yeah baby? You gonna let me fill that pussy up till you’re dripping? Gonna let me use it till I’m done?”

“Yes!” You gasp, “Anything for you,”

“For me?” He coos as he cups your chin and tilts your face to him, “Cute.” He smirks softly and continues fucking into you relentlessly.

The smacking sounds get louder and the bed creaks from force. You quite literally are seeing stars as he rocks your entire world, you can’t even form a coherent sentence let alone see through your starry vision.

“Jungkook..!” You whimper through your moans, “ ‘m gonna cum, please,” you sob as the tension begins rising, “can I, please daddy?” You whine out while gritting your teeth.

He stops to let your legs fall from his grip as he changes the pace and grabs onto your soft hips. He uses it as leverage to fuck into your cunt with repeated wet smacks. “Go on,” he grunts, “cum for me.” He spits between the two of you, right where your pussy opens up beautifully for him as he slides his thumb over your slippery clit.

Your mouth falls open when he rubs side to side in tandem with his thrusts. Your back arches and the air gets knocked out of you as you cum with intense waves of pleasure. “Jungkook,” you mewl desperately while pawing at him.

He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you go silent and your weak hands push at his wrist again. He growls low and rubs the sensitive bud faster until you’re drenching his lap and the sheets slick. His eyes briefly flicker up to see that you’re in bliss right now.

You feel the telltale signs of his orgasm as his cock throbs painfully inside of you. It only takes a few more pumps until Jungkook’s pressing his hips tight against you and milking every drop of his cum. His ragged moans and breathing have you getting wet all over again.

“Mm..” You tiredly let your hands flop on the bed, “I’m so sleepy..” You softly say.

Jungkook quietly grunts, “Just rest, I got you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

[hellfire-fist]

This is an appetizer for my upcoming "ZoLu in the Live Adaption: borderline delusional analysis by a humble shipper"

The chemistry?????? I wasn't even pretending to be clueless about their scenes when I started watching, but WOW—the actors delivered their whole entire being into playing Zoro and Luffy, it's wild.

Where do I even begin 😭

Iñaki, God bless this child, he really encapsulated Luffy's character well, but I have to be honest, to me, he's more of a variation of the original, I mean obviously. You can tell they tinkered with Luffy a little, and I haven't decided if I'm truly okay with it. But I love this Luffy, like what everyone has been saying, we love him in every universe/medium. Anyhow~ the way he looks at Zoro is just straight out of a romance novel. He looks at him with so much awe, like the mere sight of Zoro gets him so giddy it's so asfskdjklagslshkskahs don't even get me started on how he first held sight of Zoro, he fanboyed so hard 😭 his facial expressions were so cute 🥹 I just—it really was the perfect way to translate Luffy's veneration and approval of Zoro. 10/10

Now with Zoro 🧘🏻‍♀️ (there's a lot here)

In every universe he truly is just whipped for Luffy. Granted, he was full of distrust in the first episode which was normal in his situation. Him somehow going along with Luffy's whims in one way or another is just comedic and quite romantic really. It's crazy how they have so much pull towards each other, even without them intending to 😫

Props to Mackenyu because he played the fascination with Luffy so well. That scene where monkeyboy got him out of the cross, and asked him to close the hole for him?? Zoro's facial expression in that scene was one of intrigue and *mild* curiosity. And then we get to Syrup Village and he just couldn't hide the fondness anymore, it was so funny to me. Like even if I take off the romantic lenses I have for this ship, the way Zoro just looks at Luffy—it's like he's barely holding it together. Like he can't believe he's following this boy, but it just feels so right you know? 🥹

The fcking dialogue he had with Cabaji fcking killed me.

"Got somewhere else to be?"

"didn't used to think so but Luffy changed that" BOY—

Luffy literally changed this man's brain chemistry, he gave him DIRECTION! how can I not be feral about this??? HOW TF 😭

anime and manga Zoro would be so proud of L-A! Zoro.

#there's more I have to say but I have to chill #I'm in college y'all forgive me #one piece live action #one piece live adaptation #one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #zoro #luffy #strawhat pirates #strawhats #zolu #otp

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

Weird thing, but I miss Alfred.

It's shaping up to be one of the longest "deaths" of a famous, legacy secondary character, at least in modern DC history. And in that way, it served the narrative pretty well, subverting the usual problems with death in comics. Sure, it was all over an ego trip some bad former Editor in Chief decided to have on a whim; King didn't really plan to kill off Alfred so nonchalantly and it wasn't meant to stick. People know that, it's well documented and they even had foreshadowing that he was Clayface being a part of the plan. So the fact that it sticks should be lauded, right? This is, after all, how death works.

And, sure, it made some characters grow. Bruce, specifically, moving to a brownstone and taking care of his son all by himself is a genuinely cool idea and I'm enjoying seeing him bond with Damian in ways he never bonded with the others. Dick as a billionaire philanthropist dedicating his newfound fortune to Alfred, his late sponsor, is a genuine stroke of genius. Actual change and progress in comic books, holy shit. A feast Spider-Man fans don't even remember how it tastes!

Yet it sometimes feels like you're reading a Batman book in an empty house, because Alfred is gone, and it was over nothing. An unplanned death that took him suddenly with no real gravitas or preparation. Not exactly the same -- okay, not the same by a wide margin, -- but it kinda reminds me of how Buffy fans reacted to The Body.

The character was here, and now they're not, and it genuinely feels empty and real in a way you're not really expecting popcorn media to feel. There's no power fantasy or melodrama or anything. Someone broke his neck and threw his body on the floor, and that's the end of Alfred Pennyworth.

And like, yeah, man, people obviously write stories about other versions that are alive and flashbacks. Nobody is literally gone from comics, things don't move forward *exclusively*, Alfred is a brand unto himself and will never be truly gone. It's the same reason why aging up Jon Kent isn't that big a deal; Super Sons will release as long as someone gets the approval, it's just going to be a flashback. It's fine. But to see the world having to move forward without him has been quite something, you know? People have had big personal moments that he's not there for.

Dick and Barbara got back together, Jason moved to the Hill, Tim got a boyfriend -- it's the kind of stuff these kids could rely on Alfred to talk about, or to help out with, or to simply Be There as a zealous figure for them, and he's just. Not. And the story moves on all the same, yet now it feels like there's a panel missing, somewhere.

Albeit they had like two or three individual times when the actual fucking ghost of Alfred Pennyworth came to say goodbye and peace out to Bruce, I still think it's a pretty solid guess that he'll come back before the end of the decade. The nature of comics means sometimes you need a back from the dead story to keep things fresh, and those can be done extremely well -- Resurrection of Magneto might be the best thing released in the Krakoa era, as far as fully realized minis go. But...

Shit, Alfred missed Damian going to school, you know? That's really sad. I miss Alfred. In a way I'll never miss Uncle Ben or the Wayne couple, I really miss opening a monthly and reading the latest wit out of Alfred's mouth at his silly son and his funny crusade. The nature of comic books being infinite until they're cancelled means this sort of relationship just doesn't get cut like this very often, and I can't recall the last time I *cared* when they tried cutting it.

It will be an awkward day when he comes back and it's back to normal business again, honestly. There's now an understanding of what Batman is without Alfred that I feel they don't have a great way of addressing. Don't really envy the writer who gets the job.

#alfred pennyworth #batman #dc comics #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #comics #comic books #barbara gordon #i mean ultimately it's just another era but it's still bizarre how we got here #nothing quite says emerging storylines like some guy who pays you saying he liked the fan reaction to your fakeout #so the fakeout is real now actually #king's Batman is such a mess

[rorywritesjunk]

And I can see it each and every time you smile

The Wives have a Girls' Night once a month and Buggy finally gets invited.

Rating: PG Warning: None except Buggy cries once. A/N: Inspired by the ask the lovely @hey-august sent me about The Wives having a Girls' Night. And then I ran with it.

Title comes from "Freshly Laundered Linen" by Boom Forest.

The first clue was the basket of snacks Birdie carried onto the ship. How did she always know where to find them whenever they were at a port? They were things Buggy had never even heard of, but when he looked at the packaging, he figured they must be fancy because the names of the snacks had fancy symbols over the letters while being written in cursive. She wouldn’t even let him have one to try, which was just heartbreaking because she always baked the best treats and let Buggy have the first taste of whatever she made.

The second was Cupcake carrying a few bottles of wine and rum in her arms while holding a few glasses pinched between her fingers. Buggy offered to help her carry them but Cupcake shrugged him off. It was hard not to feel dejected that his wife didn’t need him for that, but what was worse was that he noticed she had a fourth glass. Did they have a friend they were inviting over? How was that fair?

When he saw Sunny in her room a few hours later, a pile of things on her bed, he knew what was going on. He saw the cute clown printed jammies she bought one time on a whim, the fluffy blue bathrobe, and what she called her ‘pampering kit’: manicure set, face masks, hair accessories, everything to feel pampered.

He wasn’t jealous, not at all. Buggy loved that his wives had a Girls Night where they could just be with each other and not with him. He encouraged it, even if he heard them laughing throughout the ship, the murmur of their voices carrying through the walls as they had a Husband Free Evening. He wondered what it was that was so funny. Were they laughing at him, or maybe something he said earlier? Honestly, how could they have that much fun without him around? 

Buggy wasn’t sulking through dinner. He was just feeling a little put out because he knew that he would be alone for a few hours while the three of them disappeared somewhere on the ship (he has never figured out where they end up each time). He tried not to look miserable through dinner, but his wives were well aware how he was feeling and it was Sunny who finally said something.

“What are you doing after dinner, honey?” She asked while Cupcake started clearing the table. Buggy shrugged, pushing his plate away before letting his head drop on the table with a loud sigh.

“Being alone, wallowing away in self pity as I await my lovely wives to come back to me.” He lamented dramatically; all three rolled their eyes while Sunny reached over to touch his shoulder gently.

“So you don’t want to join in on our fun then?”

That’s all Sunny has to say for him to immediately perk up. He was invited to their Girls’ Night. What did that even mean? He didn’t know what to really expect except tasty snacks, drinks, and someone’s hair getting brushed.

~

“This is what you do?” Buggy asked, having changed into the silly clown jammies Sunny had for him while also wearing the fluffy pink robe. He was sitting on the floor in front of Sunny who was currently running a brush through his hair while Birdie worked on his nails and Cupcake rubbed a lemon scented face mask onto his face, making sure to be mindful of his nose. “You just do this for hours?”

“Mhm.” Cupcake said as she applied the mask thick onto his face. “It’s nice to just let loose and do nothing.”

“But you don’t want me around when you do it.” He frowned as Sunny sectioned his hair. All three paused for a moment before Birdie grabbed a bottle of nail polish and held it up for his approval. It was a dark green with a shimmery tone to it, which he nodded to.

“We figured you wouldn’t want to do it.” Cupcake told him with a shrug. “It’s not very exciting.”

“Yea, you aren’t really the type to just sit around, honey.” Sunny added in, leaning down to kiss the top of his head before she went back to brushing. 

“Besides, it’s a way for us to talk any problems out without you jumping in to try and save the day.” Birdie finished as she cleaned the tops of his nails before starting the top coat. “And it’s how we’ve been getting to know each other better.”

“I just don’t want you fighting!” Buggy insisted as Sunny sectioned out his hair for a crown braid. Cupcake finished with the face mask and wiped her hands clean with a washcloth. “That’s all!”

