#i'll burn myself out real quick

[cripplecharacters]

The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media

[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]

If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?

Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.

Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:

If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.

The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.

The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.

Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.

With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.

Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...

Why It Sucks 

[large text: Why It Sucks]

It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it. 

Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.

Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?

Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.

Perpetuating disfiguremisia. 

"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk

[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]

It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.

Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred. 

Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.

It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.

*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.

When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.

Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic. 

It doesn't have to be.

Questions to Ask Yourself

[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]

Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.

Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.

You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.

The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.

Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?

I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.

Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?

Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?

Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?

Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?

And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?

Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?

If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up. 

Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?

Why not “normal”?

Question four: why did you make the character the way they are? 

Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.

Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?

Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?

Question six: why is your character wearing a mask? 

Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?

For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.

How do you feel?

F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]

[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]

As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns. 

“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.

“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.

“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.

“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.

"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.

“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it. 

"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.

“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.

"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.

Closing Remarks

[large text: Closing Remarks]

I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.

With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.

Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.

And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.

I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)

Mod Sasza

#mod sasza #disfiguremisia #face difference #mask trope #writing trope #writing resource #writing reference #writing resources #writing advice #writeblr #writing tips #long post #burn survivor representation

[oleander-nin]

Im not sure if you still take reqs so sorry if you dont but can you do yandere donnie with a reader thats really bad at taking care of themself? Like they’ll stay up until like 5am playing videogames and end up sleeping in so much they decide to skip breakfast and lunch then end up eating a snack instead of a real meal for dinner because its to much work

A/N, not important: Uhh, I think I may have done this wrong- I had an idea, but somehow this came out instead. If it's majorly not to your tastes, send the request again and I'll try again. Thank you sm to @lethelagoon for the title and for helping me with the fic! Also this is posted on the tenth and not the third because I posted smth on the first and decided I could just skip to this week. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: mention of feeding tube, descriptive, mentions of drugging, pills, needles, abuse, kidnapped reader, dark themes, yandere themes

Words: 1357

Summary: Donnie comes home and finds out you broke his rules. Again.

“Do we need to go over your schedule again?” Donnie’s smooth voice sounds from behind me. I look towards him, shrinking down in fear. I set the console SHELLDON swore I was allowed to use down, racking my brain to try and find an excuse to get out of this. It had taken me three months to convince him I was fine being left alone, three months to convince him I wouldn’t break the schedule he created for me. Yet here I was, caught with the console on and his(or ours, as he liked to claim) bed unmade, the clock shining the traitorous numbers brightly. It was three in the morning, and Donnie had just returned from a mission, catching me in the act. I gulp. This was not going to go well.

“Well?” He asks, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. A scowl was on his face, signaling his distaste to the world. I chew on my cheek, opening my mouth and closing it over and over, trying to think of something to say. I didn’t want to be drugged again. I wouldn’t let him drug me again.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I say. It was a half-truth, which is better than a full lie. He can’t prove I wasn’t having trouble sleeping. Hopefully he won’t realize I never tried.

Donnie scoffs, a scowl set on his face. “Then you ask SHELLDON for sleep medicine. That is not an excuse and you know it. Gosh, you’re so- UGH!”

I cower back, my hands starting to shake as he paces around the room, his arms flailing as he continues to rant. I was going to be punished again, I was sure of it. Images of the isolation room and chains flashed through my mind, the slick taste of pills burning my throat. I couldn’t go through that again. I never wanted that to happen again.

Noticing my shaking, Donnie rolls his eyes and crosses the room in quick succession. He scoops me into his arms, holding me close while he continues to grumble under his breath. His arms were tense, the muscles more defined due to his anger. I couldn’t help the wave of panic coursing through my veins, my mouth going dry. 

I brace myself for the sharp pinch of a needle, but it never comes. I glance at his face, his dark eyes boring into mine. He wasn’t pleased, that was certain, but I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t freaking out. Last time I did something like this, he stripped the room of anything I could mess with and kept me locked up for a month. I still remember the pills he brought in, every night at seven. I shudder at the thought, the feeling of my body shutting down and pulling me into an unwanted sleep. 

He continues to stare at me, scanning my face slowly. He sighs in irritation, adjusting me in his arms before carrying me further into the room and setting me on the bed. He sits on the edge, his eyebrows furrowed as he takes his gear off slowly, letting each glove and padding fall to the floor. His steady hands were shaking in anger, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. My chest is tight in fear, knowing what was to come. The only wonder I had was why he was taking so long. I watch his face, trying to look past his eyes and learn what he was thinking. His silence was never good, a painful indicator of how ruthless he could be. Silence was a warning with Donnie, never a blessing.

“You didn’t listen.” He says, his voice tight. He’s not looking at me, his eyes trained on the floor. His hands squeeze the blanket of his bed, his green knuckles going white from the force. My blood runs cold and I desperately try to think of a way to fix this. He looks back over at me, his eyes narrowed and furious. “Why? Do you think I’m wrong? Do you not see the way I love you and want you to improve?”

I stay silent, unable to form a response. I didn’t know how to tell him the way he loved me was wrong in every way possible. I didn’t know how to tell him I still wanted, no needed, my escape from reality. 

His eyes wash over me again, my body feeling heavier with each look he gave me. It was like every time he scanned my body, another layer of fear and shame was set on my shoulders. The room was getting smaller, my lungs struggling to take in air. My left hand crosses my chest and sits on my shoulder, my right digging painfully into my thigh. I couldn’t do this. I wanted to go home. I hate him, I hate him so much. I can’t do this, I can’t be near him. All he does is hurt, and take, and I can’t leave. I was going to die here, stuck under the sick obsession of a mutant turtle.

I feel his hand on my back and I try not to cry, panic and fear growing until I feel as if I would pop. I couldn’t live like this, not any longer. I look up, seeing the way his face had tensed. I could see his lips moving, but couldn’t hear the words. I feel my throat ache from the held back tears, my entire body thrumming in sync with my heart. It was too fast. His room was too dark.

“Breathe.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the order, my body conditioned to do as he says without question. His hand goes under my chin, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. He makes me look into his eyes, the same eyes that were unbothered as he locked me away for weeks. The same eyes that stared angrily as he shoved a feeding tube down my throat when I forgot to eat. A sob bubbles from my chest as I try to pull back, survival instinct kicking in. His grip on my chin grows tighter, his other arm looping around my back and holding me in place. He places his forehead against mine, his lips moving once more. I could feel the words around me, the vibrations in the air, but I couldn't hear them. I could understand what he was saying, but I didn’t know what he said.

I continue to cry involuntarily, the hand holding my chin shifting to cup my cheek so he can wipe the tears as they fall. It didn’t help, his thumb wasn’t fast enough to wash them all away. I sit like that for nearly twenty minutes, the world around me crashing down and landing on my chest. My vision swirls with each sob while Donnie continues to hold me and whisper useless, silent words.

My vision swims one last time before the room starts to come back into focus, a harsh ringing in my ears. Donnie’s face is inches from mine, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. I stare at them through my sniffles. I never noticed he didn’t take off his mask. I try to turn my head to look at the room, but his grip on my face is strong.

“Are you done?”

I blink at him, his thumb roughly swiping my cheek as a stray tear falls. I forgot how his voice sounded for a moment. I take a deep breath, nodding. I didn’t have any other way to tell him, and I doubted I would fall into another fit. His hands fall from my face and I lean my neck back, staring at the ceiling. I felt numb, like my tears washed away every emotion my body once held. I couldn’t tell if I felt free, or even more suffocated. It was surreal, having my body be able to go through such stress before falling back as if nothing had happened.

Donnie’s hands trail down me, as if he was afraid I’d fall apart if he let go. They loop around my waist, pulling me firmly into his lap before he shifts on the bed and falls backwards, keeping me on his chest. I don’t fight it this time, letting him press a kiss to the crown of my head while he slowly rubs my back.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen, love.” His voice is quiet, one hand leaving my back to take his mask off while the other holds me tight. I let my head fall, my cheek pressed uncomfortably against the hard of his plastron. I let my eyes close, too tired to fight him any longer. I feel his chest vibrate as a small chuckle can be heard from him. “There you go. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up so we can discuss your new schedule. This will never happen again.”

I feel my stomach churn at his words, but I do nothing more than hum in agreement. I couldn’t fight anymore, my energy zapped. I just hoped I could sleep in tomorrow. I would delay a talk with him forever if I could. I take another breath and sleep comes for me, dragging me down into the darkness of my mind.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #yandere #tw yandere #tw drugging #tw abuse #tw kidnapping #yandere donnie x reader #yandere donnie #yandere donnie tmnt #yandere rottmnt donnie #yandere tmnt x reader #yandere rottmnt x reader #rise donnie #donatello #tmnt donatello

[sundeathh]

Aizawa’s sick day

One-shot | Masterlist

Pairing: Aizawa × Reader | Word count: 2,5k

Fandom: BNHA | MHA | Tags: fluffy, reverse comfort, home life, romance, SFW

CW: Sickness, of course (nothing too disturbing). Also: stable relationship, cheesy stuff, married couple dynamic, playful threats and teases. Readers' gender and appearance are not described, but there is a mention of reader being a "wife".

Notes: I've been working a lot lately, and I managed to get myself sick. I went to the EM two times now, and I just got some palliative medicine that didn't do much to the overall issue. I'm still sick. But I'm better than before and will be returning to work tomorrow (I can't afford absence anymore, unfortunately). But that's it.

I hate being sick, as real life doesn't pause to let me rest. So, to help me unwind for a little bit, I wrote this piece to take the focus off my sickness and to flutter my chest by pretending to take care of, at least, a fictional character. I hope you'll enjoy it. Sorry if there's any spelling; it is late, I'm sleepy, and my eyes are burning. Take care, love yall.

08:44 pm

"I'm home." The tired man called as he opened the door and took off his shoes. It has been a long day at work, and Shōta is more than exhausted. Slowly, he made his way down the hall to put the rest of his stuff away and grab a quick shower before dinner.

After taking note that you were not in the living room nor the kitchen, he reached your shared bedroom and pushed the door open, where he met with a smile that caused him to relax instantly after stepping inside.

"Oh! Hey, hun! Welcome back!" You greeted as you folded another piece of laundry, which was still warm from the dryer. Neat piles lined up on the king-sized bed.

"Hey." He replied quietly before walking over to you and pecking your lips. It had been rough lately, and every time he got home late from work, you noticed how increasingly tense he seemed as the days passed. 

"I thought you would be home early today." You commented. "Where were you? I was worried."

He sat on the bed next to where you stood, watching as you folded another shirt. Then, he sighed, rubbing his sore eyes as he rested his other hand on his knee.

"I was supposed to, but they needed me for a meeting and kept me late. Sorry I didn't text you." He explains, feeling a slight guilt sting in his chest as he glances at the clothes on the bed. You had to do his chores again. 

"I see." You respond quietly, with no resentment in your voice at all. "It's fine. But it is also late, so you should get ready for dinner." You instructed. 

Aizawa nodded and stood up before heading into the bathroom to shower, coming back moments later looking entirely drowsy.

"You look so exhausted." Your worried words pull Shōta from his sleepy state, the bed now looking pretty free from the clothes as you put the last pile into a drawer. "Didn't take proper care of yourself today, did you?" You questioned. "Did you eat anything besides applesauce?"

His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at you. You know he hates when you call him out like this. But you are right. Today was rough. "Yeah, yes, I know. Sorry. I promise I'll get better." His soft tone had you smiling. 

"No need to apologize, baby. I was just worried, that is all." You reassured as you walked toward him, snaking your arms around his waist and holding on tight, pulling him closer against your body. "You okay?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah." He nuzzled your neck. "Just tired." He explained, and you gently ran your hand up and down his back.

The two of you stayed embraced for a few seconds, pulling apart only after your stomach let out its demands, prompting you both to chuckle lightly. 

"Sorry, I have not eaten yet." You apologized before inviting him to the dining room, dragging his willing self by the hand.

As he followed behind, you heard him scolding you for your behavior. "I told you to stop waiting for me to have dinner when I do not get home until seven."

You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned the corner. "Sorry, I guess I forgot." You replied as you walked into the kitchen. "And besides, I did not have the appetite to eat alone anyway."

That earned you a soft laugh from the man who walked into the kitchen soon after you, helping you bring the food to the dining table afterward.

And, as you made yourselves comfortable, you two started eating. Small talk filled the air as you avoided both talking about work or the things that could be troubling your husband since dinner was not time for stress.

And this goes both ways, as Shōta knows that this small amount of time after he arrives is all he has with you since he needs to leave for work again before you even wake up the next day. 

Not long after, however, you can not help but notice how the dark circles under his eyes looked more purple than you ever saw, and his movements seemed a lot slower than what you were used to;

It worried you. Even though you know the hero and teaching work are naturally wearing, despite his tiredness, he always afforded to act, at least around you, not so worn out.

He had not been sleeping well recently, and you wanted to do something about it; but now was not the time, so you decided against mentioning it to him right now, as you knew it would bother him even further.

But he noticed you staring anyway, and his gaze drifted toward your lips, then back to your eyes. He raised a brow.

"Are you gonna finish those?" You asked, motioning to his half-eaten meal, which he absently turned over repetitively with his utensils. He shrugged. "Maybe later tonight?"

You nodded once in understanding and returned your attention to your plate. "Okay," you said.

He then went back into playing with his food in silence, which you did not mind. You know he was not hungry anymore but was making time to give you company as you finished your meal anyways. 

Once you finished, he rinsed the dishes while you dried them, setting them aside. Then, Shōta followed you back into the living room, where he plopped down on the couch.

Before long, you were cuddling together as something mindless passed on the TV screen. And, at some point during the movie, you began yawning, slowly lulling your head onto the shoulder of your partner, while his head would eventually fall forward as sleep threatened to grab hold of either of you.

So, reluctantly you sat up, stretching your back before turning to face Shōta. "Should we head to bed? Or do you want us to stay up here a while longer?" You asked, leaning in slightly, resting a hand on his leg.

He shook his head. "I think it's time for bed."

You nodded and stood up first, extending your hand toward him to help him stand up too. And, with his hand intertwined with yours, you led him back to the bedroom – where he went straight to lie on the bed.

After you were both settled, you wrapped an arm around his torso, nuzzling your head into his chest as he reciprocated the embrace, snuggling closer. Then, he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

02:51 am

You woke up feeling hot. Well, hot enough for someone who does not bother regard to temperature. It is a bit unusual, and usually, you do not even realize the temperature change when asleep. 

You shifted in the grasp of your husband, turning over to your side as you tried, in vain, to cool down before realizing that the overheating you felt was radiating from the man you tangled with to sleep.

