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bau-muffin · 22 days

Text

“Live Mas”

Word count: 6343

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, dbf!Hotch if you squint

Content warning: oral sex, fingering, p in v sex

Summary: you had a bad week at work, and Aaron suggests you go on a cabin trip. What could possibly happen?

Author’s Note: this is for my friend’s (@rivnxm) birthday! Happy birthday darling, and I hope you have a WONDERFUL day <3 xoxo

“Oh my god, thank you for letting me crash here,” you said, half gratefully, half apologetically, with a bottle of wine in your hand. Aaron raised an eyebrow at you with a half smile from where he was sitting in an oversized armchair, beckoning with his hand for you to set your things down.

“You’re lucky you caught me on a day where I actually got to go home at a decent hour. Jack’s at Jessica’s until Sunday night, and this house sounded a little hollow.”

You sat your bag on the floor unceremoniously beside the couch, the wine on the coffee table, and yourself on the couch, flopping a bit.

He eyed you, and you almost rolled your eyes as you felt him “profile” you.

“Rough day?” Aaron asked.

“Rough week. JD is giving me issues and I can’t stand him! He said my article was frivolous. Frivolous! Can you believe the gall?”

“Isn’t this the same guy who said your use of the word “persnickety” in an editorial was entirely too casual?”

“The one and only bastard.”

“If only he was the only bastard. It would make my job easier.”

You rolled your eyes, “you know what I meant.”

He reached for the wine bottle and pulled out a bottle opener and popped it open, a smirk on his face. “Yeah, I do.”

Of course, your friendship with Aaron Hotchner was probably a bit strange. He was in his 40s, a father, and a widower who had been through a divorce, and you were… well, quite a bit younger and not as jaded or cynical.

You were acquainted with him through your father, whose expertise was consulted for a case as a favor to Aaron, and somehow you two clicked and became better friends than he was with your father. You’d met him after your father invited him to a barbecue, and you realized you’d never met a more stoic man, nor one who could wear the hell out of a quarter zip shirt like he did. Did you form a small crush on him? Yes. Did you dare utter it aloud? Hell no. You suppressed the snot out of it.

“You know what I need? I need a vacation. Just… to relax. Maybe become one with nature, let the moss grow on me like a rock.”

Aaron got up to get wine glasses from his wet bar, and came back, sitting down in his chair as he poured the wine in the glasses. “What would your ideal vacation be?”

“Gosh… I love the mountains,” you said dreamily, your chin propped up on your knuckle, “I haven’t stayed in a cabin since… I don’t know, since I lived with my parents.”

He handed you a glass of wine. “I see.”

“You sound awfully pensive, what’s ticking in that head of yours?”

“I was thinking… maybe, we could take a vacation. Just you and me and a cabin in the mountains. A retreat, if you will. Jack’s at Jessica’s, and I have an overstock of days off.”

You took a sip of wine and leaned forward. “Where were you thinking?”

“West Virginia. I’ve rented a cabin before that was about four or five hours drive from here- easily doable for a weekend getaway. We could leave tomorrow after work, Friday, and come back Sunday evening.”

“Why would you come?”

He shrugged. “Keep an eye out on you. Plus, I need a break too.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you not believe I can take care of myself at all?”

“I don’t doubt that you can,” Aaron insisted, “I just… I don’t know, I don’t want to risk anything.”

You were aware of his overprotective tendencies, partially because of the horrors he saw at his job, and also because of what happened to his wife. Your eyes and lips softened a little at the layer of concern in his voice. “Well… I guess it’s always more fun with friends.”

The corner of his lip quirked. “You could bring some board games.”

“Are you telling me Super Special Agent Aaron Hotchner is fond of board games?”

“That is not what SSA stands for, and you know it,” he said with a laugh.

And so, that’s how you found yourself in the passenger seat of Aaron’s SUV after work the next day. He had loaded up your bags, snacks, and cooler of drinks into the trunk without much complaint, which surprised you. You were sure he would make the typical sarcastic “traveling light?” comment that most guys did, but it was nothing from him.

“I guess I’m the passenger princess,” you said with a laugh before you popped a gummy worm in your mouth from the bag between your legs.