“Disagreements are normal.” Cupcake shrugged. “We have them sometimes.”

Buggy’s jaw dropped at that revelation. “Really?”

“Yea, which is why we do this.” Sunny stuck some hairpins between her teeth as she started the braid. “And I wanted to get Cupcake comfortable here, and then we wanted Birdie to feel the same, and so we have snacks, drinks, and laugh about how much we love this goofy clown who wanted to marry all three of us.”

“Yea, what kinda guy wants three wives who he can’t say no to?” Cupcake grinned as she grabbed a bag of cookies from the basket and opened them up. She helped herself to one first before offering one to Buggy. With his current position of Sunny braiding his hair and Birdie painting the nails on one hand, he didn’t want to move, so Cupcake placed one in his mouth. “I’ll get you a drink, babe.”

“So… so you don’t talk about me?” Buggy asked as he chewed the cookie. It was tasty but he thought Birdie’s baking was better. 

“We do, but not in the way you’re thinking.” Sunny assured him. “We tell each other stories of funny things you’ve done, or stupid things we’ve done, but it’s all fun, Buggy.”

Cupcake filled a glass with some kind of bright red wine and stuck an orange straw in it before holding it out for Buggy. He took a few sips, making a bit of a face at the taste. It was far too sweet for him, which told him this was a flavor Cupcake picked out. Birdie didn’t drink wine and Sunny tended to go for something dry. This was like drinking a liquified strawberry with more sugar than strawberry in it. 

“I’ve really enjoyed it.” Birdie said as she checked Buggy’s nails for any smudges. The green wasn’t quite his color but he chose it, she wouldn’t convince him otherwise. “I like hearing what you’ve all been up to, it’s comforting in a way, you know? It makes me feel like I made the right choice in coming here.” Once she was satisfied that hand was done, she moved onto the next hand. “I love you guys, it’s fun here.”

That was not really the wrong thing to say, because Buggy jerked his hands away to cover his face so they wouldn’t see the tears starting to stream down his face, forgetting the thickly applied face mask he was wearing. It smudged around, getting into his eyes and hair, and the lemon, though it smelled wonderful, stung his poor eyes. The three just watched him bring the mild chaos upon himself while he whined about his eyes hurting, how the mask mixture got into his mouth and how gross it tasted, and that some of it may have gotten up his nose. 

“Why is it you invited him again?” Cupcake sighed as she grabbed a washcloth to wipe his face while Birdie took hold of his hands to keep him from smushing the mask around even more. Sunny just shook her head as she grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

“Because we love him and he makes us laugh.” Sunny chuckled as Cupcake tried to wipe Buggy’s face clean while Birdie tried to fix the work she did on his nails. “Next Girls’ Night he can do our makeup if we don’t make him cry again.”

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #buggy and the wives

[sl-newsie]

Christmas Sweater (Dr. Spencer Reid x OC Coworker) *Christmas Special* 🎄

Summary:  It’s the FBI staff Christmas Party, and the theme is ugly sweaters much to others’ dislike. However, Spencer is determined to help his favorite coworker get into the Christmas spirit (kinda based on The Christmas Sweater by Michael Bublé).

Warnings: some slight talk of intimacy at the end.

“Are you serious?” I groan in disgust. “An ugly sweater party?”

“What’s so wrong with that?” Morgan asks openly. “It’ll be fun!”

I scoff. “Why on Earth would anyone wear something with the name ‘ugly’ in it? No, just- no!” I throw my hands up. “I will not wear one!”

“Aw, come on, Angelica!” Penelope begs. “It won’t be the same if you’re not there!”

Her enthusiasm is welcoming, however I’m still against the idea.

“I will be at the party, but I still refuse to wear anything that is deemed ‘ugly.’ Besides, it won’t make much difference. I’ve only been working here for a few months.”

“Won’t make a difference?” A voice speaks up from behind. We all turn to find Reid strutting over to join us, and I’m surprised to find him wearing a festive Christmas tie.

“I thought your thing was Halloween,” I comment.

“It is, but I like Christmas too.” Reid gives me a funny look. “What do you mean you ‘won’t make a difference?’ Of course you do!”

Morgan lets out a laugh. “Got a favorite coworker, do we? I’m crushed!” He dramatically clutches his chest.

Reid gives a shy smile and walks back to his desk. I don’t think it’s funny at all. I think it’s… cute. If I’ve already gotten Reid’s approval after being here for so little time, I don’t know what better compliment to look for. At first I was skittish around the BAU since they already seemed like an established family, but Spencer was the first one to help me open up. He noticed I liked reading history books on the jet, so of course that turned into hour-long conversations that helped turn him into my favorite coworker. We both know he’s the smartest, but he never flaunts it to me as much as he does to Morgan. If anything, it’s entertaining to see Reid taunt him! Especially after the cellphone prank! The more we talked, the more we seemed to enjoy each other’s company. On a crazy whim, we both kinda admitted that we’d want to go on a date. You might say that we asked each other out at the same time. We decided to take a walk through the park to keep it simple and professional in case things went south. But our date never faltered, and after a few weeks Reid asked if we’d want to try the official title of dating, though not yet using the terms ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend.’ Some might say it’s strange that we’re nearly 8 years apart in age, but that hasn’t posed a problem so far. It’s been a comfortable way of dating that I’d never have thought of if it weren’t for Spencer.

“Nice work, Morgan. Is making fun of Reid one of your hobbies or something?” 

“It’s my favorite!” Morgan laughs.

I just shake my head and head over to my own desk, which is right across from Reid’s.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s a great honor to be your favorite coworker,” I say with a smile at the profiling nerd.

Spencer looks up from his current novel with bright eyes. “So you’ll be at the party tonight?”

Internally, I groan at the thought of having to force myself to socialize with people I don’t know at a party with a theme that’s super lame. But Spencer’s pleading eyes are too capturing to ignore.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. But there’s no promise I’ll actually dress up.”

“Sounds good to me!” Spencer says cheerfully.

After work, I return home to find something that goes along the lines of ‘office Christmas party.’ I’m not one for dressing up unprofessionally, so the closest thing I can find is a classy red dress. So what if it doesn’t match the theme? Vintage Christmas is even better than ugly Christmas! I know Spencer’s wishing for me to dress up, but I can only give what I have. After I’ve applied some light makeup and curled my hair into a 50s updo, I decide it’s plenty enough for the party. Before I head over I grab some homemade cookies from the fridge to pass around, just so people will know I’m participating. By the time I drive back to the office, I can tell I’m one of the last to show and the party’s in full swing.

“Angelica! You made it!” Rossi walks up and hands me a glass of red liquid. He’s also chosen not to wear an ugly sweater and is instead sporting a pair of reindeer antlers. “I heard you were a bit undecided on coming, so here’s some punch to help kickstart your Christmas spirit.”

I thank him and take a sip of the punch to find it has a bit of a kick. “One of your creations?”

“One of my very best,” the Italian smiles proudly. “Relax, and enjoy yourself!”

I smile kindly. “I will! Thank you, Rossi.”

He goes back to conversing with other staff members, leaving me to make my way to the back so I can avoid the big crowd. Aside from the few who showed up from the BAU, I’ve got no clue who anyone is.

“Nice outfit. Did Marilyn Monroe lend it to you?” Someone asks in a mocking tone. 

I face the woman and see a nametag titled “Regina,” and look up to find a pointed face with brunette hair. Did she just insult me?

“That’d be nice if she did, considering she was one of the most popular models of the 1950s,” I state in an even voice and stick out a hand. “I’m Angelica, from the BAU. Nice to meet you.”

Regina looks at my hand as if I’ve offered her a piece of trash. “Hm. I’m surprised you don’t have blood caked under your nails. Don’t all you people ever do is deal with blood?”

My jaw basically drops to the floor, and before I can respond the sassy agent prances away.

“God, how can she even have the audacity to-?”

“Merry Christmas!” I get wrapped into a hug, and it doesn’t take a genius to recognize the cheery voice behind me.

“Merry Christmas, Garcia! What’s with the snippy Scrooge?” I point after where Regina just vanished.

Garcia rolls her eyes. “Regina Watson. She’s only been here for a week and she already thinks she owns the place just because her dad’s on the board.”

I nod in understanding. “I see. And may I say what an… interesting outfit this is!”

It’s definitely a bold fashion statement. Garcia’s poofy green dress basically makes her look like a human Christmas tree, decorated with bows, bells, and ribbons, while also complete with sparkly red heels and a giant headpiece.

The blonde gives a giddy smile. “Thanks! I’m a bit sad to see yours is a bit dull, but I’m still glad you came!” She tugs me in for another hug and points to the back office. “The best food is in the back, and I suggest you go grab some before Reid eats it all by himself.”

I take her advice and make a beeline for the back office, locating Spencer sitting at the round table. When he sees me, the nerd’s head perks up and he gets a wild look in his eye.

“Angelica! You made it! Wait right there, and close your eyes.” He strides over to one of the filing cabinets.

“Um, ok.” I do as he says, trying my best to hear what’s going on.

“Ok- open them!” Reid says excitedly.

I do, and find Spencer holding a red sweater trimmed with tinsel and candy canes.

“Oh my! What… Reid, what’s this for?” I stifle a laugh.

He gives a lopsided smile. “I knew you wouldn’t have a sweater to wear, so I made you one. And after tonight, you can eat the candy canes and use the tinsel for decoration, and then use the sweater on its own.”

I graciously take the thoughtful clothing article and feel its soft fabric. “Spencer… Thank you! This is so considerate! I love it.”

“I’m glad, ‘cause you deserve to be just as cheery as the rest of us.” Reid helps me slip on the beautiful sweater over my dress. “Are you enjoying the party?”

I fight the urge to groan. “Um, yes? I donno. I don’t know most of anyone here, and I’m not one for socializing as you already know.”

Spencer nods in agreement and we both sit down at the round table to sip some punch.

“This reminds me of Emile Durkheim's sociological theory of functionalism. He viewed society as an organism, with different parts functioning to ensure the smooth and orderly operation and evolution of society.”

I let out a chuckle. “Leave it to you to help me get through this party by lecturing. Mind if I add in?”

The boy genius is surprised, but still excited. “By all means, go ahead!”

“Do you ever notice that smiling and laughter is seen as occasional? It’s as if we need an excuse to smile instead of doing it simply because we feel happy at the time.”

“You know, the reason that most vintage photos don’t have people smiling is because it was seen as a sign of insanity?” Reid informs. “Maybe that’s why. But I agree, smiling is done less and less nowadays probably because our emotions are used to being expressed online.”

“I suppose so. I’m just going to ignore the social norm altogether and smile.” In saying so, I turn to give Reid a thankful grin. “You always make me smile, Spencer.”

He blushes, but doesn’t get too flustered. However he doesn’t get to respond because Morgan now decides to barge in.

“There you are, Reid! Come here- you gotta try this fruitcake!” He drags Reid behind him, while Spencer gives me a quick look of apology that I return with a teasing “go ahead” hand gesture.

Now that I’m alone again, I decide to recollect my thoughts about the past week. I usually stay here during cases, but this time I had to follow the team to Florida for a special case. It was strange to see palm trees dressed up for Christmas. We were able to catch the unsub thanks to Reid’s last-minute conclusion, though it still nearly made my heart stop when he almost took a bullet to the leg. Thankfully no one was hurt, and now I’ve got to enjoy the moment of peace I have right now.

“Well well, hello again,” comes a snobbish voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. I see that Regina has returned, and brought her uppity mindset along with her.