A frown immediately appeared on your face while moving your hand to place it over his forehead. Perhaps he was feverish?

Hmm, maybe. You could not tell for sure, but the skin felt a lot warmer to your touch. It did not feel right. So, carefully extracting yourself from the embrace, you walked to the closet and retrieved a thermometer, which you then returned and inserted into his mouth before sitting on the edge of the bed with him.

After a moment, the beeping of the device signaled that it finished testing; you watched as he started waking up a little after you took it out, his eyes fluttering open and landing upon the sight of you – sitting on the bed beside him, watching him cautiously. 

He blinked, slowly bringing his hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Hey." He greeted, his voice hoarse. 

You gave him a gentle smile. "Hey." You replied, and he glanced back up at you.

"What are you doing?" He asks, squinting slightly in the darkness as if trying his best to decipher your features.

"Doing a little research." You responded. "Feeling alright? No headache?"

He furrowed his brows together. "No, why? Should I?"

You shake your head. "Probably not. But just making sure, you are running a fever, sweetheart."  You explained softly, reaching your hand out to grab his. "Come on, let us get you into a cool shower, and then you can rest a little longer, okay?"

He did not argue or question you, even though he seemed reluctant. Instead, he nodded and complied, rising from the bed, taking the offered hand, and following you into the bathroom.

While you reached the bathtub to turn the water on, Shōta quietly took his shirt off, discarding it into the hamper next to the sink. 

After you turned around, your gaze fell upon his toned muscles for half a second before landing on his face. His hair was sticking up every which way thanks to the ruffling from sleep, his bangs covering half his face and hiding the dark bags beneath his eyes. He looked exhausted as ever, yet also adorable somehow. However, the more you looked, the more you could tell he was getting sick. 

Sighing, you pulled your fingers through your hair, continuing to examine his appearance. You had never seen him sick, nor had you seen him look this exhausted in all the years you were together. 

Shōta turned around, noticing you observing his appearance, and raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you worried?" He questioned.

"Well, yes." You answered, still analyzing him.

His lips stretched into a faint smile as he approached you, cupping your cheek with his hand as he peered down at you, giving you an amused expression. "Why?" 

"You have been running yourself ragged lately." You answered, leaning into his palm. "And I never saw you sick before. I am worried because, especially now, you can not afford to be weak."

He sighed before pulling you close, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, and placing one last soft kiss on the tip of your nose. "Don't worry. I promise I will be fine." He assured.

"Promise?" You repeated skeptically, staring deep into his eyes, and he chuckled. "Cross my heart."

"Mhm..." you hummed. "I will only believe that if you don't overexert yourself. If you keep worrying me like this, you will become bedridden sooner than you wish."

This time his chuckle was not quiet, and you could hear the whizzing in his chest. "Now, aren't you a good wife?" He teased.

You scoffed at that remark. "Of course I am. I am making sure you do not work yourself till you drop sick!" You retorted.

He gave you a smug grin. "Is that so?" He asked, tilting his head a little. "How mean."

You rolled your eyes in response before staring straight back at him. "But I am serious, Shōta."

"Then I will stop stressing myself and make a good impression on you." He declared, and his playful grin widened, making you chuckle. 

"Yeah, that is what I want. Now go wash off the sweat. I will fix you a cup of tea and bring it up. Alright?"

He smiled again, nodding. "Alright."

And as you made your way toward the kitchen, you wondered how you managed to fall for such a selfless bastard.

But you were not complaining.

03:12 am

Aizawa was still immersed in the bathtub when you returned with a glass in hand and medicine in the other. Then, after he emerged his hands from the water, you handed him one of each before leaning down to sit over your forelegs while resting your arms against the edge of the tub.

You watched as he gulped the medicine down with a generous sip of cold tea.

"How do you feel?" You quietly asked as he pulled the glass away from his lips. 

He merely gave you a small smile. "Not bad." He replied, his tone sounding slightly less hoarse now that he had drunk the tea. "I don't feel any different than usual. Just tired."

"Okay." You murmured, your eyebrows creasing together a little. "If it gets worse tomorrow, I will take you straight home from work, alright!?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"And I will ask Hizashi to check up on you since I know you won't tell me if it gets worse, after all."

He smirked a little at this, snickering. "That is true. But asking Mic to do that is not necessary." He paused, glancing at you before giving you a soft, small smile.

"Oh, yeah?" You asked.

Shōta nodded. "Yes. If it gets a lot worse, I will call you. I don't want to trouble any more people nor make you worry unnecessarily."

Your eyes softened at that. You know how Shōta hated burdening someone else, even though it would never feel like that to you. But he was willing to set his stubbornness aside for your sake. It flattered you a little, and you could not help but smile. 

"Okay, good... so, since you are telling me that, I will try not to worry too much then." You said. He returned your smile with a faint yet truthful one.

"Thank you, though."

"For what?" You inquired in curiosity. 

"Being so attentive like that." He said. "I appreciate it."

A faint blush formed on your cheeks as your eyes widened just a tiny bit. Then, the smile returned to your lips. "No problem, Sho. I care for you. And I love seeing you well."

His eyes softened at your words. "I know you do." He agreed quietly before opening his mouth to speak again but was cut short by a yawn escaping his lips.

"There you go again, falling asleep without meaning for it at all." You chuckled. Then, you reached forward and brushed the stray hairs from his forehead before letting your hand fall back onto the rim of the tub; while watching him intently for a moment. He smiled at you again. 

After a few moments of silence, his face finally showed some signs of discomfort, and you frowned slightly. "Are you uncomfortable? Do you need me t-"

"It’s fine." He insisted, cutting you off, before taking your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, effectively stopping you from finishing that sentence. "Just tired. It happens sometimes."

"Oh." You breathed, taking in what he said before sighing softly, slowly beginning to rise back to your feet. "Okay, then. I will grab some clean clothes for you now. Take your time resting up. If you need anything, ask me, alright?"

He smiled gratefully at you. "Okay, thanks, babe."

Your heart clenched at the sound of him saying those precious words; they meant everything to you. They always would. He knew how important they were; and how much you cherished them. 

Because, despite his cold surface, he never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated.

So you hoped you would never fail at that too.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! Check the fixed post for requests.

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha fanfiction #bnha headcannons #mr aizawa #aizawa shōta #aizawa sensei #aizawa shouta #aizawa fluff #shoto aizawa #aizawa headcanons #reverse comfort #boku no hero x reader #bnha #my hero acedamia

[fuxuannie]

If it's okay. Can I request for Bronya and Herta taking care of their sick s/o (reader) headcanons?

Thank you!

* pairing(s) : bronya + herta x gender neutral reader

* prompt : request ♡

* authors note : rlly quick thing! just to get it done (๑´ ³` )ﾉ ALSO I COULD NOT FIND A BRONYA HSR CHIBI FOR THE LIFE OF ME SO IGNORE THAT ITS HI3 BRONYA o(〒﹏〒)o

BRONYA got off work as soon as possible to get to you, stopping by Natashas clinic on the way. She bursts through the front door, worried as ever as she pants for air. She wanted to be home earlier, but work calls, and the earliest she could get out was 7PM.

"(name)?" She'll call out, going through every room in your shared home with concern and worry through her voice. She eventually finds you curled up on the couch, shivering from the cold. Bronya mutters a small "Oh, darling." as she walks towards you, putting the medicine on the nearby table and kneeling by your side.

Pressing the back of her hand against your forehead, it's clear you're burning hot. Your breathing is hoarse and it's clear you're in pain with how you'd ocassionally twist and turn in your slumber. She opens up the package of medicine that Natasha was so kind to provide, and goes off to another room to retrieve comfort items and a blanket for when you woke up.

You wake up to a warm blanket wrapped around you, and Bronya asleep on a nearby chair with her arms crossed and head hung low. Soft snores coming from her as you chuckle lightly, before it turned to a fit of coughs. "She didn't wake up from that.. must've been real tired." You say to yourself, attention shifting to the various recovery food and medicine laid out on the table.

"Make sure to eat, drink and consume your medicine when you wake up. - Love, Bronya."

You smile at her sweet and thoughtful actions, oh how lucky you were to have her.

HERTA is one of the smartest humans to ever live, if she felt like it, she could brew you a cure that'll have you feel better in seconds. But a part of her.. liked taking care of you while you were sick.

No one would get her to admit it, not even if they nagged her for thousands of years, but she knew the truth far better than anyone else did.

She watches as you blow your nose for the 7th time, having one of her puppets throw it away as she sat next to you in bed. "Hertaa.." You whined, clinging onto her arm. She smiles softly at your clingyness that came with your illness, "Yes, my dearest?" She'll reply, caressing your cheek with her thumb as you hold her hand.

"I don't wanna be sickk.." You sniffled, and she shushes you softly. "I know, I know. Do you want some more soup? Perhaps it's been a few hours and it's time for you to take your medicine again?" She suggests, but you lazily shrug your shoulders. "Aren't you gonna.." Sniff "Get sick too if you stay with me..? I can take care of myself.." But despite your protests, she plants a kiss on your warm forehead.

"It's quite alright, I don't mind. You're far more important to me than the work I'd have to get done on those days of me being sick. Now, what do you need? I'll be here until you feel better."

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #bronya x reader #bronya hsr x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #herta x reader #herta hsr x reader

[enluv]

The Set Up

— jake sim x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k+! (rip my fellow mobile users...and myself this is the most I've ever written??)

warning(s): angst, fluff, slow burn, college!au, diabolical genius big brained jay

SPOTTED: a rare sighting of coco actually posting?! [REAL!]

Being in love with Park Jongseong was never in your plan. You hadn't meant to fall for him, but it happened and it happened fast. His charming smile and delicate demeanor had you swooning and just like that you'd fallen under his trance. There was just one problem. Park Jongseong was not in love with you, yet.

Jake's plan consisted of five very big and important parts. Oh yeah, another thing you hadn't counted on happening was Jake, Jay's best friend, to find out about your budding crush. He'd really stumbled on it by accident, catching you in the act of leaving his friend a letter confessing your love to him. Jake had then ridiculed you by saying, "If you want to catch his attention you can't do what every other girl does. You need to stand out," of course it discouraged you a bit but he quickly brought back up your spirits. "Luckily I'm here! Don't worry, I'll help you get him, but you have to follow my steps or it won't work, okay?" and when you'd nodded his smile grew tenfold.

STEP #1 – CATCH HIS EYE !

"Jake I really doubt he'll notice me from all the way over here," you stated, whining as the boy next to you focused on the game happening in front of him.

"Y/N he won't notice you from here but, he will notice me and once he takes a glance at you next to me, he'll be very curious." Smart plan but you’d never admit it to him.

"Well I guess that makes sense..." you mumbled turning your attention back to the game, Jay had just scored for your school's team.

Jake was right, after the game had came to an end Jay sought out his best friend, and immediately he'd stared you down as he stalked over to you two.

"Hey man, congrats on winning the game. I mean Sunghoon still looked way cooler than you but I guess you did okay," said Jake jokingly.

"Mhm yeah thanks, where did you sit? Didn't see you in the dugout."

"Oh! I sat with Y/N, we watched the game from over there. Oh yeah, Y/N! Come say hi, why are you so far from us?"

He beckoned you over with one hand, the other was placed on Jay's shoulder as he excitedly shouted your name. Taking slow paced steps towards the boys, you bowed and whispered a quick hello to them. Jake's eyes lingered on you for a bit longer than usual. This was the first time he noticed it.

STEP #2 – FLIRT WITH HIM IDIOT !

Jake claimed that after the night of Jay's baseball game, the one you'd attended, he wouldn't stop smiling and asking questions about you.

Now your mission was to flirt with him, not too hard but a few flirty comments here and there would easily help you move things along.

However, flirting with Jay proved to be a lot harder than you'd originally thought. Not only was he constantly surrounded by girls fawning over him, he was also never alone, often he could be found hanging around the other boys on his baseball team (Jake being one of them but he'd taken the semester off to focus on his studies, per his parents request). You'd hoped your professor would take a hint and pair you with Jay but with no luck he'd paired you with Jake.

Jake made your classes bearable and even a lot easier, he was naturally smart with a fun personality so classes were never a bore.

Jay watched the scene in front of him and nodded, finally understanding the situation.

STEP #3 – HANG WITH HIM ALONE ?

You'd become discouraged after step two didn't work out but Jake reassured you that you could easily redeem yourself and get the plan back on track. He had a plan, a plan that was so detailed, it couldn't be messed up. Or so he thought.

It started as any other weekend, you'd woken up to Jake pounding on your door, yelling that today was the day and to be excited. He stormed in the minute your opened the door and walked right up to your closet, quickly picking out an outfit and throwing it towards you.

"Jake will you please tell me why you just waltzed into my dorm room and rummaged my closet?"

"Yes but first get dressed, we’re on a tight schedule Y/N! Chop! Chop!" He shouted pushing you towards the bathroom to change.

"I have to admit, you have good style Jakey. Now can you tell me where you're dragging me off to?”

"Why yes I can Y/N. You see this is all part of my master plan, we are going to hang out at the mall. I invited Jay and when he gets there I'll pretend I got a call and say I need to go, inevitably leaving you two alone on a date!"

"Wait you're leaving me alone? With him?" you asked eyes wide with worry.

"Yes Y/N, a date doesn't consist of three people."He replied eyes rolling for his usual dramatic effect.

"Well not with that attitude it doesn't, and what if he knows what you're trying to do?"

"He won't. Now sit down, I told him to meet us at the food court."

Thirty full minutes had pasted and Jay was nowhere to be seen. Jake had called him three times already but to no avail he got sent straight to voice-mail.

"Maybe his phone die-" your tone was cut short as Jake's phone rang loudly, the caller ID depicting Jay's name. As Jake picked up he nodded following whatever was being said on the other line before sighing and hanging up.

"He can't make it, something about coach calling an emergency meeting for the team. So guess it'll just be us today."

"Wanna go to look at the fish down below?" you asked hoping to raise his spirits, and when a smile crawled back onto his face, you knew it'd worked.

Had you looked around just once you'd see that Jay sat a few tables away from you both, smiling as he got up to leave the mall, his plan was going smoothly.

STEP #4 – MINGLE WITH HIS FRIENDS !

Jake's plan hadn't succeeded since the first step and you'd started to get anxious, but more than anything, the silly crush you'd had on Jay was now faltering. With more unsuccessful attempts at getting his attention and even flirting with Jay the feelings you'd once claimed were love, had went and gone, but new ones had formed and it was slowly becoming more evident that it would be harder to accept them.