His eyebrows raised in bewilderment as he looked over at you. “I- if you mean exactly what the term sounds like, yes, I guess you are.” Aaron looked at the road before looking back at you. “Gummy worm, please?”

“I’m surprised Penelope hasn’t taught you more internet slang,” you said as you handed him a red and green gummy worm.

“She taught me what “rizz” and… um… “slay” means. That was too much for me.” He popped the worm into his mouth. You studied the side of his face for a second before he glanced over at you. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a gummy man.”

“I love gummies. If Ronald Reagan ate jellybellies to concentrate on ruining our country, then I eat gummies to help save it. It’s not so great for my physique, though.”

“I like your physique,” you blurted.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he didn’t say anything as he turned his attention to the road, though even your view of the side of his face didn’t hide the small smirk.

“You’re smug,” you said, teasingly accusatory.

“I don’t get many compliments on my physique nowadays- give me a minute or two to stew in it.”

“It- it kind of reminds me of Atticus Finch. You know- from To Kill a Mockingbird?” You said ramblingly.

“Are you saying I’m Gregory Peck?” You didn’t have to look at him to know he had that damn smirk on his face.

“I-“ you paused for a moment before lifting the bag of gummy worms comically, inspecting the back of it. “What level of alcohol content is in this anyways?”

“Hopefully none, considering I’m driving us, and you gave me one.”

“You’re a lightweight if all it takes is a gummy worm to get you tipsy- but there is none, you are very astute, Aaron.”

By the time you guys drove up the winding lane to the cabin, you were exhausted. You planned on taking a nap as soon as you hauled your luggage in, and you had told Aaron as much about fifteen minutes before the estimated arrival time. It was nightfall anyhow.

“I’m the one who drove, and you’re exhausted,” he mused with a smile as he carefully set some luggage on the porch.

“You’re more than welcome to take a nap too, if you’d like,” you said with a soft scoff as you waited by the door for him to open the cabin, “I’m sure there’s more than enough space for you to lay your weary head.”

“I’m sure there is,” Aaron said with a small smile as he opened the door to the cabin, with the instructions that the owner had given. When you lugged the cooler and snacks in, the smell of wood met your nose.

“This makes me so nostalgic,” you said breathily, carrying your load to the kitchen.

It was a medium sized cabin, so the living room, which featured a nice fireplace, and the kitchen were all in one open space. You didn’t study it much further as you began loading your drinks and food onto the counters and into the fridge, and Aaron began pulling in suitcases and toiletry bags.

“I’ll check the layout, and you can decide which bedroom you want to stay in,” he explained.

“Be quick about it, I need to get my blanket and pillow,” you said lightheartedly.

“Yes ma’am,” he said sarcastically before venturing further.

You cleared your throat when you realized the formal address made you feel something low in your stomach, but you tried to ignore it. You continued putting things away, then you turned and Aaron was standing there, his brows creased.

You rolled your eyes as your hand landed on your chest by instinct. “God, you scared me.”

He ignored you. “We have a problem.”

“What is it? It’s not a leak, is it?”

“If only. I could fix that. No, it turns out I booked a cabin with only one bed.”

“Oh-“

“However, I can probably sleep on the couch. If it makes you feel better, we can take turns.”

“Aaron, no, take the bed. Not to make you feel old, but your back-“

“My back is fine,” he said gruffly, “I sleep on my couch at home all of the time.”

“Aaron…”

“Don’t ‘Aaron’ me,” he said with a tiny smile, “I insist. Besides, you’re tired, and it’s almost time to go to sleep for the night anyway.”

“You damn smooth lawyer fbi agent,” you muttered as you moved to carry your stuff to the adjacent bedroom, “you make a good argument.”

“I know I do. Now, go get some rest. We can start planning the itinerary tomorrow morning.”

“What makes you think I won’t just sleep in until lunch time?” you asked sassily.

“Then I suppose that’s your prerogative.”

You moved to give him a hug, setting your bags down. “We’ll see. Good night.”

“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“I hope they do,” you muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Good night.”

You thought you heard an amused hum behind you as you tote everything to the bedroom. It was cute- a queen sized bed with a nice quilt on it that had an adorable design featuring bears, a large dresser that looked hand carved, and side tables with rustic lamps that had antlers for shades.

