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oepionie · 1 year

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—VOICELINES ABOUT YOU. various

Synopsis: Yuuken interrogates some of the boys on the campus about their special someone. Hearing their loving ramblings on you was certainly not what he expected.

Tags: Self-Indulgent, Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard, Reader is not Yuu, Tweels are a bit...too mad in love, I brainrotted so hard, You're Malleus' fiancee, Malleus doesn't know how to tell a joke someone help him

Cw. Riddle's Mother, Overworking, Hospitalizations, Poor living conditions, Illness, Bullying, Allusions to violence, Marriage, Tad bit of possesive behavior, Description of stabbing

WordCount: 2k+ | 💌Masterlist

R.R | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

About: Riddle's Rose

"Rose? I see you've met that troublesome intern at the library. That's a nickname. Their name is (Y/N) and yes, they are my partner." "A-Ah? I'm so direct? Well, you asked me a question! Though...I would prefer that this discussion end here. I prefer to keep my relationship with them private.”

Chat: Childhood Memories

“Ever since we were young, (Y/N) was quite rebellious. The complete opposite of me as a child, really. They were always sneaking off during the night and coming over to visit me. Mother...didn't approve of them and often screamed in their face. I was quite terrified she would scare them away, though that didn't stop them at all. Haha, I think they got even more persistent afterwards. I am truly glad I met them.”

Personal Story: To the Hospital

“Again...? I see. Thank you, Trey. Hmph, I'll have to schedule another visit once more."

> "Riddle? What's wrong?"

"Ah, Yuuken—It's Rose. They've gotten admitted to the hospital...again. (Y/N) is quite impulsive and tends to bite off more than they can chew. On more than occasion, like now, I would find out about their hospital admissions via Trey days or even weeks after."

>"Aren't you dating? Why aren't they telling you?"

"They claim that they withhold the information from me out of concern for my workload or out of fear of being a burden. Though that is—a sentiment I don't understand. Nothing is more important to me than their health."

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R.B | RUGGIE BUCCHI

About: The Photo In His Wallet

"Where is it?! Man, I'm so fucked if I lost it—Oh?! Oi, Yuuken! That wallet's mine! Man, thanks a lot. I really would've been screwed over if it weren't for you." "Eh? The photo? Shishishishi curious, aren't cha? Hmmm...how 'bout this? You get me a steaming hot meat bun and I'll give you a story time about them."

Chat: A Hopeful Future

"My studies? Course I take them seriously! That's what's gonna' put food on the table one day. Plus, I wanna' give (Y/N) the life they deserve—What'd I mean? Well, if I'm going to be their husband, I want 'em to live comfortably. It's not like we need anythin' luxurious, anyways. As long as we're together and there's enough food to go by, it's going to be all right."

Personal Story: In Sickness and In Health

"....that's good to hear. Please look after 'em, granny. Love ya." The call ends and Ruggie sighs. "That's the best news I've received since."

>"News?"

"Guh-?! Man! What's with you and sneaking up on me!? Yeah yeah—you heard right...news. Granny just called me to talk about (Y/N), their health is looking up. Tell ya' what, I knew that deal with Azul was worth it. I managed to snag some medicine and send it home."

>"Oh? Medicine?"

"Yeah. Ever since my first year of high school, they were sick and bedridden. (Y/N)'s parents don't have enough money for a doctor, so there's not much they can do. Of course, I'm out here doin' my best to help too."

"I really...I really wanna see them up and runnin' again. Hey, who knows—maybe we'll get to make flower crowns for the village kids again...together."

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A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO

About: An Interrogation

"Yuuken, you’ve met (Y/N), I hear. Well, as their partner, it's only right that I ask you about it. I assume you don't mind. So, what is your opinion of them? Nothing short of perfection, I hope."

"Hm? You think they're nice? Good then."

Chat: Busy Octoboss

"With all the deals, my maintenance of my academic ranking, and my position as Monstro Lounge's manager, my workload is quite substantial compared to most. And, I regret to say that it does get in the way of my personal life, including quality time with my lover. It tears at my heart, yet I cherish how they're so understanding and patient. Still, sometimes I can't help but think I am undeserving of them..."

Personal Story: Deep Sea Bonds

"My childhood is not something that I appreciate or want to remember. Yet, despite everything I've been through, I do think it is pleasant to look back on the days when I met them. You see, (Y/N) was bullied too. They were just like me, relentlessly bad mouthed and hurt by the kids around us. However, they never failed to greet me every day with a bright smile on their face."

>"What a sunny person."

"They'd also always have the courage and bravery to stand up for me, often taking the brunt of the bullying. I wish I could say I did the same for them...but I was far too cowardly back then..."

>"Wow. You two must be really close, then."

"Of course. They've been through a lot.Which is exactly why I won't allow anyone to speak ill of them anymore." Azul pauses, smiling slyly. "Say, Yuuken. You'll tell me if anyone casts aspersions on my Angelfish, won't you?"

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J.L | JADE LEECH

About: A Helping Hand

"Hm? What's that? Ah, you’ve met my darling pearl. I see. I do notice how you’ve been frequenting Monstro Lounge lately…Have you perhaps acquired a romantic interest towards them? No? Hehe, Alright." "Now, to answer your question, yes, that is right; (Y/N) routinely comes over to visit and aid me in my Mountain Treks. I couldn't be more grateful for their assistance."

Chat: The Pearl Ring

"Oya? I see you're curious about the ring I've been crafting. Well, it's for (Y/N). You see, in merfolk culture, we create handcrafted jewelry to serve as a courting gift. This is one of many ornaments I plan on giving them. Though, this one is...particularly unique. Ah, well...(Y/N) Leech does have a nice ring to it, does it not?"

Personal Story: A Jaded Reaction

"Oya? (Y/N) is spending the night at Ramshackle? Whatever reason for?"

>"Grim wanted to have a game night."

"Ah. I see. How...lovely. What's that? My smile is frightening you? Oho, now is it? Hehe, my deepest apologies. We eels tend to be quite...protective. I so anticipate you to take good care of them. And fret not, as long as you keep them away from any harm, no disputes shall arise."

>"Uh...and if something happened?"

"What if something happened...? Well, I'm sure you wouldn't mind being hunted down the face of the earth, tied up, and pulled down to the deepest pits of the blue ocean, where no one can hear your anguished cries for help...Would you?"

>"..."

"Just joking. I would never do that."

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F.L | FLOYD LEECH

About: A Sea Walnut

"(Y/N)? Aha~~~ You've heard of my little sea walnut? They're so adorable and squishy, yanno!—Is there a problem? If you got a problem with 'em, I'll squeeze you." "Oh? Not scared at all, huh? Ehe~ You sure are ballsy. Tread carefully now, shrimpy~!"

About: Ocean Currents

"Whenever a strong ocean current comes, sea walnut always huddles close to me and grabs my arm. They've always been afraid of being blasted away."

"They used to do that a lot when we were kids, but it never gets old. Hehe~ Sometimes, I lead them to places where the waves are strong, jus' so they can cling onto me! It's so funny to see 'em get afraid and scramble after me when I move too far away. "

Personal Story: Shark Attack

"Hmm~? Oh, what're these bite marks? Rad, aren't they? I got them after fighting a buncha' sharks."

>"Sharks?! Why would you do that?"

"To get these. It's shark teeth. Our anniversary is comin' up, and Jade suggested that I should make some jewelry for them. It's a merfolk courting thing. Azul 'n Jade told me to get them pearls, but I thought that was boring. So, I'm making one with shark teeth instead! Isn't that cool~?"

>"I-I guess, but what happened to the sharks?"

"Ugh. None of them were a fun hunt. The entire hoard swam away so fast. Can you believe it???… I’m not the typa eel who would let my prey get away that easily, though. And it’s not like I had anything better to do. Ehehe! There were so many of those sharks swarming around, but I managed to squeeze them all! Well, it was worth it in the end cuz I got what I wanted. I'll do anythin' for my little sea walnut~"

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J.V | JAMIL VIPER

About: A Hearty Meal

“What am i doing? Well, I'm making some Roast Chicken with Sumac Flatbread. Oh? Who's (Y/N)? Ah, Kalim must have told you, huh. (Y/N) is my partner. They are truly wonderful."

"For example—Though I like to think I'm skilled at disguising my true feelings, the moment I go to see them, they already know what I'm thinking. They have a keen sense of intuition and always seem to know what I need and when I need it. Truly, I'm grateful for such a caring—Ah, I'm sorry. I was rambling again."

Chat: Snake-Eyed Envy

"I can't dispute that a lot of people back home are vying for their affection.That bothers me at times. As Kalim's babysitter-ehem, retainer, I don't have enough time to check in on them every day...However, as cheesy as it sounds, I have yet to meet someone who is as smitten with (Y/N) as I am."

Personal Story: World Left Unsaid

"I soon understood that I was more than the circumstances of my birth, all thanks to (Y/N). In fact, My bond with Kalim has become stronger and more genuine thanks to them. I...realized my hatred for Kalim was just my desire for my circumstances to be different...I didn't hate him at all. Without (Y/N), I would never have understood it."

>"They must be very important to you, Jamil."

"Absolutely. I was terrified that I might lose them after my overblot. But to my surprise, they stayed with me. Naturally, it hurt them, but they were really compassionate towards me and about how much I had to go through."

>"Do they know of what you feel?"

"I...I don't think (Y/N) realizes just how much I cherish them. I don't think now's the right time for that though. I've hurt them too much and I still have a long way to go before I fix things."

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M.D | MALLEUS DRACONIA

About: He's Engaged?!

"I am, indeed, betrothed. Heh. Why are you looking so bewildered, Child of Man? If I'm going to be a king someday, it only makes sense that I would need someone to reign alongside me, no? At first glance, (Y/N) may seem aloof, but as you get to know them more, you'll see that they are actually incredibly lovely and warm."

"You never thought I was one for romance? My, my... What a bold statement, you best learn how to hold your tongue. Have you considered that I could use lightning to smite you where you stand?...Now, now—That was a joke. You don't have to cower in fear."

Chat: Safe And Sound

"My precious treasure tells me that I tend to get protective at times. Though can you really fault a lover for wanting to protect the one who is most important to them in this cruel, ruthless world. One where others will not hesitate to turn on you?"

Personal Story: The Art Of War

"I am actually the first of my lineage to wed someone who is not a noble. You see, (Y/N) is a knight-in-training. And, as you can probably guess, they served as my retainer. To see them at work was truly a magnificent sight to witness. They command attention and radiate strength. While I had always admired them, I could not bring myself to express my true feelings to them. Until...that night."

>"That night?"

"Yes. On the evening of Silver's 16th birthday, someone had rushed at me with a dagger in hand. (Y/N) was the first to respond and took the hit for me...The sound of their screams as the knife tore through their flesh was truly...horrifying."

>"That's horrible! What happened to the guy?"

"Worry not, he was taken care of accordingly....If there is anything I’ve learned from Lilia's many teachings, it’s that the worst calamities that befall an army arise from hesitation. To avoid further offensives, one must deal with and eliminate adversaries as soon as possible. Don't you think so?"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and are very motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @chuuchuudreams @taruruchi

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zanarkandskylines · 2 months

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Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-

Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭

but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-

Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-

Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!

I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨

Substitute Gear

『 ♡』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.

“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.

“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”

As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.

“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.

“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”

You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.

“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.

Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.

───

After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.

“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.

“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.

The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.

“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”

Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?

The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.

“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."

He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?

"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.

"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"

"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."

"No, dumbass! C'mere!"

You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.

"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."

That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.

You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."

Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."

He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.

───

The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.

"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"

You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."

The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.

Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"

Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.

The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"

When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.

"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."

thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #my hero academia #☆.from the stars #☆.rei writes

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hotchs-big-hands · 10 months

Text

What did you call me?

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words

Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader

NSFW Minors dni please

Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.

When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.

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Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅

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The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.

"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.

"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"

"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.

"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."

The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.

"Oh? Do tell us more."

"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.

"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."

Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.

"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.

Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.

A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.

"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.

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Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.

Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.

"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.

"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.

"You're distracted."

Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.

"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.

"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.

"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.

"Anything I can do to help?"

You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.

"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.

"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."

You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.

"Thank you, sir."

You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.

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Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.

"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.

"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."

You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.

"Sorry, I'll drink slower."

JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.

Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.

"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.

"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.

"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.

"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"

You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.

"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"

"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."

More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.

"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."

You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.

"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.

"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.

"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.

"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.

"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.

"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."

Your eyes widened in horror.

"Excuse me?"

Spencer cleared his throat.

"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.

"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."

Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.

It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.

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The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.

"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.

"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.

The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.

"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.

"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.

"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.

"She doesn't scare me."

"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."

"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."

You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.

"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.

"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."

A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.

"I'm not getting involved."

Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.

"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.

"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.

"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."

In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.

Oh.

You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.

Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.

"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.

"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.

"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"

The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.

"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."

Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.

"I know that."

"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"

"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."

You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.

"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.

"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.

"I know."

You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.

"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."

Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.

"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.

The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.

There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.

You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.

"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.

"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.

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A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.

Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.

Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.

Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.

"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?

You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.

"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."

You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.

"What's wrong?"

Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.

"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."

You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.

"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.

"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.

"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."

Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.

"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.

"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."

He raised a brow at you.

"Really now?"

Your eyes widened and you stuttered.

"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.

"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."

A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.

"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.

"Good night, sir."

He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.

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And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖

#a writes #a's writing #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader

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aesethewitch · 3 days

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Ghosts 101

Spirit work has always been the ultimate base of my spiritual and magical practices. Some of my earliest clear memories are of encounters with spirits, and I’ve always had a talent for sensing them. In a horror movie setting, I’d be that person who gets the weird feeling in the hallway right before all the doors slam shut at once, feeling the shift in the air before whatever ghoul’s around makes its mischief.

I mention this right out of the gate so that you, the reader, know that most of what I know about ghosts (and spirits in general) comes from personal experience. Not books, not videos, not other people’s work. There’s a lot of UPG in this little essay. Just keep that in mind as you read.

If there’s something you disagree with or have different experiences with, I’m not surprised! Everything in the realm of spirits, including ghosts, can really only be theorized about. Disagreeing opinions, experiences, and theories are very, very welcome. Drop ‘em in the replies, reblogs, or my inbox. Or, if you want, make a post of your own and tag me in it. I want to see them!

Anyways, with that lengthy UPG disclaimer out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff.

What is a Ghost?

I think it’s important to note, though kind of obvious, that ghosts are a sub-category of spirit. All ghosts are spirits, but not all spirits are ghosts. But what is a ghost, exactly?

As with most things, theories differ. In general, ghosts are thought to be… well, dead people. Some folks think that ghosts are the soul, essence, or spirit of a person who has died. Others believe that ghosts are just a fragment of a person’s spirit. But I’ve also seen theories stating that ghosts aren’t really ghosts, they’re echoes or imprints of human energy that once existed in a place.

Then, there are folks who think ghosts don’t exist at all. I can’t really blame them; empirical, repeatable proof of ghosts is tough to get in order to be satisfying in a scientific way. The only reason I personally believe in ghosts is because I’ve had several encounters that can’t otherwise be explained. Plus, for me, it goes hand-in-hand with other types of spirit work. Ghosts being real just makes sense with the framework I use to engage with the world.

So, obviously, there isn’t one single, concrete answer as to what a ghost is. We can only theorize.

My Theories

My personal theory aligns more or less with one of the more common theories. I think that ghosts are the lingering spirits of living beings who have died. Note I say living beings — some people think that only humans can become ghosts, but I think that any living thing can become one. In the case of plants and trees, ghosts behave somewhat differently than animals; but that’s a whole other conversation to be had. For the sake of this post, I plan on focusing mainly on human ghosts.

The way I understand it, ghosts are the whole, complete essence of a person that lingers in the physical realm for a time after their physical body no longer functions. I believe there are also energetic imprints — energy left over from the living, often (but not always) caused and fueled by strong emotions and lingering ties of memory in a place. These imprints can seem like a haunting, but the key difference is that they aren’t sentient. They may echo when you call, but they won’t give answers that are intelligent or timely according to questions asked or stimulus provided by the living. Sort of like recording a ringing bell; playing the bell’s chime back doesn’t ring the bell again. It just plays the sound it knows.

Now, death does funny things to the mind. Depending on the circumstances of the death, a ghost might have full awareness that they were alive, have died, and are now a ghost. I find this is most common for people who died of old age and long-term diseases: people who knew they were nearing the end, for one reason or another.

Ghosts formed from more sudden deaths, on the other hand, are likelier to not know what happened. They may figure it out given time, or they may never learn the truth. As with most other things dealing with individuals, the exact circumstances vary. No two ghosts are exactly the same. Some people don’t become ghosts at all, I’ve found! They simply move on.

Another important aspect of my theories on ghosts is that I think they fade. Unless they’re continually tied to a space, fed a steady supply of energy, and purposely kept in the physical realm, I believe that they can’t sustain a form here. Without a physical body to keep the spirit, soul, consciousness, or whatever we are, a ghost is gradually pulled into the more ethereal side of things. The astral plane, the other side, the afterlife, et cetera; I’m not sure, personally, where they end up. Maybe it depends on what they were attached to in life, maybe it doesn’t. Who knows!

I think this is where I draw the distinction between ghosts and ancestor spirits. “Ancestor spirits,” in my practice, aren’t individual people from my past. Rather, they’re a sort of collective consciousness made up of all the people who came before me who are connected to me through familial, cultural, and blood ties. I like to believe that ghosts become part of that collective when they fade out of the physical world. All this is to say, ghosts are just people who are dead. They won’t be around forever unless they’re bound and kept “fed.”