Jake could probably relate if he'd actually spoken to you recently, but the boy had been avoiding you ever since your accidental day alone at the mall. To recount, the day was spent laughing and smiling, no thoughts of Jay or Jake's silly plan to get you and his best friend together had crossed either of your minds. At the end of the night he walked you back to your dorm and securely held your hand the whole way. Neither of you cared really, just enjoying the time spent together.

Jake is walking towards the main buildings front office when he sees Jay pulling you along, laughing as you shout at him. His heart sinks and he realizes that maybe his silly little plan had actually worked and in turn Jay now had his eye on you.

Later that day both yourself and Jay walked into the cafe that held his other friends, some of whom you'd met before and a few you had not. With Park Sunghoon and Lee Heeseung being the only people you knew, you'd naturally drifted towards them, talking about god knows what until everyone showed up. Sunoo and Jungwon walked in first, having just gotten out of classes that both ran later than usual. Next to arrive was Riki, a high school senior who just so happened to smile his way into the college group of friends, and finally was Jake, but he wasn't alone. A hand was clutched in his, he'd introduced her as Lili. They had history of trees or something together, not that you cared much. He gushed about how smart she was as she hit his arm playfully begging for him to stop. You'd brought the cup of peach tea up to your lips to cover your scowl.

Jay watched from across the room with an amused smile. "Does he know that she's in love with him?" asked Heeseung quietly, he too watched as you'd rolled your eyes for the fifth time today.

"No I don't think so," he paused looking for the right words, "Jake was convinced she had a thing for me but it's pretty obvious to anyone who she likes."

"Jake's clueless, he'd miss a robbery even if it happen right in front of him," spoke Sunghoon.

"Maybe you should help him Jay," whispered an equally amused Heeseung before walking back to the group with his drink, Sunghoon following soon after.

STEP #5 – GET THE GUY !

It'd been two weeks (not including the week you tried but failed to get his attention) since Jake had last spoken to you. Funny how things work out, one minute you're enjoying a nice and "accidental" date and the next he had Lili hung around him twenty-four seven. Jay had reassured you multiple times that the two were not an item but it was hard to believe with the constant posts about one another that haunted your Instagram feed. Speaking of Jay, you'd made it clear to him that you didn't usher any school girl feelings for him anymore, but he knew that and when he finally got you to fess up about Jake's plan he laughed. As much as you denied liking Jake he could see right through you which lead to where you were now, stuck in your dorm with Jay babbling about how he now has a plan to get you and Jake together, funny how the two boys thought so alike.

The idea of a brand new plan did not sit right with you and you'd quickly shut it down. Jake had a “girlfriend” and you'd have to accept that.

"You're so boring Y/N, he is so in love with you. I saw it from the very first day that I laid eyes on you." Jay could honestly recount all the times he'd noticed Jake's lingering gaze on you, or the subtle touches he left, even the way he spoke to you was a sign of his true feelings.

"Jay he is not in love with me please shut up."

"Stop being stubborn and listen to me for a moment, okay?" He asked staring straight into your eyes. A satisfied hum left his lips when your mouth squeezed shut as he began.

"That day he introduced us, he didn't once look up from you. His eyes stayed on you as if you were the only person on that field. I don't know how to describe it but he just looked so smitten, I don't even think he knew it at the time."

"Jay that proves nothing, so what if he looked at me."

"Let me finish woman! I tested the theory out myself that night. I kept asking questions about you, and not for me, but for him. Y/N he knows how you like your eggs in the morning," he paused looking towards you.

"I don't like eggs."

"EXACTLY! Why the fuck does he know that? Every time I asked a question about you, he was able to answer. He literally knew so much, it was kind of concerning. Aside from that, he doesn't shut up about you, like ever. It's always Y/N this and Y/N that. No offense but I don't care if you hate milk and prefer dry cereal."

A million thoughts ran through your mind as Jay continued, "Does he really?" and "So why did he continue with the set up?" were the two most popular.

"Y/N, what happened on the day I canceled? What happened after the two of you went down to see the fish?"

Shock filled you, he was there, he had set you up.

"We spent the day together, then after he held my hand, and walked me home."

"SEE HE DOES LIKE YOU IDIOT! WHY WOULDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT HAPPENED? I'VE BEEN MAKING A FOOL OF MYSELF TRYING TO CONVINCE YOU," he shouted jumping up from the floor and pointing an accusing finger at you.

"He was just being nice Jay, it's common courtesy to walk someone home when it's late at night."

"No he was not and I'll prove it to you! Watch." Jay pulled his phone from his back pocket quickly dialing Jake's numbers. After three rings he picked up, muttering a small hello to Jay.

"Jake I'm gonna do it, but I need your help." Confusion spread across your face as he spoke in hushed whispers.

"Yes this Friday," his voice grew louder as he faced you, "yes Jake, this Friday, as in tommorrow, I'm going to ask Y/N to be my girlfriend."

Silence filled Jake's side of the line, he stood frozen. He was too late.

As Jay hung up his smile grew sheepish. "Jay what the hell do you mean you're going to ask me to be your girlfriend. I thought we established that I like Jake, as in your best friend.”

“3...2...1!”

Your phones text tone sounded just as Jay concluded his countdown and a single message popped into your notifications:

Jake: Can we meet at the mall? Have to talk to you about something before tomorrow. Please?

Jay’s face held a smirk that screamed, “I told you so.”

STEP #6 – WELL, KISS HIM !

Jake Sim is great at many things, he's a star athlete, top of his class, an amazing barista on the weekend, and so much more but what he isn’t so great at is expressing how he truly feels when under pressure, and that's exactly why he's had you sitting in front of him for about an hour now just babbling about plain nonsense that even he's annoyed with.

“Jake, is there a reason you asked me to meet you after avoiding me for weeks or can I go? Jay and I have plans.”

His faces falls momentarily but he's quick to mask the hurt, “Are you guys a thing now?”

He knows asking this question can only hurt him, Jay was pretty clear on the phone about where you two stood or where you will stand tomorrow. Even he himself isn’t too sure why he's called you here on a random thursday night but hearing what Jay planned to do had sent him spiraling.

“Why does it matter to you? Wasn't getting us together your whole idea in the first place?” You'd never meant to sound so harsh but having been ignored by him for weeks on end only to see how easy it was for him to contact you felt upsetting, betraying even in a way.

“What if that's not what I want anymore.” The sentence comes out confidently and loud enough for not only you to hear but Jay included, who was hidden away not too far from you both after insisting he come with.

Jake isn't sure how it happens but the next moment he remembers is feeling your lips crash onto his, the feeling warm and almost familiar and as you two pull part you whisper the words, “That's all I wanted to hear idiot.”

EPILOGUE: THE SET UP !

“Dude are you ready to go? If we miss the last game because you're too busy making out with Y/N, I’ll actually kill you both,” shouted an annoyed Jay through his roommates closed door.

A soft giggled escaped your lips as you fixed his uniform, “We should get going before he comes in here and beats you up, it’d be pretty sad to have a black eye for your last game of the season babe.”

In the end both Jay and Jake revealed their not so subtle plans to one another, both laughing at just how far they'd go to help the other find happiness.

Although Jake’s plan hadn't reached its initial ending he was happy with its results nonetheless. Jake often secretly thanked Jay for forgetting his baseball glove back then in his locker so many months ago, though at the time he had cursed at him in his head a few times, if Jay hadn’t been so forgetful he would have never caught you leaving a love letter to his best friend which is what initially started your plan together, and that plan had just so happen to start the beginning of his long happy life, with you by his side forever.

coco’s ♡ note: Hello my lovely toots! I have truthfully had this in my drafts for over a year now and could never seem to complete it but here it is, all done and happily finished! I hope you can enjoy it as much as I do, it took me forever but I’m glad I am now able to share this piece with you! Take it as my small way of coming back to writing :) Feedback is greatly appreciated since this is my first piece in a while and I want to know your thoughts on it if that's possible! 

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen jake #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim scenarios #jake sim imagines #sim jake angst #jake angst #jake sim

[ahungeringknife]

slightly new and improved Writeblr intro

About me

I'm bb (bibi, and BB are fine but not Bb, that's a writing signature not mine), 30+, queer, she/they, and I like to write.

My fave genres are fantasy, scifi, and romance. Sometimes with historical fiction and slice of life thrown in too.

I have a probably unhealthy amount of OCs and I want all of them to kiss.

I write both fanfic and original stuff.

I mostly post my own writing, writeblr games, and posts that give me crazy OC thoughts to be tagged. I don't reblog a lot of writing advice or self deprecating writer posts because honestly? Couldn't be me.

I did a HUGE writing challenge this year that was an attempt to write 365 1-shots. One a day. I failed but that's okay. I wrote like 200 of them and that's great and I'm proud of myself.

This is a side blog. I follow from @xaz-fr

I love asks and tumblr messages. I do writeblr games but I could really use some writeblr friends to tag in the ones I do get :,D

I'd love to look at your stuff. You should def show me your writing in a reply or reblog :3

Main tags (that aren't WIPs)

#365 - the big year long project. It has some original stuff, and some fanfic. Lots of adult themes. Lots of original spooky stuff. Lots of 'horror and love are the same thing actually'. Things that are Very Adult are posted on AO3 with a link.

#Fey Alliance - catch all tag for my main setting, the Fey Alliance

#rattling - headcanons, world building, story thoughts, character questions, commentary. Mostly any original posts that aren't writing.

WIPs

The Zealous Servant - Dark high fantasy with lots of magic, necromancers, gods, and political drama. The main character Spayar needs to help his friend the crown prince kill the entire royal family before they turn around and do the same to him in order to claim the throne. Very queer, and is written for an adult audience not YA.

Entropy - My main fanfic WIP from the Destiny 2 fandom. Follows my OCs on their journey to bully the fuck out of Shin Malphur; resident Worst Guy Ever. Along the way he gets a hot girlfriend and I force him to have some actual friends because his lone wolf shtick is tired and stupid lol.

Lonos [working title] - This is a backburner one I need to really hash out a bit more. So I'll probably be posting a lot of rattlings about this one. Vaguely middle eastern appearance in setting about a traveling circus where all the players are also mercenaries for hire. Post a massive plague that wiped out almost all the magic users on the continent and the ones that are still around are viewed as cursed or unclean. (I swear I had this idea before the panny :,D) Gonna be a big long gay slow burn. For adult audiences.

Witchbane - Another backburner one I need to churn out some rattlings about. Steampunk set in a country called Ravthica where everyone thinks magic isn't real. When Spencer's parents go missing he's got to start believing in magic real quick when the hag that lives on his family's property tells him witches kidnapped his parents and the only way to get them back is to kill them. But witch hunting isn't exactly easy and he needs the help of some Wild things to find the witches that want his family and their witch hunting dogs all dead. For YA audiences.

#writeblr #writblr #writeblr intro #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #creative writing #writers

[sensei-venus]

Serpent-Cide (2/?)

(Unedited) (IDK what to tag for this chapter.)

(Part One|Part Two|Part Three|TBA|)

Veronica’s gaze seemed to stare into my soul to a point thought she was trying to read my thoughts. Though she wouldn't find many at this point. My only thought in the moment was trying to find a way out of this shitty situation.

“Reader can you please come over here, I have a list of students for you as well. You will need to show them around for the next week or so until they are acclimated.” she said with a serious tone. She waved a piece of paper around, pointing it in my direction. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. A few drops of blood welled in my mouth as I looked at her, but I knew people where looking at me now. I could feel their states, from both sides of the room.

This is what I dreaded about even doing this stupid thing.

Now I really did wish I would have just skipped this whole gawk feast.

I gently clawed at my backpack straps and walked over to them. Archie stepped out of the way so I could reach the other girl. I quickly and quietly took the paper from her hand. She gave only a small almost emotionless smile. It was like there was nothing there. No real feeling behind the borderline dead smile. Girls like Veronica, like Cheryl, were really good at faking those little smiles.

Just looking at her like that made me shiver a little. I tried my best to suck it up and pretend I couldn't tell it wasn't real.

Cheryl scoffed from a foot or so away from us and rolled her eyes.

“Oh of course you guys had to get tubby involved in this mess. Can't believe you talked Little Miss Lard Ass into coming out and helping you with this little degenerate fest your having.” she laughed. It echoed through the hallway. A few people laughed alongside her but I didn't pay much attention to it. It wasn't the first time she or any of these other assholes made a fat joke about me. Wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time she heard it out of one of their mouths. I simply rolled my eyes and kept reading the paper I was given.

“Yeahhhh Cheryl, Lard Ass is just a tad bit warmer than the soul-sucking succubus that you are these days. These people came to get an education, not to get their souls ripped from their bodies in order to feed your ever-growing ego.” I muttered. It was loud enough that she scoffed in pure shock. A few people around me laughed, Betty paled a little while Veronica smirked a little. Archie’s seemed to zip his lip at the comment.

I looked up from the paper to find Cheryl glaring at me, her face turing that classic cherry red of hers. She almost looked to be steaming which was a sight for sour eyes. Digging myself into a hole with one of the biggest people in town was horrible to think about, but at this point, I didn't want to think too hard about it. Staying out of the spotlight was my thing, but dipping my toe into some drama every once in a while to piss someone like Cheryl off was worth it.

Being able to infuriate a girl like Cheryl Blossom was a treat.

A small look of genuine confusion seemed to cross some of the newcomer's faces. I didn't expect them to understand how my words burned the other girl so badly. But they would eventually learn the food chain of the school. It was just a matter of time. I could only imagine what SouthSide High’s food chain looked like. It was probably even more nasty than the one here. We had to deal with rich kids and steroid junky jocks.

They had to deal with gangbangers and regular junkies.

Both Reggie and Cheryl made a loud exit as they grew board of their surroundings. Realizing their little game was getting old for the time being.

“Any of you do a thing out of line, I'll know about it.” She hissed. Soon enough she was storming up the stairs with a group of cheerleaders. Reggie smirked in my direction. I felt like gagging at the sight. He was quick to follow Cheryl, some of the jocks close behind. The sound of their voices boomed up the staircase.

My attention was drawn back to the paper in my hand.

I felt kinda of lucky after reading over the list, I only had about four people to look after. I did find it comical that they decided to stick Jughead with me. Poor guy was already a student, he left a few weeks ago and now he's back. It's as if he was never even a student at the school, treating him like some no-name transfer student.

Said once and I'll say it again, this school blows.

The next few minutes went by in a blur as the new students flooded the table. Snatching up paper after paper until the whole table was completely picked over and cleaned. Not one single schedule or map was left. It was only a few minutes later that the excitement started to slowly die down. Small groups of southsiders started to line the hall, talking with each other and going over their schedules together. It was clear that most of them seemed to be hoping to stick together.