The bathroom was a decent size, and you found that the shower looked like a dream. But when you looked out of the sliding door where there was evidently a deck… you were surprised to see a hot tub. A hot tub, but not two bedrooms, you mused.

Then you saw the mountains, lit faintly by moonlight, and you gasped, awe filling you as you studied the range, your eyes tracing every pinnacle.

But after you put on your cotton pajamas and brushed your teeth and showered, you slid under the covers, the weight of the quilt settling nicely on you, and you realized- you can hear every damn scampering and skittering creature in the woods. The crickets that once seemed to be a comforting constant now sounded more ominous, and the frogs that were croaking innocently seemed to take on an edge.

You scrolled on your phone for a while, all of the lamps turned off and your face illuminated by the screen. But your brain was not winding down, and you were not sleepy. You set your phone on the side table, and turned from the window, your face towards the door, and closed your eyes.

No bueno. Those critters and the chirping and the croaking and various skittering wouldn’t let you sleep.

It took about two hours before your resolve melted and you got up out of bed.

As quietly as you could, you padded to the kitchen- you had not made it to the fridge well before you heard Aaron’s groggy voice saying your name and then, “are you okay?”

You could barely see his head peeking over the back of the couch, pointed away from the kitchen.

“I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d get some water. Go back to sleep, I’m fine.”

“Why can’t you sleep?”

You paused, wondering if you should admit the embarrassing truth. “The noises outside.”

“Someone’s not accustomed to the great outdoors and being away from highways and interstates,” he said a tad bit teasingly.

“I’m not,” you admitted as you filled a cup with water.

“C’mere.”

You sipped the water. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try to help you go to sleep.”

You set your cup on the counter. “And your method would be…?”

“Stop asking so many questions and just c’mere,” he said, a tad bit exasperated.

“Okay dad,” you said sarcastically as you ventured towards the couch.

Aaron was half laying on the couch, his elbow propping himself up. His legs were covered by a thin blanket, but he was wearing a slightly tight green t-shirt with the Schweppes logo on it that made you bite your lip. You could clearly see an outline of his chest and the small chub of his belly even only lit by the moonlight through the window, and it was… well, he was an attractive man and you’d never felt a greater impulse to bury your head into someone’s chest before. You ignored your baser instincts.

“I’m here,” you say, almost sounding annoyed, your hands on your waist. You didn’t miss the way his eyes flitted over your pajamas.

“Sit on the couch with me. Maybe we can watch something until you fall asleep.” He sat up and patted the seat next to him.

“Were you not asleep when I came in?” You sat down beside him, and he threw part of his blanket over your lap.

“I’m a light sleeper because I’m constantly listening out for Jack. Or my phone, for the bureau.” He put his arm behind your head on the back of the couch. “You can lean into me, if you want, you know.”

Your head instinctively laid on his shoulder. “Aaron, I’m still befuddled why you would ask me to go to a cabin with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… our friendship is so unlikely anyways. You’re… frankly, middle aged. We’re in totally different areas of life. You have more… experience.” You cleared your throat nervously. “In life I mean.”

His eyebrows raised but he said nothing as he turned the TV on. Of course it was George Lopez.

“You make my life feel a little lighter,” Aaron said finally. “I love having you around and…” he studied his lap for a moment. “I would probably consider you my best friend. I’ve told you things I… I hadn’t told my team for… for a while. Maybe ever.” He looked up at you with a small smile. “You drag it out of me without saying a word.”

You stiffened a little at being called best friend, but you felt his eyes studying you keenly.

“And what do you want me to say? Call you my father figure?” You said teasingly.

“God, no,” he said almost a little too emphatically, cringing, “We’re definitely two adults. I don’t want that sort of… dynamic. Besides, I am way too young to be your dad.”

You grinned a little, but your eyes started to droop closed.

Aaron shifted so that you could lay more comfortably, but soon, despite the canned laughs from the TV, he too drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, you did not expect your pillow to feel so warm or firm. Your hand patted around, and you felt a moment of panic course through you.

You opened one eye to realize that your pillow was none other than the chest of Aaron Hotchner. Your face was buried into his chest and your cheeks flushed at the thought of it. You patted one more time to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Somewhere in the night, you guys had laid down, and your legs were tangled with his, your back against the back of the couch and Aaron facing you, kind of… pinning you.

