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tetsuskei · 1 month

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dew mornings and the bond of eternity – tartaglia [nsfw]

synopsis: your angel of a boyfriend makes sure that you know just how well loved you are

notes: for my favorite harbinger, idk what this is but breaking my fic virginity for him with this :]

warnings: fem!reader, reader is insecure, russian pet names, mating press, childe has a foul mouth, biting and marking, slight possession, praise, childe is called by his real name, slight oral fixation, implied oral (female receiving), he is extremely lovesick

you never learned to what extent someone could go when being attentive and observant until you met your boyfriend.

you hate how ajax is able to notice the slightest changes in your mood. you would say he knows you like the back of his hand, but it’s something more than that. almost like the two of you are fused at the souls. bonded for eternity.

so in the dew morning hours when you’re just a little bit quieter, a little more somber as he makes you both breakfast on one of his rare days off, he’s able to notice right away.

he notices your eyes don’t quite catch his own as he jokes about some silly thing one of his siblings did weeks ago, how your smile falters instead of shining bright the way that he loves to see, how you pick at your fingers and gnaw on your lip in thought.

“ptichka?” he hovers over you, taking your face in his hands and pulling you from your thoughts. his cerulean eyes scan you thoroughly. “did you not sleep well?”

“it’s nothing, it was just a silly little dream.” you wave off, smiling weakly. not a lie, technically.

ajax clicks his tongue. stubbornly, he leans into you, the smell of pine and mint following him. “it can’t be silly if it has you upset like this and you’re losing sleep.”

there is no way of lying to ajax. you know this well. he’s a big brother to three siblings, and he’s too good of a detective to be deceived. but that’s to be expected of a harbinger.

after a long, apprehensive pause, you sigh.

“…i had a dream that you cheated on me.” you confess, lowering your gaze to the floor. “and that you left me for someone better.”

it’s stupid. absolutely and utterly ridiculous. ajax has shown you enough love to spill over into your next life. and the next one after that. you could die and come back a thousand times, and there’d still be traces of him left on you. so to tell him this brings you great shame.

the question is, what caused the dream? guilt? shame? maybe you feel he does so much for you, that you’re lacking as a partner. that you could do better.

you wait silently for him to yell, for some sort of outburst to come. but you’re only met with surprise when you feel his hand on your chin.

“can you please look at me?” his voice is soft, and eyes softer as he finally is able to make eye contact with you. he’s so gentle. warm. he only looks at you with love and patience. “thank you, lisichka.”

“i may not have done anything wrong, and i would never cheat—“ he continues with a stern expression, “but i still need you to understand where my feelings lie with you.”

you start to shake your head, “i already know, ‘jax, you have never made me feel like i need to doubt you. i know how much you love me. i promise. i have no idea why i had the dream…but it just made me sad when i woke up.”

you don’t mean to lie about your hidden insecurities, but it’s not a conversation you want to have at the moment. you’d rather just enjoy the time you have currently with your boyfriend peacefully.

luckily, ajax overlooks your fib. he hums, kissing your temple, “how about after we eat, i run us a bath? and we do one of those face masks that you like? something to decompress.”

and for the first time today you smile and agree.

unfortunately it appears ajax is taking your earlier sentiments much more seriously than you thought.

as all dreams and nightmares are short term memory, you long forgot about what it was that made you upset, back to your usual self after the bath.

ajax swaddled you up in a clean towel, and just like he said, did face masks with you. it always makes you giggle seeing your boyfriend using one of your spa headbands to push his hair back. soon both your faces were shiny and clean. refreshed and replenished, you felt brand new.

but little did you know you were now in the jaws of a shark.

you didn’t make it to the bedroom. well, you did, but you didn’t pick up on the ginger’s ulterior motive the minute he kissed your cheek as you sat on the bathroom counter. he carried you to the bedroom, and that’s where it all fell apart.

“‘j-jax—“ you hiccup, gripping tightly onto his bicep. your figure is trembling against his, skin damp with sweat and glued impossibly closer to his.

so much for the bath.

“s-slow down…”

your boyfriend has been at it for awhile now, pummeling your poor insides with his fat cock over and over. the room reeks with the smell of sex, wet sounds imprinted into your mind. you can never forget just how great he makes you feel.

“no,” he huffs, fingers digging into your hips, “you’re not leaving this bed until i’m sure of it.”

confusion resides in you. what exactly is ‘it’?

he’s already worshipped you plenty with just his fingers and tongue. but you don’t dare challenge the primal look in his eyes. he’s absolutely greedy, not even letting you move to take care of him in return in anyway.

you yelp once feeling your lover’s teeth nip into your skin. his tongue laves over the offended area before he kisses the skin.

“how could i find someone better, when there’s not a single person more beautiful or amazing than you?” he pants, pulling away to look at you. his thumb traces your cheek tenderly and his cobalt eyes are trained on your fucked out expression.

“especially when your pussy feels this good? that’s just a bonus.” he rambles, groaning. his hips knock into yours more harshly and you wail.

“you’d have to kill me to separate us.” he admits darkly, but something tells you that even death wouldn’t stop him.

“‘dun want that, want you forever.” you say, clinging impossibly tighter to him.

ajax coos, kissing your nose, “and you have me. because you’re enough. you always will be. you’re perfect.”

his answer satisfies you and you’re kissing him again, nearly having tears permeate at the ducts of your eyes.

he laughs, grinning against you mouth, “milaya, you’re about to cum, aren’t you?”

“i-i” your words still fail to completely return to you but you nod rapidly.

understanding, he taps your bottom lip.

“open,” he commands.

falling in line, ajax pushes his fingers in your mouth. you feel your face heat up from how you taste yourself on him.

“good girl,” he praises, “always so sweet for me, hmm?”

you’re drooling on him, nodding and humming around his fingers with a hazy look in your eyes.

there’s a certain light in his own eyes that only appears when he’s with you, and with the way he is looking at you with complete adoration, you feel absolutely special.

“oh, look how much you’re quivering, you’re almost there. come on.” your boyfriend studies your movements, fucking you with slower, deeper thrusts.

the breath from your lungs nearly escapes you, and you feel a burning feeling in your chest. you’re creaming so much on him that it’s impossible not to hear the lewd noises coming from between your legs.

every sound seems to drive the ginger crazier. “one more, just one more for me, angel and i’ll let you be.” he coaxes, fingers moving again.

“i’m…i’m tired.” you sniff.

“i know, but you look so pretty when you cum. just one more? pretty please? can’t get over how you look. so beautiful…”

his constant praise is enough to make you cum once more, so hard that it blinds you. your mouth falls open in silent awe.

ajax groans, watching you come undone and hissing at the way you’re clamping up on his cock. it should be a crime how good you feel, because he could ever get enough of it.

there’s only a moment before he remembers he still needs to cum, and then he’s pawing and begging.

“fuck, let me cum in you…please…” his face is buried in your neck and a small whimper escapes him once he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together.

he’s shivering and hot, and his cock is extremely sensitive. every drag of himself against your walls drives him insane. he’s dizzy, nearly delirious with how much he’s holding back.

“wanna fill you up so badly, please lisichka.” he continues, pressing searing kisses to your shoulder. “want you leaking with all of my cum…want all of it in you.”

you don’t think he’s looking at you while he babbles and pleads to breed you, and you shiver at how predatory he looks at your lower abdomen. you lock your legs tighter around him, ignoring the overstimulation creeping up in you.

“yes, ajax. please. w-want all your cum. want you to fill me up!” you whine, a sound that makes his heart and cock swell all at the same time.

your next words startle him even further.

“i love you.”

and he snaps.

“hah—ah, fuck!” ajax curses, hips stuttering in their pace. he groans loudly, feeling himself spill into you. there’s spots in his vision from how hard he’s cumming and he wonders if this is what celestia is.

you gasp, jerking when warmth spreads throughout all of you. you can feel the throbbing of your boyfriends cock and his heavy load.

coming down from both of your highs, the two of you laugh.

“you surprise me every time.” you tease quietly, eyeing a bite mark on your thigh.

the ginger looks bashful, hiding his face in your shoulder. “sorry…didn’t mean to be so rough…”

“if i wanted you to stop at anytime, i would’ve told you.” you reassure, petting his head.

he plants a kiss on your skin. “good. and for the record, i love you too.” he murmurs. “feel better?”

“i felt better after the delicious breakfast you made, but you took it a couple of steps further like you always do.” you giggle, leaning into his chest.

ajax grins, kissing the crown of your head, “well, i could tell something else was on your mind, but you weren’t telling me.”

“you know me way too well. it’s terrifying.”

he puffs his chest out, “what can i say? i can and will only provide the absolute best for you.”

“i don’t like leaving you alone for as long as i do…i will try to get them to let me take work closer to home.” he adds, playing with your fingers.

and the beam on your face is all worth it. “really?”

“really. i’m not around a lot for you to do things for me, and i get why you may feel that you need to be better. but i adore you just how you are. i’m sorry for not being more present.”

“it’s okay, i understand.” you hum, kissing his chin.

ajax hums with appreciation before leaning down and chasing your lips, hungrily wanting to taste you all over again.

his demanding presence has you melting into him as you mesh together, tongues locking to consume the taste of yourselves.

suddenly he’s dragging you by the hips to the edge of the bed.

“w-what are you—“

“m’not done with you. far from it.” you barely can form another question before ajax is sliding back into you. a crude squelch follows.

the harbinger kisses your bare ring finger. “say, i think we should elope. what do you think about starting a family?”

key: ptichka = ‘little bird’, lisichka = ‘little fox’, milaya = ‘my dear’

#tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #tartaglia smut #childe smut #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin oneshot #genshin impact oneshot

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luciddownloading · 1 month

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Astrology Observations: Taurus Edition 🐂

🌷 Taurus Suns, Taurus Moons and Taurus Risings all specialize in the realm of the senses, the physical and aesthetic plane, but they do it differently from one another

Taurus Sun is the gardener. It's a pursuit that requires patience, persistence, and that unfolds slowly. These people know how to plant a metaphorical seed, water it, and allow it to grow. They are usually excellent manifestors, even though a) they may not actually see it as manifestation, just a steadfast desire to create the life they want and b) their manifestations may take especially long to materialize. But, like a gardener, it is only a matter of time until they have the most luscious plants and beautiful flowers. Taurus Suns are destined for material abundance. It's their birthright! (And if this is your Sun sign, you should actually get into growing plants or flowers. It would be really great for you!)

Taurus Moon is the chef. They can take a lot of ingredients and combine them to make something delicious and comforting. People with this Moon sign are often excellent in the kitchen. If not, they're huge foodies and the way to their heart is through their stomach. They also seem to have an instinct for what needs to be added into a situation. It's like their special secret ingredient but others will come to recognize it with time. It may be their humor, their stable energy, their warmth, or their level-headed ways. But, it's some sort of trait they have that nourishes and comforts others. Taurus Moon people are typically nurturing or supportive but not in such an emotional way. When they ask "what do you need?", they mean physical things. It could be a hug, advice, their quality time or money (many of them are pretty financially generous)

Taurus Rising is the artist. They see beauty all around them and want to replicate that into some form. Many of them will actually be very artistic. They could have a lovely singing voice. But, in many cases, their form of art will be more physical than emotionally expressive, as in drawings, paintings, photography, possibly even sculpture or pottery. Visual art. They themselves are walking visual art. Much like their sister placement, Libra Rising, they are either very physically attractive or they have a really lovely aura that makes them very attractive, even if they're not conventionally good-looking. They will also put time and effort into their appearance but it's low key. Like a masterpiece in a museum, they draw you in quietly, slowly yet undeniably.

🌷 Venus in Taurus people tend to be very vain and enamored with themselves, especially women or people with a lot of feminine energy. But, they also need to make sure they are very secure in themselves, too. If not, they could become very jealous or territorial. Whatever they believe is "theirs", whether it's attention or a partner or career status, when they're being low-vibrational, they will feel very easily threatened or overly possessive. However, when they are secure in themselves, they possess amazing self-love and can really pour into other people unselfishly.

🌷 Taurus people, especially those with their Sun or Moon or Rising in this sign, do have terrible tempers. They tend to have a long fuse and they are calm or chill most of the time. But, when they are properly provoked, they are capable of going off in a way that brings down the house. It's like a storm, like they are channeling Mother Nature herself, and they can go dark or even get violent. But, they are aware of this and try to restrain this part of themselves

🌷 Mars in Taurus men are traditionally masculine in relationships. They are usually not "macho" in an obnoxious way. But, they have a very solid, protective, reliable energy with a mate. They have provider energy, especially since they really prioritize their financial security. Yet, because of this, they tend to prefer a mate who will play a more conventionally feminine role. No matter their sexual orientation, they are more drawn to a partner who will either be a "housewife" type or a very doting spouse

🌷 Taurus Risings very often get "thick" as they get older. It's not looked at as weight gain in a negative way because they seem to put on weight in all the right ways/places. So, people may prefer them when they are a little meatier (and they may also like themselves better this way). But, they are just as beautiful in their "skinny era"

🌷 Mercury in Taurus individuals just like simple conversation. They really find pleasure in talking, even if they're not necessarily talkative or talking about much of importance. So, they can make what would normally be a boring subject or tedious social setting really enjoyable. They are super-easy to talk to and love to laugh

🌷 There is just something SO elegant about famous actors with their Sun in Taurus: Cate Blanchett, Daniel Day Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer, George Clooney, to name a few. They just come off as incredibly classy and respectable, like they're of a distinguished breed, which shows the innate elegance that Taurus Suns are capable of.

🌷 People with Taurus placements can simultaneously be very connected to their intuitive/psychic abilities but very unaware of them. Taurus is the opposite sign of Scorpio, an overwhelmingly psychic energy. Taurus can have super-heightened senses and, therefore, easily develop clairaudience, clairvoyance, claircognizance or clairsentience. After all, those abilities are just ways of harnessing psychic energy through the senses. But, because Taurus is more focused on what is tangible or provable, they may be oblivious to their psychic abilities or highly uneasy with them (unless they have a strong Water influence)

🌷 Taurus Moons can potentially be just as codependent with their mother figure as Cancer Moons can be, especially if they have harsh aspects to their Moon. In toxic cases, the mother or child may be too financially reliant on the other. Or, less dramatically, it can just be a case of feeling like your stability or peace depends on your mother's input. When Taurus Moons remember that their sense of security must come from within, the relationship will become healthier

/////////

Thanks for stopping by! You can check out my other posts and readings here:

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#astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astro observations #taurus #taurus placements #taurus stellium #taurus sun #sun in taurus #taurus energy #taurus moon #moon in taurus #taurus rising #taurus ascendant #mercury in taurus #venus in taurus #mars in taurus

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

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𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐞 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Other Joel Fics: Atta Girl [10.2K], PlayBoy [3K]

Summary: A betrayal causes both you and Joel to fight for your life.

Word Count: 5.1K!

CW: In order: Horror themes. Bodies. Gory imagery, fighting infected. Wearing Joel’s clothes. Fluffiest, softest, sappiest, most tooth rotting smut. Orgasm denial. Fingering. I have been a fan of the game for YEARS, given it is the first episode of TLOU TV I am basing most of Joel’s character off game Joel. Gif credit unknown.

Tease: “… You’re not wearin’ anythin’ under that, are you?” He whispers.

The static firework-like display of spores ejecting from the corpse slumped against the opposite wall had captured your attention despite the delicate situation you found yourself in. The tendrils of fungus creep up the walls, painting them with streaks of muted peaches and reds, not unlike human flesh. It bursts from the fruiting body as violently as a bomb going off. You suppose that’s what it is, a bomb detonating slowly, killing those that breathe in the cordyceps spores.