Wishing to be put into the same classes as one another. I could feel for them in that since, being stuck into a new school surrounded by kids that hated them already. Not just because they where in a gang, but because they came from a different side of town that was labeled a shit hole.

I tried my best to not look at them with pity, but it was hard. It was hard not to feel bad for them.

I sighed to myself and looked at the paper one more time. There was only a small scene of relief that filled me as I found one particular name, it stuck out like a thumb.

Jughead Jones, types in a bold black font.

My eyes where quick to scan the small crowed, finding his iconic beanie. That thing was like a beacon. The guy has been wearing that things since…forever? I can still remember seeing him in middle school wearing the same exact hat. He occasionally switched some of the pins on it every once in a while. But I could tell that it was the same one.

Jug and me where decent acquaintance, possibly better then my relationship with Betty. JugHead didn’t bother to make a friendship with me what so ever. He hardly asked questions, didn’t try to insert himself into my business and didn’t make a big effort to go out of his way to bother me.

Sitting in silence was good enough for the both of us.

Which was just what I wanted.

My feet carried me over to him and the little group he was talking to. Four of them stud talking about something in a small circle in whispers. As soon as I made my presence know they separated.

Looking at Jug I raised a brow, no longer did he act like the guy I knew. His stance and posture were looser than usual, more toned. He stood taller with his shoulders proud and strong.

Did Jughead grow more of a backbone sense I last saw him? Maybe hanging out in the southside did something for him. Out of nowhere I got a feeling, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stick up. Maybe Jughead finally ended up following in his dad’s footsteps. It wasn’t that out there of a possibility.

“Really can't believe they roped you into doing this. What did they threaten you with this time? It's got to be something big to get you to hang around anyone in this school.” Jug mused as he looked by way. His eyes filled with a bit of amusement. His natural sarcasm seemed to ooze out. I rolled my eyes saying “ They threatened me using the stupid ass volunteer hours, apparently I don't have any for this semester. It was either I do this or they pull something out of a hat to get me with at the end of the year. And as you can tell, no one was exactly jumping to get this opening.” I crossed my arms. He didn't say mush to that, only giving a small nod. The guy behind him, the one with the tattoo on his neck didn't seem to get it.

“What are you to scared of us? Like the rest of you shitty northsiders!” the guy almost barked. Once again rage seemed to flare up inside him, quickly bursting out of the seems. He definitely had some minor anger issues going on. His brows knitted together and his adams apple bobbed. I tried my best not to flinch at his harsh tone. Jug looked like he wanted to say something but it died on his tongue.

I snapped back “You think I really fucking care? Half of these kids have only heard about the southside, they haven't even left the this side of the tracks their whole lives. The only reason why they make a big deal about it is because it's a chain reaction of the rich people on the northside wanting to show off how classiest they are. You think I've been to the southside?” the guy was silent.

“Iv seen a bit of it but have never actually been. Last time I checked, Southsiders don't make a huge habit of coming all the way over here for fun. Iv never done anything to you guys and you haven't done anything to me. So, once again, why the fuck should I care about any of you so long as you aren't messing with me?” my tone was slightly aggravated with a sense of boredom backing it. It wasn't every day someone tried to pick a real fight with me.

Then again I had never actually met a real southside serpent before. 

There was a long pause of silence between all five of us. We all just stud around, not another word being uttered. Jughead cut the act for a moment and scratched at the back of his head. Seeming to be a bit embarrassed at the other teens outburst, even the girl next to him seemed annoyed. Unlike Jug she seemed to be more use to his outbursts, she simply rolled her eyes at him.

“Reader I-”

“No I get it Jughead, they're being cautious. But-” I paused and looked at the taller boy “Just know that I probably dislike this school and the people in it just as much as them. I don't like this school, I don't like the kids, and most of all I don't give two shits about this town. If you want to start something, take that crap to the jocks not me.” he stepped back a little bit. His face was ever so slightly relaxed. Just enough that the crease in his brow disappeared. I could still see the way his ears flushed under his dark black locks. His gaze shifted from me to the guy beside him, the shorter serpent gave him a hard look. They stared at each other for a good minute before he finally relaxed.

Jaw locked hard as he just looked back in my direction.

Shuffling a little I handed the paper still held to Jughead. He took a moment and looked it over before handing it back.

“So you got me and these guys.” he threw a thumb behind him.

“Im guessing, if you have a Toni, Fang and Sweet Pea??” I said with a little bit of question at the end. I wanted to question the name Fang but I also wanted to know the reason behind Sweet Pea. Fang was an interesting name, to say the least. But Sweet Pea? That was both sweet and odd. It wasn't a very comment nickname to my knowledge, maybe a sweet endurance kinda of thing. Never had I met someone who actually went by the nickname before on a daily basis. The girl tried to hold back a snicker, covering her mouth with her jacket sleeve which didn't go unnoticed by the others. She was quick to cough trying to cover her slip-up.

“If we could just all chill out for one second, please. Reader isn't a threat to the serpents, I can cover her on that.” Jug said looking back at his friends. They all kinds looked at each other, thinking on if they could actually trust his word. Seconds later it looked like they had reached some sort of unspoken argument. The other three nodded to one another before looking back at me.

“So do you want my help or not? Knowing you Jughead, this is a cake walk being you have already gone to school here. Do you want me to help your little friends or not? I still have to do something to at least look a little busy like I'm actually helping you guys out.” the idea to leave all of that stuff up to Jughead crossed my mind. He was smart, he could do all the stuff the school wanted me to help out with. But then it felt kinda of mean to just dump it all on him. There were three different people he would have to show around school and then to all their classes. I may be a ass in my own right but…it just seemed wrong.

“How about we split it? I already know where all of my classes are. Let's check their schedules, I'll take who ever has most of my classes and you take the ones who have more of your classes. Deal?” he quirks a brow my way. I give a small nod and watch as he collects the other's class schedules. Stepping over to me we both check over their papers.

A spark of hope went through me as I noticed only one of them seemed to have a good portion of classes with me.

Sweet Pea.

“Seems like I'll be taking Sweet Pea off your hands then.” I gave a half smile to Jug. All he did was him before stuffing the other papers into his friend's hands again. Looking over them again my eyes land on the girl. She gave me a smile but before I could even give one back, my hopes of being stuck with another girl were dashed.

The tattooed boy stepped out of the group and walked closer to me.

I could feel my eye begging to twitch behind my eyelid.

Why the fuck did “Sweet Pea” have to be what looked to be a six-three-tattooed man. One who just minutes ago was trying to get into my face.

“Well this is Sweet Pea. I'll trust you will be as nice as YOU can possibly be right. No bumping him in the hallway when you get tired of him. I know your way.”

“Please tell me you're not still mad when I left your ass in the gym that one time because you wouldn't take the hint to leave me alone.”

“Maybe I am, just a tiny bit.” he said with a bit of annoyance. Leave it to Jug to be still pissed about such a little thing.

“Now Sweet Pea, try not to bite off her head. We will meet you at lunch.” He said looking up at the other boy. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes as he watched Jughead start walking off. The girl who I could only now assume was Toni patted him on the shoulder before following Jug. Fang grinned at him and just laughed, giving him a hard slap to the should before jogging off to catch up with the other two. Sweet Pea grimaced as he watched them leave. His eyes trailed down the hall until they disappeared around a sharp corner. I couldn't help but do the same, watching them go.

“So are you going to show me around this place or what?” his voice made me shiver. It was deep and echoed. It wasn't thick but rang in my ear as he spoke. The angriness from his voice had long died. Now all that filled it was sarcasm and mischief. It was laced into a simple statement. 

“Your going to be a pain in the ass aren't you?”

All he did was smirk before ripping his schedule from my hands.

I can't have nice things can I.

(Don't worry y'all, Sweet Pea will have more attention next chapter promise! We just have to work up to it. This is a slow-building fix.😚)

#riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale headcanons #riverdale x reader #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea #sweet pea x chubby reader #sweet pea x reader #riverdale x chubby reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #loner!reader #southside serpents

[soleilceirinen]

Strawberry fields forever (Cillian Murphy x Reader) - Part 2

Summary: Just a cute moment with your toddler and your husband Cillian after he came back from a project that kept him away for some time, at night you show him how much you missed him.

A/N: this is fiction, not based in real life. I respect Cillian's private life as well as his family, so this story sets in an alternate universe. English is not my first language, sorry if something doesn't make sense and thanks for reading!

Warning: this part contains smut*, just that. Don't read it if you are a minor.

Part 1 - Masterlist

You put the children’s story book on the nightstand and observed your son, making sure that he was completely asleep. His breathing was regular and calm. With his eyes closed and the light hair falling over his forehead, he looked like a little angel. You covered him tightly with the blanket and made sure his favorite teddy was next to him before heading towards the hallway, trying not to make the slightest noise to wake him up.

Cillian was staring at you there, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I’m quite surprised at how quick he has fallen asleep,” he whispered, “usually it takes longer, right?”

He had taken Scout for a walk while you put your little boy to sleep. By the time Cillian was back, the child was already dreaming. You closed your son’s door and hugged your husband’s waist, burning your face in his chest and smelling his scent. You had missed this.

“It takes longer, yes. But today he was exhausted after playing so much with you and Scout. I don’t understand how you are not falling apart right now.” After giving him a peck on the lips, you walked to your bedroom with him following. “You are not tired, are you?”

“A few sleep hours won’t hurt.”

You frowned and pouted, pretending to be sad. “That is such a pity, Cill. I have been waiting the whole day to have you all by myself and now it turns out that you want to sleep. What a bummer.”

He watched you with eager eyes, reaching to caress your cheek. “Do you have a better plan?”

His voice was deeper than usual. You nodded and looked at him through your eyelashes. 

“You have been playing with the baby and Scout the whole afternoon, now it is my turn,” you said softly. “Do you want to play with me, Cillian?”

Your husband gulped, his normally blue eyes beginning to darken. "Let's play."

With a smile on your face, you turned to one of the dressers and rummaged around until you pulled out a silk scarf that Cillian gave you on your second anniversary. You held the piece of fabric in front of you for him to see it, he smiled sideways knowing what you were planning to do. With a hand on his shoulder you pushed him down until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I will cover your eyes, okay?”, he nodded, hugging your thighs. You did as you said, covering his eyes with the soft fabric and tying a knot at the back of his head. After that, you moved a few fingers in front of his face but he couldn’t see anything. “Cillian, take off your clothes and lie down, I'll be right back. Don't remove the scarf from your eyes.”

“Wait, where are you going?”, he reached blindly to grab you, but you were already out of his reach. 

“Just wait and do as I say, It won’t take long.”

Then, you rushed down the stairs to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you grabbed the bottle of whipped cream and headed back to the second floor. Cillian was sitting on the bed, in a similar position in which you had left him but now he was naked. He heard you arriving and raised his head in your direction. 

“I told you to lie down,” you muttered, although you enjoyed the view. 

After closing the bedroom door, you got closer to Cillian and pushed him to make him fall backwards on the mattress. He repositioned himself on the bed to be more comfortable, turning his head in the direction he heard you moving around the room as you took off your clothes.

“Tell me the word, Cill,” you asked, running a finger across his jaw. He gulped, making his Adam's apple rise and fall. 

“Strawberry,” he said in a husky voice. 

You hummed in approval. Then, you  grabbed the whipped cream bottle and climbed onto him, straddling his thighs. His breathing was starting to get faster. Without warning him, you put a splash of whipped cream on his right nipple, making him squirm under you. “Shit, Y/N. It’s cold,” he whimpered. 

“Shh, you are going to like it. It is cold because it was in the fridge.”

Leaning over his chest, you licked his nipple with a long, slow stroke, taking the cream with your tongue. “Mmm, you taste really good, Cillian.” You purred in his ear. He reached and grabbed your ass, squeezing it.  

Bringing your attention to the other nipple, you put more whipped cream there. With parsimony, you traced small circles around the sensitive spot with your tongue, eating the sweet substance, licking until his skin was clean again. 

Gently, you caught the tip of his erected nipple between your teeth. Cillian let out a moan as he shivered underneath your body. His back was arched and his neck exposed, so you took advantage of it. You kissed his jaw, his neck and then you descended down his clavicles to his pecs and his stomach. There was no need to rush, taking your time, as if you wanted to kiss every freckle of his body. 

“Let me see you, Y/N,” he pleaded, squeezing your thighs with his hands once more. Probably, the next day you would wake up with his fingers marked on your skin, but you didn't care.

“I don’t know, honey. I need to think about it.”

“Please, I want to see how you suck me.” 

With a sight, you reached to the back of his head and unknotted the silky material, which glided smoothly out of his face. Cillian blinked a few times, adjusting his vision to the light, although the room was barely lit. His eyes lit up when he focused on you, towering over him as a mythological warrior, with your hair falling like a cascade at your back. You looked powerful. He then noticed the whipped cream bottle that you were holding and bit his lip, with his pupils more dilated than before. 

You hesitated for a moment, considering if it would be safe to put whipped cream over his penis. Cillian saw your hesitation, so he moved his hips against you, desperate for some friction. 

Without a second thought, you covered the tip of his length with the white cream, the sight of it made you laugh. In your city they had opened a waffle shop that made penis-shaped waffles. You used to joke with your friends about it, saying that you were going to meet to eat a cock. 

“What’s so funny?,” he wondered, panting and leaning on his elbows.

“Nothing,” you managed to say while laughing at the situation. “It just reminded me of the waffle-cock, do you remember?”

He seemed completely lost, staring at you as if you had grown a second head. 

“I sent you a picture of it while you were away, it’s a place where they make waffles in the shape of a dick and you can choose the toppings,” you explained excitedly, letting yourself get carried away by the memory. 

But you quickly returned your attention to your husband’s dick, not the waffle one, and its white covered tip. Holding it gently, you introduced it in your mouth. With wide movements, you brushed your tongue over its surface, tasting the sweet whipped cream mixed with a bit of pre cum. You gave a little kiss to his tip and looked up to see his face. 

Cillian was glancing at you through half closed eyelids, his mouth ajar. The sight made your walls clench. Taking a deep breath, you licked your lips and leaned over his length, licking slowly from the base to the tip and back. 

You took him in your mouth and started to move. Cillian put a hand on the back of your head to lead you, suddenly pulling your hair after a while. He was almost there, you could feel him throbbing in your mouth, along with the sounds of pleasure that escaped from his parted lips. He let out a groan when he finally came, releasing his seed down your throat. 