“Having fun there?” His voice said softly, though a smile was evident in his tone.

“I’m sorry-“ you scrambled to sit up but he shushed you gently.

“Don’t worry about it, we were asleep. It’s not like you could have helped that.”

“Still-“

“I am not going to tolerate you blaming yourself for something so innocent and harmless,” Aaron said sternly, his voice deepened by the morning grogginess. It was too early in the morning for you to need to clutch your legs together. Your resolve or the lack thereof was embarrassing, really.

“Is this how you talk to your agents?” You asked teasingly.

“Yes,” he admits, “I have had to remind my agents that sometimes things don’t go as planned on missions, and it’s not always their fault. Some of them take it hard.”

You leaned your head back against his chest, and his hand moved to the small of your back.

“Do you think…” you started but then hesitated.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think it would be inappropriate if we flipped so that I’m… you know, on your chest?”

No words were spoken; you felt his strong arms move you, and you were laying on his chest.

“I take that as a no,” you murmured. His chuckle rumbled within his chest underneath you.

“We’re friends, we can take it, right?” Aaron said, almost cryptically.

You attempted to sit up, but when you realized how… intimate that felt, you laid back down. “I really don’t think you’ve been telling me the whole truth,” you said daringly. You looked up at him and you could see his arched eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“We have some sort of tension, and I need to know if you feel it too.”

“Tension?”

“Don’t play dumb, Aaron.”

He said your name, and it was followed by a second of hesitance.

“Aaron. We’re both adults here,” you said pleadingly.

He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours. You couldn’t explain what you saw in those dark eyes of his, a vulnerable yet guarded fortress that you could occasionally peer into like a dollhouse. He looked so… conflicted. Like he wanted something that was well within reach, but fear or uncertainty was holding him back.

Aaron easily could have leaned down and kissed you. He knew that.

But instead he said, “do you want coffee? I brought the coffee beans you said you liked and a grinder.”

You could have pushed further but you didn’t. “I do, yeah. I probably need to change for the day anyway.”

After you awkwardly scrambled away from him, you sat in the bedroom on the bed for a couple of minutes after undressing down to your underwear to stew on what could have happened. Why didn’t he kiss you? You could have sworn he was going to but stopped himself. Why was he forbidding himself from something he wanted, that he could have enthusiastically?

When you did finally reemerge (dressed of course), you smelled the coffee perking in the coffee pot provided by the cabin owners.

“Did you sterilize that thing?” You asked him worriedly, sending a look to where he was leaning against the counter, texting on his phone.

“I did, don’t worry,” Aaron reassured you, looking up at you from his phone with a smile, “I know how you are about sterilizing kitchen items.”

“I am not risking a brain eating amoeba even for you, Hotchner.” You sat down at the kitchen bar with a sigh.

Stealthily, you scanned his outfit- a brown and orange plaid flannel shirt, rolled up to the forearms, and khaki pants. God forbid he wears jeans even away from the office, you smiled to yourself.

“Apparently everyone at the office is making bets about why I went on leave.” Aaron slid his phone into his pocket as he began pouring coffee into a mug.

“What are the reasons given by them?”

“Morgan is saying that I sprained an ankle and didn’t want to risk mandatory leave. Rossi says I’m finally gaining my wits and letting loose for a weekend and getting ‘shitfaced.’ Garcia is saying I’ve eloped and went to Paris. Emily and JJ have decided not to bet but are keeping up with the money.” He placed the mug in front of you on the bar. “Prepared just the way you like it.”

You sipped it, holding the mug with both hands. “This is perfect.”

“As many times as I’ve picked up your order from the cafe, I ought to know it by heart.” He picked up his own mug and sipped on it, his strong hand wrapped around it as though he could crush it, and you felt something filter through you. The curvature of his hands, the strength evident in the veins and his fingers- but the way they were holding the fragile mug, carefully and cautiously picking it up and placing it down again.

The way his lips rested on the rim, his throat gulping slightly with every drink- there was something so vulnerable and intimate about watching him drink, even though you’ve seen each other drink a million other times. And yet, you began feeling a little green.

Aaron lowered his mug to look at you.

“You look like you’re a million miles away. Not to mention you’re staring.”

“Mm? No, um… I’m okay.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He was a profiler. Why bother hiding anything from him.