“Hello, Regina. If you’re looking for finger foods, I suggest you try the Polish roses.”

She gags. “God, no! They give terribly bad breath! Anyways…” She slinks closer with a devilish grin. “Whatcha doing back here?”

Why do you care? Please leave me alone.

I shrug. “I was chatting with someone earlier, but now I’m just enjoying the peace and quiet.” At least I was before you showed up. “The last case gave me a bit more stress than I expected.”

Regina snickers and shakes her head in disappointment. “Girl, you’re a wreck of nerves. You need to get laid.”

Her laid-back statement makes me choke on my punch and cough it up across the table. How dare she!

“I am not belittling myself by using such serious matters as a stress reliever! How can you even suggest such a thing?”

She shrugs. “It helps me.”

“O-K, did not need to know that. If I’m going to be engaging in any conversation tonight, I’d like to have a mature conversation now so if you’d be so kind as to remove yourself and any other outlandish ideas from the room I’d be very grateful.”

Regina huffs and pivots to walk back to the crowded room outside. How can she even have the audacity…? First I think I’m in the clear and can put the situation behind me- but then I notice Reid waiting in the doorway, having returned holding a plate of cookies for us to share.

“Um… You heard that, huh?” I bite my lip.

“Yeah.”

I groan and clutch my head in my hands. “This just makes things awkward and weird, and I don't want that! I think our dating has been going very well, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“This doesn’t mess it up,” Reid replies softly as he comes to sit next to me. “If any healthy relationship is to continue to grow, these types of conversations need to be dealt with eventually.”

“I know, I know. ‘S just… I don’t want to disappoint you,” I whisper in a small voice I hope he doesn’t hear.

Reid chuckles a little. “Angelica, how could you ever disappoint me?”

Help me God, it’s time to tell him. “Because I- I’m a virgin. I’ve never been involved with anything like that, and when I hear others talk about it like it’s an everyday thing like the weather then I get really nervous. I’ve figured out enough to know that people have their own types and some can be more kinky than others, and it’s just all too stressful trying to fit into what someone might expect. That’s why I’ve never had a relationship before.”

I can tell Reid’s surprised by my confession, but he chooses to mull over the thing I least expect.

“You’ve never had a relationship? Angelica, how is that even possible? You’re the most beautiful, smart woman I know and you’re telling me you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

His surprise is heartwarming and adorable, making me be even more thankful to have him help me through this.

“I’ve always put education first. I guess… my age started to catch up with me and I thought I’d always be alone.” I slide a hand over to take his. “You’ve been so kind, and I’m happy our dating has been going so well.”

“Me too,” Spencer says softly. “And… if you feel uncomfortable doing anything with deeper intimacy, I understand. We don’t have to.”

This surprises me. “Huh. Usually every time I decline involvement the opposite party leaves me high and dry.” I give Reid a smile. “It’s not normal.”

He laughs. “You know I’m strictly against germs and physical contact, right? Our way of dating is far from normal, angel. Our first date was almost the equivalent of a job interview.”

We both burst out laughing and my uneasy awkwardness washes away. Instead of feeling alone again this Christmas, Spencer’s made me feel welcomed and loved.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” I look up at his curious eyes. “This doesn’t seem like what I pictured dating would be, it’s more like- like a team. We’re a team just like our team here, solving problems.”

Speaking of the team, Prentiss, Morgan, and Garcia now decide to enter the room and terminate our privacy.

“Hey, guys. Leave any food for us?” Prentis asks as she takes a sip of punch.

“Forget that! I see some mistletoe magic about to happen!” Garcia declares in a singsong voice.

We both freeze and look up, spotting the ugly mass of green weeds hanging from the ceiling. Of course Garcia would put that up. Spencer and I exchange hidden panicked looks, both knowing we’ve never kissed before during our dating.

“Well, it is tradition,” I shrug and seem to give into Garcia’s edging despite my brain yelling for me to run away.

Reid gets an odd look. “Since when are you keen on being tied to social rituals?”

Ignoring this and the fact that the team is watching, I lean in closer. My heart is in my stomach, but I show a steady face and show Spencer a look silently asking for permission. But I don’t have to go further, because he cups my face and closes the gap. The kiss is soft and sweet, almost like drinking hot chocolate. I don’t know how long it goes, only that soon we both have to break apart to breathe.

“So… that’s what kissing’s like,” I comment in an airy voice.

“Wait,” Spencer pants. “You’ve never even been kissed?”

“Whoa, whoa!” Morgan interrupts and throws his hands up. “Is there something you’re not telling us, pretty boy?”

“I knew it!” Garcia giggles and claps her hands. “You two make such a cute pair!”

“Don’t forget the paperwork,” Prentiss taunts as she raises a glass to toast the celebration. 

“We can worry about that later!” Garcia tugs us both into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you guys! And you put on a sweater! This is the best Christmas party ever!”

“What’s going on?” 

JJ and Rossi enter the room, both intrigued by the noisy group.

“I was right! You owe me 20 bucks!” Garcia holds her hand out to JJ. “Pay up!”

“Is she serious?” Rossi looks between me and Reid. “You two, together? We thought it’d take at least a year.”

“What would?” Hotch steps in and we all go quiet. “Is something wrong?”

Spencer squeezes my hand and gives me a determined look, one which I share in response.

“Hotch, there’s something we have to tell you.” Reid stands up and faces our leader with a even face. “Angelica and I have started dating. And before you remind us, yes we know about the paperwork we need to fill out. We know what consequences there are and the risks we’re taking, but I don’t care as long as I can make her happy.”

If it weren’t for the eerie silence draping the atmosphere, I’d be tearing up with joy at his kind words. We all wait in silence for Hotch’s response, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“There is paperwork,” Hotch says. “But I’m not going to spoil this festive occasion with something like that.” He gives both Reid and me a proud smile. “You kids enjoy the party. Worry about paperwork next week.”

The whole team cheers and raises a glass to toast our relationship. Meanwhile, Spencer’s looking at me as if I’d just given him the moon.

“Nice ugly sweater, by the way!” Morgan comments.

I roll my eyes and start to defend Spencer’s gift, but the nerd takes my hand to quiet me.

“Just play along with it. You look gorgeous in that sweater!”

#spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid scenario #criminal minds #jj criminal minds #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi #christmas time #christmas sweater #christmas party #merry christmas #mathew gray gubler

[menelaiad]

Loved your thoughts on Penelope + Menody! How do you think Penelope could fit into Odyio or Agaody?

this is so fun. this is the kind of ask i love ASDFGHJK

UHHHHHH

it's more .... agamemnon fitting into odypen. i feel. then the other way round.

agamemnon is. hard. to get along with. i feel. you have to REALLY know him and take time to ....... get what he's like and why he's like that. so i feel like penelope, at first, .... is really pissed off by him. but her lil rat husband is like 'babe please he said i was his only friend we cant make him sleep outside'

aga can appreciate a smart, strong-willed and quick thinking woman though. he thinks penelope's pretty hot for that.

and when penelope realises that agamemnon is being genuinely appreciative of her and NOT taking the piss. she likes it. she doesnt NEED men to tell her she's amazing. but it's always nice.

basically penelope has two men who think she's just amazing around her a lot?

that being said. odysseus is mediator. aga and pen can be stubborn as HECK. and ody just gotta try and keep em both sweet. penelope is usually right. and he's gotta navigate that with agamemnon who hates being wrong. but we all know how peak ody is at standing up the agamemnon tbh.

ody sits back and watches pen and aga have a wicked sense of humour though. i think aga and pen are so quick witted. odysseus has a sharp tongue, sure. but those two are funny af gossips? maybe they're lil gossips a lil bit shhhhh

omg the whole odysseus: whats so funny? agamemnon and penelope: nothing :))))))

penelope sits back and watches agamemnon fawn over and bend to her tiny husband's every whim and it makes her giggle. aga could crush ody in his hand and yet he seeks approval for everything.

agamemnon sits back and gets to watch his friend be happy. truly honestly happy and loved and to give love. odysseus adores penelope and she makes him very happy and i dont think even aga can begrudge that.

i'll be damned if aga isnt a human furnace soft cushion of a man that the ithakan royals sleep on every night.

penelope teaches aga board games. he's a BAD loser at first. he has never beaten either of them yet. but he's getting there.

its the epitome of 'hi, my name is penelope and this is my husband odysseus.... and this is odysseus' boyfriend, agamemnon'

#long post // #i love asks like this. u can just turn off the logical academic brain #and go solely off vibes. thank you! this was fun! and the concept was oddly sweet?x

[vacantgodling]

You already know what I’m here for. Hya/Amon + It’s Called Fool’s Gold For a Reason

thank you korbbbbbbbb 💛💛💛💛

[send me a ship/character + a title and i’ll tell you what the fic will be about]

tbh all my mind can think of is the fiancé au—which, for the uninitiated is one of the quads of different ways amon and hya’s relationship can go. paramour canon is obvs hya is rich x amon is poor, and i kinda swap the roles around for the quad to see how their dynamic would be (because they’re all canonically possible tm). the fiancé au is the au where BOTH amon and hya are rich and the gist of that universe is that they meet each other at a ball and amon essentially becomes infatuated with hya at first sight and spends most of his time concocting schemes to woo him and hya being extremely over the situation. it’s much more rom com esque than my other aus for them.

N E WAY

i think this particular fic would be after (or about) the third time amon proposes to hya. it’s not a third time’s the charm scenario, but its with each subsequent proposal, he and hya have made progress in getting to know one another more. the first time amon proposes it’s very on a whim, they barely know each other and all amon has to say for himself is financial assets but mostly you’re hot and he isn’t that hurt when hya turns him down. second time, they’ve gotten closer some, but he still isn’t Really hurt when hya rejects him. the third time though comes after some substantial time has passed and they’ve spent probably several months now Really getting to know one another. they’ve danced, they’ve probably kissed at some point, the attraction to not just the body but the Person is so THERE…. but then hya rejects amon… again. and this time amon is absolutely deveststed. he starts binge drinking, he’s despondent, he can’t really understand why or what he has to do to get hya to accept him as a partner, yknow? he’s just wondering if (because of his background, and mind you neither of them know the intricacies of the other’s situation yet; hya doesn’t know amon was an orphan adopted by nobility, and amon doesn’t know that hya is an “illegitimate” child—which actually plays into why hya rejects him this third time) yknow. it wasn’t meant to be. that he thought hya was this prized catch but it was just pyrite, fools gold, this whole time.

yet on the opposite end you discover that hya likes amon. he doesn’t really word it like that but he likes amon a Lot and he finds him tolerable and funny if ridiculous and enjoys being around him. but he feels in some parts that he *is* pyrite; that amon is silly to assume that his parents would approve of him marrying a BASTARD yknow? and hya refuses to hear that he’s not good enough for amon and in his Mind he doesn’t necessarily think he isn’t (but he does it’s just buried so deep and he’s SO in denial about it) it’s just that word getting out as well that amon tried to marry a bastard would ruin hya’s reputation and potentially jeopardize his financial situation. so it hurts but he has to say no and keep saying no to amon because he doesn’t want to lie to him. which is something tagetes suggested that they just lie and forge papers (which is coincidentally, how hya marries the keeper in actual canon paramour) but hya cares about amon too much to do that to him.

the fic would end with both of them in their own varying states of depression, not really sure how to cope or move on from there 💛

OOF this ended up being sad i really wanna write this now LMAO 😭 thanks again for the ask!!