When he let go of your hair, you wiped the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand and filled it with more whipped cream, the sweetness taking over all of your taste buds.

You got up from Cillian’s legs and walked to the bathroom inside your bedroom, with his gaze following your naked body from the bed. In the bathroom, you grabbed a hand towel and dampened it slightly with water. Returning to the bed with your husband, you gently rubbed the towel over his sensitive nipples and crotch, wiping away any sticky traces of whipped cream that were left behind. 

After leaving the towel in the laundry basket, you lay down next to him, throwing one leg over his body. He hugged you, tracing shapes on your bare back.

“I have missed you so much, Cillian,” you whispered against his chest after a minute. He pulled you closer to kiss your head. 

“Me too, and the little guy,” he told you in a low voice. 

You smiled. “What about Scout?”

Cillian chuckled. “I have missed Scout the most. I couldn't stop thinking about going out to walk him and pick up his poop.” 

You punched him playfully on the ribs. “Well, I spent a month alone doing it and cleaning your son’s poop. It’s your turn now.” 

He hummed as you reached the switch to turn the lights off. In the darkness you had an idea. 

“Tomorrow I will take you to that place I mentioned before to eat a waffle-cock!”, you whispered-screamed in his ear with excitement. “You are going to love it, Cill.”

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #alternate universe #soleilceirinen writes

[bolithesenate]

The origin of Sifo's hair loopies?

"Jo, what are you doing?," Sifo tried to peer at her busy fingers doing... something with a section of hair at the side of his forehead.

"Hush, hold still." She sent him a cautionary jab over the Force, concentrated solely on her little project. "I just learned how to do this, so don't fuck this up."

What 'this' was got revealed to Sifo-Dyas about half an hour later as he peered curiously into a reflective bit of a spoon (due to grievous lack of mirrors in the Archives). He tilted his head, shaking it a bit, the movement sending Jocasta's hairdresserial masterworks (?) swaying.

"And what are they?," he asked again, looking at his very proud looking friend.

"It's a Knight-braid," Jocasta said proudly, "I learned about them when I visited Jedha. Apparently they fell out of fashion already back in Grandmaster Sunrider's time, but there's still records of how to do them."

Sifo looked back into the spoon. Shook the braids some more. "Knight braids, huh," he murmured, "I've never heard of those. You sure that was a real thing that existed?"

She shrugged, already going back to her half-finished kaf she'd gotten before their little pause mid mission-prep. It must have been ice cold by now, Sifo would never understand how she could still drink it like that.

"Does it matter if they did?," she quipped back, before downing the contents of the cup. "They're cute and they suit you. Way better than that stupid beard Yan has been growing out."

Oh, so this was about the beard.

Sifo should have known.

"Maybe if it grows long enough you can braid that too?," he couldn't help but tease her, "You know, get some old traditions up and going again? Maybe start a new trend while you're at it?"

All he got was a look that could have shock-frozen Mustafar twice over. "Do not," she mocked throwing the kf cup at him, "even joke about that, Sifo. I'd rather personally shave down Master Tyvokka before touching that... thing."

Sifo laughed, fingers already reaching to play with the new braids. They were fun. "Oh, don't act like that. You can't fault him for trying to hide his babyface. There's been talks of him getting offered a Council Seat, you know. He's been stressing out over it all month."

"And his solutions to that was to grow a beard over it?" Jocasta sounded dubious. "I don't know. Sounds like a case for the mind healer to me."

"Oh shut it," he flicked her though the Force, "I think it looks stately."

"Of course you do." Her defiant murmur was barely audible, buried behind the datapad she'd pulled out. "Suckup."

"Not everyone is on a crusade against all facial hair like you are," Sifo singsonged happily, ignoring her dramatic mood (it was mostly an act anyways). "A bit of self expression won't do our dear Yan any harm."

Jocasta's face darkened further. "Not him maybe, but just see how you'll feel about it when it gives you beard-burn. That shit sucks."

Sifo snickered. "Advice taken."

"I'm serious, Sy."

"And I'll keep it in mind, Jo." He scooted over to her, flinging one of the newly installed braids against her cheek. "Plus, you've given me the weapons to defend myself now, haven't you?"

With an annoyed groan, Jocasta simply reached out, quick as lightning, and grabbed Sy's entire face, pushing him away. "Stop that you little kriffer," she complained, "I'm already regretting this, just so you know."

Sifo let himself be pushed away. Then he waited a few moments, before immediately diving back in, tackling his smaller friend in a hug. "Nahh," he said happily, rubing his face against her side, "You love me. You love the braids. Show me how to do them myself?"

"You're gonna keep them?," she asked, peering down on him. It was evident that she was flattered by the idea. Flattered that he'd liked them.

Sifo grinned up at her. "Of course. As I said, I gotta be able to beat back Yan's beard-attacks, don't I."

"Hmm." She looked off, clearly fighting down a smile. "I'll see what I can do."

#lol i wasn't sure if this was a prompt or not #but i took it as one bc i had a sudden epiphany #tbh ive thought about the origin of the loopies before #and theres many ideas ive been toying with #but them being smt that my favorite history nerd jocasta dug out from somewhere and then just installed on him is my fave one #sometimes you gotta let your friends do stuff to your hair #random boli thoughts #star wars #jocasta nu #sifo dyas #me writing #answering asks #⛏️⛏️⛏️ #also yes i hc jocasta to be an absolute beard hater #why? because my mom is and it's a constant source of jokes in my family

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 30 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2563 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Would being close to him still hurt if I weren't in mourning for everything I had lost? Would it still burn if there were no obstacles between us, no moral and painful restrictions preventing me from allowing myself to get lost in his embrace, his kisses, his touch? Did he know that I loved him, with a certainty as vast and bright as the sun? Did I want to make sure he did?

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle

✦ a/n: hi, guys! just wanted to let everyone know that as promised, I'll start posting these last few parts twice a week - on Mondays and then on Thursdays or Fridays, depending on how much free time I have. Hope you enjoy this one, feedback is welcome! 🖤

✧ you can blame it on the stars, you can tell it to the moon / baby, I used to be good but I went bad for you / you can try and escape me but I came for you ✧

"Thanks, Amsterdam! You guys rocked!" James shouted, a massive grin plastered on his face, eyes lit up with sheer excitement as the pumped-up crowd went wild with applause.

I couldn't help but crack a smile at the scene – James, Lars, Kirk, and Cliff showing their appreciation in those closing moments of the gig. It hit me then; I had missed this, the thrill, the carefree laughs, that electric buzz running through me. Snagging another beer from the cooler stashed at the stage corner, I trailed backstage, tagging along with Leanne and Pat.

Pretty soon, the guys sauntered in, all laughter and loud banter. Cliff led the charge into the dressing room, a damp towel draped around his shoulders and a joint already fired up. He shot us a grin before chiming in:

"Not too shabby for our first gig away from home, huh?"

"You guys killed it, as usual." Leanne beamed, striding over. She wrapped her arms around Cliff's neck, going up on tiptoes to plant a kiss on him. He chuckled, giving her a tight squeeze, and I couldn't help but smile at the sweet scene.

"We kicked ass!" Lars cheered, grinning from ear to ear. He whipped out a bottle of vodka from the mystery depths of wherever and began pouring shots. "Now, it's drinkin' time, and we're gonna soak in some Venom. Fucking Venom, man!"

"Think they'll autograph my guitar?" Kirk joked, laughing, as he swiftly downed his vodka shot. I chuckled, genuinely pumped, and joined in, pouring myself a shot of vodka. I glanced up when I sensed a weight on my shoulders – there was James, slinging an arm around me before snagging a vodka glass for himself.

"You're all sweaty," I scrunched up my face, and he just laughed, knocking back his vodka shot in one go.

"Wanna hop in the shower with me?" he teased in a husky chuckle, giving my cheek a quick kiss before sauntering off to join Pat. I stood there, dumbfounded, my face burning as I touched the spot on my cheek still tingling from his lips.

The guys headed for a shower break while the stage got prepped for the night's main event. Leanne joined Cliff in the shower, but Pat and I hung back in the dressing room. We polished off the vodka bottle while I enjoyed a smoke, chatting quietly.

"So, how's the tour life treating you?" I tossed out, more to fill the quiet air than anything else. Ever since I had ditched my gig at the record store after splitting with Dave, Pat and I hadn't talked at all. Now, seeing her all cozy with James felt a bit off. I couldn't shake off Leanne's words, about Pat maybe digging the idea of James more than the real deal of who he was.

"Oh, it's been fucking amazing!" she beamed, eyes gleaming as she popped open another beer. Her slightly rosy cheeks betrayed how intoxicated she was. "James has been dragging me to all sorts of gigs since we started dating. Bummer you've been missing out lately."

"Well, I'm here now," I flashed a smile, attempting to mask my unease. Thankfully, I wasn't stuck in the conversation for too long; a quick guitar chord played, signaling that Venom’s gig was kicking off. I rose with a smile that might've been just a bit forced. "The show's starting. Want to catch it?"

"I'll wait for James," she smiled, and I gave a nod before ducking out of the dressing room.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps down the corridor when I collided with James, heading the other way, shirtless, and holding yet another half-full bottle of vodka. A surprised sound escaped me as he snagged me by the waist, pulling me in with a grin the moment he spotted me.

"Hey, sweetheart. I was waitin' for you in the shower, you know?" he whispered in my ear, followed by a low chuckle. I knitted my brows, fighting off the way his voice sent my heart racing, and gave him a shove.

"James, are you out of your mind?" I grumbled, and he laughed, releasing me. "You fucking drunkard."

He just stuck out his tongue, taking another swig from the vodka bottle before strolling back toward the dressing room. I debated whether to trail after him, to coax him into some water to sober up, but then it hit me that Pat was still there, waiting. Suddenly, the buzz and beats from the stage sounded way more inviting; last thing I needed was to be alone in a room with Pat, James, and no one else.

The show was insane, just like I’d expected. Venom's tunes were fast and intense, and the hype from my friends definitely drowned out any worries I might've had. I couldn't give two cents that neither James nor Pat bothered to show up for the gig; right then, nothing and no one could ruin my mood.

There wasn't much time for a post-Venom celebration; in a flash, the gear was packed, and the producer corralled us onto the bus for the next city. As a last-ditch effort, we all got handed water to help shake off the buzz. It did the trick better for some than others; Cliff and Leanne seemed pretty chill, but I was starting to feel a bit queasy, and Lars and Kirk were cackling like a couple of goofballs, while James showed up being practically carried by one of the roadies. Pat stormed past the chaos, looking royally pissed, and hopped on the bus without saying a word to anyone. I ambled over, curious.

"Hey, what happened?" I inquired, but that just triggered another round of laughter from Lars and Kirk. I turned my gaze to James, who was seated on the sidewalk, sipping water with a seriously annoyed look on his face. "Everything alright?"

"You have no idea," Lars managed to say, trying to catch his breath between laughs. "James, spill it."

I shifted my focus to James, now intrigued. He glanced up at me and then shrugged with a grunt.

"Pat wanted to fuck… And I puked on her."

"You did what? " I exclaimed, incredulous, while Kirk and Lars cracked up even louder. James scowled, clearly annoyed by their reaction, but truth be told, I couldn't blame them. I was trying to stifle my own laughter, a goofy grin stubbornly plastered on my face. Instead of joining in the laughter, I handed him the water bottle I got after the show, still half full. "Here. Drink more water."

"What about you?" he asked, taking my bottle. I shrugged.

"Hey, I wasn’t the one who puked on someone today, right? Trust me, you need it more than I do."

After that, we didn't waste much time getting on the bus – nothing fancy, just your regular travel bus with reclining seats that doubled as our beds for the night. The crew stashed the gear in the cargo area, and we all picked our spots; the tech crew grabbed the front seats, Cliff and Leanne chose a spot towards the middle.

Pat claimed a seat upfront, away from James, who settled in with Lars and Kirk. It seemed she was still nursing some feelings about the dressing room incident, but at least she managed to shower and change before hopping on. I found a spot further back, alone, close to the mini-fridge for easy access to some water. It felt good to have a little alone time, even if it was just for some shut-eye; despite the fatigue, it seemed like it was gonna be a pretty long night.

I spent the first few hours of the trip soaking in the view from the window. At first, it was the city lights casting a glow as we cruised through the streets. As we hit the open road, it transitioned into an abyss of darkness.

I sensed his presence even before seeing him; I felt his gaze on me, and I lifted my eyes as he settled into the seat next to mine.

"James," I murmured, my weary voice signaling that I'd probably have dozed off any moment if he hadn't dropped by. "Feeling any better?"

"Took a power nap, so I think so," he grumbled.

"Did you brush your teeth? 'Cause tomorrow morning's gonna taste gross if you don't."

"Of course, silly," he chuckled softly, then took my hand in his.

I knew I probably shouldn't encourage him, but I didn't pull it away. His hand felt big and warm, and I found comfort in his touch more than I was willing to admit. His thumb gently stroked the back of my hand.

"You shouldn't do this," I muttered, and he let out a huff.

"I'm just holding your hand. Can't I even do that?"

I sighed. Exhaustion weighed on me. All I really wanted was to surrender, rest my head on his chest, and let him hold me until morning. But I couldn't, could I? Not when he had a girlfriend. Not when the specter of my past love for Dave haunted me every moment of my days, my nights, my life.

"I'm gonna break up with Pat," he declared, and I looked up, feeling my heart race. A surge of conflicting emotions hit me; hearing that made me happy, and that scared me the most. 

"Why?" was all I could whisper. He sighed.

"I can't keep this up, Nore. She's a cool girl, but I don’t like her that way. Not the way I like you,” he murmured, and my heart fluttered at the vulnerability in his voice. "I don't want to be a jerk, I don't want to be with someone I'm not in love with. I'm gonna end it with her, and then..." his gaze, almost pleading, locked onto mine. "All I want is you. But if you don't want me..."

I reached my hand to his face. How could he not be sure that I wanted him when I could barely keep myself away from him? Even with my heart hurting, I could hardly divert my eyes from his gaze. If he wished, he could make me forget how to breathe. Despite his clear feelings for me lingering for so long, knowing that I could have even a fraction of this power over him felt too good to be true.

Would being close to him still hurt if I weren't in mourning for everything I had lost? Would it still burn if there were no obstacles between us, no moral and painful restrictions preventing me from allowing myself to get lost in his embrace, his kisses, his touch? Did he know that I loved him, with a certainty as vast and bright as the sun?

Did I want to make sure he did?