“I’m jealous,” you blurted.

His eyebrows raised until his forehead wrinkled. “Jealous?” he asked.

It was like a floodgate opened.

“I’m jealous of the coffee mug because you willingly put your lips on and take tender sips from it. I’m jealous because you wrap your hands around it protectively. I’m just… downright envious of the way you hold it, Aaron. Because I know you refuse yourself me.”

After you had said it, you covered your face with your hands. This cabin was way too small for such a confession.

And yet, you felt his hands, still warm from holding the coffee mug, tug your hands away from your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Aaron said softly, “you’re… right that I refuse myself.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re young. I’m so much older than you, I would be holding you back. I have a lot of baggage, for crying out loud, I don’t want to haul that into your life just for you to…” his voice trailed off. It struck you.

“You’re afraid of me leaving you.”

“I know you’re ambitious,” he admitted, “and you should be with someone equally as ambitious. I’m in the phase where I could retire from the FBI to be home with Jack. I’m in my career because it’s… it’s my passion.”

“You’re still thinking about Haley,” you said softly.

“Yes,” Aaron admitted, “I won’t lie and say that what all happened with Haley doesn’t affect how I go forward with relationships.”

“I’m not so ambitious that I can’t appreciate a good man, Aaron. That’s not to say I would quit my job or my pursuits for you, but I don’t think you’d want me to either.”

He took your hands in his. “I wouldn’t. I like you just as you are. You and your work drama, the way you’re so finicky about certain things but carefree in others- driving you to the mountains may have been the highlight of the trip because as soon as ranges came into view, your nose was stuck to the window, and I’m almost certain you’d still see your nose print on the glass. The way you adore people and the little things in life… I’ve never been able to master that, but it comes so effortlessly to you.”

The revelation hit you like a nerf bullet to the forehead out of nowhere. “You notice those things?”

“I do.”

“You know… the drive up doesn’t have to be the highlight,” you said a little teasingly.

“And what are you suggesting?” A small smile tugged at his lips.

“I’m suggesting we either get this out of our systems and forget it ever happened, or we start something that we can’t finish without one of us breaking our heart.”

“Are you sure?” Aaron said quietly.

You didn’t have to think before you pulled him closer by his unbuttoned flannel, and your lips wavered half an inch away from his. His eyes flitted down to look at your lips before gazing into your own eyes.

“I’m so sure,” you said breathlessly.

That was the only cue he needed before he closed the distance between you, his lips landing on yours softly before they sought your lips like he was scouring for water in a desert. His arms pulled you out of the bar stool and onto your feet, his hands settling on your back on and around your waist. The old man had it in him, anyone would have to admit it.

Not too old for surprises, apparently, as he gripped you and hoisted you onto the counter. You squealed a little, and you could hear him chuckling. Your hands went to his shoulders, and your legs hooked around his waist.

His hands held your face on either side and pulled you in closer. If he could inject himself into your skin, you know he would.

You playfully nipped, pulling his lip between your teeth and sucking on it, eliciting a groan from Aaron that made you grin as you continued kissing him.

Your tongues waltzed together in intricate circles, and you felt his hands ease to your bottom as they splayed out to support you.

“What do you think you’re doing,” you murmured. He grinned like a cat who got the milk.

“I’m about to take you to the bedroom, and we’re about to make love. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

“Carry on,” you said lightly, your lips against his neck as he toted you to the bedroom.

It wasn’t long before your back hit the mattress as he laid you down carefully.

“You’re stronger than I gave you credit for,” you quipped with a smirk as you looked up at him. Aaron chuckled as he tugged off his flannel and threw it to the side.

“I have to be at least a little fit to be in the FBI. Besides, I’m not that old. Now, Rossi…”

“You are not about to mention Rossi before an intimate moment,” you interjected, half incredulous and half amused.

“Sorry, sorry. But point being, I’m not exactly ancient, and my muscles haven’t completely disintegrated.” His T-shirt was soon discarded, and flung it to who knows where.

Your eyes roved over his muscles, and the sight of them made you want to salivate. He wasn’t what most would consider “ripped,” but his muscles were defined while also having a little bit of a tummy. You wouldn’t change a thing about him.

“They haven’t disintegrated,” you agreed with a small smile.