#the fiancee au makes me a bit loco ngl #i’m thinking about this SO MUCH rn #s: paramour #fiance au #<- idk if that has a tag PFF #ask games 2024 #fiancee au

[soniccrazygal]

The AU where William and Elizabeth's parent/child dynamic is that of Killer Moth and Kitten is pretty funny, and if I do ever make anything for it, I'll be sure to credit you!

That gets me thinking, though, in terms of Kitten's boyfriend, Fang...

1) In the Demon Slayer AU, will Elizabeth be expected to find herself a "prince" once she turns of age to make more offspring? Is it someone William picks out himself, or is she to find a male on her own?

2) For the rebuilt AU, you've mentioned that William is old fashioned. Does William plan to have his children "grow up"? Since Elizabeth is to be expected to act like a lady, mostly taking after her mother, is she meant to be trained to be a housewife? If Elizabeth were to end up developing a crush, how would William take it? Would there be some kind of loyalty test for her crush? Straight up off him and make look like a tragic accident? Kidnap and enslave him, so if Elizabeth were to step out of line, instead of punishing Michael, he punishes her crush? Or would he think of her crush as just another "playmate" for her?

Sorry this is so long, I'm just genuinely curious about where William stands for possible future suitors for his daughter.😅

If you or anyone else does anything with that idea be sure to let me know! I’d love to see what people do with the idea since I don’t have time to do anything with it.

1) Elizabeth has a while to grow up before William would consider her ready to get a mate of some sort, as in a century or two. William would definitely be the one to pick them out for her as he mostly views his children as experiments and would be picking a suitor for Elizabeth based on certain genetic factors to see how the offspring would turn out.

Any mate of Elizabeth’s would be treated as lower class than her though and expected to bend to her every whim. Elizabeth would most likely go through several mates as her own cruelty would lead her to killing them off or because William considers the results of their pairing a failure and would get her a new mate for her in the hopes of better success.

2) It’b be a long long time before William would allow any of his children to “grow up” because he’s spent so long trying to get them all back together and reenact the “happier days” that he wouldn’t be willing to let them go. If the day ever came that he would let them grow up and get married, all their potential spouses would require William’s approval. Any that don’t meet his approval requires his children to immediately cut all ties with them and if the rejected suitor continued to pursue Elizabeth or the others, William would find ways to ruin their lives financially and socially. If William even suspects that one of his children is sneaking behind his back to visit a crush he doesn’t approve of, he’ll make them disappear.

#soniccrazygal answers #afton slayer au #rebuilt au #willam afton #elizabeth afton

[masterwords]

standing still

Summary: Hotch & Reid travel to Connecticut for a custodial interview with Chester Hardwick before he's put to death. Their trip does not go smoothly. (ASD!Hotch & ASD!Reid, plus some Hotchgan.) (Coda to 3x14 - Damaged)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan (but Derek is barely in the story)

Warnings: vomit, meltdown, food, depression, anxiety, divorce, canon-typical mention of crime/murder

Words: 6k

Notes: Ah, well, an idea on a whim yesterday produced 6k words overnight. Where did it come from? I don't know. But it's here. And it puts me over 50k words posted for the month of January which is pretty fucking cool.

**

The hotel is haunted.

Supposedly.

Hotch has heard the stories enough times, he's stayed there plenty over the years. Back when custodial interviews were more common and the jet wasn't an option, and he was the new guy on the block drawing the short straw. Never experienced a ghost that he's aware of, but if he has, they're very hospitable. He likes this hotel. The beds are comfortable, the continental breakfast is simple and predictable, the water pressure in the showers is strong. Not blast your skin clean off of your body strong but pounding those knots out of your muscles strong.

So, if it's haunted, he really doesn't care. But Reid has been doing some digging and he's excited to talk to locals about it. He doesn't believe in ghosts, per se, but he loves to collect stories. So, the hotel is haunted, and people say the prison is too. One of the cell blocks, anyway. He wants to ask the Warden about it in the morning. Connecticut is rife with stories of hauntings that go all the way back to the Headless Horseman.

“Have you heard about the prison? They say it's haunted by a former inmate who was killed by a group of guards. I guess the guards got to a point where they wouldn't go on that cell block, so they turned it into a storage facility. Funny, too, that a prison that still conducts executions is so focused on one death. You would think the whole place would be crawling with the souls of the dead prisoners.”

“I've heard,” Hotch replies quietly, staring at the road. He's lost in his mind. “But I haven't paid it much attention.”

“Well, I don't believe in ghosts but it's fascinating the way these stories take hold. The grip that they have on people, even rational people who say they don't believe, is powerful. People say they've seen file cabinets levitating and they hear moaning and screaming from that end of the prison at the full moon."

“A few minutes of fame can make someone say just about anything. We've seen it plenty of times during cases.”

He's not able to focus on the conversation for long. It comes in bits and pieces, scattered moments between the phone buzzing angrily at his thigh. It's Haley calling. Every fifteen minutes she calls, lets it ring and ring, then leaves a voicemail. That's 20 angry voicemails, give or take, by the time they get there if she keeps up at her current pace. 20 tirades that he has to listen to even though his gut tells him not to. Just delete them, he knows exactly what she wants.

She wants him to sign the papers. He's got them in his go bag. The plan is to read them again, really read them this time, but he doesn't want to and he's definitely putting it off. Derek already read them once. He went through them with a fine-tooth comb, because he's not emotionally involved...not like that anyway. He gave them his seal of approval. “It's all legit, man. She just wants to dissolve the marriage, let you guys manage the rest on your own. It's a good deal. You already gave her everything anyway...”

He's going to be sick if he doesn't eat something. It's a sudden realization, he's been ignoring that pang in his stomach so long that it's practically an emergency now. Up ahead is a roadside diner with a sign that's half lit up in bright yellow bulbs (the other half are in dire need of replacement but by the looks of it they have no real plans to do so). Hotch knows it's a gamble with Reid but it's one he's willing to take. The alternative is worse. Much worse.

“Let's get an early dinner here.” It's barely past lunch time, but he doesn't plan to eat again so that's just how it comes out. Aware that he sounds elderly, an old man after his early bird special, he smiles and tries to play it off casually but his stomach hurts so bad it's hard to hide. “They don't look busy, it'll be fast.”

“Diners aren't known for their cleanliness.”

“It's the only place around for miles. I'm sure we'll be okay.”

Inside, it's exactly what Hotch expects. Emerald green vinyl booths with silver plated tables, the look of every ice cream soda shop from the 1950s. Well, the idyllic version of that decade that mainstream media wants you to feel nostalgic for, anyway. There are framed movie posters on the wall with Ronald Reagan's face on some, Betty Boop on others. Reid looks around and frowns. He's not confident in this place but he walks inside anyway, stepping carefully around the bubble gum and sticker machines in the small entry. One quarter for a hard gumball that tastes like fruity plastic and threatens to chip your tooth until you can manage your way through the exterior. A dentist's worst nightmare. And they're not individually wrapped, just sitting there in the clear glass calling out to children who don't know any better. He shudders at the thought.

At the hostess station, he peers at the framed health department notices hung cockeyed on the wall in cheap frames, studying the dates of their last checks and whether they passed inspection. He eyeballs the kitchen, the greasy flat top, the cooks sweating and swearing and laughing over them. They both look relatively clean, but one has a beard and he's not wearing anything to cover it. It's not exactly a nightmare scenario, it's actually better than he'd anticipated, but he still would rather not eat here. He's got plenty of pre-packaged safe foods in his go bag.

The restaurant isn't busy, though it looks like they've just missed a rush by all of the full dish bins. They're between meal hours. That's a blessing, it affords them time and quiet, both things that Reid can tell Hotch needs. He's usually pretty reserved but today he's a whole new level of difficult.

Hotch slides into his side of the booth immediately, like he needs to sit down before he collapses. The cracked vinyl groans under his weight and he tries to find a spot that's comfortable. Reid reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet of Lysol wipes, first getting his side of the table and then his side of the booth. Hotch pays no attention; he's already looking at the menu. Reid always wipes everything down first and it normally doesn't bother Hotch, he finds it endearing if not a little pointless considering the surroundings, but today everything that everyone is doing makes him feel itchy and like he's going to vibrate right out of his skin.

His stomach is bothering him. It's the stress. He can't stop thinking about the voicemails, wondering if he should go outside and listen to them. He could grab some Tums from his go bag while he's out there, kill two birds with one stone but he doesn't want to get back up. He's exhausted by the mere thought of it. Besides, the stomachache will turn into a headache in no time anyway and the Tums will be just as pointless as Reid's Lysol wipes.

“What are you going to order?” Reid asks absentmindedly, looking over the freshly cleaned menu. He's thinking about the cook and his beard, trying to figure out what he can order that's going to require the least amount of human interaction with his food. A piece of pie might be it; he saw them in the case already sliced and covered in plastic. He likes individual pre-packaged servings. It's doubtful they were baked here, he figures they're factory made and packaged by machines, the human part of it being minimal. He could probably get away with not thinking about who sliced it.

But then a slice of pie isn't dinner, and he is hungry.

“I don't know,” Hotch replies quietly, not at all hungry. But he's the one who decided to pull over so he's going to have to order something. He'd just wanted to stop driving, to catch his breath for a minute. Now he's got to come up with some food item that won't upset his stomach further, something that won't kill him when it comes back up later. He's already anticipating a rough night. “Maybe soup and some toast.”

“Did you know that in many restaurants, the soup of the day is made using whatever leftover ingredients are on the verge of needing to be thrown out as a way to curb waste? I saw that the soup of the day here was the tomato basil with garlic toast points, so...”

Hotch frowns behind his menu without looking up. “I suppose I'm doing my part to stop unnecessary waste, then. Tomato soup sounds nice.”

It isn't the response Spencer was hoping for, but he shrugs and turns back to his own menu. Pie. He's going to have pie and he'll snack on the food he brought later. He hails a waitress, not theirs, and asks which pies are made in house. She answers with pride that they make most of them in house, their baker comes in at 3am every day and even makes the crust herself. There are only two they have shipped because the ingredients are hard to keep on hand. When their waitress comes by, he orders one of the two kinds they don't make here. “Pecan, please.”

Hotch orders the tomato soup without a second thought. It comes in a large white bowl set on a little plate with saltine crackers, and the deep velvety velvety crimson of the tomato is a stark contrast to the bowl's brightness. In the center is a dash what looks like basil or parsley and a swirl of heavy cream on top.

“I read that they blend up old vegetables from the salads for tomato soup,” Reid mutters, wiping his fork on his pant leg. There are dishwasher spots on it. “It helps bulk it up, especially when the cost of tomatoes is so high. That soup is probably mostly lettuce and carrots.”

“Reid,” Hotch says quietly, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. There it is, the headache. “Less commentary about the food I'm about to eat would be appreciated.”

Reid smiles awkwardly, twirling his fork in his hands. “Sorry. Force of habit. I find the restaurant business simultaneously fascinating and horrifying.”

Hotch doesn't acknowledge Reid's statement; he just picks up his spoon and swirls it in the soup. Clockwise. He turns it in one big circle around the edge, dragging the spoon along the bowl, and then swoops inward to fold the cream into the red. The soup turns a vibrant peachy-orange and he smiles, the color looks serene and peaceful. He thinks about lettuce when he takes his first bite, but thankfully isn't able to taste it. After three bites he doesn't think about lettuce anymore. He thinks about being a child, about weekend lunches of canned condensed tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Every Saturday. Predictable. Comforting.