On Hauntings

The first half of the things everyone wants to know is: How do we know when a ghost is actually present? It’s a good question, one that’s hotly debated in ghost hunting circles. For the sake of argument, I think we need to define the word haunting first.

To be clear, a haunting isn’t just when a ghost is present. A ghost just passing through or lingering for a little while doesn’t necessarily make a haunting. That would be better described as a presence. A haunting, in my opinion, is a long-term, sustained presence of a ghost or imprint.

And the first step to dealing with a haunting is to determine whether the place you’re in is actually haunted. You don’t have to have super sensitive psychic powers to detect the presence of ghosts. Some folks might have an easier time of it than others, but anyone can learn how to discern when a ghost is hanging around.

It’s important to note that commonly-reported signs of ghost presences and hauntings are also symptoms of other issues like mold, electrical issues, pressure changes, carbon monoxide, stress and anxiety, noisy neighbors, animals outside or in the walls (including bugs), sleep apnea or insomnia, and more. It’s important to consider mundane reasons before leaping to magical, spiritual, or ghostly ones.

With that in mind, let’s say that you’ve ruled out all the mundane possibilities, and you’re still left wondering whether that place is capital-H Haunted. How can you tell?

In my experience, there are a few signs that will stick out:

Disembodied sounds, such as voices, knocking, and walking

A pervasive chill or prickling feeling, particularly on parts of the body that are covered

A feeling of being touched, poked, or prodded

Visual disturbances like mist or shadows

Sudden smells that can’t be explained, such as perfume, tobacco, or food

Batteries in things like phones and cameras draining very quickly

Now, note that even with these signs, a lot of these things can happen with spirits that aren’t ghosts. The only way to know for absolutely sure that you’re dealing with a ghost and not a mischievous, physical-realm-poking non-human spirit is to make contact and ask.

My fellow sensitive individuals may experience other signs during a haunting. Depending on where your abilities lie, you might experience stronger sensations or detect signs of a haunting earlier than others who haven’t trained these senses.

What Causes a Haunting?

It’s hard to say. Some people (particularly ghost hunters with big TV shows who need to make those viewer numbers go up) say that ghosts stick around because they’re pissed off or had some tragedy befall them in life. Trauma ties them to their surroundings, trapping them between life and death as a specter, or something like that.

Honestly, all that tells me is that these guys are trying to sell you something (their show). I’ve met maybe two ghosts that were like that, and they had extremely good reasons for it. That’s not to say there aren’t traumatized ghosts out there; just that they aren’t nearly as common or the only explanation for a haunting.

I’m personally not sure what causes some ghosts to linger over others. I think it does partly have to do with emotion, but it may also have to do with the amount of energy the person had left when they died. For example, the ghost of my great-aunt faded within a couple weeks after she died, because she was old, tired, and ready. On the other hand, the ghost of a guy I went to school with who died in an accident a few years ago is still lingering on the train tracks where it happened. It’s an extremely individual thing.

Another part of lingering ghosts and hauntings, I think, is interaction with the living. Without a physical body, the ghost has no native source of energy. Part of working with ghosts, for me, has been learning how to share energy (mine or from other sources) with ghosts to help them communicate, interact, and continue existing. When the energy runs out, they fade. With a steady supply of energy sources, a ghost could theoretically haunt a place indefinitely.

So, what causes a haunting? I don’t really know for sure! What causes a haunting to linger? A steady source of energy, I think.

Making Contact

So, you want to talk to a ghost. Cool! You’ve got a ton of options at your disposal.

There are the witch-typical methods of spirit communication, most of which would work fairly well for talking to ghosts. I’ve talked a little bit about spirit communication methods before in a more general sense, but I find that ghosts don’t always respond well to divination.

In my experience, simpler tools are better. Unless I knew for a fact that a person understood tarot in life, I would be unlikely to use it to talk to their ghost. Tools you can easily explain that provide clear answers would likely serve you best for most ghosts. My biggest suggestions are pendulums, which are easy for ghosts to understand and manipulate, and ouija boards. Yes, yes, I can hear the gasping and booing already.

Listen. Ouija boards are not evil. Ouija is a game. But talking boards really are good tools for talking to ghosts. Again, they’re easy to understand and manipulate. Plus, you can get really clear answers from a talking board if your ghost is chatty.

There are other tools that have been popularized by ghost hunters that may come in handy, too. Personally, I’ve had success with voice recorders catching EVP (electronic voice phenomena) and, on one notable occasion, a ghost box.

Honestly, I’ve had little use for tools like these outside of ghost hunting scenarios where we’re trying to prove ghosts’ existence in a scientific sense. Voice recorders catching wisps of voice in the background are super cool, and I definitely would suggest having one on hand when doing a ghost adventure. But they’re not great for in the moment communication, since you have to stop a recording to listen back to it and then react who knows how long later.

Where ghost boxes are concerned, I’ve only had the one opportunity to try it out. We were in a location I knew to be haunted thanks to previous visits, and it did seem to work okay. I’d like to try it again sometime to see if it was just a fluke or if it’s an actual, viable thing to use. With any tool commonly used in ghost hunting TV shows (or that’s otherwise Popular By Spectacle), I always approach with serious skepticism. Those shows are all about creating a reaction that can be captured; and when they don’t receive a response, they’re liable to make shit up for the cameras. It’s annoying, especially when a tool might really be useful but it’s shrouded in the very necessary skepticism around these shows.

Now, my personal go-to method to connect to ghosts is to just… talk to them. I don’t usually need to use any tools for it. But I’ve spent many, many, many years honing the skills needed to do this. It’s worth learning how to do if you plan on working with spirits, but it does take effort to get good at, even if you have an innate talent for it. If you can, take some time to develop a sense for spirits. Learn what spiritual presences feel like for you. You may not get immediate results at first, but the skill of sensing energy can apply across the board. And even if you get no “real” response, you can still talk to the ghosts.

When you go to communicate with a ghost, just remember that they’re still a person. They’re not a spectacle, though they are fascinating. Not all ghosts are going to want to talk to you. Not all ghosts are going to like you. Be respectful. Treat that ghost like you’d treat any stranger out in the wild. Don’t be an asshole.

On Mediumship

This is mostly just a brief note, since it’s an adjacent topic that I’ve gotten questions about before.

Not everyone who talks to or works with ghosts is a medium. A medium is a particular career or path that describes someone who acts as a connector between the living and the dead. I tend to think of mediums as the telephone in a conversation — relaying messages back and forth. I used to do medium work all the time. It’s an exhausting path that requires a lot of self-discipline and solid boundaries dealing with both the living and the dead. I don’t do it anymore, though I do still communicate and work with ghosts regularly.

Just keep in mind that you don’t have to take on the title or mantle of “medium” in order to talk to, work with, or research ghosts.

Ghostly Q&A

I received a handful of questions about ghosts in the run up to posting this; thank you everyone who sent in a question! If you’ve got a question and want my perspective on it, feel free to drop it in my inbox or in the replies/reblogs of this post.

From @moonmargaritas: “How do you tell the difference between nervousness at discerning the presence of a ghost (new practitioner who still gets jitters 🤙) and sensing actual hostile intent?”

This is a really great question! This is something I had to work through myself when I got started. And honestly, I still get jitters sometimes many years later! It can be scary, even when you’re used to it.

The biggest piece of advice I have is to learn how your body experiences nervousness or anxiety. Where does that sit in your body? What kind of feelings to you experience?

For me, nervousness is a sort of itchy tingling around my shoulders and tightness around my ribs. It also manifests as the feeling of being watched or observed too closely. It’s easy to misattribute those feelings to a ghost’s presence — tingling and feeling like something’s watching? Those are classic ghost interactions! But I know that’s what anxiety feels like. That’s how I feel when the lights go out too fast or I hear a branch snap in the distance.

Once you know, you can work past those feelings and focus on what’s actually happening with the ghost (or spirit). I think of it like knowing when someone’s mad at me. Are they mad, or am I just anxious? It’s the same idea.

And, as a note, ghosts with hostile intent are few and far between. I personally don’t think that most ghosts, even the nastiest ghosts, can actually hurt you; they don’t have the energy resources for it. The ones that do are obvious, and you won't really have to question their intentions. However, you can always work with the communication methods mentioned above to determine the ghost’s feelings and intents. If you’re worried about negative interactions, a bit of salt and rosemary in a little pouch placed in your pocket goes a long way for protection.

From anonymous: “What’s an unusual way people could use to communicate with spirits? Like an expected divination tool or something we should pay more attention to.”

Hmmmm! Honestly, I think that classic, actual call and response is underrated specifically when it comes to ghosts. Yeah, we’ve all seen the Ghost TV Guys call out for a knock or a word or whatever, but when they get a response, they wig out and don’t do anything with it. It’s annoying!! Because genuinely, saying “tap once for yes, twice for no” and asking questions is a really, really solid way to communicate with a ghost when you have no other tools that will work on hand. I’ve had ghosts lead me to important places and objects within houses doing this. I think more people should give it a try without falling prey to the over-the-top reaction of “DID YOU HEAR THAT?!”

From anonymous: What advice would you give someone dealing with a haunting?

For a run-of-the-mill, regular old haunting? Let it run its course. Most hauntings, when left alone, will fade. However, if you’re inclined to talk to the ghost(s), get them to leave quicker, or get them to be less intrusive in your life, there are a few things you could do.

To talk to them, choose a method of communication and try to reach out like I described above. Get to know them if you can, and set some ground rules. If they won’t (or can’t) communicate with you, and you really want them gone, I would probably recommend a gentle banishing ritual. Something that doesn’t scream “get out” so much as kindly say, “It’s time to move on.”

Or, if you don’t want the ghost gone, just a little quieter at night or out of your bedroom, you could set up wards or activity-dampeners around specific spaces. Choose ingredients and spells that protect against unwanted spirits or just unwanted activity. Keep it activated all day long or just at night while you’re trying to sleep.

Thanks for Reading!

Posts like this are usually put on my Ko-Fi as exclusives first, but since the questions in this one came from Tumblr, I decided to post it in both places at once! (:

With that said, if you did enjoy this post, consider throwing a couple dollars at my tip jar. Tips, commissions, and shop purchases get you 30 days of access to my entire backlog of exclusive posts and upcoming ones. Monthly members get continuous access plus extra benefits! All support helps me keep the lights on, so it's very much appreciated.

If you've got Ghost Questions, shoot 'em my way! My inbox is open.

#aese speaks #spirit work #ghosts #talking to ghosts #hauntings #paranormal #witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #this post is Super Basic #it was going to have More Details but like. it was getting TOO long yknow #so. this is uhhhh part one #ghost post series

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iheartjohnlennon · 9 months

Text

'Let me take you down'

London, '66

Summary: John and Paul see the same so John and Paul share the same (you).

Word count: 3,054

Tags: Smut, Threesome, Unrequited Love

The lounge was adorned with light, drugs, and music. The holy trinity of joy.

The light was more a metaphorical one. But no one had caught your eye, personally.

You had caught a few though.

Through your peripheral vision, you saw John Lennon slightly sauntering towards you.

A cig in hand, flirtation on standby and a smile that would make most of his thirteen-year-old army piss themselves with happiness.

Finally, you thought to yourself.

He can now stop undressing you with his eyes or making passing comments.

You knew he wanted you, you've known that for a while now.

You also know of his other half, his bandmate, Paul. He gives you eyes as well.

But you try not to pay Paul any romantic mind because he gouges his eyes out for any woman he sees anyways.

"Well 'ello love." John speaks in a chipper tone, he sits beside you, not even asking if the seat is taken.

His cockiness shines through as he rubs against you, you turn fully to look at him.

"John." You don't give anything up, you won't make it easy.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He strokes your chin, he seems disappointed you aren't on your knees from the first hello.

You scoffed, "Quiet? We've been speaking for seconds John."

"Ye know wha' I mean.." He rolls his eyes, he didn't like how dismissive you were sometimes.

John always had a simple philosophy of flirt then fuck, which clearly didn't seem to work a hundred percent of the time.

"Why's a bird like you, 'ere alone?" How classic.

"Because I came here alone."

"Well, no shit."

"Don't get rude."

"Not gettin' rude lovely." He took a puff of his cig.

A voice interrupted your little squabble, it was a familiar one, "I reckon he's tryin' to call ya beautiful."

You saw the charming face that matched.

"Which ya are by the way," Paul added with a smirk.

He stood before you both. His hair was dishevelled and he smelled delicious.

"Alrigh' McCharmly she gets it, fuckin' 'ell." John spoke with an acute bitterness in his tone. He wasn't prepared to let you go yet, especially not to Paul.

"Ha, well, anyways I came here to ask if yous wanted to smoke some grass."

So that's what that aroma was, the one that hypnotized you to no end.

And 'yous'. He wanted you both.

As much as you preferred Paul's company over John's, you were intrigued by this offer of having both of them at the same time, smoking.

"Wha', you wanna smoke 'ere?" John questioned.

"Not really, follow me." Paul palmed your hand in his with a warm smile as John placed his hand on your back possessively.

They both ushered you through the bar area upstairs, into some sort of chamber.

It was abundantly less lively than the former and had harmonious jazz playing in the background as opposed to some soft rock.

Everyone looked like they were on something, good and bad. You felt intimidated. John and Paul knew this scene more than you, even though you came to the lounge often.

"Welcome!" Paul began, "Make yerselves at home I suppose, I'll be back."

You and John were oddly close on the sofa. Physically because his arm was loosely around your waist and emotionally because his eyes were intensely on yours.

Maybe it was the music, the lighting, or his flirting that made you yearn for more than just his gaze.

He took your chin in his fingers, "Yer beautiful, ye know that?"

"Do you need me to know that?"

"I'll tell you every day if I can."

John shifted his head, it was on a tilt as if he was going to kiss you. You were happy to oblige, but a vigorous Paul interrupted you both. Again.

He strode in with a plastic baggy filled with weed, rolling paper, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. This could be an undoubtedly long night.

Paul placed himself beside you, now you were nicely in between the pair.

"We'll share one blunt and do a pass around." John affirmed.

"Yeah, an' Y/N will roll 'em 'cause she has tiny, cute fingers." You adored the way Paul tickled your hands after saying that. You sent him a smile and he sat back, hand tracing circles on your back.

You didn't smoke weed often but didn't find it hard to roll the blunt.

"Good girl." John whispered, giving you a smirk.

"Have a light?" You asked no one in particular.

"Sure thing."

Paul reached into his pocket and fished out a light, he held the blunt between your lips childishly and held your jaw as it lit.

You took in a puff and immediately felt inundated with pleasure and simultaneous dizziness.

You sat down but felt like you were stumbling on a circus wire. You turned to John and Paul, their faces were now just attractive blurs.

You cleared your throat heavily after inhaling more.

"Ladies first." John chuckled.

"Easy there, you ok?" Paul asked patting your back.

"Absolutely sublime." You sneer whilst inhaling even more. You could feel your face getting hot and your vision getting more skewed.

You had enough and passed it on to Paul. This was nothing new and as he took a puff he looked at you with contentment.

His hand was still on your back, rubbing up and down.

He passed the blunt onto John.

He held your shoulders and began with a lustrous look in his eyes, "I want to kiss ya, lemme kiss ya Y/N?"

You could only nod in response before Paul lay a warm kiss on your lips, his tongue exploring yours as he replaced John's arm with his.

"Slag." John mumbled.

Your noses touched, your tongues tasted and your chests collided as Paul kept his devoted pace.

John watched you and Paul make out whilst longingly taking swigs from the whiskey.

John was watching with a peculiar fixation. He loved the way you groaned as Paul bit your lip, he loved the way you squirmed with each wet kiss.

This was peculiarly turning him on.

Paul met John's eyes for a moment whilst in the middle of necking on with you.

He felt bad for the fella, he was in this cuckold, which wasn't a cuckold because John isn't with you, but still.

Paul stopped kissing you, you sighed craving more of him.

"Can I share ya?" Paul mused to your bewilderment.

"Hm?"

"Sorry, I meant can we share ya?"

"Hm-".

You were overwhelmed with such a flabbergasting joke. You were stopped in your tracks by such a crude joke.

Or?

Was Paul asking for a ménage à trois right now?

John sniggered from beside you, "He's not good with his words, is he? It seems like he wants a threesome, well- we."

This was convenient. You could all find somewhere private, knew each other well and were as horny as it seems.

Paul spoke, "Ya know, ya really don't have-"

"I want to." Your eagerness came out as you interrupted him to accept.

Paul put on a grin. He had you where he wanted you.

"We'll take this somewhere more private after you neck on with John."

You did somewhat like John. And you supposed he would have fucked you eventually, but certainly not in this circumstance.

Paul playfully pushed your head towards John's and whispered, "C'mon baby ya know ya want to, I see the way ya look at him."

Before you could even formulate a response, John was already on you. He grasped the back of your head and immediately placed his lips on yours.

His tongue and teeth collided with yours, you could taste each drop of whiskey on him.

Paul smoked and watched with lidded eyes.

John gripped your waist with both hands, his kissing was passionate and abrasive. He groaned, he was properly getting off to this. He got rougher, pushing you into the sofa.

"Alrigh', alrigh' don't kill 'er." Paul cracked up whilst separating you both.

Paul's kiss contrasted with John's. Your lips felt all puffy after John, he looked at you smugly. You couldn't tell the difference between John making you dizzy and what you were smoking.

Paul's task was over and the men on either side of you gave each other a knowing look.

You all rushed down the stairs quicker than a blink.

They were all over you the moment the driver set his eyes on the road. You didn't care if the driver was watching, or hearing. You had two pairs of hands on you. Yanks and grabs were all you felt the whole way through. Paul was in one ear and John was in the other.

Paul attacked your neck with smooches and sucks, you giggled girlishly at the feel.