Your gas mask sits tight on your face, digging into the skin of your nose to effectively create an airtight seal to prevent the malignant disease from entering your lungs and turning you from the inside out. Even through the dirtied visor of your mask, you can see that the corpse has fused to the ground and wall it was once sat up against, calcifying to the brick and plaster. It’s reaching its final stages of the infection: complete takeover, encroaching upon any space it can find. You didn’t doubt that in 6 months it would fill the whole room.

Despite the crawling sensation that itches across your skin at the idea of fungus creeping from your body in the cover of darkness, you couldn’t deny the morbid beauty of the scene before you. It oddly reminds you of different breeds of coral, like the kind that clings to the Great Barrier Reef. There are tan-coloured, fan-like protrusions, long strands of crimson and tubal fungi that bust directly from the chest of the deceased. Silvery dust spores glisten under the beam of your flashlight, giving the abandoned house you had entered an almost glittery effect.

“Oi. C’mon.” Your smuggling partner's Texan typically cold baritone cuts through the uneasy hush in the room. “We stand in this shithole any longer and we’ll be ambushed.”

Peering up from the putrefied body, you find Joel Miller gazing back at you, jerking his head to the door in a silent order to urge you out of the rotten room. Stepping away from the body, you walk towards the exit.

“How much longer?” You ask, studying his weary expression. The two of you had been travelling for hours, on red alert for infected or human danger alike. Outside of the quarantine zone was a death trap, and Joel always insisted you both never get too comfortable. Always be cautious.

“Half an hour tops,” Joel rumbles, holding the door open as you step through. His hands smear it with blood as you walk by, the ghost of his fingerprints leaving ribbons of crimson against the surface.

The blood had belonged to a medicine dealer called Cain. Joel had been working for him, the two of you smuggling the precious supplies into the quarantine zones in return for ration cards and weapons. You and Joel must have made ten, hell, fifteen runs for this crooked fuck, only for Cain to send the two of you on a dodgy mission. You’d both been jumped by the middlemen who were meant to hand off the medicine- when under duress, they admitted to ‘just following orders’.

It hadn’t taken you both long to find Cain and took even less time to dispatch him. Joel had taken his time and, as always, you turned your back on the shrieks of agony as Joel delivered justice. Though he had been particularly brutal this time around, the crunching of bones and cartilage was loud enough to be heard over the dying screams.

Said cries of pain and the extended period of torture had drawn the attention of several Runners and Clickers. They’d overrun the smuggling tunnels somehow, obstructing your return to the quarantine zone and safety. It had been the fight of your life, and the two of you were damn near out of ammunition and energy to battle the waves of infected.

“You okay?” You croak, almost afraid to speak into the silence between the two of you as you stumble through the darkness, navigating using only the dying light of Joel’s torch. A small reprieve from the onslaught of runners.

“Yeah,” he grunts, his eyes drifting over in your direction. “Wanna get home. Think I hurt my ankle back there, fighting the clicker.” If it hurts enough to admit it, it must be bad. Yet Joel maintains a strong pace, refusing to allow the pain to slow him down. He was stubborn like that, the two of you always arguing about his thick-headed disposition.

You nod in silence, eyes on the floor and focusing on not tripping over loose bricks despite running this smuggling tunnel with Joel for years. It was probably so familiar that you could walk it blindfolded. The walls of this small passage had seen the slow and subtle changes in the dynamics of your relationship.

It had seen the beginnings of your partnership and witnessed you constantly vying for Joel’s approval to extend the coalition you had fought so hard to convince him for. The cracks in the walls had observed the slow-growing kinship between the two of you, jokes told and three-sentence conversations shared. The shards of glass swept into the corners of the floor had heard the difficulty you both had continuing those discussions after you had stupidly gotten drunk on this old whiskey Joel had found, kissing him in the early hours of the morning when he finally carried you to bed.

That was a few weeks ago, and he still hadn’t been able to maintain eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. Like a child unable to look into his mother's eyes when telling a lie.

Grabbing ahold of the cold handle of the metal door ahead of you, you force it down to open it. The door jams on the opposite side, not moving despite putting all of your weight behind it to the point the edges of the handgrip leave a rectangular imprint in your palm.

“Joel?” You call him, “Gonna need you to open this.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he responds, the same way he always has. He steps forward, the soles of his boots scuffing the floor as he approaches.

Joel shifts his shoulder against the flat of the door, hooking the handle downwards with his calloused, bloody palm and uses his strength to push against the blockage. The hinges of the door strain under the pressure, squealing in the silence as Joel grits his teeth.

He grunts loudly, heaving the door so the obstruction falls away from the entrance, clattering to the floor with a racket that ricochets off the wall. It echoes all the way down the corridor. You freeze, the deafening sound causing the hair on your forearms to stand on end.

The chill on your skin only intensifies with the blood-curdling groans that sound from the blackness.

“Fuck-“ you stammer, Joel’s hand quick to settle between your shoulder blades to push you forward through the open door. Adrenaline courses through you like a live wire, singeing your extremities and curdling your stomach as Joel forces his way through the door and pulls the pipe from his backpack.

Amongst the panic, you still manage to note that a metal storage unit that had once been set against the wall had been tipped on its side, forcing the door shut. Joel had used it just this morning to grab ammo before heading out for the medicine drop. Someone had forced it over- didn’t take a genius to figure out who.

“Gonna have to run,” Joel pushes you forward, causing your feet to stumble as you desperately grasp for your rudimentary shiv. It slices your fingers open as you grab for it in the darkness, terror pushing your body forward in a sprint. You can hear the thudding of Joel’s boots just behind you, and the screams and wails of the infected as you chase you down the tight corridors.

It feels as though seconds and hours pass simultaneously, your lungs burning as you suck in gasps of air through your gas mask. Your muscles are seizing, cramping up and your fingers sting with the cuts that you sustained from your blade. Over the all-encompassing sound of shrieking from the creatures and your sharp, shakey inhale, you can hear Joel urging you forwards. “Go Go Go! You got it darlin’ keep goi-“

It hits you like a runaway freight train at top speed. Thundering into you, a Clicker knocks you from your feet with an utterly horrifying scream. Pain shoots up your ribcage as you slam into the uneven floor, a discarded glass bottle shattering beneath your body and cutting into you. You’re scrabbling with the beast, its nails digging into your flesh as you stab blindly at its shoulder, your other palm on its sternum to hold it away from your throat while you scream for Joel.

“Joel, fuck!” You sob in fear, the clickers jaws gnashing at your exposed jugular, growling and snapping. In the pitch blackness, you can smell the damp, mouldy scent weeping from the fungus on its skin, the metallic, bloody twang of human meat on its tongue that wafts over your face as it heaves its breath onto you.

Your biceps scream under the strain of its weight as you feel the fungal growths on its face lightly brush at your throat as the creature goes in for the kill. Just as you feel its teeth skim your flesh, a sickening crunch sounds, and a hot splatter of viscous blood drenches your face as Joel removes the blade of the shiv he had plunged into its skull.

“Fuck, y’alright?” His gruff voice shouts over the din the approaching runners make from down the hall. He doesn’t really give you the chance to answer him, grabbing ahold of your hand and wrenching you out from underneath the limp body of the Clicker before pulling you along in a sprint.

You sob with relief as you both turn the corner to the exit. Joel wastes no time, running ahead to force the door open so it’s ready when you approach. It swings open so easily as if it senses your desperation, and you launch yourself into the safety of the building that serves as an entrance to the tunnel. Joel isn’t far behind, slamming the door shut on the hoard and bolting it shut with a thick wooden plank that you’d both been using as a stopper.

The room swims, the image of the door swirling in your vision as you lean your back against the wall, taking deep, heaving breaths in what both was an attempt to feed oxygen back to your lungs and also to alert your body to the fact you were alive.

You barely have a moment to thank God when Joel is on you in an instant.

“Good Christ,” he heaves his gas mask off his face, blood-soaked palms taking ahold of your chin as his deep, earthy irises flit over you, searching for damage with a panicked expression. You note it’s the longest he’s looked at you in weeks. “Sure you’re okay? Jesus fuck, I thought-“

He’s twisting your head from side to side, checking your throat for bites. The infected are pounding on the secured metal door, but the noise is drowned out, faded as you watch Joel tend to you. You like him this close, you can see the freckles under his eyes. You’re not sure whether it’s the adrenaline of survival or if there was a crack in your mask and the spores had driven you crazy, but you are almost certain that Andromeda lies somewhere within the constellation of the minute spots of melanin.

“Joel,” you whisper, breathless for a whole other reason than the fact you just fought for your life, “Joel, I’m okay.”

You watch your partner hesitate for a moment, checking over you one last time before setting his lips in a firm line, his panicked eyes growing protective in an instant. “Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that again. Y’hear?”

Cross-legged in Joel’s bathtub, hours after escaping the tunnels, you use rainwater and a sponge to scrub the Clicker blood from your skin. Even now, years after the outbreak, you found yourself silently pining to the walls in the bathroom for hot, running water. They were no genie, and never responded to your wishes, but your wordless complaints often made you feel better as you scrubbed cold water over your body.

The droplets are tinted maroon as they run down your legs, seeping down the drain beneath you as you meticulously work each disgusting patch of blood from your skin. Despite telling Joel that the Clicker hadn’t bitten you, it still came as a palpable relief to scrub away the grime and not see a single mark in the crescent shape of teeth anywhere.

You did, however, have some brutal cuts across your ribs from falling into the glass bottle in the tunnel. They’re like lightning slashes, open and sore as you run a fresh washcloth over the wounds. At the very least, they were superficial and didn’t need stitches. The last thing you needed was to be burdensome right now.

Stepping out of the bath, you wrap yourself in a towel, scrubbing at your face with your sore hands. At least the slices on your fingers from your blade had stopped weeping blood. You’re sore, and mildly damaged, but otherwise alive. Alive. The proof is in the reflection that stares back at you when you glance in the bathroom mirror. Though- you certainly look as though you had just stared death in the face.

You open the door of the bathroom slowly, tentatively stepping into Joel’s bedroom. He’s sitting on the bed, slowly easing his boot from his sore ankle with a hiss of complaint. It does look painful, swelling until the definition in the bone was encroached upon by inflammation, and you have no doubt it’s been throbbing with pain inside his boot the entire journey back home.

“I think you’ll need to take a break for a while,” you gently urge Joel from your place in the doorway, who nods simply in return. Yes, he was stubborn, sometimes downright pigheaded, but he would never be stupid enough to go outside hindered by an injury. There were more than enough ration cards to tide you both over until Joel was fit enough to do another run safely.

“You can- uh, grab some’a my clothes from my closet, if you need,” he rumbles, moving to untie the boot on his other foot and avoiding your gaze. “Don’t want you to have’ta put your clothes back on. They’re covered in clicker brains.”

“Thanks, Joel,” you whisper, despite the shiver of disgust that runs down your spine. Slowly padding your bare feet across his wooden floor, you approach his closet. All of the shirts and flannels he owns are thread-bare, soft to the touch from wear. You grasp at a grey and black flannel, dropping the towel to the floor as you pull the comfortable clothing over your head.

Joel is silent, his back turned to you as you dress. Perhaps it’s from years of knowing him, or it’s seeing how tight the muscles of his back are through the fabric of his shirt, but you know something is amiss. The discontent rolls off him in waves.

Wordlessly, you climb onto the mattress, approaching Joel from behind. He seems to tense up further, even if momentarily before his muscles ease again. You stay seated firmly behind him, just outside of his peripheral vision as you attempt to breach the topic of conversation in a way that the stubborn mule of a man won’t shut down.

“Is it the pain?” You ask delicately, voice soft as a feather as you watch him feel his swollen ankle with the tips of his fingers.

“No. No, it ain’t, I just-“ he exhales sharply, as though he’s urging the words from his mouth, expelling them from his lungs. “No I just really thought that I’d lost you for a minute there, ‘n’ I just…” He trails off, leaving the unspoken words to admit what he couldn’t.

That he couldn’t bear to lose you.

You nod slowly, despite knowing he can’t see you, as the realisation sets in. He cares about you more than he shows, more than he lets on.

Softly, you lay your palm against his back, between his shoulder blades. In the low light of the bedroom, Joel’s silver hairs gleam as he turns his head around to look at you. You feel his nerves before you see them, feel the shaky exhale he lets out against your hand.

“I’m still here,” you whisper to him, capturing his gaze as you attempt to bring him down from the fear that must have seized him. You drag your palm down his back slowly, and in turn, he leans his body towards you at an achingly slow pace. Your stomach is doing somersaults thanks to the way he gazes at you, watching the nervous trail of your tongue over your lower lip.

“I know,” he answers back, his gruff voice so much softer sounding in this fragile moment. He inches towards you, and you can see the fine creases in the edges of his eyes, the constellations of his freckles even in the limited lighting. “I know I just-… Wanna feel it.”

It’s almost as though there’s a static moment, fizzling in the air as the tip of his nose brushes yours. He parts his lips softly, ghosting them over your own in a touch CW that’s barely there but sets your blood ablaze. His breath, exhaled through his nose, tickles your red-hot cheeks and you grip onto his t-shirt until your knuckles turn white. You wait for the plunge, for the powder keg of your heart lodged between your ribs to burst with his kiss.

Cautiously, Joel touches his lips to yours in a kiss that sparks up your spine. His lips are slightly chapped, his moustache and beard scraping gently against your skin as you lean into the kiss, letting out a soft moan of relief.

Your fingertips are tingling as you brush them up Joel’s neck, cupping his face to hold him there. He’s so gentle with you, like he’s afraid you’ll turn to dust in his hands. Joel has lived the past 20 years surviving, trying so desperately to stay alive. You’re not sure what that meant for him- the horrid things he had to do- but in this moment he’s so delicate with you, his knuckles brushing across your jaw as if those same fingers hadn’t squeezed triggers for two decades.

Working your own fingers into his curls, you feel the vibrations of Joel’s moans against your lips. It isn’t overtly sexual, it’s as though it’s a sound of comfort- of appreciation for being shown some tenderness. He responds to your touches by tracing his tongue over your lower lip, deepening the kiss and pulling you closer.

“Joel,” you whisper against his open mouth. He’s panting softly, hands moving to your hips to hold you in place like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. “Joel, lay back.”

“… Yes Ma’am,” he murmurs, a hint of a smile spreading against your lips. You find yourself relieved he didn’t argue, finding this nerve-wracking enough. It’s as though the two of you are inexperienced teenagers, fumbling with each other and fighting the butterflies in your guts. As brutal as the world you both fought to survive in was, there’s an innocence settling between you, nervous laughs shared as Joel lays back slowly against the pillows.

He gazes back at you as the crown of his head settles, holding his breath as he awaits your next move. Swallowing thickly, you watch Joel’s hand slowly reach for your knee. He swirls his thumb in uneven circles over your patella, gently coaxing you out of your shell. “You good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” You whisper breathlessly, the soft and innocent touch leaving tingles in its wake. “Yeah ‘m fine.”

Joel, the hardened bastard that he is, doesn’t give much away. However, you see the edge of his lips lilt upwards at your less-than-convincing answer sliding his palm up the bare skin of your thighs. His hands are warm, calloused from hauling ass across the country and slicing open Clicker throats to protect you.