“Hotch,” Reid interrupts, and when he looks up, he's looking at crime scenes. Spread out in front of them, all over the table, his plate of pie lost somewhere in the middle of the gore...he didn't even realize Reid brought the files inside. It isn't that much of a stretch; the team often does this. They talk loudly about horrific things around the general public because what choice do they have? None of them even flinch at the sight of these things anymore. But not here. Not now. There are children eating with their parents two booths away. Hotch frowns. “Is this everything? I thought there were more. Chester Hardwick killed -”

“Please put those away.” Hotch doesn't care what Reid is about to say, he just interrupts him. His skin goes electric.

“We need to...”

“Not here.” He's about to lose it, he really is. Reid gives him a strange look, almost defiant and definitely confused, but he starts sliding the photos back into their folders just before their waitress brings Hotch his plate of whole wheat toast. He didn't want the garlic toast; his special order took an extra minute and now she was paying dearly for it. Involuntarily, she makes a displeased sound, a surprised little gasp, and he glances up at her with apology written all over in his honey eyes.

“I'm sorry,” Hotch says. “Sometimes we forget where we are when we're working.”

“What um...what is it you fellas do exactly?” she asks, refilling Hotch's coffee with trembling hands. He's on his third cup, his hands are trembling a little too. The coffee isn't making his stomach feel any better but it'll help him finish the drive.

“We're with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” Reid chimes in, closing the last of the folders. “We um, we catch serial killers. Today we're on our way to interview one before his scheduled execution.”

She stares, wide-eyed, and Hotch sighs. Under normal circumstances he would just let Reid do what he does. He's not doing anything wrong, and he knows without a doubt that all of the problems he's having are his entirely. He's overstimulated and extra prickly today. “Thank you for the coffee.” He doesn't mean it to sound as dismissive as it does and he's acutely aware as she turns and leaves the table that he's been rude. “Reid, she didn't need all of that information. A simple answer would have sufficed.”

“Sorry,” Reid chirps, digging at his pie. He picks the pecans off of the top first. “Force of habit.”

“So you've said.”

This is their first trip together, one on one. Sure, they've been all over the country as a group, but it's never just been the two of them and Hotch is certain now that he's not in the right frame of mind to handle it. He likes Reid, he enjoys him and his info-dumps. He always learns something new when he's with Reid. Besides, it's startlingly nice to be around another person who doesn't think the same as everyone else, who filters the world through a different operating system. Those were Garcia's words when she, very bluntly, asked if he was autistic. Reid always assumed it, but Garcia had no qualms about simply asking.

She had asked after running into him in the break room and watching him go through his very regimented steps to make his cup of coffee. Not that he did anything out of the ordinary, she explained, just that he didn't get his coffee from coffee stands like everyone else. He always insisted on making his own and he always did the same thing. Dump the filter, clean the pot, make one single cup using his own bag of grounds and a bottle of water brought from home because he didn't like what the filtration system in the building did to the flavor of his coffee. He kept his grounds in a small paper bag in the back of the freezer with his name on them, and his water bottle was labeled as well. All the years she'd known him, it was the same thing, and they disappeared at a very regimented pace. She claimed it was obvious. He knew there was more to it than that, she was just being nice and overly simplistic. He tried not to overthink it, dwell on it...he almost succeeded, too. But he did dwell a little, wondering how many other things he did that were just odd enough to tip her off.

Ultimately it didn't make any difference.

“I don't like my coffee to be a surprise,” he'd said quietly, a little defensive. “Sometimes with coffee shops, you'll get a different thing every day even with the same order. They'll try to surprise you with more of something or less of something, or they'll change the beans they use, or the strength of the brew. I prefer not to guess whether my coffee is what I want.”

“It's okay, sir, I understand completely. I go to the same bakery every time because they've been around for fifty years with the same recipes.”

“Trudeau's?” Hotch asked, smiling. She nodded.

“The one and only. You always know what you're going to get, and it's always going to be good.”

The problem Hotch runs into frequently is that his operating system, so to speak, isn't like Reid's. Or Garcia's. He's the odd man out even here where he thinks he should be able to relate. He knows it's a spectrum, of course he knows that, but it doesn't stop him feeling isolated. The discouragement that comes from knowing how separate he is makes it hard for him to find a way to communicate it.

So, he doesn't. He keeps his mouth shut and his head down and he just forges on.

That Derek learned his tells early on was a mixed blessing. He'd groaned about being profiled, unwritten team rules, but secretly he thought it was nice to be seen.

If Haley wasn't so angry with him, maybe he'd be better able to manage his own expectations and reactions in this situation which was really going quite well, all things considered. He was so skilled at masking and managing that these days when he was raw and vulnerable and completely unable to keep his shields up were few and far between...but since the divorce papers were served, he couldn't name a single day he felt totally in control. Derek helps when he can, where he can. Derek has been a life raft in a raging sea, but he can't fix everything. He's got problems and a life of his own. He's got mountains to climb and traumas to heal. Hotch is acutely aware that he takes more than he gives frequently and needs to do better. Derek would vehemently disagree with that. But it doesn't matter, he's sitting at the table mortified by how rude he'd been to the waitress and to Reid, wishing Derek were here to help him back to the path.

But Derek couldn't come, not this time. Someone had to stay behind and run the BAU while Hotch was away without cell reception in a prison. It puts them all in a vulnerable position and anymore, he preferred to be the one to do it. Which left his second in command to man the ship. Hotch couldn't think of anyone better to run the team, and the fact that Derek had chosen to love him on top of all of his needs, in spite of all of that, he still isn't sure how it happened. He sometimes forgets he's lovable at all.

Today he's completely out of control. It's just fitting, in some way, that his version of out of control still looks very subtle if you don't look too closely. No one can tell he's breaking. He just looks grouchy. He's sure he'll make it to the hotel before the cracks in his armor start becoming visible.

“We should get back on the road. I looked up the traffic reports and if we're not in city limits by 4pm, we're going to be stuck on the highway for an average of thirty to sixty minutes longer than necessary.”

“You've hardly eaten your pie,” Hotch says, poking at his own barely eaten toast. He plans to finish the meal if it kills him, traffic be damned. “I'm not concerned about the time, we don't have anywhere to be until tomorrow.”

They get to the hotel in a reasonable time, not exactly as good as they'd hoped but not as bad as Reid feared. It's possible Hotch might have been going a little over the posted limits in places, but Reid wasn't going to tell anyone. It's still better than Emily's driving. He suddenly understands why Derek always holds the door handle when he's in the passenger seat, though.

“One room?” Hotch asks the clerk, exasperated at the sight of the one key card. He should have known. “They only booked us one room? Would it be possible to get another?”

“I'm sorry sir, there's a convention and a concert here tonight, we're booked solid. I might be able to find you two rooms somewhere else if you'd like me to call around. You'll have better luck just outside the city.”

Hotch knew this hotel. Sure, a second room would be nice but a hotel he wasn't familiar with sounded just a bit too much for him right now. He and Reid have shared a room before. It isn't ideal, not by a longshot, but it works. “No, thank you. One room is fine. There are two beds, though?”

“Yes, sir. It's a double queen. Non-smoking. No pets.”

“We don't smoke or have pets.”

The room is small. That's the first thing that Hotch notices. He's always had a single room here and he thinks it's the same size but with an extra bed. And speaking of beds...the second thing he notices is that the beds are not, in fact, queen sized. They are full, a whole size smaller. He sets his bag neatly on top of the bed closest to the door while Reid goes for the one further in... that's always how they do it. Hotch stays closer to the point of entry, no matter who he rooms with. And then he puts the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. He doesn't care for people coming into his room, to clean or not.

“You can take the first shower,” he offers, pulling out his suit for the next morning and hanging it up. There are voices next door, muffled but clearly a man and some children. Paper thin walls, he can hear everything the man is saying to the children. Telling them to be quiet, to quit stomping, to turn the television down. Reid nods and heads right for the bathroom with his Ziplock bag of cleaning supplies. He always brings his own in order to sanitize the tub and shower head before he uses them, and Hotch, knowing this, always offers the first shower. The first time Reid did it after he showered, he felt filthy. Like Reid was cleaning him off of the tub. Never again.

He doesn't care about who gets the first shower, otherwise. He kicks his shoes off and sits on his bed, leaning back against the bleach scented pillows in their over-starched cases and closes his eyes. His head is throbbing.

Reid leaves the bathroom smelling like Lysol and bleach and Hotch watches as he strips his bed of the comforter. “Did you know they don't wash these?” he asks, dumping it into the corner like it disgusts him. “They wash the blankets and sheets with all sorts of harsh chemicals, they go scorched earth, but rarely the comforter. Not unless it's visibly soiled.”

“I had no idea,” Hotch lies. He does know, he just...once again...does not care. He can't care about everything and he's got more than enough on his plate right now. “I'll take yours, if you don't plan to use it. I get cold.” That's the damn truth. Reid sleeps with the air conditioner on no matter what the season. Hotch can't take it.

“It's all yours.” Reid barely hides the disgust in his features as he tosses the green and gold comforter toward his boss. Hotch doesn't notice the look; he just wads it up beside him and is satisfied knowing he's got a little extra protection against the cold air assault later.

He decides to take a walk down to the vending machine for some pretzels, and that's when he pulls out his phone and listens to the messages. One after another, terse and angry, Haley tells him to sign the papers, to call him, asks him why he won't just do it. Two of the messages are from Jessica calmly telling him to get his head out of his ass and call one of them back. “If you won't talk to her, fine. Talk to me. Just call one of us. Either that or I'm going to assume you've been injured in the line of duty and start calling your bosses...”

Jessica gets the call. He would have tried Haley but he just...he can't. It'll turn into a fight.

"It's about damn time," she says through clenched teeth and he closes his eyes.

“I'm on the road,” he says quietly. “I've been driving all day with Doctor Reid. The constant phone calls and threats are a little much, don't you think?”

“We were worried.”

“No, you were worried. She's only concerned about my signature.”

“Fair enough. Just get it over with. Sign the damn papers.”

“I haven't had any time to read them.”

“You of all people should know exactly what's in there, and besides, I know you already asked Derek to read them. You don't trust him? What's really stopping you?”

He sighs and pushes the button that reads B9 for the pretzels. They get stuck on the way down, jammed between the spiral and the window, and he thinks that's it. He's going to cry. That's all it takes, one single second of that crinkly blue bag of Rold Gold tiny twist pretzels getting stuck right there and the tears are burning tracks down his cheeks. “I need time.”

He's pacing back and forth in front of the vending machine now, wearing a track in the dingy red carpet. His mind loops. The papers. The drive. The soup. The photos. The pretzels. Repeat repeat. He worries the pads of his fingers over his nails until they nearly bleed and his breathing speeds up. Jessica can hear it, she knows exactly what this looks like, but she isn't gentle. He passed on gentle hours ago when he ignored her calls, she figures.

“Suck it up. Read the papers tonight, sign them tomorrow. Be done with it, Aaron. Move on. She already has.”

“I'll read the papers tonight.” He repeats the one part of what she said that he can manage. It makes her pause, re-calibrate her course before she sends him into a tailspin. She's dangerously close and she does feel bad. She understands, Haley has been at her throat all day today too.