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was my exhaustion, maybe it was the longing I felt to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected. Or maybe it was simply love that made me bring James’ face close to mine. His hands found my waist and lifted my body so that I sat on his lap, while my arms wrapped around his neck and my lips met his. I sighed, my tongue tracing slowly along the outline of his lower lip before venturing into his mouth, one of his hands securing the small of my back while the other got a good grip on my thigh.

I let my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer, my body pressed against his with a need that startled me; I had never allowed myself to contemplate the vastness of my feelings, of my desire for James until now. But surrendering to it felt like freedom, opening up a gap as wide as the ocean that could only be filled by him.

His lips danced against mine, his hand gripping my face as he planted small bites on my lower lip. He shifted to my neck, exploring it slowly, leaving small bites and kisses that made me tilt my head back. My eyes closed, and a low, breathy moan escaped me.

"Hush, babe," he said in a breathless half-laugh, his lips coming back to mine. I let out a low whimper, lost in the discovery of the greatness of my desire, but James just caressed my face slowly, cradling it in his hands before giving me a tender kiss on the lips. ”Tomorrow. I'll talk to her tomorrow. And I don't want to wait a moment longer after that to have you,” he kissed me again, our tongues moving slowly together before he pulled away with a smile, “Can you be a good girl until then?”

“Shut up, James,” I whispered, and he chuckled softly.

That night, I allowed myself to rest from my pain. And I allowed myself to truly appreciate, for the first time in what felt like forever, desire, longing, love.

The hope of a promise.

The memory of his lips on mine.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

#ada writes fanfiction #heartbreaker fanfic #metallica #megadeth #james hetfield #dave mustaine #cliff burton #lars ulrich #metallica fanfiction #dave mustaine x oc #dave mustaine fanfiction #nore burton (oc) #james hetfield x oc #metallica x reader #megadeth x reader #james hetfield x reader #dave mustaine x reader #metallica smut #megadeth smut #james hetfield smut #dave mustaine smut #cliff burton x reader #megadeth fanfiction #david ellefson #kirk hammett #megadeth x you #metallica x you #dave mustaine x you #james hetfield x you

[punsmaster69]

11/NOV/20XX

"you're home early."

"YES, WELL."

he looked more worn out than usual.

"WE WERE SPARRING TODAY, BUT UNDYNE ENDED THINGS EARLY."

"how come?"

"SHE SAID MY ATTACKS WERE, 'TOTALLY WEAK SAUCE' TODAY."

"WHICH IS RIDICULOUS! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALWAYS GIVES HIS ALL!!"

after that big huff, paps sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

"..BUT, I THINK IT WAS SLIGHTLY TOO MUCH 'ALL', TODAY."

"NEVERTHELESS, I'VE GOT OTHER THINGS TO DO!"

"what about your magic?"

"I'LL JUST HAVE TO USE NEXT TO NONE TODAY."

"shouldn't you relax a little? recover some strength?"

"THERE IS NOTHING TO RECOVER; I AM ALWAYS AT MAX STRENGTH!"

"DESPITE WHAT UNDYNE THINKS."

"SEE YOU LATER, SANS!!"

"hold on-"

...

for better or worse, he'll wear himself out eventually.

——

"........"

"WHY IS IT SO HOT IN HERE?!"

"feels fine to me."

"THE STOVE ISN'T ON HIGH ENOUGH FOR THIS DRAMATIC OF A CHANGE!"

"..huh."

"...."

"papyrus, can you come down here real quick?"

paps knelt down to my level.

"WHAT FOR?"

...he's burning up.

"YOUR HANDS ARE COLD."

"how do you feel right now?"

"HOT."

"other than that."

"I FEEL LIKE I MUST HAVE TAKEN MORE HITS FROM UNDYNE THAN I NOTICED, BECAUSE I'M KIND OF SORE."

"your hp's the same."

"REALLY? THEN MAYBE I..."

"SLEPT FUNNY?"

"bro."

"i think you have a fever."

"better to go lay down."

"N-NO! THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER GETS SICK."

"can the great papyrus go lay down anyway?"

"I'M COOKING, NO!"

".....WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE YOU BLOCKING THE OVEN?"

"not moving from here until you you go."

"I DON'T NEED TO LAY DOWN!!"

i didn't budge.

he started to say something, but stopped when the oven beeped.

"......"

"LET ME TAKE THE BANANA BREAD OUT, AT LEAST!"

"ok."

"if you lay down after."

"IT'S GOING TO BURN IF I CAN'T TAKE IT OUT, SANS."

"you can, but you've gotta get in bed afterwards."

"I DON'T NEED TO!!"

"...."

"FINE, I WILL, I WILL. JUST LET ME GET THIS!"

——

"THAT COUNTS! LET ME OUT."

"nope. get in bed and 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 there."

"I DON'T NEED THIS!"

stepping over me, paps tried to escape.

"...!!"

"S-SOUL MAGIC IS!! COMPLETELY UNFAIR!!!!"

"THIS ISN'T FAIR!"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS THE FIRST TIME YOU'VE USED SIGNIFICANT MAGIC IN MONTHS, AND IT'S FOR THIS!!!"

——

"THIS IS RIDICULOUS."

"if i've gotta let you take care of me, you've still gotta let me take care of you."

"I'M NOT A BABYBONES ANYMORE. I CAN MANAGE MYSELF!"

"yeah? i can manage myself too."

"THAT'S DIFFERENT!"

i flicked off the lights.

"WHY ARE YOU TURNING THOSE OFF? I'M STILL AWAKE!"

"you're practically asleep already."

"AM NOT!"

"you are."

"NOT!"

"are."

"NO!"

"yes."

"NO."

"yeah."

"NO.."

"yep."

"NO...."

"night, bro."

"..NOT..."

"......"

nope, not asleep at all.

#journal #undertale #papyrus #sans #sans and papyrus #skelebros #papyrus and sans #(toriel showed him how to make the banana bread)

[wolfgirlguts]

Got inspired and pounded this out really quick, hope it's coherent

Uhhh, willing fatal vore, multiple prey, sex, objectification, descriptions of graphic and painful digestion, have fun

Sure, maybe I should've spaced it out, made them last longer. It's so rare to find a group this big and appetizing so willing to throw their lives away on a night of fun with a stranger. But after the first two gals had settled in I couldn't just leave the chubbiest one of all out in the cold, feeling left out with her pleading eyes and stiff hen. Guess savoring will have to wait for another day.

Normally I would hold myself back with this much beef. Covet and caress every ample bovine curve as it strained its shape out of my abdomen, let my guts and the appreciative thrust of my hips mulch her most of the way to hamburger before I even thought about seconds. One cow girl is usually good to clear up the fog of hunger, at least enough to realize the kinds of uses a second can have. But the messy makeout session that ensued quickly turned into me grabbing her horns and cramming her face into my gullet. You'd think I would have the sense to halt it there at least. Bessie Number 3 has enough leather on her for the new boots I want and a jacket besides, but I guess I'm just too soft. She wants to go out by going in, and I can't bring myself to say no, even if it means burning up that beautiful hide. My drooling lips are just about level with her trembling rod, since I'm lying on the prone and twined shapes of her hornily-mooing herd, their jostling bulges turning my stomach into a sticky, sweaty slaughterhouse beneath me. I growl with feral satisfaction as one of their heads rubs between my thighs. Fuck, I can't wait to feel them break. . .

My hands sink lovingly into the uneaten gal's plush backside and I give her pretty gock a lick. In return she gives me a nod and a stammer, and I let her feel my throat. Dear gods she's cute. I want to take her to pieces slowly, but I'll have to settle for mashing her up sloppy with the others until my belly's a proper boneyard. It doesn't take her long to cum, giving me way more than a glass of milk to wash down the rest of the meat with. The thick heat of it fills me up while the girl in front of me fights to stay standing, a losing battle that ends with her quivering in a heap pressed up against my gut, deliriously rubbing it and whining as the lusty stampede happening inside picks up speed.

I pity her as she gives me a look so deep with longing. I don't blame her. I know she belongs inside me too. So as soon as she has some degree of mastery over her body back, I let her give me her legs, and I don't spend nearly the time exploring her hooves with my tongue that they deserve before I start to swallow. I can feel my guts growing more active, the bodies inside me sizzling like patties on a chemical grill. Right now the excitement is enough that they don't feel the pain, but soon the real agony will start and I don't want my third course to miss out on any of the fun.

I stretch my jaws up and around her thighs, salivating more than enough. Another minute of gulping has me straining over her gorgeous grass-fed belly. And by the time I'm wrestling her sensitive chest into my cheeks she's getting hard again in my throat, biting her lip as she gets a load of just how deep inside me she is, just how far past the point of no return.

It's easy after that. I'm half convinced the other two are pulling her down, but I honestly doubt they've got enough presence of mind to do it. And then she's inside, and I'm basically alone. The three girls fucking each other silly inside me as their bodies simmer and stew are a foregone conclusion, a trio of bloody-rare steaks that won't see the light of day again. It's a throbbing mass of meat inside me begging to be tenderized, and when it starts screaming three part harmony I add my howl to the chorus. My hips pound out a steady beat without any conscious input, up to and after my belly fur is slick and shiny with a fresh coat of wolfcum. I wish I could say I feel each one snuff out one by one, but it's all too blurry and euphoric to tell. I think I'm spent but then I belch so loud my ears ring and Number 1's collar flies out of my mouth so fast the cowbell on it gets a dent from the wall. The orgasm that follows gives me tunnel vision. For a second I think I'm going to pass out.

Churn. Slosh. I feel myself drop about a foot as something inside me crumbles under pressure.

When my head finally clears enough, I take out my phone. My hands shake a little but I manage an obligatory selfie that looks steady enough. Sending a text is easier. I find Aspen's name and attach the picture. I go back and forth on what to caption it, but finally settle on

Get your fluffy ass over here. I need dessert.

#prin howls #prin writes #vore story #fatal vore #digestion #gore #only implied but just to be safe

[reigenkills]

no Muerte x Reader? fine (thanos voice): i'll do it myself

ella enchanted + red riding hood reader, Death having a laugh

EDIT: PART TWO LMAO | PART THREE 💀 | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | 7 | 8

EDIT EDIT: AO3 CROSSPOST

EDIT EDIT EDIT: WHOEVER WANTS TO BE ON A TAGLIST FOR THIS PLS PUT IN THE REPLIES

"I'm surprised you actually tried it."

You wince, instantly holding yourself still in the pose of dropping a match into a bowl full of spell ingredients. There is a fire burning in said bowl in front of you, but your shadow stretches ahead, looming over you, the summoning circle, and the stolen grimoire.

"It wasn't supposed to work," you say.

"It wouldn't have," says the thing casting the physics-bending shadow. "But I'm curious why you did it anyway when you knew it was a dud."

You eye the grimoire with a grimace, pride twinging in sympathy for the witch you'd stolen it from. She was a big-name witch too, real infamous in her circles. Of course you knew she was bullshit the second she started talking about being able to undo your curse, but some of her work is legit; and she might have tried to turn you into a toad, but you're slightly offended on her behalf.

There's a sniff (what? who just does that?) and then the shadow tilts its head. "Something's wrong with you."

"Isn't there with everyone?"

The shadow ignores you, instead stooping down - and a shot of fear bolts down your spine at the sudden wash of cold that hangs close to your back. There's that sniff again, and then, a voice right beside you says: "Oh, you're cursed."

Great. Rule number one of being a mercenary, never let your enemies smell blood. Or fear. Or uh, your curse, but apparently this guy can sniff that out somehow.

Then again, you should have expected this when you got roped into catching fucking Death.

It'll be a quick job, they said. Twenty minutes tops after snatching the great Evil Witch's spellbook and finding the spell to trap Death. Nevermind the fact that every witch worth their broom calls themself an Evil Witch these days, of course, and you had to go through several hundred censuses to figure out which one was your mark.

And then there's the fact that you're supposed to be catching Death. Fucking hell.

"Curious," says Death. Honest-to-goodness Death. What the fuck. "If you knew it wasn't going to work, and if you're already headed my way with that curse, why go through with the spell?"

"Shouldn't you know?"

"I'm Death, not Knowledge," he says. "Trust me, you'd know the difference between me and that nerd any day."

To your mortification, you can't stop the godawful snicker that joke gets out of you. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.

Death snorts. "Tell me."

"I was ordered to trap you," you automatically say, and then clench your teeth in frustration, frowning. This damnable curse of yours.

"Oh?" Death moves, smoothly gliding from behind you to your side; the movement instantly draws your attention to him and - oh shit.

"What red eyes you have," you whisper, freezing under the brightness of his stare. With his hood pulled over his head, they're about the only thing you can see of his face, save for his snout, and the rows of large, sharp, teeth.

"The better to see you with, my dear." Death grins. "Was that your curse?"

"What was?" You swallow. "I'm just not used to meeting new people, I'm a nervous blabber."

"Tell me the truth."

"Yes, it was," you say, and then make a noise of frustration, clenching your fists.

"Look at that." If it were possible, Death's grin widens, effectively baring his teeth not even two inches away from your face in the process. "Isn't that interesting?"

"It's really not."

"Oh, but it is," he says. "How'd you get it? Parents not pay off their debts when it was due? Throw a rock at a bird and anger its patron? Or did you cut out the middleman and piss off fae?"

Spitefully, you keep your mouth shut, teeth grinding together in the effort. Death only snickers, narrowing his eyes in amusement.

"I could always just ask you to tell me," he says. "I don't have to be polite to someone who was trying to trap me."

"I knew it wouldn't work."

"You tried it anyway," he says. "And if you're gonna blame it on your curse, then let me understand exactly how this works."

Your gums are starting to hurt from how hard your jaw is clenched. Your glare up at him as pettily as you can manage, but the motherfucker doesn't look away, doesn't even blink while you glower at him.

Fucking eldritch entities.

You sigh.

"I was…cursed," you say, then, amend: "Gifted by fae when I was a baby. The gift of obedience."

"Because?"

"...cause she thought it would be a nice gift," you grumble. "Except - you know - that's nice when you're like, five or something, but not when…" You make a haphazard gesture with your hand.

Death eyes you up and down, though his gaze lingers over your shoulder and above your head, like he's seeing something only he can sense. You try your best not to shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

After a while, he says, "Pat your head."

Your hand automatically flies up to pat your head.

The piece of shit has the gall to laugh.

"Asshole!" You get to your feet, kicking the bowl of still-burning summoning ingredients at him. Who gives a shit if it's Death. The ass just laughed at you after telling you to pat your head like a chump. Sadly, he barely has to pay attention to dodge the metal bowl as it flies past him.