Aaron leaned down over you. “Do you mind if I relieve you of your clothes?” He asked teasingly.

“Be my guest,” you murmured lazily.

He took his time, pulling your sweatpants down and disposed of it, tugging off your baby tee shirt next. You could see him visibly gulp as he studied your bra and panties.

“Now, before we go forward…” his finger was hooked on the waistband of your panties, playing with it, “are you sure you want this? Absolutely sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure, Aaron, I swear.”

“At any time, if you want to stop, please tell me,” he said earnestly, “it’s absolutely necessary for you to know that we can stop if you don’t want to go any further. I don’t care how far into it we’ve gone, if it’s any less than enthusiastic then we timeout.”

“You’re precious, you know that?”

Aaron almost looked horrified. “You better tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve heard this from a partner.”

You nibbled on your lip. “You’re just very thorough about it. Usually a simple “uh huh” suffices.”

“Sweetheart, like I said, I want nothing less than enthusiastic consensual sex. It’s just important to me.”

“Then you’ve got it,” you smiled up at him.

His hand fished under your back to unhook your bra, and when he pulled it away from your chest, you swore he was in awe like some people are of a sunset.

“Fuck… you’re beautiful, baby,” he said breathlessly.

You felt yourself flush and it traveled well into your chest area, and he chuckled, amused, as he kissed the nipple of your left breast, feeling the heat against his lips.

“You’re adorable when you blush like that,” Aaron said warmly.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and freed you of them. The cold air hit you and you squirmed, but he surged into action, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. The noises he made, almost sounds of desperation, turned you on almost as much as his mouth on your breast.

His hand began kneading your other breast, and you breathed heavily.

“Fuck,” you muttered, a shot of lightning down your back, “you’re so good at this.”

Aaron moved away from your nipple and smirked at you. “Oh, do you mean that I’m… experienced?”

“Shut up and suck a tit,” you groaned, your hand going to your face in embarrassment as he chuckled.

“Did you really think I missed that earlier?”

“Not really, I was just hoping.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

Your hand went to your clit, and you began rubbing it in soft circles with your index and middle fingers, and Aaron resumed sucking your breast, transitioning to the other one. Of course you’ve masturbated before, but the combined sensation of him on your nipples and your own fingers was sending you over the edge as you lifted your hips to ride them, moaning in his ear.

When you felt that sweet release, your head tilted back, and you relaxed. Honestly, you could have slept, but Aaron clearly had different ideas.

“My turn, pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?” You asked in surprise.

“Listen, I was trying something,” he said a little defensively, “but the point being that I want to make you feel good. You’re already so wet.”

He took your hand, pulling it away from you, and he sucked the cum off your fingers, his larger hand engulfing around your hand. He finally pulled your fingers out with a loud “pop.”

“Sweet- just like you, actually,” Aaron said smugly.

“And I’m sure you’ve got a sweet tooth in your head somewhere,” you replied as you watched his head approach between your thighs.

If only you could tell the version of you that had seen Aaron at the barbeque and thought he was handsome “for a man his age” that eventually his black hair would be seen bobbing between your legs with his tongue delving into your pussy. That version of him that had been wearing his brown quarter zip, looking down at you while your dad introduced you two. Who would have thought?

And fuck, that man was talented with his tongue. Was tying cherry stems with your tongue mandatory in the FBI? If it wasn’t, it should be. But otherwise- that G-Man knew his way around the G-Spot.

He made your insides feel like they had been melted down, sitting low in your stomach as the coil tightened. If this was just his tongue…

Aaron lapped at your depths, making those same desperate noises he had been making earlier. You moaned, your hands searching for something to grasp, and they found his shoulders. Your hold was so strong, it left red marks behind on his pale skin.

Your own guttural noises, some you hadn’t been sure you ever made before, melded with the sound of the wet noise of him eating you out, and you were suddenly so glad that you were in a cabin on a winding road.

“Aaron,” you said breathlessly, your chest heaving beautifully, “I’m ready, I think I’m ready for… for you.”

He lifted his head up at you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, although… um… I didn’t bring lube.”

“Mhm… What about protection?”

“I’m on the pill.”

“Well… to put your mind at ease, I’m clean, I just got tested a few months ago as part of a physical, and it was after I broke up with Beth. I haven’t… had sex since we broke up.”