“Just sign the papers and I promise it'll make everything better. Do it for Jack, so you two can get back on good terms. Jack needs you both to remember how much you mean to one another. And I know Derek would like it if you'd let it go...please. Sign the papers.”

He can't breathe. He's standing with his back against the wall and overcome with the feeling that his legs are about to give out, the world is about to go dark, he's about to lose whatever shred of control he still held. His body is giving him what little warning it can, and it isn't much. He's better at listening now than he used to be. “I'll call you tomorrow when I'm back in town.”

“Sign the papers Aaron!”

She hollers it into the phone, one last demand. He barely hears it before he hangs up and stumbles back to the room without his pretzels, someone else can have them. He makes his way immediately for the shower, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Reid barely notices, he's got Chester Hardwick's photos spread out all over his bed and he's deep in thought. “The hot water takes a minute,” he says absently, as if Hotch is right there.

It doesn't matter, anyway. He's not going for the shower yet. He almost doesn't make it to the toilet before he vomits. Reid can definitely hear that, and it startles him, but he assumes it's food poisoning and he isn't at all surprised. That damn soup. Lettuce is notorious for salmonella. Hotch is happy to let him think it's food poisoning too, it's a harmless lie. Better than the alternative.

His shower is anything but relaxing. He presses his forehead into the tile so hard it hurts while his stomach cramps and he's worried he's going to throw up again but the pressure he keeps on his forehead stills the nausea. For now. He's not exactly crying, it's sort of just miserable gasping for air while the shower washes away his tears. He can barely breathe. His hands are balled so tight his fingernails cut crescents in his palms and he can feel the small spots of blood pooling there. Sign the papers, Aaron. Sign the papers, Aaron. Uncontested, that's what she wants. He doesn't have a problem with that part of it. He'd willingly give her everything, keep nothing for himself. That isn't it, that isn't it at all. He doesn't want to sign it because signing it is permanent. Right now there is still hope. He still wears the ring. She hasn't worn hers in a long time, sometimes it's around her neck and other times it's nowhere in sight...but his is still firmly in place on his finger. Hope. Some shred, however minuscule, still exists and the minute his signature is on that page it's gone.

And he's alone.

What's he supposed to do with the bare skin where the ring once sat?

He cries harder. The walls are paper thin and if someone on the other side is in the bathroom, they can definitely hear his miserable moaning. Sobbing. He collapses slowly, crumples, his joints folding and his limbs contorting until he's sitting in the tub in a ball sobbing into his kneecaps. He hasn't had a meltdown like this in years, not since Adrian Bale and that bomb put him in charge of the BAU and left him just about as vulnerable as he'd ever been. But he'd had Derek then, and he pulled through. The one constant good was Derek.

“Hotch? Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he grunts with his wet lips in tear pools against his knees. He can't make himself sound fine, but he knows Reid isn't going to push further. He never does. They may not experience things in the same way, but Reid can recognize a meltdown when he sees it and he knows better than to try and intervene. The last thing Hotch needs is extra attention.

He goes about his business instead, glad to be sure now that Hotch's soup wasn't killing him. He prepares, rehearses, but still listens. A meltdown isn't going to hurt Hotch but falling in the shower might and he's more than a little concerned about that. Statistics are overwhelming when it comes to shower related injuries.

When Hotch walks out of the bathroom in sweatpants and a t-shirt with red-rimmed eyes glassy and dazed, Reid doesn't say a thing. Not at first. He notices, it would be impossible not to, but he can't find anything to say about it, so he asks the question that's on his mind.

“What time do we need to be at the prison? I'd like to set the alarm now.”

“7am. We'll be done and on the road by 9am.” That's it. Hotch spreads the second comforter over his bed and he burrows beneath the blankets. That's all he's got in him. Reid stays up pouring over files he's already memorized, full of nervous excitement. Custodials always put him into a frenzied mindset. He hasn't done too many of them and this is definitely the most excited he's been. Chester Hardwick doesn't talk to anyone, refused their requests repeatedly.

The meeting with Hardwick is something neither of them wants to discuss once they're out of the prison. Once they're back in the fresh air under the bright blue sky, not locked up in a cement room with a madman who thinks killing a couple of FEDs will earn him a stay of execution. Maybe it would have, but Reid managed to talk their way out of it. The very thing that Hotch loves about Reid, and the thing that has been getting under his skin for the last day, saved their lives. He's grateful. It isn't lost on him. But it didn't stop him from shedding his jacket and tie, squaring up, almost hoping that Hardwick would try. He could take a beating for thirteen minutes, and he could give it right back. No way Hardwick would have managed to kill both of them, but he still feels guilty. His foul mood, that electric feeling, it didn't go anywhere while he slept. It only got worse.

Chester Hardwick's threats were enough to settle him, to bring him back to the reality where he's in charge, where he's in control.

But he knows he probably owes Reid his life. He starts with an apology that burns his tight lungs, and then explains that Haley wants him to sign the divorce papers uncontested. No lawyers. It's faster that way, he says. And her constant hounding has been getting to him more than it should.

Reid's answer is simplistic and sweet. He doesn't understand the complication, the intricate balance and Hotch smiles sadly. He just asks what Hotch wants and isn't that funny...because it doesn't matter. This whole thing is moving along full steam ahead whether he wants it or not. “What I want, I can't have.”

Reid seems to understand that much. He knows Hotch doesn't want to lose his family; he also knows that his family is already gone. He has no idea what to say, how to respond, but the silence screams so loud it almost hurts. He has to fill it with something. Part of him wants to bring up a conversation he had with the Warden about the haunted cell block, but he refrains. Hangs out in more neutral territory.

“Derek and the team will be back from Indianapolis by the time we get home. He'll know what to do.”

Hotch smiles and nods. “You're probably right.”

“It's a good thing we have him around, huh?”

“Yes,” Hotch whispers, feeling his heart beating wildly against his chest in a different way. Untamed but not painful. “It is.”

"Do you want to stop for lunch? I did some research and there's a diner about fifty miles ahead that gets good reviews." It's clean, that's what he means. None of the reviews talk about food poisoning or flies in the windowsills.

Hotch smiles wearily and nods. "Lunch sounds nice."

When they return to Quantico, Derek is already at his desk finishing up a detailed report of the case for Hotch. All the papers Hotch would normally do, he's already deep in the thick of before it's even asked of him. He hates it so much. But after talking to Reid for a few minutes earlier, he knows it's better to anticipate this one and get ahead of it. They'll have to defend their choice to take the jet and follow Rossi into his cold case that wasn't even on the BAU's radar.

"How was your day?" Derek asks, flipping the page. Reid shrugs and sets his bag down.

"Ultimately uneventful." If only Derek knew. Maybe he'd tell him later, but not now.

Hotch passes through the bullpen without looking at anyone. He just heads directly to his office and shuts the door.

He's got papers to sign.

Derek has his doubts about how uneventful things were, at least given Hotch's icy demeanor. Usually he would at least have greeted them, asked how the case went, asked how the reports were coming so he had a clue about what happened. He did none of those things.

Later, when everyone has settled into the late afternoon workload, Derek enters Hotch's office without knocking. He doesn't do that anymore. Hasn't in a long time. In one hand he's got a mug of tea, steaming and hot, and the other he uses to shut the door behind him.

“Hotch,” he says, approaching the desk cautiously. The divorce papers are right there, signed and ready to be handed over. There are damp places where the tears soaked in, and his bright gold ring sits right at the top. Derek already knows the answer to the question he's about to ask, but it dances over his lips nonetheless. “You good?”

Hotch looks up at him from beneath thick, wet lashes and shakes his head. “No.”

#aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #hotchgan #hotch x morgan #criminal minds #fanfiction #autistic hotch #autistic reid #autistic aaron hotchner

[raitrolling]

ok now i have Brain Power (AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A-) again i can go back to my thoughts on how my ocs would play Cosy Games cuz i always think its funny how people always assign characters who are Nice People as being solely animal crossing or minecraft or stardew players and its always like 'they have really pretty towns and are nice to all the NPCS uwu'

katrin is one of those people who maybe plays for hours one day but then never picks up the game again. shit like animal crossing is too daunting for her because you put down that game for a week and your town is full of weeds and the animals ask where youve been and it is just Too Scary to return to and face your failures

nancor likes to aimlessly wander around in his games and is prone to getting lost. you check your minecraft server logs and you just see him getting mauled by various mobs. hes having fun tho, dont worry about it

ashe is a Sidequest Guy, always doing all the little jobs for npcs because he likes to be helpful :) he agonises for ages over what gifts to give his animal crossing villagers when he sends them mail because he wants to make sure they like it, he needs a Good Grade In Friendships ok. he would also get up to a point in a stardew or harvest moon game where an npc asks to marry him and then he immediately checks with cheran if its okay for him to say yes or if he should turn them down LMFAO

velour is looking up tutorials for how to design the prettiest minecraft houses ever, and trying to make sure his stardew farms are the most Aesthetic ever. catch him awake at like 5am having spent all night redesigning his entire animal crossing island because he's going to livestream a tour for his YouTube channel and it needs to be Perfect

mikiel could care less about video games, and is doing the bare minimum in any game he'd touch. most likely the guy who does all the combat quests in Minecraft like fighting the ender dragon or the wither so other people he's playing with can get all the items

lucy is a Task Guy, and is dutifully doing every single daily chore in the game as well as trying to finish any quests as quickly as possible to not keep any NPCs waiting. loves fishing minigames, and completed his fishing + bug catching sections in the animal crossing museum within like a week after he learned how to time travel

viltau is a Spreadsheet Guy aiming for 100% completion and get the absolute most out of any game he'd touch, but he is also an Aesthetics Guy prone to completely renovating his animal crossing worlds / farming sim farms on a whim because he's gotten bored of how they look. he is just like velour being awake at ungodly hours trying to redo his island, but rather than doing it for fan approval hes just generally Deranged

glas just likes to fuck around and doesn't care about having any long-term goals in their games, and generally just designs shit to weird out any of their friends who visit their animal crossing island or minecraft server. why is there a corner of their island full of dolls? why do they have big meme murals in the nether? why is their cow named 'daddy milkies'? don't worry about it

vallis gets obsessed with any sort of animal raising or breeding mechanic and tends to forget about everything else. yeah his island is full of weeds and he still hasn't paid off any debts, but check out his rows upon rows of perfect hybrid flowers he's been crossbreeding

#ooc #katrin rissah #nancor pharom #ashell bathre #velour #mikiel giacho #lusien avalon #viltau espino #glasya elliss #vallis reyleh

[ohtobealady]

Would you do 18.Family headcanon for our favourite couple?