"You had to run around looking for that witch and nearly get turned into a worm," Death says, "Because of a gift of obedience?"

He breaks into another round of cackles at that, all seven feet or so of him doubling over in laughter. Your hands twitch for one of the guns in your holster, but no matter how irritating he is, it's probably not a good idea to shoot Death.

"Very funny," you seethe.

"It is," Death says, "It's hilarious."

"Yeah, well, let's see you laughing when someone figures out they can tell me to try and kill you or whatever," you grit out. "I can't control it, you know."

"Mm. I'd just tell you to not do that, after you tire yourself out. Way more fun that way," he says, snickering.

He turns to where the remnants of the ingredients bowl have scattered, still burning away - because the magic might have been wrong, but it's still magic, so the damn things haven't burnt to ashes yet - and inclines his head down towards it. The flames instantly snuff out.

"Stop trying to trap me," he says, and you instantly feel the command contradict your last directive, strain against it, and break it down. Your limbs loosen; you unclench your jaw. "You should probably move continents or something. Far Far Away still has mercenaries."

"You're not gonna kill me?"

"I don't kill," Death snorts. "I collect. The affairs of the living aren't my concern - until they are, at least. Some kid getting their curse used against them hardly concerns me."

The wording has you narrowing your eyes at him again. "And my…employers?"

He grins again, and you wisely back off at the sight of his teeth. "That's up to me to decide, isn't it?"

"I guess," you say. "You need addresses or anything?"

"Nah," he says. "I'm Death, kid. I'm everywhere."

This time, you snort, crouching to pick up the grimoire on the floor and tuck it under your arm. If you're gonna move continents to a place where nobody knows your curse, you're gonna need way more leverage than you usually do. "You just said you weren't Knowledge - "

You blink as you straighten, finding yourself alone in the barren, empty room. There's no looming figure, no overly bright red eyes. Just you.

You were visited by Death and he didn't kill you. Laughed at your plight, yes, but you're alive and kicking.

Probably best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or a wolf in the maw. Whatever. You should start packing and getting the hell out of here.

#puss in boots x reader #muerte x reader #puss in boots death x reader #fic #the most bizarre concept lmaoooooo #fanfiction

[weskersluvrrrrrrrrr]

PART TWO MOTHAFUCKAS LETS A GO

stars Wesker x fem reader

Smut, I was told by my good friend that this is probably non con (if you do not like do not read) I don't think these events should happen in real life I just enjoy writing requests

CW: coerced sex, threatening, not much after care, praise, degrading, use of the word slut, and Wesker being pretty mean to the reader, hair pulling, implied kidnapping ( a bit darker than my normal stuff)

----

"Whatever I want, Dearheart." A sick and sadistic smile formed on his face as he took both your hands in one and pinned you to the table. Your captain was about to do god knows what to you, and all you could do was let him. Turning your head to the side, the cold metal of the table burned against your cheek as you stared at Wesker best you could. "I planned on killing them, you know. Taking my sweet time watching them cry."

"What..? What are you talking about Wesker."

"The other members of stars, of course. I planned on killing them and having you for my self." With his free hand he grabbed at your hip.

"Just what do you think your doing We-" He roughly pulled on your arms, it almost felt as if he was trying to rip them from their sockets, but they stayed attached to you albeit they burned with pain.

"I call the shots here, sweetheart." That nickname made you sick, made you feel like a dumb child rather than an adult. "So it's best for you if you just sit pretty and listen." All you could do was nod slightly and his grip loosened a bit on your arms, still tight enough to keep you under him though. Slowly, the hand that had rested on your hip lifted up and moved down to your thighs, slowly caressing the inside of your leg.

"H-hey-!" You thrash about, trying to get his hand off of you, but his hand gripped your leg harder, stopping your squirming.

"Ah ah ah, you said you'd let me do whatever dearheart, and if you keep squirming..." He paused and leaned his head down to your ear, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm going to have to kill you, and we wouldn't want that right?"

"N-no" Your voice was shaky, terrified of the man pinning you down. You were shivering, shaking in fear as he stood up straight again and loosened his grasp.

"Good girl, now hold still for me. If I have to repeat myself I'll cut you in two." You held your breath and squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to pretend like this wasn't happening, like you weren't here right now. His hand slips around to the front of your waist, opening the front of your pants up. His hands pulling down your pants, leaving them just below your ass.

You gasp, and look behind you staring into Weskers sunglasses, unable to see the fire that burned in his eyes. His face is stoic, only the quirk of a smile can be seen. Staring into your eyes, he removes your panties and your breathing picks up. You know what's coming and you look away, squeezing your eyes close, imagining your not here. The hands on your rear are rough, calloused, and big, sending shivers down your spine from how he touched. Cool air blew across you, but that didn't help with the burning heat building up in you. It felt so wrong, horrible to get turned on from this, but you couldn't help it, imagining your captains big hands inside you.

"You're wet already, and I thought you said you didn't want this..." His pointer and middle finger slid into you, rough leather rubbing against your inner walls, making you gasp and squirm.

"J-just...get this over with quick.." He chuckled and slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you.

"Oh? Giving me commands, sweetheart? I'm the one in charge here." His other hand swats your ass and you yelp. Your behind stings but you don't even notice it, too focused on how his fingers curl inside you just right. "And I think I'll take this slow, I don't know when I'll see you again, and I want to savor this moment.

"y-your a- a real piece of shit Wesker-" Speaking is hard, even just with his fingers in you, you already about to cum. God, who knew you were so sensitive down there.

"Watch what you say, or else I'll leave your gutted corpse lying right here." Once he felt that you were prepared enough to take him, he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. "Hold still, dearheart." He peeled both of his gloves off and one hand started pulling down his fly, while the other latched onto your hip.

All you heard was the rustle of fabric before you felt something prod at your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. He slid in slowly, forcing all of his length inside you.

"god- your so fuckin tight- fuck-" He started moving almost immediately, gripping your hips and thrusting in and out of you. It felt so good, but he couldn't know that, so you bit your lip and forced your hand over your mouth. Despite that, a few gasps and whimpers could be heard, no matter your best attempts to hide them.

"fuck..." You mumbled under your breath, it just felt so good, too good even.

"i- let me hear you- thats an order, I need to fuckin hear you.." He sunk his nails into your hips, almost as if he was desperate. The pace he had set just a little while a go had become a mess, erratic thrusting was all that was left. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand off your mouth and your whines echoed throughout the room.

"fuck- Wesker..." One of Weskers hands let go of your hip and pulled your head up by your hair. It stung so bad but the pain felt so good.

"Being such a good girl for me, taking me so well. Such a good fucking slut.." Wesker laughed to himself as he kept fucking you, at this point you were so blissed out you didn't process his words, replying with a moan.

"c-cumming...captain I-im cumming-" He almost stopped when he hears the word Captain slipped from your lips. After what happened today he never thought he'd be referred that way again. Your fluids ran down your thighs and soaked his cock. It drove him wild how good it was to have you like this, he might just have to take you with him.

"Just relax for me baby, just let me finish and I'll make sure to take good care of you." You we're almost crying, it felt so good but you were so sensitive, overstimulated beyond belief. "Sh-shit..I'm gonna- fuck-." He pulled out last second, barely able to do so, and came on your ass along with the floor.

"Did so good for me, took me so well." You barely nodded your head before passing out. Tired from the mission and exhausted from this. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll take good care of you"

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #wesker hcs

[askagamedev]

What did you see in other junior devs (or yourself) experience as the most shocking when they broke in? I am bracing myself for the workload. What could I get blindsided by?

Honestly, there are two main things I've seen junior devs get shocked by and I've written about both of them before. I'll give a quick summary here and link to the previous posts.

The first big issue to watch out for is [self-crunching when you start]. I know how much a new hire will want to prove herself, especially when it's your first job and you're a super passionate, driven youth without a lot of other responsibilities and something to prove. However, self-crunching ends up setting unrealistic productivity expectations in the eyes of your boss. If you ever ease off the self-crunch, it will look like your productivity is falling for no reason. If you ever need to crunch with the team later (and you probably will), it's an express ticket to burnout city.

The second thing to watch out for is the realization that [you won't get to work on your own ideas] for a long, long time. Your job is to make other peoples' ideas real - the director, the lead, the senior dev are the ones coming up with the ideas. You won't be creating the new systems, you'll be the one to make them work. You'll spend a lot of time learning. A lot of the things you thought you knew as a gamer will be proven wrong by the realities of the industry because it is a business.

The game industry really isn't for everyone, but it can be really fulfilling if you enjoy solving interesting problems and seeing other people enjoy your work. It really isn't a place that gravitate around a handful of stars, but a collaborative team environment where everybody works together to build something really cool.

[Join us on Discord] and/or [Support us on Patreon]

Got a burning question you want answered?

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on Twitter

Long questions: Ask a Game Dev on Tumblr

Frequent Questions: The FAQ

#working in the game industry #getting a job in the game industry

[h-c-u]

A photograph

Summary: First time you realize that Hotchner has feelings for you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (past one-night-stand with Rossi mentioned)

W/C: 4.7k

Rating: PG, age gap

TWs: none

A/N: Another one for a friend who doesn't have Tumblr, but I definitely see myself writing more Hotch in the future :)

Masterlist | List of tags

- Y/N!? What are you doing here, I thought that you'll be coming in a week! - your best friend was super happy to see you earlier than planned, that's why you stood at the door to her bat cave with your phone ready to record her reaction, and it was worth it. 

- A slight change of plans! - you stopped the recording and ran to hug her. When it came to your aesthetics, you two were the complete opposite. She was full of color, while you were mostly black and white, but when it came to personalities... You were almost like a one-person split in two. She was your sister in every way except biological, but neither of you cared. You met when she just dropped out of college and you took pity on her, letting her crash on your couch. And everything else was history. 

- Oh my god, I love it! - she didn't want to let you go. - How did you get in the building, why did nobody tell me!? - you laughed. 

- Oh easy, I bribed Derek and he was the only one that knew I'll be coming early since I needed a visitor's badge. Well, he also told Rossi, so I wouldn't have to be alone tonight. - you explained and took a step back to look at her. You haven't seen each other for a good year, but it was like not even a week passed. 

- Bribe...? That man is unbribeble, I've tried! What did you bribe him with!? You better have not told him about Cabo! - the fear in her eyes was real, but you just laughed again. Oh, how much you've missed her... 

- No, no embarrassing story. Just a promise. - you smiled

- Tell me, tell me! - she started jumping even though she was in high heels. 

- I promised I wouldn't! - you laughed again and finally let go of her forearms. 

- Oh, come on! - her disappointment seemed real, even though you knew it wasn't - That's cruel! 

- You come on! Do you want me to start breaking your promises...? - she pouted and shook her head. - Then shush. And I was told you're finished for the day, so get your things and let's go! I'm starving! 

You took her car to Rossi's since she was the one who would have to go to work the next day, while yours stayed safely in the parking lot; you could come back for it tomorrow. You loved how positive Penelope was and you could talk with her for hours without getting bored because she was one of few people who were actually able to follow your train of thoughts, which skipped some stations and came back to some at random. 

When you were there, you took your camera and a wooden box from your bag; you never arrived anywhere empty-handed. It wasn't the first or even the second time you've met the team, so fortunately there was no awkward period of prodding questions. 

- Dave! - you hugged the older man and placed a soft kiss on each of his cheeks as a greeting, while he placed a hand on your waist. - I know you're more of a red wine kind of guy, but I found this lovely Armagnac in the south of France and thought of you, so I really hope you'll like it. - you passed him the box and he immediately started reading what was burned into the wood. 

- That sounds amazing, thank you so much! - he kissed your cheek, thanking you for the gift, and you finally took your heavy leather jacket off. 

- Hi everyone! - and the greeting season has begun. You did your best to have a quick conversation with everyone separately, before the food would be on the table, and you thought that you managed to handle that pretty well, even if you had time to exchange only a few questions. And when the dinner officially started, you quietly stood up, took a few steps back, and quickly took a picture of everyone having fun. 

- Oh yeah, I've meant to ask you for ages... - Derek almost jumped. - We all know what a great photographer you are, but what pushed you into it? - you sat back down and hang the camera on the chair before you answered. 

- It's a bit of a sad story, actually... - you started - As a kid, I had a best friend... We spent every living second together, and then she got sick. And died. And when her mom asked me if I had any good pictures to use in the obituary, I... didn't. I had a total of 6 pictures of her, and none of us together. - you explained and everyone suddenly got quiet, which made you uncomfortable, but you continued, determined to get to the end. - So yeah, I became obsessed with documenting literally everything in my life, and by taking more and more pictures I got quite good without even knowing. And after years of therapy and all that shabang, I just like to have a physical reminder of good times in my life, even if it's just a selfie. - you smiled and took a sip of wine that Rossi poured you just a minute ago.

- I'm sorry you had to lose someone so young... - Hotchner was the first one to break the silence and you thanked him with a slight nod. 

- Let's change the topic! Dave, did you finally get that tattoo removed? - it was a dirty move, to throw him like that under the bus, because everyone's attention instantly shifted to Rossi while you mouthed a "sorry!" in his direction, and he shook his head, pretending to disapprove, but the pretending was obvious enough that you knew he didn't mind. It was a stab in the dark the team didn't know about it because of its placement. And fortunately, Rossi kept his mouth shut, and no one even thought about asking you how exactly you knew about it, because that was a whole other conversation you weren't ready to have just yet. 

But eventually, the topic naturally changed, and the team was sharing the best places to get coffee in the city, and even though you didn't like coffee, you paid close attention, because you never knew when this sort of recommendation would be useful. 

After dinner and more than a few bottles of wine, you helped Dave with the dishes, while everyone else was slowly getting ready to go home. You, Penelope, and Hotch were the last ones to leave, and you couldn't help but notice that when Aaron was helping you with your jacket, his hands lingered just a bit longer than they should on your shoulders, but instead of questioning it, you blamed it on the wine. The one that you drank? because he wasn't drinking tonight... Fuck. You probably just imagined something you wanted to be there, so you said goodbye to both him and Rossi, quickly took a picture of the two of them talking in the hallway, and you were out. 

- I'm gonna ask you something and I need you to be honest with me. - Penelope said in a serious tone, and you immediately got scared, because she rarely used it in your company. And to add to the stress, you were coming down the stairs still a bit buzzed, so there was a quite real risk of imminent death on your mind. - Are you sleeping with Rossi? -you immediately started laughing, but she stopped and looked at you. 

- No, God no! I mean there was this one-night stand AGES ago, but that was it. I just like him as a friend. Why do you ask? - you were genuinely curious if it was just a question about a tattoo or if was there anything else. 