John buried his face in your breasts and all but tried to leave marks on your chest.

You felt their hands travel down further, like waist down further. You halted their efforts to dually finger you in the back of some car and cautiously mumbled, "Later, later.."

A triad of soft moans and silly giggles continuously echoed in the car, you were sure the driver was sick of you all now.

"Are we nearly there yet?" You said dramatically.

"We arrived minutes ago you daft girl." John laughed.

Jesus, now you were dazed.

Paul began, "Shall we?"

The driver didn't bother to say goodbye and drove off with a scowl.

You all sounded hysterical whilst rushing to Paul's hotel room.

The hallway was closing in on you. Paul had his key in hand and fumbled with the lock, John had your ass in his.

"Any slower McCharmly?" You jested.

"I'll go faster when it's convenient Y/N."

With his dirty quip and the push of a door, you eventually entered.

Before you could even close the door behind you the duo was still all over you. You felt so many hands it was as if you were crowd surfing. They were taking small bits of clothing off, like ties and shoes, and somehow still found focus on you.

"We aren't even on the bed yet you animals." You whined.

"I'll 'ave ye anywhere." John retorted.

"A bed? Let's get on the bed then princess." Paul cooed, bringing you up to your feet properly.

You couldn't even get on the bed without feeling gropes and pinches all over you. You got on top of the thing and slouched back, in a relaxed position.

Paul made his way on top of you and John got on the side, laying by you.

Paul confidently took off your articles of clothing. He carelessly tossed your heels on the floor and began working to get your tights and skirt off.

John almost immediately mouthed you in that same rough manner again. He held onto the back of your head, making sure you wouldn't pull back. He took his kiss lower, to your jaw. Lower, to your neck. Lower, to your chest. He dragged your shirt up, so eager to have a taste he couldn't even pause to unhook your bra.

He sucked and fondled your breasts. You let out chortled moans as the ticklish splendour of him using his teeth to nibble and his tongue to swirl drove you over the edge.

"Fuck John-" You seized his hair in your hands, raking through it, drawing him closer. He swapped sides and moved onto the other breast.

The way your body writhed as John sucked you off made it fidgety for Paul to get your bottom half off. He managed in the end and wasted no time in taking an interest in your silk panties.

"Ooo, these are pretty... pretty Y/N.." He marvelled, tracing a maddening thumb over your clit.

As John proceeded with his kissing assault to your top half, Paul took his head to your lower regions. He licked your clit through the panties and teasingly gave it a kiss.

Then you felt Paul pull your panties aside. He slipped a finger into you and began a come-hither motion inside of you whilst also giving you little flicks with his tongue.

You frolicked around in ecstasy, you were reaching a boiling point from having both successes on your cunt at the same time. You could've cum from this alone, but you comprehended this was going to be a long night.

Your moans only rose louder, they turned into cries, you could feel yourself pulsing. Paul is damned good with his mouth.

He moved his head off you, leaving you wet and wanting. John also did the same, looking down on you triumphantly.

"Oh Paul...Oh John..." You sighed pleasantly.

The two gave each other another knowing look, you rolled your eyes, "What is it this time?" You flirted.

"Nothin' love, we're jus'...wonderin' ya know." Paul spoke back.

"Wondering about what?" You mused, turning on your stomach.

"How good ya are.." Paul whispered.

"How good I am what?" You question, confused.

John suddenly mocked, "Bloody 'ell Paul, carn't stop speakin' in bloody metaphors can ye?"

"Awe, I think he's just a bit muddled from what he had earlier Johnny." You tittered.

Paul interrupted, "Righ' I'll get to the point then shall I? We wanna take ya from both ends."

"You don't have to present everything like a business proposition Paulie." You laughed, getting into a doggy position.

"Ya are our business Y/N." John enunciated.

Their positions were determined. Paul was behind you and John lay on his back in front of you. You got in between his legs, lowered down on your elbows, and greeted his clothed cock with a kiss.

You could feel him growing stiff as you worked to pull down his trousers, then his boxers.

Before Paul could put anything in, he was working to get fully naked.

John would have preferred fucking you from behind but he felt like the guest star, being all lounged back, receiving attention from your mouth.

You got his trousers off, then his boxers, you received a happy welcome.

He met your eyes and snatched your hair in his hands. "Yer beautiful...so beautiful..." John murmured, stroking a thumb across your lips.

"Isn't she." Paul chirped in, guiding his cock towards your entrance, in a reverie, all imperceptive and seductive.

You practically shivered at the intention, his first thrust was unreal, different to any cock you had felt before, maybe because it was him.

His cock naturally felt more distinct than his fingers. Its thickness caressed your vaginal canal and provided tinges to your G-spot via the tip.

He sped up the moment he got that first feel, moving you forward before you could even fit the latter into your mouth, the impulsive movement causing you to brush your face against his cock as opposed to sucking.

"Mmmph, mmm." Paul moaned.

"Fuck- fuck-" was all you could muster as John watched in amusement. He gave himself a few tugs before discovering great solace in your lips.

He bobbed you up and down, vulgarisms rang from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around the top inches and used your hands to trace what your throat wasn't handling.

"Fuckin' 'ell Y/N...fuckin' 'ell...keep goin' baby, jus' like tha'..." John's head lulled back in fulfilment, he honoured you to high heaven and was for the time thankful Paul was here, as every thrust he gave you caused your moans to vibrate onto his cock.

You were all moaning messes, utterly void of any emotion apart from pleasure and whatever emotion you would call being under the influence.

You were being rag-dolled back and forth and wished for every bit of it.

John's hand got tighter but his once consistent up-and-down movement got sloppier, his hips moved up lightly, trying to get as much of you on his cock as humanely possible.

He was balls deep within your mouth, you were taking in a nose full of his pubic hair. "Yer goin' to make me cum- Jesus Christ Y/N!" His words were still riddled with praise and hastiness as his free hand palmed your tits. He grunted as each movement he made caused the sensitive tip to touch the back of your throat.

You relished in providing John pleasure.

Paul had only gotten harsher, the space was mainly filled with the moist sounds of Paul penetrating you, the viscosity you two had produced felt mouthwatering.

"Ya like it when I go faster don't ya? Tell Paulie you like it when he goes faster." He uttered.

His strokes were paired with that voice off his and as he arrived close, he all but cooed, "Like tha' Y/N? Like tha' baby?"

You turned your head back at him for a moment, he greeted you with a cocky, yet lovely smile. His hair was all messy and he was flushed with colour.

You could feel him precisely hitting and caring for every nerve inside of you, with his hands tugging on your hips and his pelvis meeting your ass.

And as much as you rasped out John's name, you couldn't help but pull him out of your mouth, only subtly, just to stammer out Paul's.

You felt an exhilaration coming from all senses. John let out a definitive moan, finally releasing into the back of your throat. The consistency made you feel naughty, you spat some back out only to lick it off his cock again, the slight overstimulation drove him mad, "Shit- fuck...Y/N...slag..."

Almost on command, Paul did the same. You felt his cum shooting into you, a liquid bullet. He moved in slightly, shoving his semen to the innermost part of you, moaning yeahs and ooos.

He trembled as you clenched around him.

Paul changed positions off of you and so did John. You all looked like orgasmic chaos.

You felt hit with weakness after that, you signalled to them that maybe it was time to rest.

You were in between them. Paul spooned you, seemingly falling asleep the fastest, probably because he smoked the most.

John was facing you, muttering sweet whatevers and giving you smooches along your chest.

It's as if your souls intertwined with one another as you all simultaneously climaxed, you pondered.

"I love you." You whispered to no one specifically.

#paul mccartney x reader #the beatles #60s rock #the beatles imagine #the beatles x reader #the beatles smuts #john lennon #john lennon x reader #vintage #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #Spotify

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pajarinwrites · 8 months

Text

you could ask

➳ fem!reader x Dino

➳ wc: 2.7k

➳ TAGS: pwp; fluffy smut, smutty fluff MDNI, my dudes; it's so sweet tho kjsdiasejnasd

➳ WARNINGS: fucking(?) it's super fluffy though; fingering (f receiving), kissing, marking, petnames (babe, baby for her)

➳ AN: i continue to surprise in that dino is my least biased member except now that i wrote this, he might not be anymore; he's such a cutie ugh; also this RAN! AWAY! FROM! ME! it started as a drabble but 2.7k can under no circumstances be classified as a drabble. also there initially was supposed to be piv sex but then it got too long. i'll definitely write a continuation one-shot for this ugh. anyway, ENJOY!

also that's my fave photo of channie

You look up from your phone as your friend enters the lobby. He has his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, wearing the usual cap, mask, sunglasses combo in public, in an effort to remain unrecognised.

“Hey,” you greet with a soft wave. He pulls off his sunglasses to reveal eyes crinkling with smiles. “Hey!” He replies back, pulling you into a short hug before calling the elevator.

“How was practice?”

“The usual. Except Hoshi-hyung was hungover.”

“Huh?” You ask, sure you must’ve misheard him. Chan laughs in reply.

“Yeah, he filmed that program with Youngji yesterday that you like watching.”

“And he didn’t tell me?” You ask in mock affront, one hand resting on your chest dramatically. Chan shrugs. “I guess he assumed I’d tell you. But I forgot.” He sticks his tongue out to you as you follow him to his apartment.

You pass Vernon and Dokyeom in the kitchen; they wave to you in greeting before you follow Chan into his room.

“Leave the door open, children!” Dokyeom screams after you, prompting your friend to scream a dry hahaha back and slam his door all the harder. “They’re not even funny,” he pouts, dropping onto his bed where you’ve already gotten comfortable.

“Ugh,” he groans as the climbs up to the headboard next to you. “What’s wrong?” You ask, looking at his tense expression.

“It’s fine, practice just kicked a little harder than I thought.”

“Are you still up for movie night? We can just move it if you’re too exhausted.”

“Of course not! I always have energy for you.” He smiles softly, scooting closer, resting one arm on his headboard behind you as if it did nothing to him. You cleared your throat, trying your hardest not to shuffle so he wouldn’t feel obligated to move his arm away again.

“What’ve you got saved on your laptop?” He asks as you pull it up and open Netflix.

“I mean, I’ve been dying to watch the Scream remake for a while…” You know his stance on horror movies. As expected, “ugh! Can’t we watch something cute and cozy that won’t make me pull a muscle from jump scares!”

“Unfair argument! First you say you’re up for movie night and when it comes to picking a movie you bring up the issue of your sore muscles!”

“Well I can’t just make ‘em magically disappear.”

“But you got to pick the movie the last, like, three times!”

“I’m not saying you can’t pick. I’m just saying pick a different one!”

“Nuh uh, I want this one.” He groans again, rolling his head.

“Okay, then what will you do about my sore muscles?”

“Me? Do you want me to massage your sore muscles for you? Since when are your sore muscles my fault or problem?”

He grins, and with how close his face is to yours, it’s doing all kinds of things to your heart. “If you want to watch Scream so bad, it is your problem…”

Oh, so that’s how it is, you think, realising he never expected you to make good on any muscle relief. Lee Chan knows damn well you hate massages unless you’re on the receiving end. The amount of times he’s given you one eclipses the times you have returned the favour, a grand total of zero times.

“Sure,” you smile sweetly, setting your laptop back down on the floor next to Chan’s bed. He stares at you, eyes wide as saucers. “Huh?”

You remove his arm from your shoulders and get up, motioning for him to lie down. If your best friend wanted to play a game of chicken with you, he absolutely could.

“Also, you obviously gotta take your shirt off.”

Instead of moving, Chan is sitting still as a statue, still staring at you as if your hair had spontaneously changed colour. You wondered if this was really all it was going to take but eventually he shuffles down on the bed. He shrugs off his tee and you pretend like you aren’t surreptitiously looking him up and down.

“Okay, but you gotta do it properly, “ he states as he rests his head on his arms.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire as you get into position, positioning your left knee beside Chan’s body and swinging the other over so that you are straddling his butt.

“Just that you can’t quit after five minutes, and you can’t do it all softly.”

“Hmm,” you hum in agreement, “elbow grease.” Chan giggles in response, but it turns into a groan as soon as you dig your thumbs into the tops of his shoulders.

“You really aren’t holding back, huh?”

“I’ve been ordered to give it my all,” you reply, bearing down on one especially tight trapezius. Chan’s breath stutters under your ministrations and you’re glad he can’t see your face heat up. As your hands wander lower you feel like he’s tensing up more instead of less.

“Hey, relax,” you instruct, “this was your idea.”

Chan grumbles something into his pillow in reply but it only takes him a few more minutes and a few sounds that veer suspiciously into moan territory before he shrugs you off forcefully.

You let out a yelp of surprise as you flop down on the mattress next to him. “What was that for?”

“You did enough, we can watch your silly movie now.” He avoids your eyes and you can see that his face has turned red, but you try to blame it on the heat of the room and the fact that you just treated him like bread dough for fifteen minutes. As he sits back up against the headboard, he pulls the blanket over himself, his hands in his lap awkwardly.

“What are you doing?” You cock an eyebrow.

“Preparing to be scared to death,” he replies with a chuckle you believe was supposed to be light-hearted.

“It’s okay, I’ll protect you. You can hide behind me if you get scared,” you offer graciously. Chan rolls his eyes. “Just start the movie.”

You pull up your laptop and snuggle into your friend’s side. Chan fluffs up his pillows, one behind your back, one in his lap, and welcomes you into his arms again. You’ve watched movies in this position before, but today you’re restless. Chan seems to exude extra body heat today, and maybe it’s your wild imagination but his workouts have really started to pay off, and the feeling of his biceps pressing into your side distracts you more than you’d like to admit.

You stopped watching whatever is going on on screen several dozen minutes ago when you finally clear your throat. You’d been sneaking glances over at Chan for a while, his uncomfortable shifting, the suspiciously placed pillow. You had a hunch when he shrugged you off him earlier but the longer you sat next to him, having to endure his endless shuffling, the more convinced you were. Of course, you weren’t entirely unbothered by his presence either. The glimpse of his naked chest and back hadn’t left your mind, although you were hard-pressed to admit, that that sight had been the reason for your inability to focus.

“It’s a little boring, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” He asks, turning his frightful eyes from the screen. You hit pause.

“The movie, Chan.”

“Boring isn’t the adjective I’d use, but sure. We can definitely watch something else.”

“We could do something else.” You smirk, shifting so you can face him fully. Bless him, his expression betrays nothing but confusion. He opens his mouth to ask what you’re on about but you beat him to it.

“Chan,” you sigh, “is this going to be a repeat of Seungkwan’s birthday party?”

“Huh?” He asked. But the fact that he had turned a shade redder let you know that he was very aware of what you were talking about.

“You know, when we were in the kitchen alone and you leaned in and I was waiting for you to finally kiss me? But then you chickened out the last second and pretended you had just wanted to grab the vodka from behind me?”

Chan blinks at your, your words evidently not quite processed yet. “You wanted me to kiss you?” You rolled your eyes.

“For someone with such a big head, you can be pretty stupid, you know that?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know? I can’t read your mind.” You lean in closer - resting your hand on his thigh - and take delight in the way his breath hitches.

“You can always ask.” You whisper. He moves in even closer, the pillow sliding off his lap and letting you see that you were right about your prior assumption. You bite your lip at the sight of the obvious tent in his sweatpants.

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks, bringing your attention back to his face. He’s gorgeous, you think, in the half-light of his bedroom, his hair unstyled, his eyes shining. But he really isn’t going to budge if you don’t answer, it seems. “Yes, please,” you breathe.

His lips are on yours, softly, as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. His right hand is cradling your cheek. It makes you smile, wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him down with you. Chan let’s out another groan, catching himself with his left hand next to your head instead of letting his full weight crash into you, which coincidentally happens to be exactly what you wanted. You nudge his hand away, hoping for him to get the hint. Much to your chagrin, he pulls back, panting against your lips.

“What—“ you mean to ask but don’t get around to it when you see the dark, almost desperate shadow in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” His gaze drops to your lips, he’s nipping at your lower lip, making his way down your jawline. You manage to hold out on him until he reaches your pulse point, attaching his lips to the sensitive skin and nibbling at it in a way that’ll definitely leave a mark makes you whimper. Right now you couldn’t care less.

“Chan,” you moan, “please…” You can feel him smirk but he complies with your unspoken wish, continuing his way downward.

“Can I take this off you?” He asks, tugging at you shirt. You look down at his eyes, blown out and looking at you like you created the universe.

“Only if yours comes off too,” you say, meaning to tease him. His shirt’s over his head and at the other end of his room before you can blink. “Better?” He smirks, usually you’d be careful not to stroke his ego too much, but right now all you can think about it tracing every ridge on the expanse of his body with your tongue. It’s so much more fun when you can look freely. It must show on your face because Chan leans forward, whispering, “You can eat me up later, baby. Right now it’s my turn.” You have half a mind to hold back your whimpers at the tone of his voice but at the end you’re just a human, not some saint, so you stand no chance against the carnal vices of the flesh.

Chan takes off your shirt so skilfully that a very unwelcome thought of possessiveness flashes through your mind but with how he looks at you (very much not like you threw on your oldest, most comfy sport bra) the evil little voice in your head stands no chance. There can’t be any lingering doubt over his feelings with the way he undresses you slowly, deliberately, with all the care in the world, makes you think he mistook you for a fragile piece of art. His eyes say the same, casting glances at your face again and again, questioning; like he’s ready to drop everything if you so much as breathe a word. You have to commend him, especially with how evident the tent in his sweats has been for the better part of this evening.

“Chan,” you whine, ripping him out of the worship of the skin on your tummy. He looks dazed already. “Please stop teasing.”