Oh yes. Yes yes yes. Cobert &

The Family Crawley

Robert is through and through a people-person, HIS people. He is/was

a Mama’s Boy (TM)

desperate for his father’s approval, especially since they were quite different in personality. His father was rather quiet and stoic, he loved to travel and get away from Downton - Robert is very much not quiet and emotional, and he should never like to leave Downton.

loyal to his sister, even if they didn’t really get along THAT well all the time. Before ANE, I felt sure Rosamund was the elder sibling, but now that we know she’s not, I still think she’s only a year or two younger than Robert, making her around three-ish years older than Cora.

amazed by his slightly elder cousin, James. Amazed in the truest sense of the word: sometimes shocked at his crassness, sometimes in awe of his spirited whims. He loved him, really. It did sometimes feel as though his father and James were closer than Robert and him, but it didn’t bother Robert. His uncle was even more stoic than his father and used to intimidate him when he was little.

adoring of his little daughters, though uncomfortable around them. Now he doesn’t know how he’d exist without them. First of all, girls in general were (and are) a mystery to him; now add the fact that he felt he never held anything more pure and precious in his whole life when each was born. Until they became actual women, he thought they were thoroughly pure and precious. They were girls, after all. Girls are angels without any sharp edges or bad thoughts, right? The finer, fairer, and gentler sex. He knew a little of their personalities (Mary = determined; Edith = sensitive; Sybil = joyful), but that’s generally where it stopped. He felt too uncomfortable to be around them too often when they were babies. They cried, and it made him nervous and upset (what was wrong?). When they were just beginning to toddle, they’d fall or try to speak to him but he couldn’t quite understand what they were saying. (“What does one say to a nineteen-month-old girl, anyway? How are you enjoying the weather?”.) At age five onward, their world blossomed for him. They were funny and clever and loved to perform their plays for him. Sybil sketched him pictures, which Cora included in her letters while he was fighting the Boers. Edith showed him her poetry, which he thought was quite good! Mary rode out with him on her pony and eventually he taught her to hunt. He liked that.

Cora longed for a family she could feel close to. She wanted to be a mother more than anything else. She:

was never particularly close with her own mother. They were very different and Martha always seemed to expect Cora to be a little braver or sharper than Cora ever was. She was never meek, not by any means, but she was an introvert, something Martha didn’t understand. Martha also exhausts Cora — she sees her as a small-doses person.

adored her father, but left on fairly uncomfortable terms with him. He didn’t disagree with the marriage, necessarily. But he felt his treasured daughter was being taken advantage of, even in spite of her earning a title.

had a lukewarm relationship with Harold. He was younger than her by only a year or so, but he was always a bit of a grumpy little guy. They banded together against their mother, and they’d do anything for one another if it came to it, but Cora thinks he could be smarter. He makes poor decisions. And Harold thinks she was the favorite and a goody-two-shoes. (She was.)

yearned for a nursery full of babies. She felt a little less in charge than Nanny was of her daughters when they were small, and she hated that. Nanny intimidated her, which Violet assured her was exactly how it should be. (“Nanny knows best, Cora. It is her job to know best.”) She was happy to nurse her babies, and thankful the doctor recommended it for she knew Violet would never have allowed it. It was the only time she could be alone with them. She would slip into the nursery and talk to them and touch their little noses and hold their little hands, marveling at how perfect they were. She felt a little like an intruder, and she always found herself asking if she could hold them. It was another thing she hated. She liked to buy little dresses and adored to see them dressed like little dolls. As they grew older, she felt a little on the back foot. She didn’t know what to do in the mother-role for teenaged girls. Her own mother had been so overbearing. She would catch glimpses of her own mother in her actions (especially with Mary) and, feeling strange and guilty about that, would whisk them away to London for new frocks and take them to eat at a hotel, winking at them that it was “their secret.”

really, really, really wanted to have a son. After the Titanic went down, and before she really got to know Matthew, she went to London to a certain Doctor Ryder. (Rosamund had spoken of him in conversation, though she didn’t outright suggest Cora should go. She and Rosamund are cordial at best. She wanted to be close, and they could have been, but Rosamund felt a little resentment at Cora ranking higher than she did in the home she grew up in). Cora was still young enough to conceive, physically. And she had a small operation to remove scar tissue left by Sybil’s birth which had been quite traumatic. She never told Robert, not out of fear he wouldn’t understand, but because he took to Matthew much sooner than she did (her loyalty was to Mary), he believed in the honor of things, and because she didn’t want him to get his hopes up if nothing came of it. Something did come of it. Alas … She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge that the miscarriage would have been a son, that the baby was a boy. She never talked about him to Robert because she couldn’t bear it. It was too awful. She did tell him she was sorry, though she didn’t verbalize what for. He knew, though, and dismissed it.

It was Robert and Cora who brought the Crawleys closer after that first year of marriage, with Mary, really. The Crawley family had always been loyal to one another, but something about the way Robert and Cora looked at Mary warmed the family from the inside out.

Their grandchildren are the absolute light of their lives. They spoil them completely rotten. Way too many gifts. Way too many games. Way too many hugs and tickles and giving them sweets with a “it’ll be our little secret” as Mary, Edith, or Tom sigh heavily. (Robert is MUCH worse than Cora in giving the children sweets; Cora finds this adorable.)

They have way too many photos of them all on every surface. Cora commissioned an artist to sketch and oil pastel all their cherubic little faces. Robert constantly suggests that they all come and stay at Downton for an extended holiday. Again, Edith and Tom sigh.

#cobert #downton abbey #cora crawley #robert crawley #my headcanon fun #this one was sweet!

[numbknee]

i seek your advice numbknee. i really wanna write my own kyman fics and i have so many ideas for them but i’ve never written a fic before and i’m frightened to dip my toes into it. i’m not a writer, i’ve never written before. like how do you just sit down ans qrite something??? jfkgk i’m so confused, what’s your process or do you have any writing tips? i ask you cuz i love your writing and i look forward to your posts a lot.

That's so awesome, good for you dude!! Writing can be a really fun creative hobby but I totally get where you're coming from. The first fic I ever wrote was for the adventure time fandom 10 years ago (yikes I'm old lol) and I was really scared to post it. I don't remember how exactly I got the courage to finally put it out there but it def feels like diving into the deep end. Just know that everyone has to start somewhere!

The good thing about fanfiction is that it's as "low stakes" as you can probably get when it comes to creative writing. It's not for a job, it's not for any academic assignment, it's just something you do for fun. And I think the culture around fanfiction understands that a lot of writers are amateurs and are generally supportive regardless of your starting level in terms of skill. Personally, I would rather read from an inexperienced writer who's clearly trying their best and has some interesting ideas over a more polished/experienced writer taking themselves too seriously or treating fanfic writing like a competition.

There's no single "correct" way to write, because ultimately you have to do what best suits your own style and preferences. But for me, I generally start out with an idea for a single scene that inspires me and come up with a story around that scene so it fits into a cohesive fic. For example, for my first kyman fic I initially had the idea in my head of Kyle being mesmerized by Cartman dressed in drag and impulsively making a first move on him. I worked backwards from there, so I had to come up with 1) why he was doing drag in the first place, 2) why Kyle would be there watching him, and 3) how they end up alone together so Kyle can make the first move. The last one was the trickiest for me to figure out for some reason, but eventually I came up with the idea of Cartman tripping in his giant heels and injuring himself so Kyle would have to help him inside the house. It was funny but also helped move the plot along.

Planning out the scenes ahead of time like this can help a lot, but also don't be afraid to change things up as you write it out if you think something else works better. Since you have a bunch of your own ideas, start out with the one scene/scenario that inspires you the most and plan it out from there. I'd suggest first writing a shorter one-shot since that's easier to plan for than a longer, multi-chaptered fic. There's a ton of resources online you can find to help with story structure if you're not sure where to start or how to build on your idea. (Like this video about the 6 essential questions of storytelling).

Other logistical things: Make sure you save your work frequently. Spell-check is your friend. If you're not comfortable asking someone to beta-read your fic, use text-to-speech or read it aloud yourself to help catch any mistakes and listen to how sentences flow. I highly recommend using AO3 to publish your work since it has a great tagging system and helps you get visibility because of that, but also ensures your work will stay safe from the whims of corporations destroying/erasing fanworks since it's independently run and funded.

One last thing to keep in mind: it's nice to get positive interaction from the fandom, but ultimately you should write for yourself and your own enjoyment. If you only write seeking the approval of others, you're never going to be happy because you're solely basing your writing's worth on strangers' opinions. There have definitely been fics I've written that didn't get as much interaction as I would have liked, but in the end I was happy I wrote it because it was something I could be proud of having made for myself as my own audience.

Hope this helps! Good luck 👍

#ask #anon #my post

[gildedmuse]

Yeah, the only way I can see Zoro becoming a Captain is if Luffy specifically orders Zoro to become one.

One of my very earliest story ideas set in the world of One Piece - for serious, I was but a wee infant fan barely able to toddle to her phone and then be immediately insulted by the lack of Zoro/Mihawk - actually delt in this "trope". [I was also set pre-Skypiea, so at this point I had still mostly seen the filler arches and let me say.... Skyiea did very little to change my opinion on that matter.]

In basic terms, the idea involved the Strawhats forced to sail through this series of closely linked islands, each with their own little societies of very gossipy but very different - at least in the native's opinions - cultures/morals/cuisine/whatever (alternative they could have just been rural populations of very dedicated bounty hunters; we're talking backwater enough that they would have been shocked to hear that whippersnapper Shanks made captain much less Yonko).

You would think such a place would be paradise for pirates on the run, but the truth is, these Islanders may rarely get flooded with new bounty posters of Wanted Men (and Women, and Fish-people and Mers and Minks and listen these people don't discriminate against a criminal with a price on their head) but that hardly stopped them making and spreading their own their through little archipelago whenever a clear threat was so spotted.

Look, it wasn't Luffy's fault he may have accidentally on purpose destroyed this town's entire floating fishery and aqua garden - the only one they had available in their rather unreasonable mountainous winter island habitat - but on top of the wanted poster someone finds stuffed in his back pocket, it spells death.

Luckily, they do have Robin around at this time, and she knows just enough about these islands, peoples and customs to have just the solution.

Make Chopper-San captain! After all, who would expect such a brilliant, caring doctor to be a horrible, criminal pirate captain!

Arg, Robin-san you idiot! You can't make him happy just by saying he'd be such a good doctor captain!

Surprisingly, it's not Nami who takes issue; she may not trust Robin like "the boys" (because she "has boobs and funny powers" *sigh*) because she Also recognizes that Robin is, like her, a smart surviver, and that she is willing to support (well at least until it becomes dangerous and let advantageous). So Nami's vote goes to Robin's plan: have Chopper act as captain until they're safely out of these crazy waters. Of course, as the plan came from the intelligent Robin-swan and has the approval of the beautiful Nami-chan, Sanji wouldn't say a bad word against it, but you can tell in the way he eyes the horizon he's preparing himself for the inevitable trouble.

Then of course, there's the matter of convincing Luffy who,

"Hmm? You mean like playing pirates! Oh, I call captain!"

"Luffy, you can't be captain, the whole point is that Chopper has to be captain so they don't come after us like that again!"

"Hmm? Okay, well then I want to be......Oh! I know-"

And just like that he runs off to get whatever supplies he needs to "play pirate", leaving a cheerful crew (and one very happy reindeer, currently beaming as Robin fits him with his own little captain hat and Usopp takes out an old bit of sail, asking what he wants his Jolly Roger to look like.)

The only one completely unamused is, of course, Zoro is against it on principle (even though he thinks Chopper looks sweet as a baby angel in his captain's hat, I mean just look at their doc!) Oye, where's she get off, telling the crew who their captain is!? What is that women even on about? Zoro and the Merry only have one captain and they can't just go changing that on her whims! If they get to the next island and people are still pissed, just let him and Luffy fight them off! That's what THEY do on the crew!

But it's too late, Luffy likes the sound of this game, so from now until after the next island they're officially the Cotton Candy Pirates!

But of course at each island something goes wrong and in a panic they switch to another captain.