“I’m clean too.”

Aaron kissed the inside of your thigh. “Good.”

“Is it… do you think I could…”

He kissed from your belly button up to between your breasts. “Say it with your words, darling.”

“Can I ride you? Please?”

“Far be it from me to withhold pleasure from a princess,” he said smugly. You flushed.

“I’m not a princess,” you protested weakly, not even sounding convinced of your own statement.

“You absolutely are. You’re my princess, at least.”

“Then do the princess a favor and remove your bottoms,” you said coyly.

With a laugh, he stood up from the bed and began unbuckling his belt, and slipped off his pants. You hadn’t taken him for a boxer guy, but you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised. The outline of his dick was visible through his boxers, obviously hard, but when he slipped them off, your mouth gaped a small bit.

You saw the size of his shoes and his nose, you knew what the chances were of him being well endowed. But you didn’t ever really think you’d get to see for yourself. He didn’t look like he was too big, but he certainly wasn’t too small- not terribly long, but certainly girthy.

Absent-mindedly he stroked it, smearing the precum on the head. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Aaron, if you put this off one second longer-“

“Patience,” he stifled a laugh as he laid down on the bed beside her, his hands patting his thighs in a beckoning motion.

You moved to straddle his thighs, and carefully, you lined his dick up with your entrance, and sunk yourself onto it, inch by inch, taking deep breaths as he stretched you. When you fully sheathed him, he groaned as he held your hips, his hands splayed to support you, and your hands on his chest with small soft splatters of hair under your palms.

“Baby, you take me so well,” Aaron breathed. You clenched around him and he groaned again, his head tilted back.

Every time you moved your hips, every time he felt your ass bounce even slightly, he felt he had to fight from finishing right then and there. He truly wasn’t as young as he was, but… you had exceeded his expectations.

“Oh my god,” he moaned, his hold on your hips tightening as you rutted against him.

Your face held sheer determination, but Aaron could see when you were hitting a sweet spot by the look on your face- your eyes would glaze over slightly, and your lips would fall agape. He wished he could capture your likeness and hang it up beside the Mona Lisa- it was art, a wonder of the world.

“Baby, make some noises for me,” he urged, “I need to hear you.”

Your breasts heaved, and you whimpered as you moved up and down on his dick. His hips bucked, and you squeaked at the sudden shift.

“I’m almost there,” Aaron warned you apologetically.

“That’s okay,” you said in between panting.

True to his word, he painted your walls with his cum, and you felt like you were so soaked.

At one point, you stopped bouncing and thrusting, and panted, looking down at him and him looking up at you for what seemed an eternity, his dick still inside of you.

You slipped off of him, and rolled over to lay beside him. He pulled you against his chest, spooning you from behind.

“We really need to clean up,” he murmured against your neck, “but… I could lay here with you for so long, darling. You feel so right in my arms.”

“Ditto,” you said lazily.

Despite the urge to not get up, you both cleaned up and did the usual post sex hygienic stuff. You guys dressed again, and you sat in his lap on the couch, his arm circled around your waist.

“Mm… pretty good for an old man, wasn’t it?” Aaron teased you.

“Shut up, cradle robber,” you muttered, though a wide grin was on your face.

He pinched your thigh as he chuckled.

You both fell silent, the only sound coming from the AC unit whirring on. But there was a tension of a different kind between you two now, a silent undertone of questions.

“Aaron…”

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said slowly.

“If we could DoorDash Taco Bell?”

Aaron’s face visibly fell and you chuckled as you kissed his cheek. “It is getting close to lunch, but I’m joking. What do you think I’m thinking, hm?”

“The… the ‘what are we’ question.”

“Maybe I was thinking of asking if you would be my sugar daddy,” you said with a straight face. He rolled his eyes, clearly caught on to your sense of humor now.

“It…” he paused. “I know there’s a large age gap between us. But you are… I can’t imagine not being intrigued by your mind. You’re intelligent, and beautiful, and…” Aaron’s eye somehow meandered to your lips, “one of the sweetest women I know. And I would be honored if you would consider being my girlfriend.”

“There’s no consideration needed. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“And my job… my job doesn’t bother you?”