He smiles, “Am I teasing you? Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to. You’re just so beautiful.”

You want to tell him off for being a sap but he starts kissing a straight line downwards from your navel and your words are caught in your throat.

His hands skitter up your thighs, making you shiver as he finally presses a digit to your core. He groans, “So wet for me already, love, you’ve soaked through your panties.”

“Looks like you have to take them off, then.” You smile and he obliges easily. It seems he’s really had enough of the teasing because he presses his thumb to you clit immediately, circling it. You moan his name as he slides one finger through your slick, “wanna touch you too.”

“Later, baby. Let me focus on you for now. Can I keep going?”

You mumble a pathetic Ohmygod yes please, that earns you a soft chuckle from him. He wastes no time in sliding a finger into you. Chan moans at the feeling of you wrapped around his fingers.

“Shit, babe,” is all you get out of him before his mouth is back on your skin, kissing up the insides of your thighs as he stretches you out on another finger. “Wanna come on my fingers, love?” You don’t trust your voice right now, so instead you nod vigorously. He stops testing the waters as his fingers and thumb speed up, spreading a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach. He shifts his weight upwards and is hovering over you, never ceasing the motion of his fingers.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

“If you don’t, I’m leaving right now,” you barely manage to breathe out between pants. From the way Chan smiles at you, you can tell you must look at least as fucked-out as you feel. He chooses not to tease you and you silently thank him for it. Instead he just leans in, meeting your lips in a manner that is nothing like the soft, innocent kisses from before. He pushes his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth as if he wanted to taste all of you. Just at that moment his fingers find that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You moan into the kiss, prompting him to mirror your sounds. Chan doesn’t let up on that spot, speeding up and hitting it again and again and again until the pressure becomes to much and the knot in your stomach snaps. He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving soft pecks all over your face until you’ve calmed down.

“Feeling better?” He asks. You’re forced to watch as he retrieves his fingers from your pussy, putting them in his mouth instead and licking them clean. He hums comfortably, “you taste so good, babe.”

You’re still staring at him, wide-eyed, trying to make sense of why the sight of your best friend licking his fingers clean of your essence is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He notices your state and his brows furrow.

“Hey, are you okay?” There’s real worry in his voice, so you nod in reassurance.

“I was just thinking that if this what I get for massaging your sore muscles a little, I’m definitely gonna start doing it more often.”

His eyes widen. “You wanna do this more often?” The disbelief in his voice makes you laugh in earnest. “Of course, in case you couldn’t tell, I had a lot of fun.” You’re unsure of your next sentence, but if you don’t say it now, you fear you’ll say it never, “and I like you. A lot.”

He has the dopiest grin on his face as he leans back down, giving you another sweet kiss. “In that case, let me take you out on a proper date before we do this the next time.” You cock an eyebrow.

“Chan, do you wanna be my boyfriend?” The man in question blushes, avoiding your eyes. “If that’s something you also want…”

You look at his expression, hopeful gaze lifting to catch yours. There’s a blush lingering on his cheeks, his hair all mussed up. You’ve never felt more comfortable with another person.

“Of course,” you reply, snaking one arm around his middle and pulling him close, “I’d love that, actually.”

#lee chan #dino #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #chan seventeen #dino seventeen #svt dino x reader #dino smut #dino fluff #lee chan smut #lee chan fluff

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raffe156 · 1 year

Text

Playing Favourites

Pairing - Price X MC (Tank) F!reader

Summary - Little fluff drabble that is set the morning after Spoils of war

A/N - Just a quick little thank you and something for you guys to remember its not all doom and gloom for these two! Well it is for the next few chapters but this is set after all that haha also I fully acknowledge Rudy and Alejandro being an item end of :)

I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! It only spurs me on haha

Warnings - Under 18+ DNI, angst, Smut, (If you squint) Language,fluff, Age gap Relationship, Price (41) reader (Tank, 26),domestic fluff

Tags: @irnbru32 @shuttlelauncher81 @mildlyhopeless @mentallynot-here @deadbranch @soapyghost

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank, Luke, Dredd and Mckinley

Masterlist link here

Price woke to an empty bed, which wouldn’t have normally bothered him at all, but that was before you.

He stretched, his hand finding the warmth you had left, he buried his face on your side of the pillow you shared most nights, the smell of your skin filled his head. He vaguely remembered you kissing him goodbye before you left to get back to your side of the base before everyone was fully awake. He could of happily gone back to sleep, but the sooner he got dressed the sooner he could be in your company again. As he got ready he thought about mentioning you two going on a date when back home, he was thinking about the places he could take you, trying to remember your favourite foods, he knew there wasn't much you didnt like! He remembered you liked the food he had cooked for you that time you came to stay for the weekend with Kyle a year ago, Price didnt like to think about that weekend very often, it had broken up your team, it made you into strangers torn apart, it was the start of a very bad year for all involved, a year he would rather put behind him, so he did or at least he tired.

**********

As he walked out into the main part of the base he couldn’t help scanning the huge bunker for your face, listening for your laugh. Which had to be his favourite sound, well that an when he had you in bed and did that thing you liked were he…

“John!”

He was caught of guard and pulled from his train of thought by Laswell calling him from across the base. She waved him over, he still took a few glances round looking for you, he would find you, he always did.

“Laswell, what can I do for you?”

“John, was starting to worry about you, it's 8am an I'm only just seeing you now?” Laswell cocked her eyebrow at him.

“Had a little lie in, needed it” he wasn’t lying.

Kate looked him up an down, he didn’t look tired if anything this was the best he had looked in a long time she had a sneaky suspicion a certain sergeant had something to do with it, but she kept that to herself. She just hoped that he knew what he was getting into.

“Fair enough, anyway we have a quick briefing later today with Colonel Shepherd, he just wants an update on things you know the drill” she started walking Price followed.

“No problem, who needs to be there, I’ll make sure to wrangle my lot” Price chucked wrangle was the perfect term.

“Just you will do, but if your guys can go meet Shepard’s team that would be great, little playdate” Kate laughed.

“Sure I’ll tell them to play nice”

Laswell smiled, Price looked distracted his mind was obviously somewhere else.

“Lost something John?” She knew what he was looking for, better yet who he was looking for.

“What? No…just wondering where my lot are actually, not checked in with them yet” he motioned for them to walk out onto the tarmac.

Laswell followed she had to hide the smirk, John Price was smitten.

As they walked out of the huge hanger doors, the hot sun in their eyes a yell came from over near the ATV’s. They both shot over a look in the direction it had come from.

Soap was soaked head to toe, his Mohawk flat to his head, jeans now a darker blue.

Where was his T-shirt Laswell thought? Before Price could question him, Kyle came running from behind one of the jeeps also missing his top and also soaked through!

“Haha where the hell is she?” Kyle was trying to catch his breath but his laughing made it difficult.

“Not a clue, but she’s messed me hair up!”

“Serves you right, you soaked her first! Hahaha” Kyle had set off laughing again.

Laswell spotted you first an instinctively pulled Price back a few steps as to not get caught in the crossfire.

You were ringing wet hair slicked back, white vest clingy to your chest, bad day not to wear a bra Laswell thought, but that was probably Soaps motive.

You launched the full bucket in the direction of the two topless men completely oblivious to your presence, in the commotion you grabbed two sponges hitting Kyle with one an Soap in the face with the other.

Before you could get away Soap grabbed you in a headlock pulling you to the now soaked ground a large puddle had formed, water splashed everywhere. You quickly gained the upper hand on soap an now had him in an armbar.

“This is what you get for being a perv! Tap out Mactavish”

“Not a chance lass, was worth it!! I’ll dry you off if you want!”

“Fat chance fairy liquid!”

As you two wrestled on the wet tarmac, Ghost grabbed the hose and started spraying you both like he was trying to break up a pair of fighting dogs, it didn’t stop either of you, if anything you got hold of each other even tighter, Kyle noticed Soap going slightly blue.

“RIGHT PACK IT IN!” Price’s voice boomed across the base causing you both to stop moving instantly.

“Let go of him Tank…” it was more a warning than a request. You did as you were told an released Soap from your grip, slapping him away when he tried to use you to push himself off the ground.

Kyle had gone silent looking at the ground, Soap looked to Ghost for help, who only sprayed him again in the face with the hose. You couldn’t meet Prices eyes so opted for the ground along with Kyle.

“What do you lot think this is a charity car wash?”

“We were just getting the truck clean an it’s so hot so we just…then Soap” Kyle started but was stopped by the ‘not now Kyle’ look from Laswell.

Price pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a loud sigh when he looked up he noticed your now see through top it caused the blood to rush down to his crotch, even though he was your Captain and you weren’t in the privacy of your little bubble where he could openly admire you he was still a man, your top clung to your wet skin, nipples hard from the slight chill from being soaked and the way you were biting your lip like you knew you were in trouble caused a fire in him, he almost wanted to bend you over his knee there and then showing your arse the palm of his hand. But that would be more paper work than it was worth, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Price pulled his eyes from you to look at Kyle and Soap who had apparently started this, Price didn’t know wether to scold him or thank him.

“Go dry off, you lot are going to meet Commander Graves and the Shadow company later and I need you all to behave, think that's possible?” Price glared at each of you. But his eyes remained on you and you could feel the embarrassment crawling over your skin.You felt like a child being told off at school, what made is worse was how he had be harsher on you now, since Soap and Ghost had caught you two in the showers the other night. He couldn’t be seen going soft on you.

Soap had been on the sly tormenting you about favouritism and how even if you threw a grenade into a civilian camp Price would give you a slap on the wrist but at the same time kiss you on the forehead. It was usually followed with Soap doing a terrible impression of him saying “it’s ok kiddo, I’ll make this all go away!” He knew it riled you up an you always gave him the reaction he wanted. Ghost told him to knock it off an that if he didn’t he would happily tell Price that he does a fantastic impression of him. You appreciated Ghost for that, but you had a feeling he thought something not too dissimilar, but he would never voice it he respected Price too much. Was it always going to be like this?

Laswell nodded you off, a silent get going before he has to repeat himself.

“You have 25 minutes an if you are not ready believe me I will come find you myself” Price watched as the 3 of you walked away.

“I'll go make sure the lads don't start again Cap” Ghost followed behind Soap and Kyle. You stalked off to your side of camp. Price watched you for a few seconds, he hated this, hated having to act this way but he was still you Captain and there was still a job to be done, but he made a mental note to make it up to you later. He also wasn't blind to the look Laswell was giving him.

********

The meeting with Graves and the Shadows had gone ok, Graves seemed nice enough. You and Rudy had exchanged a few side glances at each other, but other than that all seemed good. It was now the early evening the sun setting over the base as you all gathered outside under a canopy, getting acquainted. Kyle spent most of the evening talking football with one of the shadows who was an Aston Villa fan so you didn't have him to talk to, Soap and Ghost were listening to Graves talk about the last ‘Assignment’ he had been on. Rudy had Alejandro and every now and again you caught a glimpse of something between them a slight smile or wink, it gave you butterflies. You liked the idea that they had each other and if your theory was right and they did, you wondered how they made it work the Colonel and his second in command?

“Tank? Can I see you for a minute?” Price was stood just outside the canopy you were all gathered under. Most of the chatting had stopped and all eyes were on you now as you nodded making your way over to your Captain who had started walking ahead you followed. As you passed him Alejandro gave you a soft smile.

It felt like you had been walking for ages in silence, the sky now an inky blue, you were well out into the desert, still on the base but far enough that no one could see or hear you. Great you thought no one to hear you getting told off.

Price stopped in front of two large rocks, he motioned you to sit down on one and he took the other, he didn't face you instead faced forward. As you sat down you noticed he was tapping his leg, something you had only seen him do when he was anxious which was never.

“Im sorry” Price blurted out.

“What for?”

“Shouting at you like that, I shouldn’t have…there was no need I just…”

“It’s ok, to be a fair we were acting like kids, Soap started it though Kyle told him not to, but he did it anyway and..”

Price cocked his eyebrow at you? You sighed realising you sounded like a kid now telling tales.

“It's fine really, you have to be harsh on me or else it is favouritism” you kicked the dirt under your feet.

“I don't want to be harsh on you Tank, I hate it I really do, that's why I think we should just come clean about us” Price looked up into the dark blue sky now littered with little lights. You looked at him shocked come clean? Was he serious? You jumped up and started to pace.

“You must be mad! Are you joking? Please say you are joking! They will split us up, I'll get put back with Squad 8 and I’m not going back to that shit show! Dredd was the only good thing about it at least I could trust her! But no John I'm not doing that sorry, I'll take all the bollockings you can dish out, I'm not leaving the 141 , not again no…” You could feel the slight tinge of panic in you chest and Price could hear it in your voice. He stood up stopping you by the shoulders.

“Listen to me, I won't let that happen, never ever...I mean come clean to Laswell, Kyle so those closest to us know about us, so I don’t have to be so harsh, they will just have to accept the fact your my favourite” He gave you that eye-crinkling smile that slowed your heart rate slow down. He was right Kyle deserved to know.

“Yeh your right” you looped your arms around his waist burying your face into his chest, he smelt of warm sand, tobacco and kerosene. Price looked down at the top of your head looping his big arms around you in return.

“You know when I was younger, I wasn't afraid of anything, I didn't have the slightest fear of dying, no reason for it. I thought that if I died that was fine by me, I’ve come close a few times believe me Kid, but then I met you and I started to think that, I wanted to survive to live and for the first time, the idea of death scared me” Price looked up into the now pitch black sky.

“What I'm trying to say is this what we have found, I want to keep it safe, but I also don't want to smother it by keeping it hidden, we can do this, others have made it work. Listen I’ve been an idiot before and it cost me a year without you, don't think I could do that again so I want you right next to me where you belong and if that means a few select people know the score then so be it, they will find out anyway when they realise we have the same postcode and the kids come out with my eyes and your hair!” He was laughing now and it seemed to echo into the night.

You were lost for words, too stunned to speak. Kids? Same postcode? Who was this man? Price suddenly felt your silence and wonder had he said too much?

“Ermmm did I go to far with the whole kids and same postcode?”

You looked up at him a little smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“A little, but your eyes? I wouldn’t mind that actually, but my nose…” you winked at him. Price sighed with relief letting out a little chuckle.

“Yeh your nose” he leant forward giving you a kiss. He glanced back towards the base.

“We had better head back before they send out a search party, bet they think your getting a right telling off!” Price draped his arm over your shoulder and started to walk back.

“More like a right good seeing to!” You elbowed him in the ribs giving him a comical wink. He pretended to hold this side laughing.

“That can be arranged? My room lets say about 2am?”

“Yes Sir!” You saluted him as you looped your arm around him.

“By the way what did you mean when you said ‘others have made it work’?”

“Ohh erm well don’t know if you’ve noticed but Alejandro and Rudy are pretty close who do you think told me to bring you out here tonight to talk?” Price looked out across the horizon.

“Ohhhhhh I had noticed it actually, well if a Colonel and a second in command can make it work then so can a Captain and a Sergeant”

As you both walked back to base linked into eachother Price felt like all his christmases had come at once, you just needed to get through this mission then you could really start making plans, he still needed to ask you out on that date.

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ssaeri · 1 year

Text

we fall to ashes

☆ tags: alex x gn!reader, he finds something that he never expected to see on your farm, this was going to be angst with an angst ending, but then my sister begged me to not write a sad ending, so have this relieving happy ending instead, LOTS of alex spoilers! ☆

Alex stretches his arms over his head and breathes in deep. In the distance, he hears chickens screaming—a sure sign that he's getting closer to your farm. The walk from his house isn't short, but while his grandparents would complain about the distance, he finds it ideal for cooling down after his harder work-outs. And he gets to see you at the end? He'd say that's a winner winner chicken dinner situation...out of earshot from your coop, at least.

"Hey there! Evelyn's boy!" Pam calls from his right.

He slows to a stop and waves. She sits in the driver seat of her newly repaired bus, window fully open, and takes another swig from her Joja Cola. Immediately, her face scrunches.

"Mornin', Pam!" he yells back. "How's that alcohol detox going for you?"

"Awful." She smacks her lips and holds the can up to her eyes, searching the ingredients for what makes it so fucking nasty. You often joke that it's the bitter taste of capitalism. "I could go for something stronger in this heat. You think the farmer has an extra glass of pale ale?"

Alex's smile tightens. Ever since Pam and Penny's trailer turned into an actual house, Pam's been doing her best to break old habits and he's glad for it—he can finally walk by her without the reflexive gag and hurried steps. You telling me I stink? she used to ask, angry in her drunken stupor, until she remembered why he showed up on his grandparents' steps nearly two decades ago.

She must read it in his expression now because she waves him off with a roll of her eyes. "I'm kidding, kid. Tell 'em I said hi. They're the only one who takes this damn bus anyway. I might as well take a nap." She slides sunglasses onto her face and reclines her chair until he can't see her anymore. "If I'm still here by the time you go home, wake me up."

Classic Pam, he thinks as he continues to your farm. Your dog is already running from the front door to greet him, panting and barking and disturbing your horse's peace.

"Come on, buddy," he laughs, shooing your dog until he can push open the gate. "I was supposed to surprise them."

Alex scratches your horse's ear as he passes its stable. Grape vines twist and sag on the trellises you've set up for the season, the structures nearly bursting with fruit, and he makes a mental note to stop by tomorrow to help with the harvesting. Maybe it could substitute for a work-out. He's helped you ship boxes of produce before and wondered how ripped he'd be after a month of your lifestyle. Between the trellises, the melons are just starting to come in. He doesn't know how long it takes for them to ripen, only that they taste really good when you drop off a basket for his grandma.