Swallowing thickly, you loop your thigh over his hip to straddle his waist. He watches you, his dark lashes dipping low as he witnesses you seat yourself across his abdomen. As you sit, the leather of Joel’s belt bites into the soft skin of your flesh.

“… You’re not wearin’ anythin’ under that, are you?” He whispers. It’s less of a question than it is a statement, those dark, mahogany eyes gazing up at you with a knowing expression. It’s intimidating, and you find yourself unable to answer with anything other than a slow shake of your head.

Joel responds with a low chuckle, tutting slightly as he brushes his palms further up your legs. They disappear under the worn fabric of his flannel, settling against your hip bones as his fingertips brush the curve of your bare ass.

Ever the gentleman, Joel stills his movements there and awaits your next orders, his eyelids heavy. You let a shaky breath escape your lips despite trying so hard to appear cool and collected, and you can practically feel the amusement emanating from the man beneath you.

Taking control, you trace the hem of Joel’s shirt and ease your fingers beneath it. Again, he’s warm to the touch, a human bonfire. It reminds you of the same level of comfort, the heat of the flames licking the skin of your cheeks in the cold autumnal air and providing relief from the numbing chill.

You don’t rush this, dragging the shirt from his body achingly slowly. Scars litter Joel’s skin, silver against the melanin. Sometimes large, wide and brutal across his ribs, others small and circular, barely noticeable. You notice them. You love them all.

Joel lifts his arms for you to raise the fabric over his head, and you reward him by pressing gentle kisses to the exposed skin of his neck. He hums softly at the gentle touches of your lips, his fingertips squeezing into the soft flesh of your hips. You’re almost certain he can feel the way you’re smiling.

“Mhm, Darlin’” he grumbles softly, using his hold on you to slowly grind your hips down over the soft flesh of his stomach, angled perfectly. It causes you both to stutter to a halt, your own pause caused by the spark of arousal that blooms through your abdomen at the friction to your clit.

Joel slowly uses one of his hands to grab the back of his flannel that you wear, sitting you up. His irises are inky black as he looks up at you, startling you into submission. Stoic, he says nothing, but looks pointedly down at his stomach to divert your attention. Uncertain, you follow his gaze.

It’s utterly mortifying. Across the tanned, freckled skin of his stomach is a silvery-pink scar. Following the same direction, a wet steak of your slick traces where Joel had pushed your hips down onto him. Shock and humiliation flood you all at once.

“Oh my God, Jo-! I’m so sorry-,” you stammer quickly, but Joel is grabbing ahold of the collar of his flannel with both hands, using very little of his impressive strength to pop the buttons on the stupid thing. The buttons go flying, rattling as they roll across the wooden floor and banging as they ping off the wardrobe. He exposes your breasts to his eyes, drinking in the view like he does whenever he sees a beautiful sunset while smuggling across the state. He stops and stares and takes it all in, just like he does with you.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about,” he insists, not allowing you to feel embarrassed a moment longer as he uses his grip once again to push your hips against him. Perhaps it’s the shock of his unfiltered satisfaction, or the arousal he draws from you once again, but you don’t find yourself fighting with him. Instead, you lean your head back as he directs your body exactly where he wants it, pushing your cunt against him and drawing delicious swirls of pleasure throughout your abdomen.

“That’s it Darlin’. Just relax,” he murmurs, clearly pleased as you begin to match his movements by rolling your hips along with his touch. Your palms rest against his muscular pectorals, nails digging in whenever he catches your clit just right. Sometimes he hisses in pain, sometimes he groans in delight.

The muscles of your thighs clench against his waist as the walls of your cunt flutter around nothing. Your jaw is slack, your mouth falling open as you crease your brows together and feel the surge.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel curse, the gravel of his voice tipping you ever closer, “I can feel your pulse.” He sounds incredulous.

“D-Don’t-“ you gasp, teetering on the edge of an utterly devastating orgasm. Your eyes are squeezed shut, focusing on that feeling that barely holds the seams of your soul together when he shocks you completely, using his strength to lift your hips from him just as your release bubbles up.

A sound of utter anguish reaches your ears, and it takes a moment for the pulse of your heart in your ears to subside before you realise it came from you. Joel is chuckling, kissing your trembling hands in an uncharacteristically soft move. Though- you suppose all of this is out of character.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel chastises you gently, in an almost mocking tone. He’s enjoying seeing you fall to pieces for him, even if it is just because you look so pretty over him. “I want you to look at me. Want to see it in your eyes when you cum.”

“Joel,” you wail, in utter disbelief as he shakes his head at your complaint. He’s not listening. Instead, he draws tight circles on the inside of your thigh. His touch is wet, your slick drenching the inside of your legs and showing how desperate you are if your impassioned whining wasn’t enough to convince him of your need to come undone.

“Listen here, Darlin,” he orders in that same tone he uses when on supply runs, the kind that makes you warm and fuzzy, “I ain’t gonna ask you to do nothin’ for me. Want you to feel good. The least you can give me is that pretty face.”

You swallow again, like you’re parched and only he can quench your desperation. Silently, in bitter defeat, you resign to a nod.

“Yeah?” He urges, wanting to hear you say it.

“Yeah,” you choke out.

“Good girl.”

Again, you moan out like you’re in pain, Joel rewarding your vulnerability by slowly slipping two fingers into your drenched cunt. You’re so worked up, so slick he doesn’t need to open you up. Your cunt takes the intrusion of his digits greedily, and your thighs begin to shake at the intense relief it grants you.

Agonisingly slowly, Joel eases his fingers out of you before plunging them back in. He doesn’t need to go fast, the drawn-out drags of his fingertips against the walls of your cunt enough to work up your arousal, but you know that he’s setting this pace to watch the micro-expressions on your face.

Your brows pinch together, and your lips form subtle shapes that indicate his technique is working. He’s watching your pupils dilate, your nostrils flare as you inhale sharply when he touches that spot inside you that makes your vision go fuzzy.

“Joel,” you wheeze, the dexterity of his fingers driving you very quickly to the precipice of something soul-shattering. The pads of his finger focus on that spot that makes your body tremble, and you’re sobbing above him, tears streaking your face. “Oh God, Joel, I can’t last-“

“It’s okay,” he urges you, so calm that he almost appears lazy as he curls his fingers inside you. “You know what to do.”

The bastard hurls you over the edge of the cliff he’s built for you, pushing the pad of his thumb against your clit. The most intense burst of pleasure explodes beneath your skin, streaming through your blood vessels as your body crumbles inwards. You’re not sure if he’s even circling your clit, if he’s moving his fingers because it’s so visceral that you can’t see, can’t hear, don’t experience anything other than the liquid heat that drips through you.

When you come to, Joel is humming softly, stroking his palm over the back of your head and easing you down from the clouds he sent you to with a gentle touch. You’re lying across his chest, his arms seemingly having pulled you against him during your blinding relief. You’re sticky with sweat, as though you’re coated in honey.

Joel smells like the apocalypse. Like earth and mud that has been wet with rain. The sharp smell of gunpowder clings to his skin, having coated the shirt he wore only minutes before. There’s the musk of his sweat, the tang that sticks to his skin despite the rain that you had walked home in after leaving the tunnels. It had washed away the smell of the blood and the grime but left every part of Joel.

“Oh fuck,” you choke out, and Joel can’t help but chuckle at the way you sound so fucked out. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple as he soothes your aching muscles from their contractions.

The rise and fall of his chest ease you down from your heightened state of shock, and your partner slowly peels the destroyed flannel from your skin. The thin bed sheets float across your body to give you some privacy, Joel wanting you to feel comfortable and respected despite him utterly destroying you literally moments before.

“That good, mhmm?” It’s said with Joel’s typically flat intonation, but you know he’s amused.

“Shut up Joel,” you whisper, still breathless. God, had he just stolen the air from your lungs? It’s as though every functioning part of your body has stalled, taken up entirely with bliss.

“Hell, you’re stubborn,” he mumbles, and it’s like he puts a spark up your ass, body jolting into action.

“Excuse me?! I’m stubborn-?!”

END

🏷️ Taglist: @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @ofmortems @hold-our-destiny @xcatnapsx @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @moonnaught @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina

#Joel miller #joel miller x reader #Joel x reader #joel miller x y/n #Joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel the last of us #the last of us #TLOU #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #1k+ club

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moronkombat · 6 months

Note

Hey! Could I get some headcanons about how Syzoth would be as a dad? I seen that you aren't well so take as long as you need to do them. I hope you feel better soon! 💚

tw: pregnancy

Syzoth is ecstatic at the news of his partner's pregnancy. He couldn't be hearing happier news

Actually breaks down into a sobbing and crying mess on his knees

The tears are for both joy and despair. He rejoices over this new found life but also apologies to the family he had failed to save

Loss is not unknown to him and he will never be able to truly live with the knowledge of his family's death. It is simply a part of him now

While he may, at times, feel conflicted about the pregnancy (feeling guilty for being too excited), Syzoth is, overall, in good spirits

He uses a lot of that guilt as motivation to protect his partner and their unborn child

Speaking of which, Syzoth is often worrying about your health and safety. He is terrified something horrid will befall you and your vulnerable growing child

Syzoth hovers around you frequently. At times, it feels as though he is standing right on top of you with how close he is

Truth be told, he doesn't even notice how clingy he is being with you. Wherever you go, he will follow

You need to get up and get something from the next room? Syzoth is your shadow. You want to take a bath? Now Syzoth does too. There is no alone time

Speaking to him about his worries has him apologizing but unsure of what to do. He is just so terrified of tragedy happening

He would really value a partner who understands this and accepts his methods, however overbearing they may be

Now, when it comes to the symptoms of pregnancy, Syzoth is at a loss

It is exceptionally different than the process he is used to but Syzoth is curious and motivated to learn

Finds it odd that a baby is carried inside until birth and questions how that can even be comfortable

His partner would laugh and tell him it's not exactly comfortable and something in him seems to flip

Never does he want his partner to be unwell so he tries his best to comfort you throughout your pregnancy

These attempts are...mildly successful. While he tries to cook for you, he is very much so not great at it

When he wants to rub your feet, he's a bit too stiff and rough or flat out ends up tickling you

He begins to feel quite down on himself for being unable to help much but he will be reassured by his partner

Obsessed with your stomach from the very start to finish. He is always hugging you around your waist

His favorite place to be his right next to you, arms locking you there

Eyes are closed and a cheek is pressed against a stomach that seems to grow more with life each day

He listens and waits, hoping maybe he will hear the soft chirping of his child. It is what he's used to after all

Instead of sounds there are sensations. The movement of your child shifting or lightly kicking is felt for the first time

Both you and Syzoth feel it together. How could you not? He is always clinging to you

His eyes widen and he looks to your stomach, puzzled. The wide eyed expression is...quite cute you think

Through a small laugh you tell him that he felt the baby kick and Syzoth is just in awe of how wonderful that is

He's quickly asking when the baby will kick again and you almost don't have the heart to tell him you aren't sure

Syzoth loves to lay his palm against your stomach. He feels connected to the baby when he does so

He will often hum very lowly as he rests his head against your midsection; a behavior that is popular among his kind

Syzoth would explain that the humming of a parent will sooth offspring while they grow

As delivery draws near, Syzoth becomes increasingly worried and agitated

He begins collected blankets, pillows and even debris from outside in order to build a nest as he is nervous about the baby being warm and having a place to sleep

Syzoth really fuses over making this little nest, wanting everything to be perfect. You decide to wait and tell him about the crib you ordered

When the time comes, he is a mess. He's pacing back and forth, terrified if you will be okay

The child between you two is...a hybrid and he isn't sure how easy the delivery will be on you

Labor is long and arduous with scares coming and going but all of those seem to dissipate when a small but strong cry is heard for the first time

The doctors let Syzoth hold the baby for a moment and he can't comprehend the small infant in his arms

He stares down at their screaming and wiggling form before he feels dampness at his cheek

He's crying, he's sobbing and then he is smiling. Syzoth holds your baby so close to him and says "I'm your dad! I'm your dad!" again and again

The doctors feel remorseful having to take the infant away and Syzoth is basically looking over their shoulders as they work

Syzoth would rush to his partner's side "Did you see? Did you see him? He's perfect, he's so wonderful!" and now he is crying again

All he wants to do is take you and your newborn home, bundle you two up in a nest and watch over you

Well, it turns out with Syzoth being the one bundled up and doting over the baby while you watch contently

Syzoth absolutely adores his child and is seldom to leave their side, humming next to them while they sleep and watching over them too

He thanks you over and over for giving him a family again. He tells you that he will never let you down

When the baby isn't sleeping, Syzoth is usually carrying them around. If he can't hold them then he will put them in a little makeshift wrap around him

You find the sight endearing and make sure to take lots of pictures of them

Syzoth wants to bring the baby absolutely everywhere you and him go. He is eager to show his child the world

His goal is to keep his family safe and happy. Nothing will ever stop him from that

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat fanworks #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #syzoth #syzoth x reader #syzoth x you #tw: pregnancy

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dwindlinghaze · 1 year

Text

ribbon and sweater

(remus lupin x fem!reader)

summary: remus finds himself slowly in love with a girl, but he doesn't like it, doesn't like the way you make him feel some type of way.

contents: fluff, soft/shy reader, enemies to lover (kinda), reader likes ribbons and pearls and angels and somewhat feminine, mean remus, angst to fluff. it's long so buckle up!

a/n: i'm quite proud of this cdhfyz

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you.

you with your pretty hair that falls to your face and the ribbons that tied half of them together made something in remus swirl.

the way you scrunched your face when you laugh with mary and lily sends butterflies to his stomach.

and he hated it. he hated how much impact you had on him. he always considered himself as a collected person, but he would fall for you all over the place.

maybe because he never lets anyone in and the fact that he wants you in is terrifying to him.

you were once partner in potions. he heard your sweet voice and it sent him spiralling in an alleyway. one time your hand brushed his when you were cutting gillyweed. the touch of the hand lit the fuse of a chain reaction of countermoves.

he first saw you this way when you were in charms class. professor flitwick was praising you because you managed to do a quite tricky spell.

his eyes perked up the moment professor flitwick said your name. he usually was the best in charms, but you were beating him and he isn't enjoying it. when he looked at your flushed face, there was no anger or jealousy anymore. he almost adored the way you smiled timidly at the professor.

he shook his head rapidly, scoffing at himself.

"what mate?" sirius stared at him with side eyes.

"nothing," remus replied

"are you sad that you're not the best in charms anymore?" sirius laughed, hitting remus side.

"shut up no," he said.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you were friends with james since fourth year because he thought you were a way to get lily to like him, but after being friends for a while, you actually grew on him and now you're actually friends with james, not because his needs for lily, but for you.

remus finds himself staring at you during classes you had together, rolling his eyes when you were laughing with mary.

and by the way, he hates your laugh so much because it sounded like an angel's harp to him. it's horrible how pretty your voice is.

"moony, you've been staring at the girl for a while now," sirius said in a sing-song voice.

"i'm not! she's just terrible. that ghastly pearls around her neck and ears is stupid. and those bows she never took off of her head is horrendous," remus huffed, flipping his book rather harshly.

deep down he loved it. he loved your style and how perfect you are in them. he just hated his feelings. he knows you will never reciprocate him and maybe by getting you to hate him can make it easier. so he knows that you will never like him.

"hey, watch your mouth! she's my friend y'know," james scoffed at remus, throwing a paper ball at him.