Each rotating Captain gets the whole expierence:

☠️ Naming and "recruiting" a crew, though that last one is more just assigning everyone a roles (Luffy insists it's absolutely necessary for any pirate captain, even only a temporary pretend one; though sometimes it's a necessary swap when the townspeople ask why their doctor looks so much like that doctor pirate captain they just heard of from the last island.)

☠️ Their own Captain's hat, of course, and sometimes the full Captainly ensemble to match (don't ask from where, from the same jumbled pile of clothes they pull all their other outfits, okay?)

☠️ A new flag adorned with their own Jolly Roger (courtesy of Usopp)

☠️ A banner on the side of the Merry (again, Usopp, with some help from Chopper and Robin) with their new crew name, just to make it clear they aren't the Strawhats.

☠️ Something inevitably go horribly wrong, forcing another quick disguise change for themselves and Merry before the next Island.

In case you're wondering.... (You weren't, but you're gonna suffer through it.)

Chopper takes his role very serious, which means he has lot of fun since he basically gets to play pirates with his best friends! Usopp makes him a flag, Robin finds him an awesome costume, Sanji calls him "Doctor Captain-san" - Usopp said his name should have been scarier but Chopper didn't want any of the kids to get scared of doctors even though they only had to stay on this Island for six hours for the log pose to reset - and gets him a sweet whenever he asks (except when Nami, who claims she is playing the ship's OTHER doctor, says that he will give himself a tummy ache). Luffy beats around on a bunch of pots and pans which the others hate but he says he has to because he's the musician and that all pirate crews have a musician (Chopper wonders why they don't have a musician, but he doesn't think to ask at the time). Since Usopp offers to be the new navigator Chopper asks Robin to be his first mate, and then asks Zoro please if he wouldn't mind being the crew's army fighter protector, since he's the strongest person Chopper knows. He doesn't play with them very much but he does smile just a little when Chopper asks so Chopper thinks he's a pretty good captain!

That is until he talks to some poor weak looking lions that are all beat up and come sniffing around the ship for scraps. He tries to give them some medicine, but the town folk don't like that at all. They have to leave really quick, but as Captain, Chopper decides they're taking the lions with them to the next Island, where hopefully they'll be safer!

Usopp goes next because, well, he's the one who convinces the next island that of course they aren't those cowardly, evil Cotton Candy Pirates! Haven't they heard of the great Usopp Pirates before, led by the famous captain Sniper Warrior Of The Giants Kyoyūshi Usopp! In fact, these are lions they recently saved from some totally different terrible pirates the, Errr, Strawhats, who you probably haven't heard and certainly don't need to worry about, not after Usopp took care of them! They had been abusing these poor, sick lions and forcing them to go to towns and scare people or they would be beaten and starved.

Fortunately, Usopp happens to have world famous linguist on his crew, Chop-Chop. After he ate the Tenuki no mi, he can even talk with animals, and so Usopp gives the people his solemn word as the strongest, most trustworthy captain in all the seas these lions won't hurt anyone in the town. Indeed, they've promised to work alongside you fine citizens while hunting and even guarding you from pirates, just so long as you promise to share some of what they hunt and don't beat them or chase off their young! Their doctor, uh, Mizzie Sunday, has plenty of experience as a veterinarian as well. She'll be happy, with Chop-Chop's assistance, to help get both lions and people set up and comfortable with this prosperous new alliance!

Yes, it's true, Usopp's crew is quite amazing! You should meet, um, Cat! She may look pretty and sweet but actually she's one of the most fearsome swordsmen of all times! Huh? Oh, well, she often makes him hold her swords, so she can decide which one is best depending on the battle. That's how amazing she is! And she trusts Zo-Ro-Zo because as their cook he is excellent with knife care! Oh, this is his first mate and trust advisor Yonji - eh? Haha, right now he forgot you hate telling people your first name! (Why would Sanji hate the name Yonji so much? What did Usopp say?) They simply call him, The, uh, Heart Breaker, for the wherever he goes women fall over themselves, helpless at their charm!

And finally of course, this is our bard, the man in charge of chronicling my many amazing and legendary deeds! We call him Monkey but he has many names, they say no one has yet to know them all!

So if you could just do us a favor and -

Usopp spent most of the next four days talking. Of course they ended up in trouble by the end!

I could go through each and every one one of these crews but let's just say when it gets to Zoro it goes something like this.

Zoro: So... I'm the captain, now?

Sanji: *trying not to look nervous after what he had Zoro do*

Chopper & Usopp: *jump to attention*

Robin: Yes, Captain-san, we await your orders. *Smile*

Luffy: *lies on his favorite spot, watching Zoro curiously*

Zoro: *Nods, seriously* Good.

Zoro: Oye! Luffy, get your ass own here!

Zoro: I'm making Luffy captain. *Throws Luffy the ridiculous cape Usopp had given him* And since I'm captain no one can do a damn thing about it. *Stocks off to go get in a much needed nap until Luffy inevitably causes a fight to break out*

The End

#that got so long I'm sorry #I had a list of all the names and everyone's position in each crew #then realized that was not the ask #one piece #roronoa zoro #Roronoa Not A Pirate Hunter Zoro #its a flawless disguise #god ussop #the strawhats #Strawhat Antics #nico robin #tony tony chopper #cat burglar nami #vinsmoke sanji #monkey d luffy #everyone is a captain #stupid adventures #weird fics I never wrote #ask and you shall receive #amusing musings #one piece fanfiction #loyal first mates

[shanaoh]

“No doubt, you’ll slaughter the competition.” Both her spiritron costume and dance choreography had earned the Caster’s nod of approval. He wasn’t exactly familiar with all this ‘idol’ business . . . but the concept seemed straightforward enough. The art of war and dance of death were both skills he was sure to be indispensable to the Rider’s goal. Still, there was one thing on his mind. “Though I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing before, Yoshitsune. Do you have much experience?”

".....It is not that I have much experience." The woman's expression dipped, eyes aglow from delight from his approval dimming as all came to a pause. It was not so much that her eyes became distant so much as an weariness that was always pushed behind her came to the forefront. The truth of a life far older than she appeared taking centre stage as the question washed over and the answer seemed to fail to come to.

At least, not immediately.

"My teacher once wished for me to do as children would. To Play, to dance, to sing..." Minamoto no Yoshitsune sighed, her hand dropping onto the ever familiar object. Even now, it was a static fixture within it all. A promise, a reminder that was needed lest she forget herself in the farces she DARED to live from time to time. "

How funny it must be to her teacher. To know the extent of that very foolishness SHANA-OH was; to know that even now within the sheathe of her younger self that she would still attempt to listen at the stipulation at the behest of pleasing others even now. Foolish Shana-oh, Foolish YOSHITSUNE. She truly seemed to never learn could she? Hatred and bloodlust was a deadly cocktail that she continued to grow drunk and fat upon. "A stipulation to accept me as her student."

"Any experience I have stems from that." The smile that stretches across her lips is souless steel and sweet. A means to the end, to deliver it, a weapon's confidence. Like a vulture engorged on the entrails of the dead. She could never stop eating those scraps of humanity's waste. To play to the whims of humanity yet never engaging, never embracing. "You will find that too, I excelled at that as well in order to achieve my desires."

MINAMOTO NO YOSHITSUNE what a delightful blade, what a delightful object of fascination would she make.

#so this ruined my life and my crops are flourishing and DYING #ic.wander tales #ask.tbh #I WOULD HAVE WRITTEN MORE BUT....THIS WOULD HAVE BECOME A FUCKING RABBIT HOLE #AND IM NOT SURE I WOULD HAVE SURVIVED IT #corrchoigilt

[apclbroken]

The first man that broke my heart

It was love at first sight, at least on his side. In his eyes, I was this perfect little thing he owned, someone he could control and shape however he wanted to.

At the beginning I would just watched him, he was funny and made me laugh all the time, he helped me overcome little things and made me believed I could do anything I put my mind into it. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful person ever born in the planet. During our first years, he was there to support me in every important moment, or to celebrate my achievements. He was so proud of me, he made me feel important and his opinion was everything to me. I believed anything he said without questioning, I jumped at his whim and went as far as to hurt someone I love very much. He said things to me that made me think he was the only one that really care for me, that other people were around just to make my life a living hell.

Our relationship grew into something I didn’t see coming; after 18 years, and due to a forced distancing for about 10 months, the veil that he had place over my eyes, fell to the ground and shook the very foundations of my entire being. The only man I have trusted my whole life, became the first man that broke my heart. That same man that made be strong and confident, was the same to bring me down and broke me in so many pieces I thought I was never going to be able to glue myself together again. The next 4 years were pure torture, he would still be there at every step I took but just to remained me how stupid or useless I was just because I didn’t want to do things the way he would tell me to. I lost my strength, my confidence, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was without his approval, he made me believe no body would love me because I was just a useless piece of shit that was not worth even a phone call or a nice present for my birthday. For the first 18 years he took me to the highest mountain top and convince me I was all the beautiful things in earth mix into one wonderful, smart, talented woman, just to tier everything we built together and bring me down to the lowest darkest corner of the underworld.

I can’t really explain how, but, after those four years of torture, I found the strength to get away as far and as fast as I could. The first years I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I felt miserable, I wanted to feel loved at any cost, and to feel validated, I would cling to anything or anyone that gave me the slightest sign of love, or care, or just appreciation, this led me to many mistakes. I still tried to reach him every now and then just to now how he was doing and to see if maybe things had change but every time was worse than the previous attempt and it would burn me to my core. So, I just stopped trying.

With time, it was easier to get use to the idea of not having him in my life, I still missed him but not as much. I went through the grieving process of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally, acceptance. Acceptance that this was my reality and that, for better or worse, he had been a very big part of me for a very long time of my life, and he would always be, and that, would never change, no matter how much I would try or wanted to.

In the middle of the grieving process, I try to reach him one more time but his comeback was lethal. If I thought I was broken before, this shattered me to mere dust, but regardless of this, and once again, not knowing how, I made it through, I found a way to forgive him for all the pain and l let him go. I was able to find peace and finally started to glue my pieces together, one by one, little by little. I had a lot of help on the way back up, my amazing mother, my soul sister, my wonderful friends, several psychologists of course, and above all, GOD.

In each stage of the grieving, I learned new things, mostly about myself and about the people around me. That led to losing a few other people who were just as toxic as him. It felt liberating. I felt as if a great weight had been lifted from me.

After everything and 42 years of history, somehow, I made it to today, now back in one piece, with a few scars and bruises, but whole again. I’m still rebuilding my self-esteem and confidence but everyday I get closer to where I want to be, not needing any bodies validation and loving myself so I don’t need to depend on the love from others.

About 3 weeks ago, I received a phone call I was not prepare for. The person on the other side told me he had died. I was shocked, and in a matter of seconds, maybe a minute, those 42 years of history came back crashing down like a 9.0 earthquake. His time on this earth was over and, if I kept a small piece of hope to amend our relationship, it flew out of the window in that very moment. I still feel the aftershocks, some days they feel just as strong as the first, others even feel stronger. My strength has been tested this past 3 weeks and, although I know I need to get through it, there are days I feel totally drained of energy or ability to deal with everything that came with his dead. But just as I did some 20 years ago, I will find the way to let him go again and have the strength to face the incoming challenges. I just pray to GOD to hold me tight, so I can get to the other side and emerge as one big, better, strong person, and hopefully in just one beautiful piece.

I’m thankful for him and for everything he was. Like I said, he was, is and always will be, a very big part of my life and history. This is my first step to let you go, again.

Farewell Daddy!