He calls out your name. Not in the fields, not in the pasture. Your new greenhouse, maybe? You were muttering something about ancient fruit last night. Or the mushroom cave, something he still can't believe is a feature on your farm. If Demetrius could add that, maybe Alex could talk you into installing an outdoor lifting station.

He walks past your workbench and active machines...

...and walks backwards again, hoping that his eyes are deceiving him. Crystalariums reproducing diamonds to sell, charcoal kilns working double time for enough coal, bone mills churning out fertilizer, geode crushers crunching rocks into pebbles, furnaces roaring as they smelt ores into bars—and right on top of the furthest furnace sits a wrapped bundle he's only seen in his (second to) worst nightmares.

He hears your content humming now, somewhere in the main farmhouse. Under normal circumstances, he would've called it cute, but the sound rings mockingly in his ears as he approaches the darkened flowers. A wilted bouquet. Fuck.

"Oh, hey there!" Alex called out as you got closer. He tossed his ever-present gridball into the air. "You here to catch fish again? I think you can find salmon in the river this time of year. At least that's what I heard."

Once you came to a stop in front of him, you shook your head, hands still behind your back. "I'm not fishing today," you said. "I actually wanted to give you something."

"Yeah?" His lips quirked into a grin. Another toss into the air. "Wouldn't happen to be a Salmon Dinner with extra lemon, would it? Those are one of my favorites, but I can never catch any salmon myself. Another egg would be cool, too. I've been adding your weekly deliveries to my workout meals."

You only shifted from one foot to the other, unable to take your eyes off his shoes, and a part of him faltered. You weren't intimidated by him, were you? Ever since you found him crying on the beach, he had been a little more flirtatious than usual, layering on the teasing and showing off. Maybe he came on too strong. Haley always told him that subtlety wasn't his strong suit. The grip on his gridball changed as he tossed it higher.

"You okay there? Did I do something...wait, this is—ow!"

The ball bounced off his head and landed in the grass, but he couldn't care less. He pointed to the bouquet in your hands. Not a regular bouquet, but the Bouquet made to order by Pierre. In a place as small as Pelican Town, there was no need for Pierre to have it in constant stock, so when the signature blooms made the rare appearance, they attracted everyone's eyes.

"...you want to get more serious?" he asked, incredulous.

Something in your expression changed, and you drew the flowers back to your chest. "Oh, sorry, did you not?" You gave him a wide smile, already stepping away. "I must've read the signs wrong. My mistake."

"No! That's not—I mean, you read the signs correctly. I, uh, I feel the same way." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face flush. "So I guess we're together now? Should I be asking you out on a date or something? Or wait, are you asking me out on a date? How does this work?"

You laughed, a genuine sound this time. "We can continue the way we were before."

And so you did, but some things changed for sure. He could hold your hand now as you ran errands around the town, carrying half of the gifts you handed out to the townspeople. He could kiss you goodbye at his door in the evenings, though George cleared his throat loudly every time. Alex remembered making some snide comment about his grandpa, who yelled out a gruff I heard that! before being shushed by Evelyn. When It Howls in the Rain was being shown at the town theater, you bribed him to a screening with the promise of Stardrop Sorbet, but as much as he loved the treat, he would've gone anyway—it was one of his favorite movies with one of his favorite people. Good thing he'd seen it before because he spent most of the time staring at your side profile, wondering when he could finally go pro and have you stare at him on a screen.

Your dog nips at his fingers. He pets it absently. He thought everything was going fine between the two of you. Just yesterday, you came over and had dinner with him and his grandparents. You told them about your mining adventures in the Skull Caverns and, to his horror, showed off your old stitches from Harvey. (George chided your reckless behavior and gave old-timey advice that you nodded along to.) You talked about the new farm you're setting up at Ginger Island—Ancient Fruit wine all year! you told them excitedly. It's a farmer's heaven!—and the Beach Resort you're trying to restore. (Evelyn hummed at your energy, asking rapid-fire questions about the flora there.) You even promised to bring over a season's worth of eggs and leeks as soon as you got your hands on them. (Alex's mind flashed to the old mariner and the mermaid's pendant he could see hanging around your neck in the future.)

So why is a wilted bouquet sitting here, right on top of your furnaces?

No point in guessing when he can just find out the answer right from the source. He takes the flowers and goes to your door, knocking twice. It opens before he has time to second guess his choice.

"Alex! I didn't know you were coming over," you say, beaming at him. He wants to immortalize this version of you: face full of dirt smudges and t-shirt collar soaked through with sweat, yet glowing in your element. Until your eyes drop to his hands. "Oh, that's..."

He sets his jaw. "Can I come in and talk?"

Your expression falters further at his cold tone, but you step back and lead him to the living room. Your dog trots in and settles by the TV, head on its paws, watching with blank eyes. Alex sits in his usual spot and you yours, and suddenly he hates how familiar he is with your space.

It's still silent.

You clear your throat. "So," you start, wiping your palms on your jeans. A nervous tick he knows well. "What did you want to talk about?"

He puts the bouquet on the coffee table between you.

"Right." You pause, likely waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything. "Alex, can you at least be less mean about this? I feel like you owe me that much after all this time together." He says nothing. "Like, tell me what's wrong instead of sitting here stone-faced. Things were okay. Why are you breaking up with me—"

"Why am I breaking up with you?" He barks a laugh. "Baby, I found this outside on your furnace! I'm not going to beg for you to stay, but what the hell is this?"

Your forehead furrows. "What? I wouldn't."

"If it's not yours and it's not mine, then whose is it?"

"I don't know! Alex, I wouldn't—I never even thought about breaking up," you insist. "Why would I lie about that?"

After scrutinizing your stricken expression, his relief comes in waves. He sinks into your couch, hands rubbing at his face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just—" He laughs again, the sound mostly air. "Yoba, that scared me. If someone left this here as a prank, I'm hunting them down tonight." He lifts his head to look at you and opens his arms. "Can you come over here?"

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm gross."

"You could be playing in mud with your pigs, and I'd still jump in."

With a roll of your eyes, you hop over to curl into his side and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You stink, but so does he after a good workout. Now that he thinks about it, he's still in his gym clothes.

"You scared me, too," you tell him, gaze trained on the table. "Not the best thing to see on a Friday afternoon. But now I want to know whose this is. Did you check it for clues?"

"Didn't bother. Thought it was yours." His arm around your waist tightens as you lean forward. "Does it matter?"

But that doesn't stop you. You have the bouquet in your lap now, prying at the blackened ribbon and wrapping. "Look at this," you say, holding it between two fingers. "The ribbon isn't blue, and Pierre always uses blue. The wrap is pretty much disintegrated, but this corner—he always puts his store brand." You suck in a breath. "Oh, duh! Where did you say you found this?"

"The furnaces right outside by the workbench."

"Okay, so mystery solved. This is mine, but not in the way you think."

He raises an eyebrow. "Explain. Don't say you're breaking up with a secret partner because I don't think I can handle a second shock right now."

"I made a wildflower bouquet to put on Grandpa's grave a few days ago, but I totally forgot where I put it, so I made a second one. This one must've been the one I misplaced."

He blinks. "How the hell did you not notice it since?"

"I came back from Ginger Island yesterday and went to sleep right after dinner! The flowers must've wilted from the furnace heat."

"You," he says slowly, pinching your cheek and ignoring your squeak, "are the absolute worst. I can't believe you nearly broke my heart and it turned out to be a whoopsie."

#stardew x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #sdv alex x reader #stardew x farmer #stardew valley x farmer #sdv x farmer #sdv alex x farmer #stardew valley scenarios #sdv scenarios #sdv alex scenarios #stardew scenarios #saeri writes;

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bitethedustfools · 3 months

Text

TWST story idea (8)

Inspired by a certain beast tamer Yuu post from a long time ago. Can't remember the name, sorry.

Yuu got called a beast tamer, but the only beast they have is Grim. Comparing to Kalim, who has a whole zoo, and Rook the Hunter, who has tendencies to attract animals, as well as Riddle with his hedgehogs and flamingos, the title beast tamer should have been handed to either three of them instead of Yuu.

It was a joke. Yuu knew it the moment Crowley called them a beast tamer, perhaps to flatter them into accepting a job or something, but no matter, Yuu is a joke in everyone's eyes.

Yuu is getting sick of getting asked if they have any animals or why they are called a beast tamer and so on. They don't know how to answer those, even if they do, it's not like it's going to improve their situation anyway.

Pissed off and feeling very petty, Yuu decided to tackle this the only way they know how. All those games are not for nothing, and Yuu ks going to put it to good use. Yuu is prepared for this. The time has come, and Yuu will not stand still when they are questioned again.

Yuu is gonna catch 'em all!

Yuu immediately goes on an adventure to snatch some monsters in the wilderness, and what do you know? Yuu is really a beast tamer. The monsters they brought home speak volumes.

"What's that? Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the purring of my gigantic chimera right next to me. Simply put, f*ck off!"

"How did I find Cerberus? I rowed myself to the underworld, you f*cker! Don't you dare call him fake! Go eat him, Cerby!"

"Oh damn. My phoenix set someone on fire. Hey, hey! It's going to be alright, I heard the phoenix is a bird of rebirth. You're going to be fine."

"Yes, I have a griffin, yes, I have a unicorn, a pegasus, a basilisk, and also yes, I have a bunch of normal animals too. You know what I don't have? Thaumarks. Pay up, b*tch. I need to feed my babies."

It goes without fail that a different beast will accompany Yuu and Grim to class, and due to this, it's not that easy to approach Yuu anymore. The beasts are effective bodyguards. There are no more jokes about a beast tamer; Yuu is the real deal now.

The boys could go deal with school and overblots; Yuu is gonna do the equivalent of farm life in the ramshackle dorm.

A different outlook would be instead of taming beasts, Yuu tamed people instead. Yuu is getting sick of these rude people so they decided to make the bullies their 'pet'.

Savanaclaw is the first victim since most unruly and undisciplined students came from here. Since this is a dorm filled with beastmen, naturally, power rules the weak is a norm.

Yuu did something that straight-up made the Savanaclaw students docile and obedient through incredible violence, harsh discipline, and volcano-like anger. The students that followed Yuu were either full of simps or simply out of fear or respect.

Second would be Diasomnia and Yuu obtain them without lifting a finger, believe it or not. Malleus is already wrapped around Yuu's finger since the beginning, if the respected housewarden and heir to the Briar Valley is like this, it only prompted the others to follow Yuu as well. They will treat Yuu like royalty. Simply put, Yuu got the whole package without asking.

…

Couldn't decide who's next. My brain ain't braining anymore. For those who wish to use the prompt, do tag me please. I want to read.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst yuu #writing prompt #everyone loves yuu #my attempts for crack is horrendous #my fellow writers please make it top tier comedy #I lack happiness #allow me to indulge endorphins

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cosmicstarlatte · 11 months

Text

Customer Service (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

They try contacting customer service. 🤷‍♂️

»Characters: Demon Bros

»Tags: Certified Shitpost™️, Pathetic Lucifer is my favorite Lucifer

»Notes: It's been a while since I've done a shitpost bulleted fic so ♡reblogs♡ are appreciated. I've had this wip since March apparently? 💀

Lucifer:

A hand on his hip and the phone in the other

This man means business

"Don't talk to me, I'm trying to keep my level of anger"

Held onto his anger for two hours waiting for the next agent

The annoying hold music only fueled him

Tried to be reasonable with the agent when he got patched through

But they were new

"Look, just get me your manager."

Waited another half hour for them

The problem got fixed rather quickly actually

smirked in satisfaction...Lucifer always wins.

If only he noticed the two stuck pages in the manual, he would've not wasted his morning

Mammon:

If he wasn't broke he would've paid someone else to make the call

Waited for an hour but it felt like eternity

"Yeah ain't there a satisfaction guarantee on this anyway!? The customers always right!"

Tried to get a replacement for his earbuds

And a refund while he was at it

Scammy? What?? Nooo....

"They fell in the wash! It's not my fault! Did I get insurance? Who has the money for that?"

Him and the agent went back and forth for a while

The agent finally caved and promised to replace the earbuds

"Finally! Ya better send 'em quick! -click-"

...

He realized he never gave the agent his address & had to start the process all over again

Levi:

Lol

Tried online chat but his specific issue needed a real agent because...of course it would

Tried to pay one of his brothers to make the call for him

They rather stab themselves or wage war against Diavolo than call customer service

Took anxiety medication before trying to call

Waited three hours on hold but played something soothing in the meantime

helloooo ruri and friends crossing

He stopped when he heard the hold music stop

"Hello thank you for calling Akuz-"

click

"It's not that important."

Satan:

This is how a pro does it.jpg

Drank his little coffee and ate his fresh little pastry

See, he set an alarm to call customer service right when they open their lines

Had the number typed and ready to go with a press

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP

Finally!

-dialing tone-

"Hello. Your wait time is 2 hours and-"

...

Slammed his phone on the floor and it broke

Went to go fight the company in person

His issue got fixed

The company had to tighten their security after this incident

Asmo:

Is that one lucky demon that happens to get patched through quickly

He was having problems with his devilgram account verification

Just as he started speaking about his issue the agent freaked out

Turns out they were a huge fan and could automatically tell it was the REAL™️ Asmo speaking

The issue got fixed and Asmo stayed talking with the agent because they sounded really cute

One thing led to another and...it went from a customer service hotline to a phone sex one real quick

This always happens when he calls customer service akskjfksls

Beel:

Collected all the snacks he had

Even cooked an entire feast

He needed everything he could get before making the dreaded call

After an hour of waiting (and barely any snacks left) he finally got to an agent!

It was a pleasant experience for both sides

Beel is getting sent replacements for his shoes plus a discount voucher for his next purchase

güd boi™️ as usual

Belphie:

Almost fell asleep while waiting

The music soothed him, they had classical music playing

He's not really sure how long he waited if he's being honest

When he finally got to the agent he sounded so weak the agent was concerned

"Mm? No I'm always like ...losing... consciousness ...it's normal...zzz..."

The agent was still so concerned they sent someone to the HOL to check on him

Beel ended up making the call for him

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Devil-Mart⭐︱Waffle House

#HIS OWN DADDY put me on this earth to bless everyone with pathetic lucifer AMEN #shitpostcifer #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shitpost #obey me crack #obey me humor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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j-l-kepler · 4 days

Text

I Turned My BG3 Tavs into Fake Origin Characters

CUZ NOBODY'S STOPPED ME YET

So here I was, scrolling through the BG3 tag when I come across a fantastic BG3 Template made by the extraordinary @dvgsart! Couldn't mcfreakin' help myself, I tell you.

So I took my 5 active non-Durge playthroughs (3 of which are 2-Tav saves) and slapped them in! Had a blast doing this, I tell you. All the beautiful Tavs I keep seeing just make me wanna gush about my own silly Tavs. Life's too short to not have fun.

[Putting the ART and everything below the cut because this is gonna be loooooong and y'all should get to opt out]

Yeah okay maybe I've written Companion Guides for 6/7 of these guys. I've had a lot of time at work lately, okay.

I call these guys the Stacked Seven because all of them have massive badonkadonks and I'm in desperate need of a new hobby. I can't help the fact drawing tits is very fun and I am horrendously bisexual.

ANYWAY lil bit of preamble you can skip -- I based their stats and weapons on what they'd be as Companions or Origin runs, not what their actual in-game stats are. Romantic Partners / Besties / Weapons are who and what they'd probably default to if they were just in ya party. I also put them in their Companion fits, not their in-game fits. AIGHT LET'S KICK IT OFF, IN ORDER

Eckhart Markolac

The Infernal Twins

Ayyy it's my guy, you might've seen my guy before! We're starting off in familiar territory. Also he's the only twunk here. RIP.

Eckhart is one roguish half of the whole known as the infamous Markolac Twins. He and his sister Emerleigh have spent years of their lives dedicated to paying off a debt they owe to the Undercellar through smuggling, cons and other life-threatening crimes. Now that the Nautiloid has picked them up and dumped them a long ways away from the Gate, he's faced with the consequences of his actions and the kind of freedom he never expected to grasp in his lifetime.

Eckhart shares a companion quest with Emerleigh - get these tadpoles outta their skulls and get back to Baldur's Gate! But will he return to face his debtor, go on the run for the rest of his life, or forsake a future he doesn't think he's good enough for?

For those who haven't met my angst machine of a rogue, Eckhart is a sarcastic, witty and vaguely sleazy guy who's basically your classic rogue. He comes complete with a detached attitude, lower (but not too low) moral standards, and a heart of gold under layers and layers of self sabotage and emotional dysfunction. He's just bad at hiding it.

Eck and Em would be recruited at the exact same time, and their tadpoles would make it so they cannot live for very long without the other. How? Why? Because I don't wanna write a whole freaking branch where one of the twins dies and the other just has to deal with that. Game branch logic is HARD TO WRITE, DAMN YOU.

Emerleigh Markolac

The Infernal Twins

Heyyy girl, it's Em, it's my girl!

Emerleigh is one bardic half of the whole known as the infamous Markolac Twins. She and her brother Eckhart have spent years of their lives dedicated to paying off a debt they owe to the Undercellar through smuggling, cons and other life-threatening crimes. Now that the Nautiloid has picked them up and dumped them a long ways away from the Gate, she's more determined than ever to hold onto this newfound freedom... more terrified of returning than she ever thought she could be.

Emerleigh shares a companion quest with Eckhart - get these tadpoles outta their skulls and get back to Baldur's Gate! But will she return to face her debtor, go on the run for the rest of her life, or deny herself the future she so desperately wants for her and her brother?