"no i'm just saying-"

"you're never this mean to anyone..." james raised an eyebrow at the boy. it's true, remus lupin is always nice. he doesn't hate anyone, he's not able to. "she's a big softie on the inside. you just got to warm up."

if i warm up, i will fall in love

remus ignored him, feeling his stomach grumbling.

dinner was then ready. every students were in the great hall except you. you were somewhere in the castle ground playing with the nifflers the caretaker just got.

remus noticed. there isn't any white or black or baby pink or blue ribbon in a person's head in the great hall. he finds himself furrowing his brows, not eating the food from his plate.

and then the door opened, you walking in with your hair messy from the wind. remus thought you look unbearably adorable. and he hated it.

"hi james," you said before taking the empty seat between mary and james. "hi," you smiled at the other three marauders.

everyone greeted you back except remus, who was sitting in front of james. he was pursing his lips, eyeing you weirdly.

james kicked his legs from under the table, making remus winced in pain.

you didn't know how it started but somehow, you were now staring at remus and remus was staring at you. millions of thoughts swimming inside your minds.

he looked very good under the candlelight.

why is her hair so beautiful?

his chocolate eyes are like a comet in the sky

her eyes are like a glimmer of sunshine

the freckles in his cheeks are pretty

she must be god's favourite because she is the best of all his creations

"are you two having a staring contest?" james looked between you and remus.

"no," remus replied before scoffing and rolled his eyes at you.

you felt yourself sinking in your seat. a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate, toying with the food.

remus felt guilty for making you feel this way. he wished to wipe your frown away. a part of him adored the way your eyebrows crinkled together, it was cute. but also he is one step closer for you to hate him.

when you averted you attention to mary, making a conversation with her, james kicked remus' shin, glaring at him.

"what were you doing?" james whisper-yelled. "stop being so mean to her!"

"ok," remus replied nonchalantly, brushing james' feet away.

"i think remus is in love with her," sirius said, maybe a bit too loud for remus' liking but not loud enough because you're still focused on mary.

"how's that possible?" remus huffed.

"well- for starters, did you see how moony looked at her earlier? it's the way when two or one people is in love with the other. i'm not playing around!" sirius raised his arms in defence.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"i don't think remus lupin likes me," you said to lily that night. you knew lily and remus are study buddies and maybe she can tell you why he was acting like that towards you.

"oh trust me he doesn't!" lily said. "remus can never hate anyone- and how can a person hate you? you didn't even do anything wrong."

"he was rolling his eyes and scoffing at me earlier," you frowned, playing with your fingers. you hated how you're overthinking everything you never did.

"he has anger issues," the redhead simply reply. "why do you care so much anyway? i'm sure he likes you. he may come off as rude or mean at some point and that's not your fault!"

"he seemed like a good friend. just disappointed that he doesn't want to be friends with me."

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the marauders were planning their monthly pranks, remus being the mastermind that laid groundwork and then just like clockwork, their plans cascaded in a line.

"let's prank y/n," remus stated, looking at the other marauders.

"what? no!" james refused. he has a soft spot for you, he feels like anything that touches your skin will burn the petal.

"prongs! that'd be funny!" sirius agreed to remus' idea, clapping him on his back.

"are you sure this is a great idea? i mean- she's like- i don't know. not prank worthy?" james continued.

and remus agreed with james too. although it would be funny to prank you, he would never want to hurt you. and what the hell is that? you're supposed to hate him.

"just not anything too much. nothing a tulip can handle," sirius shrugged.

you were heading your way out of the common room, a book about angels clutched tightly on your chest. you were walking silently and a second later, you hear a splash behind your back.

seemed like the marauder has missed their target, resulting a first year to be drenched in green paint.

you whipped your head around, hair flying behind. "oh gosh are you okay?" you kneeled at the little girl.

she was now crying, and you had your suspicions on a certain group of friends for this. the girl shook his head, wiping the green substance off of her face.

you cast a spell, waving your wand in mid air to produce a napkin. "here let me help you," you said softly to the girl as you wiped off the green off of her face.

"thank you," the girl whispered. despite the substance being completely wiped off, it still leaves a stain on her skin. "my ribbon is stained," the girl cried, clutching it with shaky hands.

"that's alright, you can have mine," you reached up for your hair to grab the thin bow off of your hair. "there, you look gorgeous!" you beamed at her after you clipped the bow in her locks.

"people make fun of me for liking ribbons and fairies and angels. i think we like same things."

"listen, don't let people get to you. we're young and still got a long life ahead, being someone you're not is tiring. be who you are and if people don't like it, then be yourself even more so they can suffer," you giggled, patting her shoulders. "go take a shower yeah? the green might go away."

"okay..." she runs off to the distance.

"james!" you huffed. you knew the boys were around somewhere.

"hi darling," sirius appeared as he put his arms around your shoulders.

"you guys were planing to prank me didn't you?" you squinted your eyes at the three.

"yup." remus said, a bit disappointed at the fact that it didn't work.

"why,"

"we are the marauders, darling, that's our job," sirius replied.

"why me? i didn't do anything."

"it would be funny to see you in green since all you wear is white and pink, elphaba" remus scoffed.

"oh you know the wizard of oz? wicked?" you started to get giddy. you've never met someone that knows that muggle series, it was your favourite.

remus, seeing this, feels like his heart was melting at your reaction. you looked adorable and excited. it drives him insane how effortless you can be.

"that's like a children's storybook. you're sixteen," remus, instead, replied.

the smile on your face dropped almost instantly, your heart hurts. you're embarrassed. embarrassed for being so excited about something stupid.

remus felt like he should bury himself under pounds of blankets so he doesn't get to see your sad face. he felt guilty for making you feel stupid. he wanted nothing more than to pull you to his chest and whisper sweet nothings in your ears. he couldn't though.

"i should get going," you forced a smile. "please don't pull pranks on me," you giggled at james before making your way outside the castle.

your book was left behind, remus noticed it. he went to grab the thick heavy book when a shoe blocked him. "let me-"

"what? you're gonna make fun of her for liking angels now? or you're going to burn that whole damn thing down?" james glared at the lycanthrope.

"nope. not any of that. i just want to see," remus fought.

"no," james snatched the book away from him before running to his dorm, tucking it under his bed so remus wouldn't find it. he's planning to give it back to you later.

"i think i missed a chapter here," sirius inquired. "since when is prongs more mature than moony?"

"since y/n i fear," peter quipped.

"you guys are a bunch of bullocks," remus grumbled.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

it was winter, your favourite time of the year. the scape displayed a beautiful scenery of the wildest winter wonderland.

you, mary, and lily were planning to skate on the ice rink in hogsmeade. coincidentally, the marauders are also skating at the same time.

you spun around the rink, snowflake hitting your lashes and hair. the sight of you were simply mesmerising. remus is in awe. you were like an angel.

your head tilted up, hair flying around with the wind. with the lack of balance you had, you scrambled, almost falling to the ground. lily and mary laughed at your antics, and you laughed too.

remus wanted to hold your hand as you spin around so you don't lose balance. and if you did, you would fall to him.

you were in your own world as you glide around the sparkling ice when you felt a presence beside you.

it was remus.

"hello," you tried to be nice to him, winter is not the season hold grudges. people make mistakes and you forgive them for it.

"do you ever take that ribbon off of your hair, it's ghastly," remus rolled his eyes.

"oh so you only came here to say that to me? well i personally think your sweaters are horrendous. you should try putting them on a washing machine because it looks like it hasn't been washed for months," you scrunched your face, making a disgusted face as you skate away from him.

it hurts. your words sent his heart breaking like icicles. he deserved it though. he had said stuff much more than that to you.

what makes his heart break more is that you never said mean things to people. you're patient and careful with your words and the fact that you snapped at him sent him to another dimension.

"what? you can't skate?" you chuckled at him as he struggled to move. you made your way back to him, helping him stand up after he fell.

he was embarrassed. after all he said and now he's lying cold on the icy ground. a part of him liked the way you were laughing because of him. it makes him feel fuzzy and warm inside but he hated it.

if he wasn't acting mean to you, he was sure he would open the door of his heart so easily. your soft hands grabbed both of his wrist as he tried to stand up.

your touch sent shivers down his spine. you never touched him before, only a little contact of the skin. your hands were like soft petals, opposite of his rough ones.

you helped him skate to where the friends were, effortlessly. "why are you nice to me?" remus said. "i've been nothing but mean to you."

"it's winter- almost christmas! it's the most beautiful season. i wouldn't ruin it by being immature," you shrugged.

"would you stop going so fast," remus squeezed your soft knuckles.

"if i go any slower, you will lose balance!" you said.

oh now you're thinking of his safety

he cursed himself for thinking that way. it was probably nothing. you always think of others.

he hates the way you make his stomach do flips. the swarming butterflies in his body is crazy. almost unreal. he lets go one of your hand and rest them on your shoulder so he can get closer and smell you.

you smelled like strawberry and marshmallows. it was sweet and so you. he would inhale your scent everyday and won't get sick of it.

"oh now moony and y/n is looking very cosy," sirius perked.

remus, hearing this pushed you away from him, making you fell to the ground with a thud.

and god he felt so guilty. he was sorry. he couldn't bring himself to say it though. his original plan was to make you hate him but it's quite literally impossible.

you were so lovely and he's such an idiot.

"ow," you whimpered as your back hit the ground. remus whipped his head around, eyes widening in panic as you tried to massage your elbows.

"oh god i'm sorry! i didn't mean to-" remus rambled as he grabbed your left arm, fingers grazing the fabric over your skin tenderly.

he felt horrible. he is so stupid for everything. he considered himself as a nice person but he was anything but.

"remus," you spoke, looking at him dead in the eyes. you were crying. "would you mind not touching me?," he frowned, his eyes were watery. he looked like he was about to cry. "i don't think i'm comfortable," he pulled away immediately. "thanks for understanding."

you stand up, wiping the tears from your face and went away to catch up on mary and lily.

remus sat still on the ground, unable to move as he watched you away.

"what was that?" james shouted. "you're an asshole you know that. she has been so patient with you! remus lupin, i'm not going to deal with this." james scurried away, scoffing at him with the nastiest look he can manage to show.

"mate, what just happened?" sirius spoke, a weird expression on his face.

"i'm in love with her," remus cried.

"would you care to elaborate? i'm lost right now," sirius replied timidly at his friend.

"i'm in love with y/n. i'm only being mean to her so i can hide my feelings. i'm so stupid. i'm tired of myself. just leave me alone!" remus yelled, his tears run cold.

"y'know it'd be easier for the two of you if you don't hide those feelings and actually be friends with her?"

"you don't understand! she would never like me. not anymore after what i had done. not ever. not even before. i'm a werewolf!"

"oh the books missed the part of werewolves being really dumb. moony-." sirius tried to speak but he was cut off.

"leave me alone!" remus snapped, trying to stand up unsuccessfully.

"fine!" sirius said, reaching up to where james and peter were.

remus watched you from afar, hands in your pocket as you looked down at your pink roller skate with ribbons as the laces. you looked so beautiful, and angelic, like a fairy.

you caught him staring at you with an expression like a broken vase. you paid him no mind as you skate around even more, scaring mary from the back which made the poor girl fell down.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you didn't try to talk to him the next day. and the day after and the day after. he wasn't being mean to you anymore. he's giving you space.

you don't sit next to james anymore during breakfast lunch and dinner. you sat on the furthest seat of the gryffindor table. he couldn't even look at your face anymore. heads of strangers blocking his view.

the other three noticed the shift in him. he doesn't talk as much anymore. although he is quiet, he's never this quiet. he doesn't want to be involved in pranks lately, he'd much rather read your angel book he found tucked under james' bed under his sheets.

he hated himself. hated the fact that he didn't make you hate him but made you hurt. flashes of you crying on the ice rink haunts him. he would never look at the snow the same ever again.

every time the snow fell from the sky, memories of you rushed back into his mind. his heart aches, his mind is his biggest enemy, the full moon is his biggest vendetta.

the next time he saw you was when you were sitting under a tree, flowers around you. it was like as if nature was your best friend. you look incredibly dazzling under the sun. it was cold. you wore your fluffy jacket along with some matching leg warmer.

he wanted to make things right with you. he wanted to apologise for what he had done. although there is a slim chance you would forgive him.

his palms were sweaty despite the freezing weather. his heart was beating rapidly under his coat. he mustered up the courage to talk to you after weeks. now that you're only meters away from him, he wished he can just sink down on the soil. being under there forever.

"hey," remus said shakily. you looked up at him, eyes a little puffy, you had been crying.

you didn't reply though. he didn't blame you. "you're not wearing a ribbon..."

"trying something new," you replied, rather coldly.

"i'm sorry. i hope you know that i didn't mean for this to happen. never," he spoke softly. ripping the grass under.

"okay," you nodded, and averted your focus to your book.

"i don't know why you hate me so much. what did i do?" you said sadly, after a while long of silence.

remus took a deep shaky breath, "i never hated you. i didn't want any of this to happen. this is so stupid and i don't even want to say it but i just thought by making you hate me, i can push my feelings for you aside. so that i dont have to hope for impossible things and face reality that you can never love me back. i know you cant."

"why not?"

"after what i've done to you? i doubt," remus huffed at himself.

"no i mean- before that. must be something right? you're a good person."

"how can you say that? you don't know what you're talking about," remus said.

"james and sirius and peter wouldn't be your friend for six years if you're a bad person," you shrugged.

remus felt himself blushing, heart warm and fuzzy just like your jacket. "they're crazy," he shook his head.

"you haven't answered why though?"

remus gulped. his throat went dry. "uh-" he cleared his throat trying to collect himself.

"if it's personal you don't have to tell me," you smiled a lip tight smile.

"i'm a werewolf," he blurted. his lungs were knocked out of his body by now. it's crazy how he can let you in so easily. he is a closed book at all costs but he would tear every pages of himself and give it to you without questions.

"for real?" you asked, eyes widening in awe.

"yeah, that's why i was mean to you. nobody can lo- uh like a monster like me. who am i to think that by some miracle you would reciprocate my feelings," remus eyes glisten.

"don't say that about yourself," you furrowed your brows. "i don't think anyone is a monster. it's just the books that says so."

"stop trying to make me feel better after what i had done to you. you deserve so much better than this- i-"

"i love magical creatures," you smiled.

"huh?"

"and werewolves are magical creatures!" you said.

"no, y/n, you love fairies, angels, pegasus, pixies, and things like that. not werewolves," he fought, breaking his own heart.

"no i don't. i love all kinds," you replied, smiling at him.

"no, you don't love me. you can't!" he felt tears streaming down his face like the biggest waterfall there ever was.

"i can love you. maybe i don't love you now but you deserved to be loved. and i know i can do that," you said.

"y/n, at least punch me in the face with a tree trunk first. i don't deserve this," remus spoke, wiping his tears away.

how can someone be so lovely and forgiving at the same time? it was unfair because the world is absolutely horrible for people like you. him for example, he's horrible.

you didn't punch him, you hugged him instead.

he couldn't breath the first seconds. the smell of strawberries and marshmallows were filling his nose, he could melt.

he gently wrapped his arms around your frame, careful with his movements because you were like the most expensive porcelain doll from the southern quadrant. if he was in the magical land of oz, you would definitely be from the quadling country.

"and by the way, i love your ribbons. you look pretty in them- i mean you're always beautiful. do you have any ribbons by chance right now?" remus mumbled, brushing your hair from your face gently.

"i do, i have two in my bag," you replied.

"can i see them?"

"of course," you said as you pulled two baby blue ribbons from your bag.

he took them from you, holding it like it's made of glass. he clipped one on your hair and one on his, which made you laugh.