- Well, I know that specific Armagnac is pricey because I did some research when you gave one to me. I mean, I know it was a different brand, but I still wanted to learn more. And you seem to have some sort of secret language, and the tattoo, and he poured you wine, and moved your chair when you were getting up... It's just... you seemed to be pretty close. - once she started talking there was no stopping until she got to the end. 

- First, you know I don't give a fuck about money and that I can afford not to look at the prices, I just found something I knew he'd enjoy, and I knew that I will most likely be invited to dinner when I'll visit you next, so it was an investment because I hate being a guest who comes empty-handed. You and I also seem to have a secret language, considering how quickly we jump in between topics, and even though I love you, I'm never sleeping with you. I know about that tattoo from that one night, that's true... And the wine, the chair - he's a gentleman and I was a guest in his house. You guys are his family, he's more relaxed with you. With me, he's still mindful of his manners. - you explained every worry she brought up, and you ended exactly at the moment you got to her car. - Anything else? - you smiled at her because you noticed that something was still bugging her. 

- Why didn't you tell me about that one-night stand...? - she asked, turning the keys in the ignition. 

- Because I was embarrassed. It was the first time I visited you here… When there was something wrong with the bathroom and you were staying at Derek’s, so I opted out for a hotel...? I didn't even know you worked together then... I met him at the bar, the conversation was good, the drinks were better, and the hotel room sucked. - And 4 days later you officially introduced him to me. I was honestly surprised that none of you guys clocked how freaking embarrassed I was. - you laughed. 

- Oh, they just thought that you were nervous, I remember now... You really didn't know? 

- Nope, scout's honor. We had a quick conversation about it in the elevator, and that was it. - you finished explaining, looking out of the window... The view below was amazing, so you reached for the camera, lowered the window, and took a quick picture of a cacophony of white and red lights. After you closed the window and put away the camera, you looked at her and you could just tell that she wanted to ask something more, so you sighed. - Shoot. 

- But like was he good? - she blurted out as soon as you gave her permission, and you immediately started laughing. 

- Yes, he was very good. - you shook your head in disbelief that she actually asked you that. - Good enough for a fifth and sixth round in the morning. 

- Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! I didn't need to know THAT! 

- Bitch, you asked! - now both of you were laughing. - Besides, is it really that surprising? You know I always liked older guys. 

- Yeah, but I thought that Hotch would be more up your alley... - you were slowly getting closer to her home, and car conversation always hit differently. Almost like the late-night talks on the white plastic chairs on the patio. 

- I didn't say he wasn't. He's not interested though, so I'm not going there. - you said, getting back to looking through the window. 

- How do you know he's not interested? - she gasped before she continued. - Did he say something!?

- No, he just never showed any interest, and I'm usually pretty good at knowing when someone is interested. - you smiled, even though she couldn't see it. 

- Oh, ok then... Just so you know, and I'm not saying that he is, or that if he is, you would need my permission or anything, but if he was... I wouldn't mind. - she said, parking in the driveway, and you couldn't help but chuckle, considering how she reacted to the news about you and Dave. 

- I'll remember that. - you replied while getting out of the car.

The next day you woke up much later than you usually did, but it's not like you had anywhere to be, so you took a quick shower, and after taking a look in the fridge, you decided to eat breakfast somewhere else before you'd get your car from BAU garage. 

But when you got out of the apartment, you couldn't help but notice a beautiful park down the street, and you could definitely take some lovely pictures there. And you were right, because you encountered a group of friends who decided that it was a perfect time for a picnic with paint-by-number canvases, and they were all dressed up in beautiful dresses, so when you offered to capture some magic for them, they instantly agreed. You showed them the results and after exchanging contact information, you promised to get them the photos in a week, when you'll edit them. 

And since you didn't exactly know the city, you decided to take a shot in the dark, and when you got into the taxi, you asked the driver to take you to the best breakfast place in her opinion in the city, doesn't matter how far. And she did. It took more than 20 minutes, but it was totally worth it because she took you to this Georgian hole-in-a-wall place that was a mix of bakery and restaurant. 

You bought a bunch of stuff for the team because it's not like you'll just go there, get into your car and leave. 

And as soon as you were leaving, you recognized the cafe on the other side of the street from the conversation yesterday, and you just couldn't ignore it; it was Hotchner's favorite coffee, and you liked making people happy, so you stepped in, and requested the order he mentioned. You also requested for it to be put into your thermal bottle, and asked for a paper cup on the side, because you remembered that he was specifically talking about the blue pattern on the white background, and how it reminded him of the summer sky, and you didn't want for the coffee to get cold. 

You had to order an Uber to get to the BAU, because there were no taxis in sight, but you eventually got there. Still armed with your visitor's pass, you were able to get into the building and to the 6th floor, but before you caught anyone's attention, you quickly snatched a picture of Morgan joking about something with Reid at his desk, and next Emily laughing at whatever he said. 

- Surprise delivery! - you finally exclaimed when you put a cover back on your lens. - Hi everyone! - you walked over to them and put a paper bag full of goodies on Reid’s desk. - I'm not sure where the kitchen here is, but everything is fresh and was still warm when I was buying it.

- You're an angel! After yesterday I overslept and didn't have time for breakfast! - Em quickly started to go through all the baked goods. 

- Just remember to share. By the way - Hotch's office...? I have a small surprise for him. - you asked, and Derek pointed at the door upstairs right before he started rummaging through the bag. - Thanks! - you playfully shoved your hip against his and he just laughed. - There's more than enough for everyone, so no hoarding! - you joked and started climbing up the stairs but before you knocked, you quickly took the paper cup from the bag, filled it with a still-hot coffee, and turned on your camera, wanting to catch his reaction when he saw the cup. 

- Come in! - he answered after you knocked at the door, and as soon as you entered, he gently smiled, but that smile became huge when he noticed what you were holding in your left hand. And that's when you took a picture, immortalizing it for ages. - You didn't! - you never saw him not composed. 

- Oh but I did! It was an accident, but I thought you could use a pick-me-up... I know how hard you all work. - you passed the cup to him, and you noticed that he carefully paced his fingers around it in such a way, that they wouldn't touch yours. - There is also a breakfast from that Georgian place on the other side of the street, but that's downstairs. - you added, and he took the lid off the cup and just inhaled the scent. 

- It's my order! It's perfect... Thank you very much, Y/n. How can I repay you...? - he asked, and finally took a first sip, and his face instantly relaxed; you didn't have to be a profiler to just know, it was his guilty pleasure, and you took another quick picture, wanting to remember that. You established that boundary the first time you met the team, and everyone was more than fine with you taking pictures of them, as long as you didn't post them anywhere without consulting with them first, and you never intended to cross that line. 

- Oh, come on, it's just a coffee... - you were completely serious, but so was he. - Ok, fine... How about a picture together? I don't think I actually have one of just us. - he gently shook his head because he couldn’t believe that it was all you wanted in return.

- Ok. - he stood up. - How do you want me? - Oh, I want you in so many ways, all right... 

- No specific pose... Just be natural and stand just a bit behind me... And let's face the window, so the light will be good. - you directed while flipping the screen, so you would be able to make sure that you were both in the frame and that the cup he was holding was visible. You held the camera at the angle making sure that the shadow wouldn't land on either of you, and Hotch leaned in a bit, so the height difference between you two wasn't abysmal. 

You took a quick series of photos to choose the best one later. 

- Now we're even. - you smiled and put the cover over the lens. - It was good to see you, but I'm gonna head out... I don't want to interrupt your work.

- Thank you for the coffee, it honestly made my day... - he replied, still smiling, and warming his hands with the cup. - See you at trivia night tomorrow? 

- You know it! - you laughed and left his office. 

Later that evening, you were editing the pictures you took of a group in the park when Derek arrived with dinner. It's not like you or Penelope couldn't cook, but just... takeout was much tastier. Pen was taking a bath after a long day, so it was only natural to talk. You showed him the pictures, before and after of a few you already edited and he was impressed. 

- Emmm... Derek... If I ask for your objective opinion as a profiler and ask you not to tell anyone, would you do it? - you asked when you skipped a few pictures too far and something caught your eye. 

- Sure, cupcake... What do you want to know? - he was immediately in, not even knowing what it was about. 

- I'm serious about it, ok...? Objectivity is key. - you clarified once more, and he just sighed. 

- I promise. Now spill... - you turned the screen of your laptop in his direction. 

- Tell me what you see. Not who, but what, ok...? - you requested. The picture in question was a selfie that you took earlier that day of you and Hotchner. It was the first one in a quick series, and somehow you managed to capture something you completely missed in his office... While you were looking directly at the camera with a smile, he was looking at you with an expression you've never seen on his face before, and which you could only describe as... soft. 

- Damn. Shit. Ok. - Morgan almost choked on his beer. He was obviously torn, having to analyze Hotchner's body language and expression, but at the same time, you could tell that he already did that instinctively.

- So? - you rushed him because you didn't want Pen to see or overhear the verdict. 

- Oh, he's definitely into you. And hides it very fucking well, because none of us realized, and we pick up on the smallest shit... - he took a sip of his drink and you sighed, your heart both heavy and light at the same time. 

- And remember, not a word about it. To anyone. You promised. - you said and closed the window with said picture in it. 

- I know... Are you going to do anything about it...? - he asked, but before you managed to answer, Pen came out of the bathroom, all pampered after her bath, so you only shrugged in response, but both of you knew that was a lie. 

- Uuu! Dinner! What are we having? - Pen asked, completely missing the atmosphere in the room, but as soon as she spoke, you reigned back in your feelings and focused your whole attention on her. 

The rest of the evening was uneventful, well - besides Derek trying to cheat in Monopoly, but that was it. 

But when there was time to go to bed, and you were alone in the guest bedroom, you couldn't help but open and diligently study every pixel of the picture of you and Aaron.

You've spent the whole morning overthinking what should you do, which wasn't exactly your style, because usually you just did what you wanted, but with him... You didn't want to screw anything up by being too bold, or too timid, and you found yourself just pacing around the apartment to the point that you were able to navigate it with your eyes closed. But finally, you got to the "fuck it" moment. 

You ordered an Uber again, hoping that your pass haven't expired just yet, and the closer you were to the BAU, the more nervous you got. But screw that fear. Be afraid and do it anyway, at least that's what Carrie Fisher said, and who were you to disagree with a princess fucking Leia. 

You stood in front of the building for a good minute before you actually dared to enter it, but after you did, everything else was a blur until you were standing in Aaron's office. You weren't even sure if you said hi to the team, or if they were even there. 

- Y/N, what are...? - he looked at you with a pure surprise painted on his face.

- I'm going to show you something. And then I'm going to give you a minute to do something about it. And if you won't react, I'll leave, and we won't speak about it ever again. Ok? - you interrupted him with a much more confident tone, than you expected to come from your mouth. He still looked confused, but cautiously nodded, because whatever you were talking about - it didn't sound that scary. That was until you turned your phone in his direction, and he could see a picture of the two of you. Seemingly innocent, but the second he saw it, he knew he fucked up. 

He couldn't look away from the photo for a good moment, thoughts racing in his head faster than in any life-or-death situation he was ever in. And then it hit him... You didn't want him to explain because you already knew... You were giving him the opportunity to actually do something about it or leave it behind forever. The instant that thought entered his mind, he found himself holding your face in his hands and leaning in to kiss you, not caring in the slightest that anyone could simply walk into his office, hell - he wasn't even sure if you closed the door behind you, because the only thing that mattered right now was, well... you. 

And you were so lost in sensation, that you didn't realize that the phone slipped from your hand and landed on the carpeted floor, somewhere before your hands found their way to his neck, trying to pull him even closer than he already was. You felt the warmth radiating throughout your body from every point your bodies touched, fueling the fire that was roaring in between both of your lips. He was demanding and tender at the same time, but you quickly started fighting him for a lead in this dance, and at first, he resisted clinging to the control he still had, but as soon as you wrapped his red tie around your fist and harshly pulled on it, he yielded, and you were now in charge of the pace... And you slowed down, savoring every move, every touch, every breath... The rush already forgotten, because you were showing him that there was no reason to hurry; you weren't going anywhere, and even when this kiss will end, there will be many, many more... 

And in the end, he was the first one to back up, although he didn't take his hands from your neck. 

- I guess I wasn't as good at hiding it as I thought I was... - he finally broke the silence. 

- Oh no, you were. I was convinced for years that you weren't interested... I only realized yesterday, when I saw this picture. Out of the 11 I took; it was the only one. But I have a question... - he moved his hands from your neck first to your shoulders and then to your waist. He raised an eyebrow, which let you know that you could ask that question now. - Why didn't you just say something? - he sighed quietly and started studying your face as if the answer was written somewhere in between your freckles. 

- Well, first of all - you're much younger than me, you're living on the other side of the country, and you're Penelope's... - he hesitated for a moment - …"bestest friend in a whole wide world"...? - you couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped from your chest. - And I didn't want things to become awkward. 

- Oh, they will still become awkward, but that's normal in the beginning stages of every relationship, so there is no avoiding that. - it's not like he didn't know that, but you weren't sure what else to say, your mind still a little bit foggy.

- Does that mean you would be open to considering a relationship with me? - he asked as if that wasn't obvious. 

- No, Aaron. I just came here to throw a hissy fit, and leave... - he laughed quietly, seeing your smile. 

- I like how my name sounds on your lips... - he said much quieter, gently stroking your hips with his thumbs. 

- Then I will start saying it more... But I think now you should get back to work. - you finally took your hands from his neck, and he released your hips, taking a step back. And as soon as he did, there was a quiet crack, and when you looked down, you realized that he stepped on your phone and cracked the screen. 

- Fuck. - you never heard him wear before. - I'm sorry, I'll buy you a new one... - he was so apologetic, and you couldn't help but smile.

- It's fine, honestly... It's just a thing, and I wanted to buy a new one anyway, so don't worry. - he leaned down and assessed the damage, before passing the phone back to you. There was no way you could continue using it in the long run. 

- I insist. - well, how could you argue with that? - And let me call you a taxi, since... - he started offering, but you cut him off.

- I wanted to hang with Pen anyways, so there is no need. We're still up for a trivia night tonight, right...? - he nodded, and before you left, he grabbed your hand and pulled it closer to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back of it, without breaking eye contact with you. - And a proper date tomorrow...? - a huge smile bloomed on his face, and he confirmed with a slight nod. - Great, you can choose a place and pick me up at 6. - and with that, you were gone from his office, but the echo of your lips on his, stayed with him for the whole day. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #Criminal Minds fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #🖤