If you haven't met Em, she's your classic dramatic bard who speaks in poetry, prose and academia! She's friendly, mischievous, and has so so so many things she hasn't given herself the space to contend with emotionally. She's a pretty lady used to having a perfect mask demanded of her, craving a chance to speak bluntly and openly instead of wrapping herself up in layers upon layers of what other people want from her.

I've already written plenty about Em and Eck. The twins' stories are very interconnected, with the quest playing out the same beats from the perspective of whichever twin the player is playing/romancing/keeping in their party.

Canary Highfall

Child of Light

My other major 2-Tav playthrough I have yet to mention, and the first modded class I've played!

Canary's life has been dedicated to the pursuit of truth -- consequences be damned. Reuniting with her possessive estranged father has caused a lot of roadblocks for her, but her divine heritage won't stop her from her latest fascination: Mind Flayers. Specifically, the strange tadpole specimen she intercepted in her father's study. Her pursuits, assisted by her bodyguard and trusted friend Leryk, have resulted in the two of them playing host to those very same tadpoles! The questions are piling up, with one weighing heaviest on her mind: why did her father of all people have this specimen to begin with? And what does that mean for her and Leryk?

Canary's quest is separate from Leryk, as the first part of her companion quest is finding him. If the player completes the grove or tries to move to the next region without him while keeping Canary in the party or at camp, he'll just show up at their camp. They're a package deal from Act 2 onwards, so the player can either dismiss them both or keep them both. She's not going anywhere without her closest friend!

Canary is a feverously academic person with a focus on abnormal biology. Her noble position and all the restrictions that come with it are a recent development in her life, and one she only engages with for the resources it affords her when possible. She's extremely distrustful of authority and how nobility has a chokehold on academia, so finding out her estranged father is a hyper-paranoid aasimar descended from Lathander himself doesn't exactly help her faith in higher powers -- be they the divine or the political. She's a bit of a smartass and gets wrapped up in what she's doing so completely that she often doesn't consider the consequences. Despite her outward confidence, it's very easy to get her to start rambling or turn her into an absolute mess. Though she hates when Leryk treats her like a princess, she trusts him with her life and would do just about anything for him.

With Canary, I liked the idea of a Companion with a specific interest in Mind Flayers and a personal stake in the conspiracy much like Wyll does. She wouldn't be able to tell the player anything Halsin can't already say in much more detail since she hasn't made a lot of headway in her tadpole-specific research, though.

Leryk Coppperlot

Knight of the Dawn

He's the only one of my active saves that has a skin tone other than "human". Good job, Keps.

Leryk's life hasn't been very long so far, but very little of it has been uneventful until recently. Saved from his life as a ruthless mercenary at the age of 19, he's devoted himself to the Son of Lathander. When his savior's recently-discovered estranged daughter was placed in his care, Leryk then devoted his life to her. Duty blossomed into friendship, but Leryk's blind faith in Canary's father persists despite what Canary has to say about it. Now that they've both been tadpoled and whisked far away from the safety of the Gate, Leryk is determined to get Canary home no matter the cost. But can he face the horrific truth Canary is on the cusp of uncovering...? And what about the truths she's been hiding from him?

Leryk has that frantic "rookie soldier" energy. He's extremely combat-experienced, but he's terrible at wrangling in Canary since he's very easy to sway through enthusiasm alone. He's blindly devoted to Canary and even moreso to her father, but otherwise can be quite shrewd and cautious of others. Misjudging one's character used to mean death for him, and he learned that when his old mentor tried to turn him in for a bounty on his head. Leryk, despite this, has learned a lot from the kindness afforded to him and does his best to repay it. "Caution, but not discourtesy" is his motto.

Leryk's quest is separate from Canary, as the first part of his companion quest is finding her. If the player completes the grove or tries to move to the next region without her, she'll just show up at their camp. Since they're a package deal Act 2 onwards, the player can either dismiss them both or keep them both. Canary's his best friend and he is literally her bodyguard, after all.

I love devoted bodyguards. I love him so much. I like the idea of some Companions knowing each other or having pre-existing relationships. You know he's having a panic attack and is going to find her just chilling in the Goblin Camp like it's no big deal.

Briar Lockren

The Weary Ranger

okay so Briar was actually a fan companion BEFORE she was a Tav. I recently restarted her run in a 2-Tav where the other Tav is actually Default Dark Urge because this girl's perception proficiency is worthless if she hasn't slept enough. And she never sleeps enough.

After three years of wandering the Sword Coast, Briar has settled in Cloak Wood in hopes of outrunning her terrible luck. Her past involvement with one of Cyric's cults has left her branded with supernatural-levels of misfortune and nightmares plaguing her every time she falls asleep. She's basically a walking-talking tempest. Having fallen in and out of the Feywild and caused towns to burn without her say, Briar thought being picked up by the Nautiloid was simply another instance of her shit luck. So imagine her surprise when she got the first nightmare-free rest in three years. Free from the eyes of the one who cursed her, Briar's luck has suddenly changed.

Briar is a somewhat ditsy individual prone to taking inopportune naps just about anywhere. Originally from Luskan, Briar's time wandering and falling into ridiculously terrible situations has made her a pretty difficult person to rattle. She's kind and gentle despite all she's suffered, but blames herself for wandering around the way she does and causing trouble (settling down with her luck is impossible). Her passivity is what led to her situation, however, as the one who cursed her was her childhood friend-turned cult leader-turned Chosen of Cyric-turned ex-boyfriend. It's messy. Briar's very used to messy life situations.

Briar's probably my most developed Tav in terms of a Companion story since she was originally written to be one. I also will acknowledge her being half-drow but not LOOKING half-drow is partly due to my own personal cowardice, but it's also the result of her complicated heritage. Lotta drow in Luskan. The fact she doesn't look like her full-drow father should tip you off as to why he might not have especially liked his child, therefore neglecting her and giving her very few chances to adopt the cult's teachings for herself. Kinda hard to teach a child to become a religious narcissist when you keep telling her she's just inherently inferior.

Scarlet

The Scarlet Scourge

My longest-lived Tav... heeeey girl, hiiii~ I'm probably gonna play her in a campaign one of these days. Siiigh.

The Scarlet Scourge strikes fear into the hearts of the greedy aristocrats that call Baldur's Gate home. A street urchin whose life was ruined time and time again by those who have far too much money, Scarlet's dedicated her life to taking from those who won't miss it and giving to those who need it. But Scarlet's been stopping the plans of the corrupt for a long time, and it all began with some dangerous blueprints. Blueprints she quite literally carries within her soul. Now that she's crashed far beyond the anonymity the Gates afford her, the one she stole the plans from has a chance to find her all over again.

Scarlet is a highly confident and highly competent master thief. She takes great pride in her ingenuity and artificing skill, and won't let you forget it. She's fiercely independent and keeps people at a distance, even hiding her real name from those she gets close to. However, like every Robin Hood figure, she revels in her legend and genuinely adores the people she does it for. Scarlet may act arrogant, but she has the skill to back up her confidence and risks her life for altruism. Get her in front of a gadget, however, and her brain goes a mile a minute. (She's going to be fucking pissed when she sees how cool the Steel Defenders are and the awful ways they're being utilized)

Who doesn't love a Phantom Thief? I think she and Wyll would absolutely be besties if they didn't already know each other before the events of the game - they both love the people of Baldur's Gate, have super hero names, and are archetypes of a class they don't belong to (Wyll is a Paladin in a Warlock's body while Scarlet is a Rogue in an Artificer's body).

Rohku Eddervyn

The Oathbroken

My OTHER longest-lived Tav, and the oldest character of my active Tavs. He's the oldest of them as well in terms of character age.

Rohku has been given many titles over the years, but none of which he's found suit him. After awakening to his Oath in the wake of a Sharran attack during his time as an Acolyte, Rohku was once known as The Sun of the Seventh Dawn for reasons he'll spare you for now. But years of tracking down and slaughtering Dark Justiciars began to take their toll. When grief and rage gave way to emptiness, he understood the pull of Shar. Unable to hunt down those he now saw as victims, his Oath shattered. But his devotion remains. Now, as he searches for new meaning under the Moonmaiden's gaze, he tracks down an artifact said to have fallen into Sharran hands...

Rohku is a mature and quiet man, jaded by the world around him. He's tired of battles between good and evil, and now lives for what is kind -- in any form that takes. He's patient with people and thinks very little of what others think of him. His wisdom and experiences make him an excellent leader, and an even better listener. He often chooses to resolve conflict through his words rather than his blade, but his deadpan demeanor makes that difficult. But he can handle that when it's his own ass on the line. But Zweihanders aren't shields.

Rohku was the first masculine character I played in BG3 and I fell in love. He's so tired and sweet. He's kind of Halsin-esque in that he was thrust into leadership without his say and acts as a calming presence for those he makes camp with. And big. He's a big boy.

Hee hee hee self call-out time! Yes I have noticed 3 of them have black hair, 3 of them are tieflings, 5 have a different hair color streaked in there (with 2 of them specifically graying at a young age), and only 1 of them is above the age of 30. Because I Am A Coward. Pobody's Nerfect.

Hope you kinda enjoyed my little Tav sound-off! If you have questions about them or wanna see more of them or, heck, even draw or write about them yourself, go craaaazy! I don't know how much of these ideas are, like, solidified. IDK I'm still playing around with them.

God I put too much work into these. I can't believe I do fan fiction now. Wild.

#bg3 #art #bg3 tav #bg3 art #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fan companion #bg3 eckhart #bg3 emerleigh #bg3 canary #bg3 briar #bg3 leryk #bg3 rohku #bg3 scarlet #bg3 tavs #hee hee hee i had so much fun

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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SHIT! You won't believe what came to my mind! I really want you to write aemond/reader or aegon/reader (whatever you like, who do you like better) BUT with dynamics like in the cartoon the swan princess! you know, something based on that song… I think it's called "this is my idea". where the reader is a lady who comes to the red castle every summer as a child, and all the children have a little rivalry, and then it turns out that she is engaged to one of the princes …. well, just listen to this song and I think you will understand what I mean, I'm bad at formulating thoughts, sorry I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG but it's literally tearing me apart

AH I WATCHED THE VIDEO AND ITS SO CUTE. So I did this with more politics, adventurous targvelaryon babies and of course shit head aegon. No YOU tore me apart anon. Bottom of me heart hope you enjoyed it, pebble throwing and all. Thanks for the request, keep ‘em coming folx

Proposals? Not my idea.

Tags: Childish ass rivalry, Aegon is actually a sad baby, everyone else is tired of the idiot, Celtigars rule #TEAMBLACKSTANNIES, enemies to lovers, time skips galore, inspired by the swan Princess

Viserys sat with an annoyed look on his face. Rhaenyra to his right, Alicent on the left The tension was aggravating his already throbbing head. His lady wife and Otto had called the meeting, disturbing the king from his building.

Criston Cole stood by the door, shooting a blank look to the regent. Beesbury, Wylde, Strong, Lannister, and Grand Maester Mellos sat around the table. With a sigh Viserys put his golden orb into the slot, opening the meeting. He inquired impatiently, “And what is this meeting so very important to be called for?”

Alicent’s lips opened but Otto butted in, “The concern of Prince Aegon’s betrothal.”

Viserys guffawed, “Is he not to be wed to Helaena?”

Silence amplified by wide eyes ensued. Rhaenyra stifled laughter behind her hand. Alicent softly began, “My king. Aegon has…refused the betrothal. He- our son claims he will not fulfill his duty.” Viserys groaned aloud, his body was starting to ache at the stiff chair.

Otto piped in, “We have tried everything but he refuses to bed her if they are to be in union. We called this meeting to consider alternate options.”

Tyland Lannister shared a look with Lord Wylde. Rhaenyra snarked, “Marry him to a Lyseni whore then. Valyrian blood for the line and whores are all my half-brother goes for anyway.” Harrold harrumphed in disagreement. Otto barred his daughters arm when Alicent snapped, “Do not speak of my son that way! Ask your dear Daemon about pillow houses!”

Rhaenyra grinned like a cat, turning icy eyes onto her father. Tyland Lannister proposed, “Why not look at the Celtigars? They are a house of Old Valyria and quite wealthy. Lord Bartimos has a lovely grand daughter of twelve-and-ten from what I have heard.”

Multitudes of voices spoke up, questioning about the great houses or a union with Dorne.

Viserys, quite done with it all, slammed his palm on the table. He declared, “Send a raven to Lord Bartimos to bring the girl. Helaena will be betrothed to Aemond, he seems to be fond of the child. My word is final.”

Otto raised a brow, choosing to remain silent. Alicent’s face was wrought with concern. She hoped this young she-crab retained nothing of her families sour disposition.

A fortnight later

Your grandfather had been lecturing you on the rules and etiquette of court in the Red Keep. You stared blankly as Bartimos waved his wrinkled hands around, chiding you to remember your upbringing and lessons.

He pinched your chin softly, boring into your eyes. Lord Celtigar gruffed, “If you can survive the Sea Lord of Braavos then take that and guard yourself and intentions by the thousands.” You replied, “They are a nest of Dragons, I can get that much.”

He huffed a laugh and released you, eyeing the Red Keep beckoning the family across the Blackwater Bay. Bartimos braced himself on the side of the ship, breathing in the air. He grumbled, “Your potential betrothed is a bit of a…grasping chap.” You scoffed and bit out, “How so grandfather?”

“Drinks and whores, any serving girl in sight they tell me.”

Your shoulders fell. Still being a princess would be much more palatable than old Lord Crabb. His second lady wife died in the birthing bed and you were offered on a silver platter until the Hand’s raven came in. You didn’t care if the dragon prince was a fool, you’d find other things to do. Squeezing out heirs was the bad part. You shuddered and thought on something else.

Two Kingsguard bearing the same face waited on the docks with gorgeous geldings in tow. One announced, “Lord Celtigar, and the young lady. Welcome to King’s Landing.” You gave the customary bow, feeling your grandfathers steely eyes upon you. You had decided that the city was disgusting. Houses upon ramshackle houses layered upon another, beggars and folks covered in filth barking their wares. The Red Keep loomed over the city like a crimson giant from tales of old.

Grandfather chatted to the two knights and you pulled your hood up higher. The leers of the small folk made you uneasy. Claw Isle was a desolate rock but your childhood was joyfully spent seafaring and finding critters along the broken coast with your cousins and siblings.

You gasped at the sheer height of Maegor’s monstrosity, built to show who truly ran the Seven Kingdoms. Your grandfather spoke of the twisted and fearsome Iron Throne and the maze that ran underneath the keep, holding secrets one wouldn’t dare to unearth.

The Hand himself, Otto Hightower stood at the top of the steps with the queen smiling rather forcefully next to him. Otto beckoned your small party forward. Bartimos and the imposing man hugged and exchanged pleasantries. The green queen pulled you aside, murmuring, “Come here dearest, let me take a look at you.”

You tried not to squawk as the lady prodded and pinched your face, running a gentle hand down your delicate braids. Once done she pulled you into a warm hug. She remarked, “You are beautiful. This will do quite nicely. The Maiden smiles upon thee.” Your supple boots were beginning to grow damp with sweat.

You bowed and thanked Queen Alicent graciously, offering your honor to be in her presence. Otto turned to you before flicking his eyes to Alicent, the slender woman nodding with a soft tilt of her lips. The hand clasped his hands together and spoke, “Very well. Let us get you two in some sumptuous accommodations. Dinner will occur tonight for further discussion and merriment.” You had a feeling it was going to be one of those Braavosi menageries but bowed and followed along, purely in awe of the Keep.

Handmaidens flocked to your quarters to gussy you up for dinner. While they corseted and braided your hair you took in the room. This was much different than Claw Isle. Your families keep was by no means honest but looked like a shanty compared to the grand suite. Your home was made of tough timber supported by stones. Crabs too…lots of crabs.

The bed looked like a cloud, and wine plus other treats adorned the flat surfaces. One of the maidens, Meera, whispered, “Did you know this is where Princess Deria stayed when she delivered Dorne’s terms to the conqueror?” You turned and snarked, “I think I’m a bit less important than that.”

Another one piped in, “No, no, you’re very important. The whispers are that they are considering a betrothal for the young Prince!” Stagnant silence fit the room as you warbled, “My lord grandfather has made it very clear about that. May I have some wine?”

A cup of wine later you felt more loose. It didn’t taste pleasant but considering how others reacted it would be a help. Your father overcomsumed his drink but Bartimos never indulged in a drop. You’d watch yourself tonight.

The ladies tittered over your beauty, guiding you towards a looking glass. You did look comely. The cinching of your waist and the tight bodice gave you the appearance of curves. Celtigars were lanky in nature and you hoped some of your mother’s Rosby fertile traits would come in time.

You smiled and thanked the ladies, promising them a gift before you departed. A polite knock at the door swerved your head, and one of the servants opened the heavy wood. A white knight and Lord Celtigar stood waiting. Your grandfather was nervous, pulling at the hem of his cloak.

“Ser Willis Fell, my grand daughter,” he gestured to you, “Sweetling, your sworn sword for the time being.” You bowed and warmly replied. The Fell man— a strapping lad of dark gray eyes and dusty hair nodded politely. With a swish of his white cloak, the Celtigars were escorted to the Targaryen’s private dinner chambers.

Bartimos grabbed your sleeve, shifting the brocade of white and red beading. He stared expectantly. You meekly replied, “I will be on my most honorable behavior grandfather.” In a strange moment he pulled you into a hug and whispered, “I know you will. Of my offspring, you have a keen eye and intuition they do not possess.”

Face heated with affection, you were introduced to the family. Your heart sank into your bowels as you took in the scene. Queen Alicent shot up and strode to your side. Daemon snorted into his wine, getting a burning look from the King himself. Alicent beamed at you, cheerily chatting, “You look like a dream young lady. Come, come, we’ll sit you next to the younger ones.” You kept your face cool and curtsied before the royals as the queen led you to a spot next to Princess Helaena.