"pretty," he smiled.

"remus- you look-"

"i look like you!" he cut you off.

"okay..." you chuckled.

oh he loved that sound so much. it's terrifying how much he loved it.

"i love your sweaters too," you whispered shyly.

"i have one extra in my bag, let me put it on you," he said, pulling a sweater from his bag and his eyes landed on your angel book he secretly brings around everywhere.

"do you always have an extra one in your bag?"

"no," he shook his head, embarrassed. "it's just- uh-" he struggled to find the right words, his cheeks flushing under your soft gaze.

his stomach was filled with swarming angel wings, mind filled with the thought of you. "let me put it on you. so we wear each other's stuff." he cringed at how cheesy it sounded but smiled when he sees your pink tinted cheeks.

the sweater fits on you a bit too big. it was a white knitted sweater, "i love it, thanks."

"you can keep it. i knew you'd like it," he said.

it smelled like him, looks like his usual musky green sweaters too- just a different colour this time.

"oh and by the way, here's your book," he pushed your book to you.

"i've been looking for this! where did you find it?" you asked him giddily.

god you are so adorable when you're excited. he's so smitten.

he scratched the back of his neck, "you left it in the floor the day we pranked you. i'm sorry about that. james found it and put it on his bed, hoping to give it back to you the next day but i found it and i kept it. i want to be the one that gives it back to you. um sorry it took this long-" he rambled. it was bewildering how easy it is for him to open up to you. narrating the story for you to hear.

"oh thank you!" you started to open the book. "i haven't read this yet."

"you're like a cherubim angel," he said, resting his chin on you shoulder from the back so he can see the book with you.

"what's that?"

"it's in the book," he replied, "and uh is this okay?"

"what's okay?"

"me being close to you," he pulled back a little wanting to make sure that you are comfortable.

"oh- it's fine!" you giggled. "you're warm, i'm very comfy."

remus hid his face in your shoulders, hiding his crimson cheeks.

"wait- you said something about cherubim in this book. does that mean you've read it?" you pointed at the book in your lap.

"uh yeah- can't help it," he said, flushing once more. the effect you on him were crazy. "do you want to read it together?"

"sure," you opened the first chapter.

"read it out loud, i love hearing your lovely voice," he spoke.

"oh what? no-" you have never read aloud before. nobody has ever asked you for it.

"i want to hear your voice," he mumbled.

so you started.

it was like heaven to him. your scent covering his nose while you voice filling his ears. he must be dreaming because no way is he breathing.

he interlocked his finger with your softer ones, wanting to never let go. your hair was brushing his neck as the wind hits it.

he felt like he's in a new world where there's only you.

you and your pretty ribbons on your hair; that beautiful smile; that lovely voice; your enchanting smell; you soft fingers; your back pressed against his chest. it was indescribable. he couldn't ask for anything better.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you two were hanging on the couch the next few days, james and sirius still not noticing the way you two are behaving. james was still mad at remus, so he barely knew what he is up to these days.

it was at night, the snow patting the window, glistened as it fell.

he remembered that day all too well. he still felt guilty for it.

but all negativity were pushed aside when he felt you shifting beside him.

you noticed the look on his face. "hey, don't worry about it. everything's fine," you stroked his fingers.

"okay," he replied. he has been mustering up the courage to ask you to be your boyfriend. he wanted to do it today. he feels like right now is the perfect time.

"hey, angel," he turned slowly to you, swallowing hard. "i would really really really love to be your boyfriend. if you're ready for this of course. i don't want to push things."

you blinked at him, eyelashes hitting your lid. "rem, i'd love that," you blushed.

"yeah?"

"mhm."

"okay," he said. "i really want to kiss you right now."

your heart skipped a beat at his words, "you can y'know."

"yea.." he whispered before leaning forward, nose inches away from each other. he can feel your unsteady breath, he put an arm around you to ease you up before his lips were pressing against your own.

you soft lips felt even softer when it touches his. it sent him in to a love spiral. kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats undercoats.

you were so sweet. tastes like sweet candy drops.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the next following day, you were sitting on the great hall right next to remus. it was questionable to the other because you and him were never spotted this close.

"do you want pumpkin juice?" he asked, pointing to the goblet.

"um tea please, no sugar," you replied, squeezing his fingers.

"oh of course no sugar. you're already sweet," he shook his head as he poured the tea in your cup.

james eyed him suspiciously, "i missed a chapter," he mumbled.

"don't know what you're talking about," remus simply replied. what sent the others even more shock is the way he kissed your temple so tenderly.

"oh we are dating," you blushed as you poked your blueberry pie.

"what?" james asked wide eyed.

"i knew it!" sirius cheered, almost knocking his cup. "he told me he was in love with her. i was right all along, of course i am," he threw his hair back.

"stop it," remus hissed.

and the others also notice the change since he's with you.

he now takes care of himself, starting from little things. he's always been a gentleman but never this gentle since you.

ribbons and sweaters are the things that brought you two together.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin imagine #remus x y/n #remus lupin blurb #x reader #remus fluff

2K notes · View notes

criminalskies · 8 months

Note

Hi Rome! I hope you're well 😊

Would you be able to write something about reader constantly trying to snuggle up with Aaron because they just love how warm and affectionate he is with them? They love that only they get to see this side of him and it makes them feel so so special. And Aaron loves the physical contact and the fact that he's not always the one trying to initiate it. He loves that they want him just as much as he wants them<3.

I think Aaron's love language is definitely physical touch once he's comfortable in a relationship ❤️.

Hi Sweetheart! I am so honoured to write this for you. I love this fic so much now!! Also I can only hope this fills the prompt for you <3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Aaron is a nervous MESS. This is enough fluff to kill a family of four. Mentions of sad moments in Aaron’s childhood, also, Jack doesn’t exist here. Not well proof-read.

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When the spark lit the fuse.

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Aaron Hotchner had been in love before, he’d had his fair share of dates in high school with one milkshake and two straws, he’s cared for a handful of people enough to watch over them, offer them his jacket when they looked cold. He’s even been married before, he’s loved someone deeply enough to stand up in front of everyone in both of their lives and devote himself to this person, forever. Of course, it turned out their ‘forever’ was cut short. But in any case, Aaron Hotchner swears up and down that he has been in love before, he’s experienced love before, so why does it all feel so different with you?

Looking back on all his years of dating and courtship and marriage, he sees now that those were all a more distant kind of love. Touchless. A game of push and pull with very little actual contact ever made. He had a partner, a lover, but never someone by his side. They always moved in sync, but never in tandem. That’s what’s been different with y/n, he supposes.

It wasn’t an overnight change, for Aaron Hotchner to go from a man who would reach out and hold your hand if the setting was appropriate and you seemed to really need his support. He’s always been shy in showing his affections, particularly in front of those he holds close. Maybe that was his father’s influence, always rousing at him to detach himself from his parents. Even going as far as to send him to boarding school because Aaron was too quick to seek his mother’s comfort for a boy his age. ‘For a man’ As he was so-called. He was fourteen.

In any case, Aaron’s always been all too careful with when and where he shows his affections. He can’t pinpoint exactly when or where you were able to tear down those deep-seated insecurities and shames of his, but you did it.

It all goes back to before you even asked Aaron out. That’s right, you asked him. Yet another reason his journey with you has been in stark difference to the dyssynchronous relationships he’d previously held so close, he wasn’t the only one putting himself out there. He wasn’t the only one taking steps to be closer to you, each step he took, he found that you had taken a great stride to meet him in the middle. He had never had someone match him each time he tried to deepen his relationships, let alone to have someone else taking the steps first.

But, before you asked him out and changed his way of living and loving forever, you were just a bright spark in Aaron’s dark days. You worked the reception desk at Quantico’s FBI field office, you saw the tired, dreary faces of every agent that walked in and out of the building’s doors morning and night. You took your position very seriously, offering each dreary agent a bright smile as you greet them each day. Aaron couldn’t help but notice you, like a moth to a flame, each morning after peeling himself out of his bed, he would run on autopilot, styling his hair, shaving, picking out a tie, packing himself a sandwich he probably won’t touch for lunch. It was all done without so much as a moment’s consideration, until he reached the tall doors at the front of the building. He suddenly becomes all too aware of the fact that he may have coffee breath, and his hair at the crown of his head is sticking out in every direction as he catches his reflection in the glass. He straightens his tie, smooths down the lapels of his collar and tries desperately to remember how exactly one pulls their mouth into a natural looking smile. Dear god, you make him so frazzled he even forgets how to act like a person.

All of his efforts to prepare for his fourteen foot walk to the elevator doors are never enough to stop your warm “Good Morning, Agent Hotchner!” from drawing all the air he was once capable of holding in his lungs - out of his mouth, jaw hanging slack where it once sat tightly drawn. He manages to draw in enough air for a rather strangled “g’morning.” as he presses the elevator button.

He raps his fingers against the handle of his briefcase as he eagerly awaits the metalling pang of his exit strategy arriving. He doesn’t hear you swiftly springing out of your seat and bounding around the desk over to him until he swears he can see the haze of your halo appear in the reflection of the steel doors beside him. He turns to look at you, partly in shock and partly because he really can’t help himself from stealing another look at you at every opportunity.

“Sorry, Agent. You just have, um. Here. Let me get this.” You lay a warm hand on his chest as you take his tie in your other one, using your nail to try to pick off what must be toothpaste off the sleek black fabric. Aaron feels a churning heat rising from his chest up his pulsepoint on his neck and spreading into his cheeks as attention is brought to the burning sensation of your hand against his hammering heart.

That was the first of a hundred small moments the two of you shared, in which your hands found a home against Aaron's body and his whole world became set in motion. Of course, he knew deep down that the Earth had been turning for billions of years before your soft hands barely caressed his skin and set his nerve endings on fire. Rationally, he knows that, but it’s like he’s experienced so much in his lifetime, it isn’t until your body makes contact with his own that he begins to feel the world around him.

It wasn’t long before Aaron began yearning for more of your delicate touches. He still denies to this day that he started planting feathers in his hair or roughing up his tie before setting foot into Quantico each morning. Of course he wouldn’t intentionally smudge some of his morning oatmeal on his lapel so that you would lead him by the arm behind your desk to the sink and dab it out of the fabric for him. The highly regarded, frankly, very busy SSA Aaron Hotchner would never spend time in his parked car scrubbing his rough hands over his own eyebrows, trying to get the long hairs to sit scraggly against his stern brow. That’s just preposterous. Ridiculous. As ridiculous as the way time would come grinding to a halt as you’d set your gaze on the scraggly brows in question, moving your eyes down to look into the swirling pools of chocolate and honey gazing back at you. Aaron would feel the flicker of a thousand nerves lighting up over his scalp as you brush down his angry brows with your thumbs, your other fingertips finding a home on his temples for stability.

When you finally did ask Aaron out, he was so wonderstruck your bottom lip actually darted out in a sort of tearful pout, thinking he was rejecting you or that you had embarrassed yourself and misread all of his lingering stares and increasingly radiant smiles he cast your way each morning. Thinking you had just imagined the regret in his voice each night he said goodbye, you thought he had been sad to leave you. Wanting to say so much more, but his silence now spoke for itself. You’d been wrong.

Aaron felt so frozen in his own body as his every impulse to tell you yes, YES, he would love to go out with you died in his throat, suffocated by the sheer volume of joy coursing through him. As your hand fell from the cuff of his coat you had clung to, and your eyes dart to the ground, turning your head away from him, Aaron manages to regain a skerrick of control over his own body, reaching out a hand to wrap around your bicep, turning you back to him as his cheeks warm and begin migrating towards his ears, making his beloved crows feet appear beside his glistening eyes. Yet again, he denies that there were tears at the notion of someone asking him out, of you asking him out after all this time, but you know what really happened.

“Y/N, nothing would make me happier.” Aaron’s dry mouth finally regains the ability to work normally. You seemed to now be the one standing in a daze, his hold on your clothed arm still sending the same trickles of lightning throughout your body that Aaron had felt through his own before, each time you’d held onto him.

As one date turned into many, and weeks spent together bled into months, Aaron could feel himself changing. Growing. You had come into his life and taken the wool from his eyes, showing him what a love can be like when the two of you want to foster and nurture it, carrying it between the two of you through your lives, even as it changes and evolves. The two of you aren’t carrying separate entities alone, but instead your hands are intertwined around something beautiful burning between you.

Aaron didn’t notice some of the more underlying changes in himself, he knew he could feel and see rays of sunshine warming him from within, he didn’t realize the sun was only able to find him because you had dismantled the walls he had built, that were casting him into darkness all of these years.

Aaron, however, was not the only one to notice these changes. After a rather successful third date, the two of you had planned a fourth. Sadly, a life of chasing serial killers and child abductors and otherwise scummy members of society got in the way, and Aaron had to reschedule you more than a few times before you two lovebirds finally got to go on another date. You were so excited when Friday night finally came around and Aaron had not been called on another case. You wanted desperately to run into the elevator the minute the clock struck five and pull Aaron by his coat out of the office and into the night, but sadly your coworker was running late to relieve you and take over the front desk. Luckily, Aaron was just as eager to meet you, and he felt ten squinting, profiling eyes on his back as he shut his office door at 5:02. He dropped his briefcase between his shoes to pull on his scarf and his coat before his long legs carried him, gliding down the stairs to the bullpen with a hint of a smile gracing his relaxed features.

“Hotch, I must be seeing things. Are you actually leaving this place on time for once? Is your office on fire? Did you accidentally forward your snarky email to Dave to Strauss by mistake?” Emily was the first to retort, leaning back in her seat and not trying at all to hide her amusement.

“No, everything’s fine, Strauss’ contact address in my emails is unmistakable. I learned that lesson years ago. I have some… plans tonight. Can’t be late.” Hotch offered Emily a smirk, quirking his eyebrow up towards his hairline as he ran a hand over his tie. A new tie, Morgan notes.

“Oooooooh no way. Ain’t no way my man has a date tonight! Aight, bossman. Take that fancy new tie of yours and show your friend a good time.” Derek offered a toothy grin, reaching his fist up for Hotch to bump as he breezes past, still not slowing to make conversation.

Hotch accepts Derek’s fistbump, much to the younger agent’s surprise, he expected his comments to get under Aaron’s skin more than anything. Hotch makes it a rule never to encourage prying into his personal life, but maybe he’s content enough with said personal life to allow a little prying these days.

Hotch reaches the elevators, pressing the button for Ground Floor as he offers his bewildered team a wave.

“Goodnight, agents. Please let me find this unit still in one piece on Monday. Remember to lock the doors when you leave, no parties, and no loud music after nine.” Hotch stepped into the open doors with a smile gracing his features and his team was left in what can only be described as shock.

“Okay, tell me I’m not hallucinating. Did Hotch leave this place willingly, of his own accord, on time, with a smile on his face and jokes? He’s got jokes all of a sudden?” Emily was blinking slowly as if to clear her vision, at the others who all appeared equally stunned by their boss’s sudden change of habits.

“He has been in a better mood lately, last week when Penelope kept referring to the previous case notes as ‘the tea’ Hotch made no efforts to correct her. The last time she tried referring to an unsub’s criminal record as their ‘bio’ he looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel trying to stay calm asking her not to call it that.” Spencer chimes in.

“Hold your horses, pretty boy. Go stake out the South windows in the briefing room and see if you can see our happy camper heading out the front door, I gotta go get babygirl to see this. She’ll never believe me otherwise.” Derek bounced away in a jog towards the batcave, retrieving the BAU’s most renowned gossip monger to delight in their boss’s new developments. Meanwhile JJ, Emily and Spencer moved quickly to the window in the round table room.

Derek and Penelope just made it in time, Derek pushing Penelope to take longer steps, her stilettos the only thing preventing her from sprinting to the window. The front doors of Quantico swung open, six floors down, a large arm holding them open as two heads of hair, tightly embraced, floated out of the tall doorway. The hand holding the doors is revealed to be their boss’s, holding onto his briefcase and shouldering a larger sage green bag, presumably belonging to the individual who’s seen leaning their head on Aaron’s free shoulder. His arm tightly snaked around their waist as their own arm disappeared under the shielded warmth of his long coat, wrapping around his back in a sort of walking embrace. Despite the awkward angle the team has of the couple six floors below them, they look to be talking animatedly as they walk, Penelope squeals as Aaron presses his lips to his lover’s temple leaving a warm kiss against their skin.

“How- How?! How long has this been happening? Quick. Profilers, profile! What do we know? Who is this mysterious fallen angel in our midst? Oh my god. We have to go to my lair tonight! I have to track down these star crossed lovers and see how compatible they are and oh! My god-” Garcia is cut off by her own gasp as she sees you and Aaron stop by the car, where he puts your bag in the backseat before bending down on his knee and taking your ankle in his hand, guiding your foot to his thigh where he ties your hanging shoelace. You’re still talking, your hands gesticulating wildly as you recall the events of your day to Aaron, who has long since finished tying your shoe, and is now just watching you talk, still pinned down by your foot, he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, even from six storeys up, on the opposite side of the carpark, Emily swears she can see a glimmer in her boss’s eyes as he watches his date talking. The lights on the outside of the building behind you, making you look like an angel to him as your ‘halo’ illuminates the signet of the FBI on the face of the building.

“So this is why he’s been religiously applying chapstick lately. I thought he was just becoming really sensitive to the wind.” JJ offers, Penelope jumping up and down and clapping her hands together in a silent celebration before clutching her necklace in front of her heart.

“He also changed his haircut this month. I have seen that man enter this office on the first Monday of every month with the same high and tight crew cut for like, three years now. This month he kept the top longer, damn we should have seen right through that.” Emily sounds almost disappointed that the team failed to see the lover effect in full force.

“Hmm, making it easier to grab onto?” Derek asks with a smirk. “My man.” Penelope’s hand comes up to whack the back of Morgan’s head in retort. Spencer stands, looking bewildered by the comment and by the sudden violence.

“Wait a minute. Do they work in this building? I know that face.” JJ questions.

“Yes! That’s it, they work at the reception desk! They always say good morning even when it’s technically 12:09pm. The worst time, though, they even said good morning to me at 2:35! Must have been having a long day.” Spencer laughs to himself, the rest of the team not finding his exact timekeeping anywhere near as funny as he seems to.

“Oh boy, I will have to ask them what bossman’s like on a date tomorrow when I come in. This is too good an opportunity to resist. Maybe we can bribe ‘em with a latte from down the street, babygirl we gotta find out how they like their coffee.” Derek wraps an arm around the blonde, trying to appeal to her pro-level social media snooping skills for assistance.

“He looks happy, guys, like, lovesick puppy level of happy. Maybe we just leave this alone, let them… come to us when they’re ready?” Garcia offers, sounding surprised at her own voice offering to stay out of someone’s business.

The others all seem to agree with their chirpiest team member that the only way to let Hotch continue being their happy, joking, playful boss is to make sure this person stays in his life, and the best way to do that is by letting them be. Of course, this won’t stop them all from racing towards the South window the next time Hotch leaves work on time, but he can’t exactly punish them for looking, can he?

Things continue in this fashion for a few weeks, and the team marvels each time at the amount of physical affection their boss is comfortably showing in a semi crowded carpark, bustling with agents coming on and off the clock. He’s become less and less shy about letting his arms find home around your waist each time the two of you stroll out of the building. It isn’t until your ninth date was rescheduled for the second time that the team got to see the two of you up close. Aaron’s team was working around the clock to find the source of a classified information leak in a neighboring bureau department.

You got off work, your smile falling when you saw a text from Aaron that he was probably not making it out of the office at 5, let alone before dawn the next morning. So, you set off to the chinese takeout place a street away to fetch his team some fuel. You got an assortment of mains, sides, chopsticks and cutlery, and a bag so full of drinks you thought the handles would break, sending eight cans of carbonated sugar to explode against the pavement, spraying everywhere. Luckily, you were able to double bag the contents and successfully bring it back to Quantico and up to the sixth floor.

The elevator doors opened and it was like setting foot inside a life-sized beehive, agents whizzing past you in all directions, manilla folders being passed around and stacked haphazardly on desks where phones rang and rang with no free hands to answer them.

You manage to weave your way through the hustle and bustle and into the bullpen, where you spin around, looking for any familiar face when you spot Aaron and his team in the conference room, blinds half drawn to occlude the whiteboards from sight through the glass. You knock against the door to the conference room with your knee, not having so much as one finger free to knock on the wood. Your heart is racing with the excitement in the room, though, the agents all seem to be radiating a sort of anxious feeling so potent it feels like the air is thick with TV static. The door swings open, revealing a very wrinkled Aaron standing before you. You feel the sharp, anxious twinkle of the static clearing from before your very eyes like fog meeting sunlight as Aaron looks behind you, looking left and right before he smiles at you and pulls you into the conference room, closing the door.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? Are you alright?” Aaron asks you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders and looking at you to study your face.

“I’m fine, love! I just thought you guys seem so busy, you could use some dinner.” You raise the bags in each of your hands, seeing Aaron’s frown lines fade and his dimple appear in their absence as he and his whole team smile over at you. Aaron takes the bags from your red hands, surprised to find they’re both so heavy as Morgan clears some space on the roundtable for the food. A wave of ‘thank you’s wash over the room as Dave, Penelope, JJ, Emily, Spencer, Derek and even your Aaron all show you their gratitude at the offering of fresh, hot, food on what was bound to be the longest night they’ve worked in months. Aaron pulled you into his side as the team each introduced themselves to you, shaking your hand excitedly as they all failed miserably to hide the fact that they already knew your name and exactly why you’re here.

You open all the containers of food, explaining all the options you brought and which ones are meat-free for Penelope and offer each agent a drink with a smile, feeling Aaron’s gentle hand resting on the fall of your shoulder as you hand spencer a knife and fork you got specially for him and Aaron asks you if he can get you a plate ready. The team is starstruck, both at your display of kindness and thoughtfulness for every member of his team, and at how comfortably you seem to fit right against your boss. The two of you are practically joined at the hip, each time Hotch asks you a question his hand finds your knee or your arm or your waist to brush over it and get your attention. After a full minute passes of his hands staying away from your body, you move your wheely chair closer to his, looping your hand under and around his bicep, elbow resting on the armrest of his chair as he engages with a conversation with Reid and Dave regarding how exactly the leak of this information stands to gain anything from it.

Once Aaron’s scarfed down his plate of food, his free arm lays over the back of your seat, curling around your far shoulder and rubbing there as he checks in with you if any of the information you’re hearing has upset you at all. He offers to find some place to sit alone with you if you’re uncomfortable for another ten minutes or so before he has to go back to the investigation.

Emily and Penelope are sitting at the opposite side of the table, completely in awe as they watch their boss who’s usually known to move almost like a statue, very calculated and still. If he’s undisturbed long enough he can actually often appear as if he’s not even breathing or blinking when he’s hard at work. But here, he moves so naturally with you. The two of you have a way of reassuring one another without a word that you’re there for the other and you’re okay without so much as making eye contact.

Garcia audibly gasps when you lean in to place your head on the slant of Hotch’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment as most of his team is engaged in a conversation about the possibility of a team of people being responsible for the leak when Hotch looks down at you, a smile of unbridled adoration donning his face and he cranes his neck to kiss you on the crown of your head. In front of everyone. In the middle of a meeting about an emergent situation, her boss found enough joy in his heart to smile widely and kiss you, while you’re nuzzling your own smile further into his neck. She never thought she’d see the day her compartmentalizing, dedicated to a self-destructive degree boss actually found someone that loves him so freely and so openly that he’s actually comfortable enough to do the same.

“Garcia, is everything alright?” Aaron asks, Penelope is ashamed that her audible surprise has dragged the happy couple out of their special moment as both of your eyes are blinking back at her, concerned.

“Everything is just swell, sir. Couldn’t be better, actually.” Penelope smiles, beaming with pride and eyes darting between the two of you.

“For the record, Garcia. I agree.” Hotch offers his own proud smile and a wink as his voice lowered to a whisper, half of the team not registering the interaction as Spencer was rapidly scanning seven files at once with the wave of his hand, looking for the exact time logs from the door to the evidence storage facility on the nights in question.

From that one fateful evening onwards, you became a staple attendee at any and all BAU family functions. The team had loved you from the moment they met you, for you had changed their stoic, slave-to-his-desk boss forever. You had changed him slowly and so kindly that he had seen it happening all around him and still didn’t care to question it.

The whole team, even the young doctor Reid noticed the difference between Aaron and his past partners compared to you. How when you entered the room, Aaron’s hands would start to seek you, and you’d find him, letting him hold onto you. You knew his past experiences had made him paranoid of losing those he loves, and you don’t mind one bit proving to him that you’re still there. They all noticed how whenever you or Aaron laugh at something the group said, your eyes find each other to see the other smiling, feeling free. They all grew to love seeing the two of you moving in the same spaces, your bodies never falling out of step or losing their harmony. No matter how stressful Hotch’s work gets, you can always find a way to soothe his stresses away, with a hand kneading at his shoulders or a gentle thumb grazing against his cheekbone, your hold cradling his face. You made Aaron feel okay with looking possessive, or small and delicate, or just looking like a man in love. You showed him it’s okay to need reassurances and that he’ll never have to be the only one offering them again.

You’ve shown him a love that burns so brightly he doesn’t mind loving you publicly or in private, loudly or whispered in a longing ear. Aaron Hotchner loves you freely, without restraint. He loves you on your quiet mornings just as he loves you from behind a karaoke mic at a crowded bar. His love for you grew too fast and too beautiful for him to contain it anymore. He will tell you he loves you in every language he can. Because from the first time the two of you made contact, like flint on steel, there’s been a spark. He’s glad you were brave enough to reach out and take hold of it, the two of you keeping it safe, because now the heat from that flame keeps you both warm even on the coldest nights.

tagging: @montyfandomlove , @pastanoodles11 , @ssamorganhotchner, @hotchnerbau , @hotchs-babygirl , @ssa-tahlia-obsessions , @p0ssywhippedcream , @14buddy22 , @elenamoncada-ibarra , @supercriminalbean , @ssaspencerreidswife , @levithestripper , @beehive16,

#rome's writing #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot\#aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x gn!reader #hotch x gender neutral reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x you

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months

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One-Shots

Gojo Satoru

You Are In Love - "you're my best friend," and you knew what it was

...Ready For It? - knew he was a killer first time that I saw him

Hits Different - it hits different 'cause it's you (or, struggling in a situationship with gojo satoru)

Never Grow Up - meeting megumi for the first time

The Archer - all of my enemies started out friends, can he hold on to you?

invisible string - the first time megumi uses ten shadows

even in my worst times, you see the best in me - being the strongest has its downsides, but at least you're suffering with him

life's no fun without a good scare - you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow) - satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.

every dead end street led you straight to me - former fuckboy gojo has some things to say at the top of a mountain

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this! - coworkers to lovers with a healthy amount of teenage eavesdropping

Geto Suguru

The Great War - somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Back to December - you gave him all your love and all he gave you was goodbye

say you'll remember me - you were destined to fail from the start, so why does it hurt so badly when he's gone?

dazzling haze, mysterious way about you, dear - need some fluff after reading all the angst above?

tell me that you love me, love me 'til my lips turn blue - being partnered with suguru on a mission takes an unexpected turn

what if all i need is you? - after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.

Blurbs/Drabbles

the stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours - holding satoru and letting him rest, even if it's only for a little bit

it took so long to know someone like you - he doesn't know who he is with you and it scares both of you

bad days and blanket burritos - good ol' satoru bf fluff

Imagines/HCs

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

how gojo and geto react to their partner being obsessed with them (fluffy !!!)

Gojo Satoru

What, like it's hard? -> law student!gojo

general hcs

when he buys a motorcycle

I'm with the band -> rockstar!gojo

rockstar!gojo meet sexyy

the valentine's day show

quiet moments and teaching you guitar

Falling for you, on and off the ice -> hockey player!gojo

someone steals your usual rink slot

watching a game

living in winter, i am your summer - he's terrible at figure skating

Kachow -> professional racer!gojo

on the radio

smoke his ass! - pro racer!gojo needs some motivation after a newcomer to the track pisses him off

Geto Suguru

oops? - satoru finds out that you've been seeing his best friend

a quiet moment in the aquarium

napping with you :)

scare actor!suguru

Save a horse, ride a cowboy -> gunslinger!suguru

gunslinger!geto au

Theta Phi Fuckhead -> enemy frat!suguru

ancient grudge, new mutiny

move fast, keep quiet

half the things that haven't happened yet

Series Masterlists

End Game (volleyball captain!gojo x you) COMPLETED

Co-Parenting Megumi with Satoru COMPLETED

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (gojo x you during shibuya) COMPLETED

#irisintheafterglow masterlist

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uncharismatic-fauna · 1 month

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Let's Hear it for the Humphead Wrasse

The humphead wrasse, Cheilinus undulatus, is also known as the Māori wrasse, Napoleon wrasse, or the blue- tooth grouper. They can usually be found around coral reefs and steep rocky cliffs in the Indo-Pacific, particularly on the east coast of Africa, the west coast of India, and the tropical waters of southeast Asia and the Great Barrier Reef.

The Māori wrasse gets its name from the distinctive markings that adults carry. Males are blue-green or purple, while females are more often red or orange. Both have unique patterns of lines and dots covering their heads, and stripes running down the rest of their body; early researchers compared the patterns on their heads to the tattoos traditionally used by the Māori people. In addition to its striking coloration, C. undulatus is also known for being the largest member of the wrasse family. Males can reach up to 2 m (6.5 ft) long and weigh up to 180 kg (396 lbs), while females tend to be smaller. Males also have a large 'hump' on their foreheads, hence the name humphead wrasse.

Another feature of note in C. undulatus is the set of large teeth fused into a parrot-like beak. They use this beak to predate upon hard-shelled animals like mollusks, urchins, sea stars, and crustaceans. On occasion, they also feed on smaller fish and moray eels. Due to their size, adults have very few natural predators aside from sharks, but larvae and small juveniles are more often opportunistically hunted by other fish.

Like many coral reef fish, the humphead wrasse is a protogynous hermaphrodite. This means that most individuals begin life as a female, and become male later in life-- known as 'super males', they are larger than males who did not transition. Individuals first become sexually mature at 5-7 years old, and females begin transitioning to male at 9-12 years old. Spawning occurs a few times a year, and during this period over a hundred adults can congregate in an area. The female releases about 20 eggs into the water column, where they are fertilized by her chosen partner. Three to four weeks later, the eggs hatch and the larvae migrate to the nearby reef.

Conservation status: C. undulatus is considered Endangered by the IUCN. Populations have declined due to overfishing and by-catch mortalities, loss of their food sources, habitat destruction, and capture of juveniles for the aquarium trade.