She squeezed your shoulders and returned to the other side of the table. Your grandfather had joined over near King Viserys and the Hand. The seat was empty next to you. You introduced yourself quietly, picking at your dress. One of Daemon’s girls, Rhaena, spoke, “It is wonderful to meet you, a fellow Valyrian.” Rhaenyra’s eldest boy chimed in, “Not very much of us around here!”

You laughed and joked, “We’re not as beautiful as your houses, but yes we can trace our ancestry back. We wanted a smaller desolate rock with people that hated us I’m afraid.”

They laughed around, even the quiet Helaena. She was exceedingly kind, but off. You chatted with the dragon seeds before asking, “May I ask, where is-.”

The dead-silent Aemond spoke, turning his intense gaze upon you, “He’s either hungover, asleep, bedding a whore, or all three I’m afraid Lady Celtigar.”

Your face fell but you lightly surmised, “I had heard as such. Even at this age?”

The Valyrians all nodded in unison. Jacaerys teased, “Since he’s gone so much that wouldn’t stop you from ahem- taking matters into your own hands.” Baela squawked and Aemond waved his hand muttering about moon-tea. The sweet Helaena grabbed your palm, her amethyst eyes searching your soul. She deadpanned, “The trap will be set.” You tore your gaze away, disturbed.

The young Lucaerys waved the dreamy Targaryen off and started about training with Ser Harwin— Aemond rolling his eyes. The stoic second son unnerved you even at such a young age. He was two-and-twelve and dreadfully serious.

With a yelp and a curse, Aegon Targaryen, second of his name stumbled in the room. Ser Westerling shook his head and marched the drunken boy into his chair. You scrunched your nose at his disheveled state. Aemond pinched his brother and the Velaryon blooded Targaryens giggled.

Aegon turned slowly to stare at you, glazed eyes surveying your form. He was probably seeing double from the way he closed a purple eye. The adults watched in horror, Viserys looking pale in the face. Daemon smirked, murmuring something in High Valyrian to the Princess Rhaenyra. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, a sudden need to slap the boy silly arising.

He slurred, “Y’ma betthrowed? Naht bad for ah crab! Bih’ skinny for m’tastes.” The thoroughly disheveled prince devolved into a fit of high-pitched giggles. You bit your tongue til it bled. Lord Celtigar’s gnarled hands drew white gripping the table. Alicent marched up and grabbed Aegon by the ear, hissing and spitting. He protested but stumbled along, falling down multiple times. Silence ensued before Otto and the King apologized and dinner returned.

Your appetite had left you, choosing to swirl the mash around your plate. The rest of the children shot looks of pity. You sniffled to hide your angry tears. What an absolute ass— the warnings were not enough. You bitterly remarked, “At the least the sot finds me comely.” A couple of chuckles filled the table and that was the last it was discussed.

You lamented your existence in your chamber. As much as a girl of twelve-and-ten could. If your possible betrothed was that much of an uncouth drunkard you would reconsider the elder Lord Crabb. Not like it mattered anyways— you were simply a pawn. Staring out into the bay you thought about sailing away. You’d probably get drowned or sold to Lys but the thought was soothing.

Your grandfather chuckled when he saw your frame bundled up on a chair. He ambled over and sat across from you. Petulantly you kept your mouth shut, eyeing your kin. He placed a spotted hand on your shoulder, smiling. You croaked, “What is so lighthearted about this grandsire?”

He replied, “Regardless of the young prince’s antics, the pair of you will be married in years time. He has sobered up and given his approval. For the time being, you will stay in King’s Landing as a lady-in-waiting for Princess Helaena.”

You spat, “I am honored to serve my family. Even is my betrothed is a drunken wretch. Please do visit, or send my brother, I fear I will be eaten alive.”

Bartimos guffawed, even taking to slap his knee. He leaned in and and spoke lowly, “Give the boy time. The prince will see what’s right in front of him, then that’s when you dig your claws in. My girl, who mentions King Jaehaerys without good Queen Alysanne? Be a lady, worship the Gods, and bide your time. Boy can’t see past his cock currently. Claw Isle is a mere ride from here, I will be watching.”

Your grandfather’s blunt words warmed your heart and set you to laughing, bringing happy tears to your eyes. In a flurry you hugged the sour crab and thanked him. He murmured, “The crabs feed on the helpless, just wait and see.”

A couple of months later

The royal children scampered around the secret beach under the Red Keep. Baela and Aemond had argued over an age-old pirate hiding his treasure in one of the many alcoves exposed when the tide was drawn. So down they went, Aemond snootily declaring when the best time was based on the moon. Jace snorted under his breath, “Cad.”

You and Aegon were at odds end; bickering and caught in petty bets. He shoved past you down the crumbling stairs, you sending a boot to his skinny legs. He stumbled and shrieked, “Piss off crab!” You huffed and stomped down. Luke nervously looked around, quavering. Rhaena seemed ecstatic, holding the dark headed boys hand.

Once on the shore, Baela pointed at a particularly jagged cave opening. She declared, “Thats the description that Aemond and I found!” Aemond sniffed, “We have two hours until tide surges back in, let’s go.” Aegon yawned, rolled his eyes, and swaggered forward to the cave. You followed along, picking up a seashell or two along the way. Your betrothed snorted, “What are you, Joff now?”

You tossed a pebble at him and shouted, “It reminds me of home you cretin! Keep moving!”

Aegon glared and trailed behind Baela. She stopped at the edge of the opening and turned around. She informed, “It’s going to get wet, but we have to be fast. Everyone got a weapon?” The group held up their daggers dutifully. Aemond charged in, his boots sinking thigh deep. Aegon groaned, “Greaaat.”

You shoved him forward and held the rear as Luke and Rhaena tromped in the darkness. Baela lit a torch, illuminating the cave. The gloom went further on. You hummed, “Maybe Helaena could’ve used her weird prophecies.” The princess had declined the adventure, informing you to bring her back a beautiful shell. Aegon groaned in disgust and barked at Rhaena to keep going.

Down and down they went until the kids stumbled upon an old chest. Luke yelped, “Gods! It’s real!”

Aemond snipped, “We don’t know yet fool.”

Jace bristled and you murmured some calming words. Aegon complained, “Pry it open then. I’d like to not drown any time soon.” Baela shushed the eldest and gathered Jace to wedge their daggers under the lid. With a crack it opened. The kids all gathered around to peer over it. Inside lie a strange jade figurine and some gold coins.

“Treasure,” Rhaena cheered!

Aemond’s eyes glanced about and he hastily demanded, “Tide’s rising. Let’s go. Crab, grab the stuff you have a bag.” Your eyes narrowed at the idiotic nickname Aegon had given you and unfortunately had stuck. You dutifully stuffed the items away. The tide was rising quicker than expected, everyone scrambling to leave.

Luke coughed up seawater on the shore, Rhaena patting his back softly. Aegon brooded like a wet cat. Everyone was accounted for. You snapped, “Thanks for the help when my foot was caught! Pompous ass.” Aegon shrugged disdainfully. You threw another pebble at him.

3 years later

Times had changed as of late. Rhaenyra had taken her children and Daemon’s girls to Dragonstone. There was a horrid incident involving the loss of Aemond’s eye by his cousin. You missed them dearly. Life was dreary. Helaena was sweet as could be but you were bored. She wasn’t the talkative type. Aemond dug into his studies and training. Aegon had reached the age of 6 and 10 and dove into his second passion besides drinking himself into oblivion; fucking anything with a hole. You eventually found yourself so deprived you asked for some lessons on defense from Ser Criston, the knight accepting happily.

So you had a regimen where you visited the knight a couple days a week to learn swordsmanship, brawling, and throwing off a wayward man. Aemond had quietly even thrown a compliment. Today you wrestled with a page boy, digging him into the ground. Ser Criston clapped, giving pointers.

The mood was promptly ruined by the grating voice of your betrothed.

Aegon stood with his unkempt long locks. You could smell the perfumes of the whore house and wine pouring off of him. Aemond rolled his eye, putting down his sword. The eldest prince remarked, “So you wrestle in the mud like a common beggar? Fitting for a crab.” Criston snapped, “Forgive me your grace but she is out here unlike some people I know.”

You pulled up the page boy and glared at the asshole. You snarled, “I bet your soft belly wouldn’t last a second against me, lazybones.”

Aegon’s pale fists clenched and his face gained red splotches. He hissed, “Why would I get in the mud with a weak girl?” Aemond piped up uncharacteristically with chicken noises. Throwing his hands up, Aegon snarled, “Fine. Let me put my hair up, wench.” You got into stance, ready to show the spoiled princeling.

He lunged and you slid between Aegon’s long legs, wrapping your arms around them. With an ‘oof’ he hit the ground. You wrestled on top of him, lightly shoving and punching. This was very cathartic for you. Aegon shouted horrid obscenities and kicked at you. Your hand gripped around his long throat, your mouth set into determination.

“Yield yellow belly!,” you demanded with another squeeze.

Aegon’s face grew very, very red. A pitiful noise left his throat, the boys eyes looking pointedly away. Then you felt the length between your legs. You gasped and got off, giving the perverted prick another kick to the side. You’d never seen Aemond and Criston laugh that hard in your life. As you trudged off, the elder son stared around in bewilderment before screeching at the men in the vicinity.

2 years later

If you had the choice you’d put Aegon’s head on a spike. He’d do the absolute same. When he wasn’t salaciously flirting with you…often followed up by an insult. Cards spread out on your table, a flagon between you two. He purred, “What do I get when I win?” You frowned and shuffled your cards. When you stared at the prince you grumbled, “You’d get your pox riddled dick cut off— do the realm a favor.” Aegon glared, “So bitter at a young age.”

“I’m a year younger than you loutish pig.”

He waved a hand and the pair of you started to play. Every round you had won, the increasingly annoyed prince demanded another go. The flagon had been replaced by that point too, mainly swallowed down by the blonde. You teased, “Seven above Aegon, you are simple!” Aegon’s cheeks flushed adorably hideously and he threw the cards across the table in anger.

Yelping you chided, “Really? Grow the fuck up.”

Aegon crossed his arms and muttered, “I don’t want to play the dumb cards anymore.”

“What? Do you want to play come-in-to my castle, blanket up a Red Keep like babes?”

Aegon leaned over the table and lecherously glared at you. He hummed lowly, “How about I come into your castle, Celtigar?”

You promptly slapped the shit out of him. Aegon held his cheek, eyes wide and pouty lips gaping. You grumbled, “This is not my idea of fun. Go to the brothel for that. I have to see to Helaena.”

Aegon sputtered but couldn’t form words, gaping after your retreating figure. Aemond’s voice called from behind, “Definitely not an idea of fun brother. The crab does not like you.” Aegon grumbled, “Tell me about it.” He held his cheek in heat, but his chest flip-flopped in a strange way.

1 year later

Helaena sung a melodic song in the Godswood. Her and Aemond’s children played about with a servant. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were gorgeous children, cracking open the sealed off part in your heart that yearned for love and childbearing.

Too bad you had the most idiotic, philandering, vain soon-to-be husband. The wedding was in plan for the fall. Winter was coming after all. The Starks had a point with that. The pair of you had ignored each other, Aegon did whatever debauchery that filled his free time while you read and accompanied sweet Helaena.

You paused and stared at the bleeding face of the Weirwood. Helaena hummed, “The weirwoods. They watch all of us. Silently, but there. They know everything.”

Holding back a snarky rebuttal you questioned, “Do you think the Trees know if my prince will consider me to be human eventually?”

Helaena stopped her fine needlepoint and grew silent. The whispering of the trees filled the garden. Even the children gazed up from their toys. That look of hers was upon you. The look that saw something you would never fathom. The past, present, and future. She whispered, “The broken dragon needs a shell.”

You hoped her strange words would alleviate something. Never in the way you expected per usual. She returned to her needlepoint, a knowing smile on her lips.

In a different part of the castle, Aegon was in his cups, again. Aemond sat with with his long legs primly crossed. The one-eye groused, “What could you possibly want drunkard?” Aegon bemoaned, “I think I am attracted to my future wife.” His brother snorted and leaned on his elbow, waiting for elaboration. The elder brother continued, “She’s beautiful, strong-willed, sexily stubborn, long legs, nice tea-“

Aemond waved a hand, “No more. If you didn’t act like a right prat to the young crab then maybe she’d be more willing. I’m going to be blunt. The lady is not interested in a whore-mongering, khat snorting, drunk arsehole. My only advice is go grovel at her feet if your simple self hasn’t ruined that.” Aegon shoved some bread in his mouth and bolted, leaving the second son to shaking his head, a smirk on his thin lips.

Later that evening you had retired to your quarters, reading a book on the history of Yi Ti. The grand maester had lent it to you due to your fixation on the wild lands of Essos. Your eyes flickered up at a crash. Your betrothed fell in. Literally. You slammed your book down and spat, “Gods! A warning?” Aegon’s teary eyes met yours.

You remained seated and questioned, “What the hells are you doing here? Don’t bring your drunken nonsense to my quarters!” Aegon responded with an ungainly crawl to your knees. You batted off his grasping hands until he held them clenched on his thighs.

You deadpanned, “Did Otto put you up to this? No I’m not bedding you either.”

Aegon sniffled, shaking his head. You watched as his tangled tresses swung around. Pity grew in your stomach. You snapped, “Out with it?” Aegon asked so, so softly, “Can I hold your hands?” You remained skeptical until pausing to stare into his violet orbs. With a sniff you placed them into his palms. The prince’s warm hands enveloped yours, squeezing tightly.

He croaked, “I- I- fuck. I think something is wrong with me. Is it too late for forgiveness?”

“Of course something is wrong with you,” you ignored the man’s second question.

You jolted when the blonde shouted, “No!,” he grew quiet, “I mean no.”

He continued, “I was dumb. I need you. I’m cracked in the head, broken, nothing makes me happy anymore.”

You crossed your legs, dumbfounded at Aegon’s words. You questioned, “Is this a farce? You despise me…I despise you. This is a political union.”

Aegon’s wide eyes poured tears. He whimpered, “On the seven- just give me a chance. Let me try to be good to you m’lady. I don’t want to go into a loveless marriage like they did.” You knew he was mentioning his parents. Squeezing the distraught dragon’s hands you let out a soft noise.

You stated, “If we work together, I think this could be a good idea. Now quit your weeping. Let us go sit on a roof and we can make terms. Forgiveness is earned, not given.” Aegon nodded, holding onto your palms for dear life.

Aegon mumbled, “I don’t despise you. You’re just…intimidating. Someone I wish I could be.”

You sighed, “Maybe. Just maybe I do not despise you. Just need some…discipline.” You grabbed his palm and pressed a gentle kiss to it, the prince’s breath hitching. Happy tears sprung to his sullen face. You hoped you were making a good idea and could have fun from the broken dragon’s changes.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #request #house celtigar #Celtigar!reader #proposals and politics oh my #Aegon gets his ass kicked

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bogmonstergeneral · 7 months

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One of my favorite things in the whole wide world is an ultra-accurate cosplay. I’m talking exact name brands. Obviously, this can be tough, because media in question will very rarely go out of their way to tell you what the character is wearing. Shoes, in particular, are very difficult.

I really like shoes. More so, I really like good leather shoes. The kind that last you your whole life. Currently, I’ve been hyperfixated on Metalocalypse, and today, we’re talkin boots.

Welcome to:

Bog’s Boot Basics: Metalocalypse Edition

I think people are scared of leather. I’m here to tell you that leather will not hurt you. You will not save the planet by buying a pleather boot. Actually, not only is pleather horrible for the planet, it’s also gonna cost you more in the long run because pleather isn’t built to last.

Say it with me: Leather is more sustainable than pleather.

I’m serious. Stop buying pleather boots off amazon for your cosplays. Stop buying pleather, period.

Most of the boots (and sneakers) I’m showing you today will not only elevate your cosplay, but also last you for the rest of your natural days. If you buy them secondhand, they have probably lived longer lives than you. Leather fucking rocks if you take care of it.

This all being said: These are not super budget-friendly options. Good new boots are an investment, and sometimes you have to pay a little more. If you’re not able to do that, these can often be found on ebay at lower prices, and very often at second-hand stores.

Ok, that aside, we can jump in.

I’m stealing a pic from the comic because it shows all their shoes. Although Skwis and Toki’s boot colors are actually reversed here - Skwis wears black boots, Toki wears brown in the show. Blah blah, anyway.

Nathan Explosion

Nathan wears some sort of single buckle, black tall boot. For our sake, we’re calling them biker boots.

Single buckle, slightly slouchy at the ankle, low heel. No laces or visible zippers.

Nathan does, in fact, ride motorcycles. Because of this, I’m going on a limb and saying these are actual biker boots. Nathan also, in fact, has money, and Harley Davidson boots are a fantastic choice for this.

Here’s a pair of Harley Chalmers with an extra buckle - no foul there, these are cunty as hell and I’d totally wear them anyway.

Pro: Fucking brutal

Con: Brutal fucking price tag at $200 new.

Honestly, if you’ve got the money and you want a sick pair of boots… buy em. Harley’s last forever.

The Harley double-zip riding boot is a slightly cheaper option, sitting around $100-$120.

Honestly, these are gonna be easy to find. Your keywords here are “Tall biker boot with buckle” or something along those lines. That’s doable. I also see a lot of secondhand Harley’s going for really reasonable asking prices, so always check all your thrift stores and ebay (depop and mercari are kinda a crapshoot, but always worth looking.)

Skwisgaar Skwigelf/Toki Wartooth

These are the boots that made me make this post, because I saw them and immediately thought “there’s no fucking way they’re walking around in those 24/7,” because those are old school field boots.