If you send me proof that you’ve made a donation to UNRWA or another organization benefiting Palestinians– including esim donations– I’ll make art of any animal of your choosing.

Photos

Andrew J. Green

Lluís Masuet

George Ryschkewitsch

#humphead wrasse #Labriformes #Labridae #wrasses #ray-finned fish #bony fish #fish #marine fauna #marine fish #coral reefs #coral reef fish #indian ocean #Pacific Ocean #indo-pacific #animal facts #biology #zoology #ecology

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sophieinwonderland · 2 months

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Hiveminds and Multiplicity

When thinking about Hiveminds, I realized that hivemind connection is a spectrum, with many plural or plural-like experiences across it.

At the same time, both the beginning and end of this spectrum are singlet experiences. I decided to represent this with my own horseshoe theory.

Unconnected Individuals

This is pretty self-explanatory. These are totally separate individuals with their totally separate bodies. These are not even the slightest bit plural. Or, at least, not for any hivemind related reasons.

Mind-Linked

Now we drift into plural territory.

At this point, the individuals have some sort of mental link to each other. Mind links can range in levels of complexity.

At a low level, this may mean feeling each other's emotions or sensing when something really bad happens with no words or other communication. The most basic form of this might be "twintuition" in shows, where twins can magically sense when something happens to another no matter where they are.

At high levels, this can come with full verbal communication and other hallucinatory experiences.

Mind-linked systems often have strong barriers between them, only being able to transfer limited information, and maybe only in specific circumstances.

But the mind-linked are having plural experiences. They have someone else feeling their emotions, hearing their thoughts. It's very similar to sharing your mind with headmates. As this connection grows, they may end up becoming...

The Multiple Hivemind

At the top most point of the horseshoe, all mental barriers have been torn down.

They're still multiple people. They still have their own individual identities. But the link has become so great that they can read each other's thoughts whenever they want. They can share memories and skills freely between them, being both multiple and completely connected at the same time.

The Median Hivemind

Having achieved perfect connection, identity starts to erode. The median hivemind starts becoming its own collective identity.

Individuals in the median hivemind still retain agency and sense of self, but are also blending together more now and feel less like separate people.

The True Hivemind

At this point, there is no distinction between identity of the members. The hivemind is now one singlet spread across multiple bodies. A contrast and opposite to traditional plurality, which is multiple agents in one body.

...

We Can Get Weird With This...

Okay, that's a basic overview of how hiveminds work and evolve with singlets. But... what if some members of the hivemind aren't singlets?

Now things are going to get weird because hiveminds and mental links enable a lot of peculiar things that wouldn't be possible otherwise.

What if an old headmate goes dormant for years. In that time, the system becomes linked to a hivemind and specifically become either a median or true hivemind where they all identify as the same thing? What if that headmate comes back to find everyone else in the system is part of this hivemind with their identities melded into it, but the new headmate is still separate?

Or what if a multiple hivemind enabled headmates originating in the same body to front in multiple bodies at once, essentially allowing system hopping as a thing in those specific circumstances? What one of the members of an in-sys relationship used someone else's body (consensually) to be with their partner?

Or what if, for whatever reason, only one member of the system had the connection to the hivemind while the rest didn't?

Or... imagine that there are two systems with a strong mental link. They become a multiple hivemind with headmates able to speak freely to each other and even share an inner world. Then two headmates, one from each system, interact more and end up fusing. What does this mean? Which body is theirs? What happens if the link is severed?

Or in the same vein, what if a hivemind starts out as existing between 5 singlets? They become connected and end up being a multiple hivemind, and share an inner world. What if the hivemind created a tulpa together in this inner world, and none of the members are sure whose tulpa it actually counts as?

...

Anyway, if there's any takeaway from this, it should be that plurality is weird. Hiveminds are weird. And put them together and you get a weird sandwich. 😁

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green-enby · 9 months

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Heyo! Have you watched Koisenu Futari (恋せぬふたり, Two people who can't fall in love) yet? It's a great series, just 8 episodes long! I binged it in one day :) [smiley]

It focuses on two aromantic asexual people living together. This is a little appreciation post, containing some thoughts that it evoked in me as an aroace.

If you don't want spoilers, please don't read!

It's so relatable how Sakuko keeps blaming herself all throughout the show… Insecurity stemming from societal expectations that dictate romance is for everyone, and that people who don't date are somehow "failing" in life; I think this affects allos as well.

When I broke off my romantic relationship, I too felt like it had been my fault, for not having been a good enough partner, for not being able to love them in the same way they loved me.

To finally learn that you are not "defective", that there's other people like you…! I love how the two MCs don't grieve their lack of attraction; Sakuko is perfectly happy discovering she's aroace. She and Takahashi are living their "best life" together.

Sure, many aroaces do wish they were allo, and that needs to be represented too, but this series to me really shined a light over why they want that: it's because amatonormativity is rampant in the world, not because lacking attraction is inherently sad. The main conflicts in the series stem from the clash between allo society and the aroace experience, after all. I think that's neat! It gave me a good dose of aroace joy—while still showing the hurts that come with it, realistically—and I really needed it.

I didn't expect her to come out to her family so soon, but whoa, that was intense. Her mother's negative reaction is what all people who exclude a-spec people from the LGBTQIA+ community should see, to understand that we face the same issues they do.

I haven't come out to my parents as aroace yet, and watching this made me realize how awful it actually feels to be in the closet. I somehow hadn't realized I am. I've always felt safe coming out to them as other things, as bisexual back in the day, and as trans non-binary.

It might be because my confidence disappeared when they reacted badly both times, but this coming out feels almost impossible.

Comparing it to coming out as bi, it's really not that different: if you're bi, you're promiscuous and date too many people; if you're aroace, you're a prude and cold-hearted. If you break away from the status quo, you're wrong either way.

But at least, most people do eventually understand the bi experience, if they understand same-gender attraction, and fuse it with straightness, even though it's a flawed method.

With aros and aces, instead, it's such an alien concept for an allo, which makes it way harder to come out and have to explain to them how to deconstruct allo-amatonormativity. It's exhausting. Thankfully, there's people like Kazu who are actually willing to learn about us. That gives me hope.

I feel like it's super eye-opening to find out the concept of romance didn't even exist in the past. Pretty sure that in Europe, it originated during the Middle Ages from the ideal of chivalry. So it's really just a social construct, and opting out of it shouldn't be so controversial!

It's just a set of pointless, annoying rules like having to kiss eachother, having to say "I love you", and doing it all a set amount of times, otherwise it's not good enough. What if we don't want to? What if it doesn't come natural to us? If it's just a social construct, fuck it, I'm not adhering to that! We do whatever makes us happy!

Even in the series itself, Sakuko too goes through a heartbreak, even if it's not the romantic kind: she valued her friendship and future cohabitation with Chizuru above all else, but Chizuru abandoned her, because of romantic love. It's not true that aroaces have it easy.

Like our MC, we have to deal with fear that we'll come off flirty when we're just being friendly, confusion over concepts that we feel we should understand, shame over the fact that we're different, fear of loneliness, frustration and pain that we'll always come second to our friends' romantic partners, or even trauma from a relationship or sexual encounter that we didn't really want. I could go on and on.

These last scenes really got to me. Especially the second one… I admit that I cried, when she had to turn her down, and it seemed like her aromanticism had ruined their relationship. It hurts that the way I am could seriously harm someone I care about. It hurts that most people work differently and that they can't help it, and that we can't help it either. I don't like being put in that position, to cause someone a heartbreak. I have with my ex, and had to watch them spiral down… It was horrible.

Still, I wouldn't change my orientation for the world. I'm confident in my identity, I love being aroace.

In the end, we can all reach our full potential, reach a point where we feel fulfilled and that we're living our best life, find ourselves a family if it's what we want, have our dream job and house. Being aroace doesn't condemn us to a life of unhappiness. That's what this series left me with by the end; it gave me so much hope for my future.

(I'm aware I'm coming off as a bit toxically positive here haha, sorry if I'm striking a bad chord; I'm just in a really good period right now, and riding this wave for as long as I can! Hopefully I can rub it off someone else as well.)

That said, I really loved this j-drama, it was funny and relatable and emotional, I wished it had lasted longer! It seems like the author isn't even aroace herself, so I'm amazed at how good the representation was! So much thought and research has gone into it, and it shows; the result is amazing.

Thanks for reading my scattered thoughts about this! 🧡💛🤍🩵💙

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theonevoice · 5 months

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Maggie's spelling mistake

Ok, I've just had a wild thought about this moment, that led many people to theorise that Maggie could be a demon in disguise, given that 1) everything is intentional in this show, so the accent on the "ugrency" detail cannot be meaningless, and 2) demons are repeatedly characterised, of all things, as being bad at spelling.

To be honest, I cannot bring myself to believe the "Maggie is a demon" theory, but I agree that the emphasis on her spelling mistake is weird and it very much looks like a hint.

And now I think I finally have a hypothesis that I like (not because it's plausible but because I find it funny) about what it could be hinting at.

Let me list a couple of premises first:

- we know that when Aziraphale and Crowley "do a miracle together" it ends up "working a little too well"

- we have evidence of animals brought back from death (the dove) and of people brought back from Hell (Mr Brown)

- we have the Nina Sosanya and Maggie Service recasting choice, that I was obviously very happy with but never really understood

So, when in s1 Aziraphale and Crowley meet Mary Hodges, former Sister Mary Loquacious, we see Crowley initiating the hypnosis miracle and Aziraphale "stepping in" and ending it.

He is not just reversing it, he is working within the perimeter of the "miraculous window" opened by Crowley and weaving in an instruction before closing it:

So here's the wild part: what if, upon meeting Crowley after eleven years, Mary Hodges, now successful business owner, was taken back to that fatal night of the Antichrist and her dream of "whatever you like best" got mixed with shreds of memories? What if the satanic order who clearly didn't appreciate her turned into an abusive partner who "never really liked her"? What if the assignment to go fetch some bisquits from the refectory turned into the idea of having a nice little coffeeshop full of sweets and cakes? What if the contact with "His Royal Excellency the American ambassador" caused said coffeeshop to be right in front of a certain bookshop that happens to be an Embassy to Heaven? What if Sister Theresa Garrulous, the only person who that night had showed Mary some validation (although only for a happy miscommunication incident), turned into a neighbour shopkeeper with a strong bond to her mother superior great-grandmother, who keeps coming back to her coffeeshop, over and over, to grab the superfluous child a cup of coffee and have a little friendly chat?

The unknown and unforeseen power of a miracle performed by both Aziraphale and Crowley, although not intentionally and only as a result of a partial overlap of miraculous actions, could have make Mary's dream actually and literally come true. So we are not seeing a funny casting choice, but two actual characters from s1 transformed by the accidental interference of an overflowing miracle and Mary's confused memory-dream cocktail.

But if Maggie was indeed Sister Theresa...

...that would mean that the miracle did not just magically get Mary/Nina a coffeeshop in Soho, it also brought back Theresa/Maggie from Hell. So her "ugrency" spelling mistake could be there not as a sign that she is a demon herself, but as the trace of a sort of demonic contamination, a bad-grammar-contagion either from her time as a satanic nun or from her eleven years in Hell after Hastur killed her.

And if this was the case, wouldn't it be convenient that the only person who can corroborate her family history is none other than Mr Fell, the one unknowingly involved in her comeback, possibly not even knowing himself that there never was any great-grandmother selling records in the corner of his bookshop in the Twenties?

So this:

this could literally be Mary's dream come true, where miss Hodges' entrepreneurial side was fused with scraps of Sister Mary's memories from the night of the Antichrist.

Of course, this could be just Neil Gaiman jokingly referring to Maggies Service's previous role as a satanic nun with demonic acquaintances, but where's the fun in choosing that interpretation when we can run wild with outrageous theories like this?

Also, I like to imagine Mr Brown inexplicably starting to make spelling mistakes all over his impeccable tax returns after his trip to Hell...

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens speculation #good omens thoughts #good omens theory #good omens maggie

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hisui-dreamer · 8 months

Note

Congrats on 1K, Rinna! It's such a big number :O

Actually is it okay if I request an AU of my own?! It's called PHD AU (I'm so smart 😔) bc @/rakiah put the idea of Ancient Magic PHD student Leona, and since I'm planning on pursuing a PHD myself it'd be pretty interesting bc I'm planning to pursuing archeology so like- similar fields but also not so rivals-to-lovers speedrun during a research project idk 😳 anything short works! I just needed someone to scream about this too 💀💀

pull your weight

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

Synopsis: he was the one person you never wanted to work with, but life never goes the way you plan

Tags: banter, forced collaboration, academic rivalry, teasing, slowish burn(?)

Word count: 1k+

Notes: im like 2 months late wth sorry soru (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠), i hope you'll enjoy this haha

Masterlist

He was the last person you wanted to work with.

All you needed was a solid grade on your final project for you to finally say goodbye to all your years of studying. But fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humour, for your academic fate was intertwined with his in a dreaded group assignment.

The universe revelled in its own sadistic humour as it matched you with none other than the very figure you had observed, with a mix of bemusement and irritation, in the library on countless occasions. A man seemingly fused with the furniture itself, always deep in sleep even as you worked tirelessly away.

You drew in a deep breath, readying for the challenge of a less-than-motivated teammate as you approached his seat with determined steps.

In truth, he was a striking man, or beastman, more accurately. His untamed, lengthy brown mane matches the intensity of his emerald gaze, creating an impression akin to a masterpiece fashioned by Pygmalion himself. But aesthetics aside, you couldn't just stare at him; you had an actual task to complete together.

"Kingscholar, right?" you asked, reaching out your hand as a gesture of goodwill.

His gaze shifted from a distant point to meet your outstretched hand. A brief pause hung in the air, during which you're uncertain if he would even acknowledge your gesture. Then, almost begrudgingly, he raised his hand and shook yours with a firm grip.

"Yeah, that's me," he responded, his tone carrying a touch of irritation. "Whadaya want?"

You felt your eye twitch in annoyance, yet you maintained your smile. "I'm your assigned partner for the research project."

"Tch... what a pain," you overheard him grumbling, his hand absentmindedly brushing back his unruly hair. "Fine, but you better pull your own weight, herbivore." A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Of course," you replied with an unaffected tone, though any warmth in your voice had long dissipated. "I assure you, I'm here to contribute. And I expect you to do the same."

A charged tension lingered in the air, a blend of rivalry and cooperation intertwining like threads in a complex tapestry.

With an abrupt turn, he shifted his gaze away from you. "Let's just get this over with. Meet at the library Thursday at 3 o'clock," he grumbled impatiently. "And stop calling me Kingscholar," he added as he began to stride away.

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden shift in demeanour. "Okay," you murmured, your voice softening, "... Leona," you hesitantly pronounced his name, testing it on your lips. But by then, he had already disappeared into the distance.

"Leona..." you groaned, the tip of your pen repeatedly poking his arm "Wake up..." though it seemed none of your efforts could stir this man from the land of dreams.

Hours had passed in focused collaboration. Each of you brought your strengths to the table, your efforts converging into a symphony of intellect and expertise. Leona, though rude and demanding, was surprisingly knowledgeable, and hidden behind his sharp words laid great advice and ideas for the project. Despite the initial friction, a sort of rhythm began to form, a silent understanding of when to speak and when to listen.

You heaved out a sigh, fatigue settling in after an afternoon of relentless work, not to mention the late-night study session you had to 'pull your weight' as he demanded. You had continued working for quite a bit even after he fell asleep, the passage of time fading as the sun sank below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room where your joint project lay spread out before you.

'Alright,' you conceded to yourself. 'A short break won't hurt.'

Your gaze rested on his peaceful slumber, his lengthy eyelashes casting ethereal, feather-light shadows upon his features. In response, a subtle smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"You really are just a big, grumpy cat, huh?" you murmured to yourself.

As the sun's last rays painted the room in hues of warmth, fatigue finally caught up with you. The chair beneath you seemed to cradle your weariness, its embrace inviting and soothing. Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite your intention to take a short break, the weight of the day pulled you under.

"Hey," a gentle voice penetrates your drowsy state. "Wake up."

You groggily pry your eyes open, squinting against the ambient light of the library. The world swims into focus, shades of muted gold and soft shadows dancing before you.

"Leona…?" you mumble. "What time is it?"

"Half past ten. The library is closin' soon."

Your groggy mind stirs to life, realization piercing through the haze like a ray of sunlight breaking through morning mist. "Half past… ten?! Oh no, the project!"

With a hushed urgency, he places his palm over your mouth, muffling your alarm. His face looms close, his breath brushing against your skin in gentle wisps. "Shhh, you're still in a library, herbivore," he cautions, his words painted with a touch of amusement. "The project is halfway done."

A moment of bewildered disbelief freezes your thoughts in mid-air. "Wait… Huh? Did you—"

"I said hush," his voice is a silken thread of command, pausing your entire line of questioning. A playful glint dances in his eyes. "If I were you, I'd be more worried about the drool on your face."

Your hand shoots up to your face like a reflex, your fingers searching for the phantom traces of embarrassment, only to find nothing but your own flushed cheeks.

"Hahaha, that woke ya up, didn't it?" he chuckles.

You're left momentarily bewildered, a mix of relief and embarrassment coursing through you. As your senses fully awaken, you sit up, your grogginess slowly dissipating as you reclaim your wits.

"You know," he begins, his voice still hushed, "you're not entirely useless," he conceded, his tone a mixture of grudging approval and a touch of surprise.

You blink at his words, processing for a few seconds before realising he was referring to your work on the project. Your initial embarrassment gives way to a rekindling of your competitive spirit, and you respond with a half-smile that mirrors his own. "Likewise, I suppose. Turns out, this 'herbivore' can hold their own."

The smirk that plays at the corner of his lips was no longer purely condescending. "Don't get too comfortable. This doesn't mean I'm going easy on you."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Leona" you shot back.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#✧1k! another life✦#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland leona #disney twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingsholar

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blossom-works · 9 months

Text

Opposites Attract

A/N: I have no knowledge about technology & engineering so don’t come at me internet...😐

Who would have thought that Ego Jinpachi’s cousin is the secret lover of the world’s best striker, Noel Noa? Certainly not Chris Prince. Or anyone in the Blue Lock as a matter of fact. And the cherry on top is that you, Noel’s fiancé and Ego’s cousin, are responsible for building this state-of-the-art facility. You are a tech geek and was able to geek out at the request of your cousin. Since Blue Lock began, you have been behind the scenes to make sure everything is running smoothly. No one but your cousin, Anri, and the money grubbing fucks of the JFU knew about you. Now, a large group of footballers know about you since someone decided to mess with your technology.

“Honestly! How did you manage to pull out multiple fuses! And how did you get into the control center?!”

Chris Prince scratches the back of his head in semi-shame. “I got curious and wanted to know what does what.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here!”

In frustration, you try to reconnect the different fuses to the appropriate ports, but it seems that when Chris pulled them out, he damaged the chords attached to them. How that is possible, you do not know. Your phone starts buzzing from the back pocket of your pants. Answering, you hear your cousin, Ego, on the other side. Demanding to know what you did wrong.

“I didn’t do anything, dipshit! - One of your genius masters decided it would be a good idea to pull out multiple fuses. - Chris Prince. - I don’t know how he managed to do that! - Well he isn’t that smart if he pulled them out because he was just curious. - The fuses he pulled out powered Blue Lock Man and other training material. - Yes, that means advanced training will be out of the question. - Maybe two days? Three max. - That’s your job to figure out! - Oh shut up and stop complaining, dumbass.” You hang up the call with a huff and gather the broken fuses to properly dispose of them. When you turn around, you are surprised and annoyed that the Englishman is still standing there.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Uhh...are you single?”

His question catches you off guard which makes you drop one of your poor babies. Dumbfounded, you ask the striker to clarify.

“Are you taken?”

Now, you are a bit more ticked off than you already were. You put the fuses to the side, and place your fists on your hips. “Let me get this straight, you come into my command center and play with creations because self-control is obviously nowhere in your vocabulary. All of which forces me to rearrange my already busy schedule, and you have the audacity to hit on me? Did I miss anything number two?”

Chris looks at you for a few seconds before he proudly responds “Nope!” with a flashy smile.

Exasperated, you point to the automatic door (which you will have to rethink). “I’m already engaged. Now get out.”

Instead of obeying like a good boy, Chris tries to use his charms on you.

“C’mon, I bet your fiancé isn’t that great. Compared to me at least.” He winks.

“I would have to say otherwise. Compared to you, he is great.” And before Prince can say anything else, you push him out the door and lock it before anyone else can bother you. Once in peace, you make a couple of calls to order more fuses and to hire a team to help you further develop Blue Lock’s technology. Engrossed in your work, you do not hear someone knocking on your door. It takes one loud knock to bring you back to reality. Jumping out of your chair you unlock the metal door.

“Ego m'a dit que l'entraînement ne serait pas possible dans les prochains jours.“ Noel asks. He has on his usual tracksuit and has a cup of freshly made coffee in his hand. Ego told me that training would not be possible in the next few days.

Since basically everyone got a translating earpiece, you chose to answer him in your native tongue. When the Neo-Egoist Phase began, you partnered with the Mikage Corporation to advance their earpiece. While the device cannot translate all languages, it can translate a good handful when preprogrammed. Though, you are not sold on the idea of talking to intergalactic beings.

“Basically. The world’s second best striker and the world’s first dumbass messed with my technology. All of which powered the Blue Lock Man and amongst other things. You guys can still train the o’fashion way and the kids can still workout, but advanced training is off the table.”

“I see. How long until the system is up and running?”

“Three days max.”

Noel nods and hands you the cup of hot caffeine. You take the Blue Lock mug and silently thank him. You take one sip and plant the mug on a surface away from the monitors. Like he expected it, Noel catches you when you quickly jump on top of him and nuzzle your nose against his cheek.

“But I missed you! I haven’t seen you since you first got to Blue Lock!” You complain like a child.

“You saw me this morning, and the mornings before.”

“So! We haven’t spent any time together though.” You move your face slightly away from Noel’s so he can see your puppy dog eyes and pout. The Frenchman sighs like he is tired of your antics, but you know better. If he was truly tired of your childishness, he would have put you down but Noel has yet to do that. Instead, Noel keeps his hands under your thighs to hold you up. A small sign of his that lets you know he misses you too. Childish antics and all.

“You can’t just leave your fiancé hanging around like this! Having me wait around to get some well-deserved attention is just cruel!”

Noel says nothing as you hop off him and drag him to sit in your chair so you can sit on his lap. Sticking to your silly behavior, you pepper Noel’s face with kisses like the lovesick woman you are. You take his face in your hands and plant a big kiss on his sightly chapped lips. Immediately the Frenchman reciprocates the kiss. Another way he silently admits that he misses you too. Happy that you are getting the attention you have been craving, you pull back a bit to see the thin strand of saliva break. Letting out happy squeals, you nuzzle your face against Noel’s while wiggling your body like an excited puppy. The striker lets you have your fill of him (not like that you rotten minds) before he goes back to the Germany part of the building.

Of course, he does not leave the control center without paying a kiss(es) fee. Noel leaves planning a new training schedule and you stay in your little nook happy as a schoolgirl who got the number of her longtime crush. Honestly, it never ceases to amaze you how a cyborg like Noel Noa lets you get away with acting like a child. Looks like being his significant other has its perks.

Three Days Later:

Clapping yours hands, you quadruple check your handy-work. (No) Thanks to Chris Prince, you had to install the fuses inside their own boxes so no one can take them out again. You also installed a lock to the control center. People can only enter when they have the passcode. Updates have also been installed into Blue Lock tech so the club masters can get more creative with training. Now all you have to do is make sure that each club is running smoothly with the new installments. One by one go through each building for thorough check-ups, and secretly cheering on the Blue Lockers. Since you saved the best for last, you skidded on your way to Germany’s Bastard Munchens.

But, all good things must come to an end.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Ms. Tech.”

“Dear god, what do you want Prince?”

“I want to know who your loser of a fiancé is.”

Feeling a little smug, you decide it is best to give the Englishman what he wants.

“If it’ll get you to leave me alone, then so be it. I’m on my way to meet him anyway.”

For some reason, pride makes Chris puff out his chest like Superman as he follows behind you. He is even walking like he is some sort of a hero. How amusing. With the tablet in your hands, you go through the new data it has been collecting. Since Ego is the man in charge here, you need to compile a report of the new tech you installed, and the cost. If it was still the first phase of Blue Lock, the amount of money used to create the program would be equivalent to how much debt the United States is (that is a bit exaggerated but you get the picture). Now that you guys have sponsors and BL TV, money is streaming in like cryptocurrency.

“Hey, isn’t this the way to-”

“Noel!”

Said man turns around only to be tackled by a woman half his size. Thank goodness for his physicality or else you both would have fallen onto the ground. Like you always do, you nuzzle the side of his face with your nose.

“What are you doing here? We’re in the middle of practice.”

“Oh, I came to check on how the new update is fairing. Just following routine to make sure things are going smoothly.” You say as you get off the man. The commotion gets the players’ attention. Too busy showing Noel what is on the tablet, you do not realize that Noel give his players a glare. Telling them to get back to training like their lives depend on it.

“Prince? What are you doing here?”

“So, I’m finally acknowledged by the great Noel Noa.” Chris sarcastically says. “If you must know, this little lady is taking me to meet her third-grade fiancé. But I guess she’s going to finish her work beforehand. Now hurry up so she can see how much better I am than whoever she’s engaged to.”

The albino raises a brow before uncharacteristically scoffing and goes back to ignoring the world’s second best striker.

“What? You know, you think you’re all high and mighty but you’re not.” The petty Prince states. He only aggravates himself further as he starts a one sided argument with Noel. Meanwhile, you busy yourself with examining how the players are using the new and updated tech.

“Excuse me, but who are you?”

“Ah, Yoichi Isagi. I’m just here to make sure that everything is running smoothly so I can give a report to Ego. Don’t worry, I won’t get in your team’s way.” Before you can explain more, you notice a small tweak in the Blue Lock Man which prompts you to halt practice. You got a few hisses and groans but ignored them all. Out of thin air, you take out a couple of screws, a small hard drive, and a screwdriver.

Taking a panel off the wall, you plug in the hard drive and start typing away on your tablet. One of the players tries to ask you what you are doing and how long you plan on being here, to which you just hold up a finger, telling the player to wait. A couple more clicks and you are happy with your work. Pulling the hard drive out and putting the panel back on the wall, you tell Bastard Munchen “Alrighty! There shouldn’t be anymore issues for you guys.”

“But...there wasn’t any problem to begin with...”

“Ah ah.” You wave your finger in a “no-no” motion. “It was only for a split second but the Blue Lock Man you were using had a glitch to it. It wasn’t noticeable to the untrained eyes, but since my more than qualified eyes caught it, I had to fix it right away. If I left the Blue Lock Man as he was, then future problems with it would arise. Prohibiting further training.”

Most of the team looks at you in awe at your explanation (mainly the Blue Lockers).

“Woah! Are you some tech guru?”

“Have you been working here this entire time?”

“How old are you?”

More and more questions are being bombarded towards you. Smiling at their curiosity, you answer some of their questions. You bow to them in a formal greeting.

“I’m an employee here at Blue Lock. I’ve been working here since the very beginning. In fact, I’m the person who created and designed this entire facility. From the infrastructure to the technology, that was all me.”

Like Gru’s minion, they all let out a “Woah”. You should have known that your introduction would only lead to more questions. Thankfully, Kaiser comes to your rescue. Albeit, rudely.

“Hurry up and get into formation. There’s no need for a maintenance worker to overstay their welcome. Now leave. You’re becoming a pest.”

A little ticked by the boy’s attitude, you put on a polite smile. “I thinks that’s best too. Afterall, the main actor needs to keep practicing or else he’ll always have to rely on his co-stars to make up for his shortcomings.” Your patronizing tone and pleasant smile pisses Kaiser off and before he can say anything more, you walk away, bumping the teen with your shoulder on “accident”. You spot your fiancé antagonizing the Frenchman with his dry humor.

“I’m done with my inspection!” You cry out as you jump on Noel’s back to perform your ritual of nuzzling. “I wish I could stay longer but Ego would have my head if I’m late with my report.”

“I thought you were on your way to see your fiancé. Wait a minute, did you just make up a lie cause you’re too shy to go on a date with me?” Chris asks while raising both his blonde brows.

Still on Noel, you blink confused for a quick second. “Oh, I wasn’t lying. If I’m being 100 percent honest, you’ve already met my fiancé but didn’t know it’s him. You still haven’t found out who he is even though I’ve made it clear about three times now. And this ring doesn’t lie.”

Three.

Two.

One.

Now that Prince has caught on to your behavior he blurts out incoherent sentences, pointing at you and Noel. Happy with how things are turning out, you get off Noel’s back and pull him down so you can kiss his cheek.

“I’ll see ya, cher!” and you are off to Ego’s cave of egoism. All the while leaving behind a stuttering Chris Prince, a shocked Bastard Munchen (who have been watching the whole thing play out), and an unbothered Noel Noa. Dear.

When you pop into Ego’s cave, you give him all of the data you have collected and what he and the masters should be looking out for.

“Alright. You can leave now.”

“Awe! Don’t be like that cuz! I did all this work and rearranged my schedule for the next two weeks. You should at least thank me.” You pout.

“You’re getting paid are you not?”

“But that’s not the same ~ C’mon! Give your little cousin a hug! You haven’t even congratulated me on my engagement to Noel!” You open your arms out and slowly get closer to Ego. You are determined to get your hug from him whether he likes it or not.

“Another step and I’ll fire you.” Ego warns. Seriously, how the fuck are you two related. He swears that you are adopted cause there is no way in hell.

“Oh, shut up and hug me you bastard!” And that is how you and Ego end up running around in the room like small children. An older brother who is trying to get away from his annoying and unwanted younger sister. A younger sister purposefully annoying her straightedged, older brother. A perfect duo if you say so. In the midst of your chase, one of you accidentally presses the button for the intercom that connects to the entire building, prompting everyone in it to listen to your pleas and Ego’s cursing.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Ego and that chick are related!”

“Are they okay?”

Are some of the few questions the players have until they hear, “Aren’t you excited to have Noel as an in-law?”

Noel swears on his entire career that the whole building shakes when everyone yells, “What?!”

A/N: How’d ya like my Noel Noa story? I wrote for him cause there’s not a lot fanfiction of him. For my readers who have been patiently waiting for another Kylian Mbappe story, I haven’t forgotten about you! I can’t say when the update will be, but I hope it’ll be before September ends. I know it is a long wait but the story I’m working on is longer than I anticipated.

#noel noa #blue lock #x reader #fanfiction #noel noa x reader #bllk #blue lock x reader #been binging the manga recently #blue lock may be one of my favorites so far

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