Ask any person who’s ever ridden a horse over the age of 30 if they can take a look in the backs of their closets, because they most definitely still have a pair of these boots. Every equestrian had at least one pair of these torture devices, and they will outlive you.

Here’s an example of a black pair and a brown pair:

Pros: You can get these on ebay for anywhere between $20-$100. Facebook market place is full of them too.

Cons: These were made for you to wear while sitting on a horse all day, heels down. When you walk in them, they will pinch the everloving fuck out of your heels, and this leather is too thick and stiff to soften. If you’re gonna walk around in these on a convention floor, please bring a change of shoes because you will fucking need them.

But these are so easy to find and they usually shine up really well. If you don’t have leather conditioner (which you should if you own leather shoes) olive oil works in a pinch.

You also usually have a couple different calf options here, so you can tack on “wide calf” or “tall calf” or “slim calf” etc etc depending on your needs.

Your keywords here are “Old school equestrian riding/field/hunt boots.” So fuckin easy.

William Murderface

It pains me to say this. But that dildo fuckhead is wearing Demonias.

Look at him. He knows what he’s doing. I use the term Dildo Fuckhead affectionately btw, please don’t mistake me for a Murderface hater. I love him.

Honestly, I think you could get away with calling these mid-calf’s, but they’re probably technically tall boots.

Obviously I hate Demonias. These plastic fucking emo Barbie boots are worth approximately $8 and a cup of Kraft mac n cheese. They will cost you well over $100. Fuck that.

I’ve heard that older New Rocks are good alternatives? I have a friend that backs that claim up, but I don’t have a pair to confirm that. I’m sure there’s some Doc Martens you could sub in but I couldn’t find any matches under $400.

These are a pair of New Rocks. They’re… that I guess. Kinda cool. He’s probably not even really wearing Demonias but like, that’s what they are. To me. In my heart.

Here’s a pair of Demonia Riot-18BK. I guess. They’re about $133.

Murderface somehow has the most difficult boots for me to find. Plenty of cheapo Temu options, but I’m not here to show you those. Please let me know if you buy a pair of Temu boots so I can come to your house and break every fucking lamp you own.

Your keywords are “Tall boot with buckles” or “tall biker boots with buckles” or anything along those lines.

I feel like you’ve got a little more room for interpretation on Murderface’s boots, so long as their tall boots and they’ve got the buckles, you’re golden.

Wild Card Round: Pickles the Drummer

Man is wearing adidas!!! Pickles cosplayers are the comfiest motherfuckers in the convention hall.

Campus 00s, Samba OGs, Handball Spezial, Superstars, and Racer V 2.0 are all going to get you extremely close renditions of his shoes. The racer’s are my everyday shoe when I don’t wanna wear boots and those fuckers are. So comfy. Wear em without socks, who fuckin cares. I bet Pickles doesn’t even own socks.

If you’re going for Snakes N Barrels Pickles, try looking up “red Justin cowboy boots.” Justin’s are my go to brand because they last forever (I have a pair from the 70s) and they’re pretty comfy. They’re work boots, so they’re made to be worn/worked in all day.

If you’re made of money, buy yourself a pair of Tecovas. Those are the nicest cowboy boot you’ll ever own.

Blam! Bootboard moodboard! I probably should have done this with all of them.

Anyway. Have fun, remember that inaccurate pieces don’t make or break a cosplay, this is just for fun and to elevate whatever you’ve got going on. Wear your shoes until they fall apart (that’s what i do. get your moneys worth), be kind to your feet, be kind to your shoes (actually you can be pretty harsh to leather so long as you do a little aftercare. this is an innuendo, but also please clean and condition your leather pieces.) and be kind to the planet. Leather is better than pleather. You are paying a premium for plastic. Don’t do that.

(Lemme know if this is cool/useful btw. I would be so happy to find boots/brands of clothing for your cosplays. I think my inbox is open.)

#metalocalypse #metalocalypse cosplay #cosplay tutorial #cosplay help #bog blab #nathan explosion #william murderface #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #pickles the drummer #dethklok #dethklok cosplay

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therealcocoshady · 3 months

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Recovery - Chapter 7

Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Y/N Comforts Marshall at the studio.

Tags : Fluff, Comfort

It was late and, by the time you got home, your friends were back from their date night.

There you are ! Talia said as you walked through the door. I was about to call the police !!!

Why the hell would you call the cops ? you asked.

Because it’s 3 AM, you were nowhere to be seen and you weren’t picking up the phone ?! she replied in a serious tone.

You apologized when you realized you had put your phone on silent when you were watching the movie at Marshall’s.

Where were you anyway ? She quizzed you.

With Marshall, you said. We watched a movie.

Told you she was probably with him, Jamal said calmly.

Well he didn’t pick up the phone either ! she said in an annoyed voice.

She looked at you and a grin formed on her face.

So… Movie night, huh ? She asked.

Yeah, you said. Why ?

You’re wearing his clothes, she pointed out.

Jamal let out a laugh and you blushed in embarrassment.

I spilled soda on mine, you replied calmly.

Of course, Jamal said with a smirk.

First, he gives you his necklace, then you come home wearing his stuff, she continued with a smile.

Wait, he gave you a necklace ? Jamal asked, amused.

Yes. His sobriety pendant, Talia explain.

It’s a good luck charm, you pointed out.

They hummed and smiled at you, their arms crossed.

I knew you liked him, Jamal said with a smirk.

Of course I like him, you said. As a friend.

Friends don’t wear their friend’s clothes, he replied.

Come on. I wear Talia’s clothes all the time. And she wears mine.

And friends usually don’t give each other diamond-encrusted good luck charms, either, he continued.

He likes you, Talia said.

He is nice, you said as you rolled your eyes. That’s it. He wanted to wish me luck on my recovery and he didn’t want me to stay in soaking wet clothes.

They kept on smiling.

You had a good time, your best friend pointed out.

I did.

You’re smiling, Jamal continued.

I am, you confirmed. You guys are being awfully descriptive. Is this going somewhere or can I finally go to bed ?

We haven't seen you with a smile this big since… a long time ago, he said softly.

I smile all the time, you said.

Not like this, Talia said. You are glowing.

Maybe it’s the face wash I used, you shrugged in annoyance, trying not to let on.

She got closer to you and inspected your face. Her face changed into a triumphant smile when she inhaled.

You showered there.

How do you even… ? you asked.

You would never pick a bodywash with this smell. I know you too well, she said with a grin.

Well, as I said, I spilled soda.

Riiiight, Jamal said. Quit lying and spill the tea instead, girl. We have all night.

You groaned. They were your best friends, but they were also the most nosey, insufferable people you knew, especially in this moment. Still, you knew better than to kiss and tell.

Goodnight, you said firmly as you moved towards the stairs.

Sweet dreams, Jamal said with a giggle.

You sighed when you got back to your room and laid on the bed. It was indeed late and you were exhausted. You were about to drift off to sleep when Talia opened the door.

What are you doing ? you asked.

I’m here for the tea, she chuckled before closing the door and laying next to you on the bed.

Taliaaaaaaa, you groaned.

Please, please, please. You’re my bestie. Besties tell each other everything, right ?

Are we back in middle-school ? You asked.

YES. I just want to know about your night, she pleaded. Did you have a good time ?

I did, you said with a smile.

Em’s a great guy, she said. I knew you’d get along.

Marshall is pretty cool, you nodded.

Right. “Marshall”. So, what did you do ? she asked with a smile.

We watched a movie, you said earnestly. Us.

A horror movie !!! she shrieked. Did he reassure you ?

Who said I needed reassurance ? you asked cockily.

Please, you’re the world’s biggest scaredy-cat, she giggled.

He did reassure me, you said softly. But there’s nothing between us. We’re friends.

Why did you shower at his place, then ? She asked. And please, don’t say you spilled soda. Unless you spilled a whole jug, you wouldn’t need to shower. Especially if it’s just a movie night.

You sighed. She was your best friend in the world and you didn’t want to lie to her. On the other hand, you didn’t feel like telling the whole truth either. She saw you looking uneasy.

You can tell me, she said. I promise I won’t tell Jamal.

Fine, you sighed.

You spilled a few details, leaving a part of the story aside. You figured she didn’t need to know about the other night. You basically just told her that you kissed and he went down on you before you took a shower and went for a drive.

That sounds like a date, she mused.

Only, it wasn’t, you said firmly. We agreed that it’d be better if we stayed friends. We just got caught up in the moment. It’s not a big deal, though.

Just friends ? She asked in disbelief.

Yeah. I don’t think he likes me like that anyway, you said.

Mmmh. I disagree but ok, she said. How do you feel ?

Fine, you said. I mean, he’s really cool, I like hanging out with him. Friends is good.

Whatever keeps you smiling like this, she said. I missed seeing you like that, you know ?

Without warning, she engulfed you into a hug. She was the most affectionate person you knew.

Thank you for everything, you whispered.

Anytime, honey, she whispered back. Well, if you want to thank me… there is something you can do…

What ?

Spill the tea about Em. Is he good ? she asked cockily.

Talia !!!

Come on, it’s no big deal, she chuckled. Better than Simon ?

So much better, you said with a wink.

She squealed and clapped and, even though you were initially tired, you ended up talking until morning, like two middle-schoolers during a sleepover.

The next day, you went to the studio after you were done with uni. It was just Marshall, Jamal, Royce and Porter. They were discussing a track. You quickly hugged everyone and sat on the couch. You hadn’t slept and you were tired. You let out an involuntary yawn.

Are you alright ? Porter asked.

Yeah, you said. Sorry, I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept.

Got some action last night ? Royce joked.

You heard a shrieking noise coming from Jamal, who was trying to fake a cough to hide it. You shot him a death glare.

Yeah. Talia was in my room all night, you said with a mean smile. Had to give the poor woman something.

You’re such a bitch, Jamal said with a laugh.

Marshall looked at you with an amused smile and shook his head. He silently mouthed a “Thank you” and winked. You hoped Jamal hadn’t made any comment or grilled him with questions. Eventually, the guys stopped working and Marshall came to sit beside you while Porter, Royce and Jamal went to get something to drink.

I have something for you, he said with a smile.

You do ? you asked.

Yes. I made you a playlist, he explained. Your very own beginner’s guide to hip-hop. I selected some tracks for you to listen to. There's 2Pac, LL Cool J, Beastie Boys, Wu Tang… That’ll be a good start.

Thank you ! When did you have time to put that together ? You asked.

You’re not the only one who had a sleepless night, he chuckled. Spent hours trying to clean the damn couch.

You chortled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He looked at you with a smirk.

Anyway, by the time I was done, it was either an hour of sleep or working on your playlist. And I do better on no sleep than one hour, he chuckled. So there you go !

He handed you a small USB device.

You know people use Spotify and Apple Music these days, right ? You joked.

The only reason it’s not a CD is because I’m pretty sure you don’t have a player, he replied with a smirk.

It’s true, I don’t, you chuckled.

It’s a shame, he said as he shook his head. You’ll never know how great it was, when you had something physical to hold on to, with music.

I’m not twelve, Marshall, you said with a laugh. I had a few CDs in my day. But yeah, that was short-lived.

What was the first CD you bought ? he asked.

You don’t want to know.

Come on, he said. I won’t judge.

Britney Spears, In the Zone, you said.

Ok, I’m judging a little, he admitted with a grin.

You chuckled and grabbed your laptop, inserting the device, saving the tracks in your playlist.

Do you want me to make you a playlist in return ? You joked.

I don’t trust your music taste, he grinned. But you know what ? Sure. Though I should tell you hip-hop isn’t the only thing I listen to. So make it interesting, ok ?

You nodded and placed the usb key in your bag. You pressed play on your computer and listened to the first song which was Keep Ya Head Up, by 2Pac. As the first notes played, Marshall immediately took your computer.

Nope, nope, nope, he said as he shook his head.

What’s wrong ? You asked, visibly confused.

I’m not having you listen to great music on shitty computer speakers, he explained.

He got up and picked a set of Beats headphones.

I could have used my headphones, you chuckled.

Those flimsy things ? Yeah, don’t bother, he grinned.

Snob, you said as you rolled his eyes.

You connected the Beats set to your computer and placed them on your head.

That’s better, you admitted. The sound is great !!!

I know, right ? He replied. You can keep those, by the way.

The others came back and resumed their conversation with Marshall, who threw glances at you as if to watch your reaction to the playlist. You smiled and closed your eyes to focus on the music. Before you knew it, you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, the room was dark and silent. You were laying on the couch, Marshall’s jacket placed on you. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you weren’t exactly surprised. You were exhausted. Your eyes scoured the room, searching for the others but they were nowhere to be seen. You got up and went to the lobby, where you found Marshall playing one of the arcade games.

Hey sleepyhead, he said without looking at you, absorbed by the game.

Hey, you said as you rubbed your eyes and tried to get used to the sudden light.

After losing his game and grunting, he turned to you. He seemed exhausted and you figured that he wasn’t any better at dealing with the lack of sleep than you were.

What time is it ? You asked.

About 11PM, he replied.

Where are the others ?

They went home a while ago. I told Jamal not to wake you up, he explained. I figured you needed the sleep.

Thanks. Were you waiting for me to wake up ? you asked.

Yeah, he said.

You didn’t have to, you said as you shook your head. You look tired.

It’s fine, he assured you. I just finished working anyway.

This late ?

Yeah, he mumbled.

He groaned and stretched his back.

Is something wrong ? You asked.

Yeah. No. I don’t know, he sighed.

Want to talk about it ? You offered.

He stared at you for a few seconds and shrugged.

Paul called me a few hours ago. We’re having a few issues with sample clearing, he said.

What’s that ?

When you want to sample someone’s work you need to get permission, he explained. Basically, you have to ask the copyright’s owners.

Ok, you said as you took in the information. So ? What’s the issue ?

So, anyway, there was this song we recorded a while ago and I felt pretty good about it. Loved everything about it, really. Some of the guys even said it’s one of my best.

Yes ? You asked, not really getting it.

Well the copyright’s owners - not even the artist, but their heirs - don’t want me to use it, he said in an annoyed tone.

They don’t like what you did ?

Nooo, better than that, he said with a sarcastic laugh. They say they like it, but they don’t want me to use it. Because I’m Eminem.

You looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

They like it but they don’t like… you ? you said.

Exactly. Apparently, they think I’m too homophobic and misogynistic, he groaned. Like… what the fuck ?!

What ?

You know what’s fucking frustrating ?! he continued. The track is clean. Like, actually clean. Barely any swear words. No slurs. No killing anyone. No violence or shit. But because some people portrayed me as homophobic three lifetimes ago, they don’t want me to use the work.

That’s unfair, you said.

You think ?!

He groaned and punched the nearest wall. It was the first time you saw him angry. In the past months, you’d seen a lot of his emotions, but never anger. This sudden burst of rage startled you. You stared at him, unable to say anything. After a few seconds, he seemed to notice it and his face softened a bit.

Sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to scare you, he said softly. I’m just… fucking frustrated.

It’s ok, you replied. I can tell the track means a lot to you.

It does, he said, but it’s not just that, you know ? It’s the way some people think about me. I usually don’t care, because I figure that, if they don’t like my music, all they have to do is not play it. I’m not offended by that. Not everyone will like me and that’s ok. But this… it’s worse because it’s preventing me from making music. You know what I’m saying ? I wanted that shit on the album.

You hummed and gently rubbed his shoulder. He gently leaned into your touch.

There’s no way you can persuade them to change their mind ? You asked.

Don’t think so, he said. I mean, if it were me, and I thought someone homophobic, racist or whatever wanted to use my work, I’d probably say no too, you know ? But…

But you’re not like that, so that’s even more frustrating, you continued.

...Yeah.

He sighed. You could see some genuine disappointment in his face.

As I said, I usually don’t care about this type of rumors or public perception or whatever you want to call it. But music… that’s the most important thing to me, you know ? That’s all I want to do, all I care about. Music.

You nodded and gently wrapped your arms around him. He returned the embrace.

Thanks, he whispered. Sorry for being grumpy.

I wish I could do something, you said.

This is good, he said softly.

He rested his chin on the top of your head. You mindlessly ran your hands in his back, in an attempt to soothe and comfort him.

I like that, he said in a sleepy voice.

You know what I think you’d like even more ? you asked as you smiled against his chest.

You’re not going to start teasing me, are you ? he asked with a small groan.

No, you idiot, you giggled. I was thinking about sleep.

I would like that, he said.

I’ll get my things and call a cab.

No need for a cab. I’ll take you home, he said.

Ok, you whispered.

You both grabbed your things and he took you home.

Thanks for taking me home, you said. And allowing me to rest at the studio.

Thanks for comforting me, he replied with a smile.

Anytime, you said softly.

Sorry you had to see me all grumpy…

It’s ok, you said. You have the right to be sad, hurt and whatever, you know ?

He shrugged and nodded quietly.

For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing. And I’m sure that, if these people met you for even 10 minutes, they’d be honored to have you sample their stuff, you added before planting a kiss on his cheek.

You think ?

Of course, you said with a smile. You’re the kindest and funniest person I’ve met.

Sexiest, too, right ? He asked with a smirk.

I used to find you attractive, you said with a smile. But then you showed me those awful pictures of you in the 90s. Now I can’t unsee it.

He let out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

I’m glad we’re friends, he said with a smile. You know… I don’t have a lot of people who comfort me the way you do.

Me too, you said softly. I’ll always be there if you need comfort, you know ?

You hugged him one last time and he planted a kiss on the top of your head. As soon as you entered the house, you grabbed your phone and checked your messages. Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw a very familiar name on the screen.

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