“Not at all. Obviously this is a relationship we would have to take one step at the time,” you reminded him, “but I understand your job takes you away sometimes. I understand that your situation is unconventional in a way.”

Aaron kissed your forehead. “Did I ever tell you you are so sweet? When you’re not being a snark, that is.”

You blushed, remembering him calling you sweet earlier, after tasting you. “Perhaps once or twice?”

“And Taco Bell?”

“Live Mas, baby.”

“I don’t remember the terminator ever saying that.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that DoorDash would probably take forty minutes to an hour to deliver to you- you had checked this morning. But… What could you guys possibly do to pass the time?

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #dbf!hotch

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byoldervine · 4 months

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Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

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hellenhighwater · 2 months

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do you think you would ever sell photo prints of the minotaur project? because i love it with my whole heart

I hadn't planned to, but I will be taking portfolio shots of it so that would be doable if people are interested. It's also occurred to me that we have a 3D scanner and between my brother and I, we have five 3D printers.

I will see about making 3d scans of the figures and doing resin prints. It would take some work and time, so they wouldn't be super cheap, but definitely waaay less than the ceramic. And more shippable!

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 months

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junker ~ beck oliver;victorious

word count: 2011

request?: no

description: after her car breaks down in front of the dreamy boy’s house, he helps her to fix it

pairing: beck oliver x female!reader

warnings: swearing, one mention of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

“No,” you said to yourself as your car began to slow. “No, no, no!”

You hit your steering wheel in frustration as the car came to a stop in the middle of the road.

This wasn’t the first time you had encountered issues with your shitty excuse for a car. It was definitely because the car was older than your parents. It was a miracle it even started in the first place, which, to be fair, it didn’t most of the time. You had no idea what your parents were thinking in buying you this hunk of junk to be your first car. They didn’t have to buy you a brand new sports car or anything, but they could’ve gotten you something from this decade at least.

You got out o the car to inspect what had happened. You opened the hood of the car and inspected inside. You couldn’t tell if anything was off because it all just looked the same to you. There was probably something, but you weren't exactly knowledgeable on cars.

You exclaimed in frustration and kicked the wheel, followed by a string of expletives as pain exploded from your toes.

“Car troubles?”

You turned to see a boy around your age stood at the end of a driveway.

“It just stopped,” you said. “I have no idea what’s wrong with it.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you realized how screwed you were. You were a few blocks away from home, so walking wasn’t necessarily off the table, but it would take you a while to get home. Not to mention you had no idea how you’d get the car back to your place, or off the road at all.

“Here, bring it into my driveway,” the boy said. “I’ll take a look at it.”

“How are we gonna get it into your driveway? It’s like...dead dead.”

He approached the car, taking a quick glance at the still open hood before reaching to close it. “Put it in neutral. I’ll push, you can steer.”

You weren’t sure if that sounded like a good idea - one person pushing a car on their own didn’t seem super doable - but you had no other choices. So, you got back into your car, waiting for him to get in place, then shifted the car into neutral. You started turning the wheel, shifting the car towards the driveway. It took a while, but eventually the two of you had managed to get the car into his driveway. You put it back in park as he came around to pop the hood again.

“I’m Beck, by the way,” he said as you got out of your car.

“(Y/N),” you responded. “Thanks for the help. I thought I was screwed.”

“Why are you driving a junker like this? It must be like, a century old.”

“My parents got it for me when I got my license. Something about wanting to get an older car as my first one until I learn responsibility, I guess?”

“So they gave you a rolling death trap?”

You scoffed. “Yeah, basically. I bet they’ll regret that now.”

Beck leaned in to get a better look at something. “When did they buy it?”

You shrugged. “A few weeks ago, I think.”

“Well, they’ll definitely regret however much money they wasted on this thing. It’s completely dead.”

Your eyes widened. “What?!”

Beck stood back up. “There’s not a single thing that works in this thing now. Engine is toast, battery zapped, starting motor gone. It’s a wonder this thing ever worked in the first place.”

You let out a long groan. As if your luck couldn’t get any worse. What were you supposed to do now without a car? You couldn’t go back to relying on your parents to drive you everywhere, and you certainly were not about to start taking the bus to school again.

“Do you have a phone?” Beck asked.

“It’s dead,” you said. “I was on my way home anyways, I thought I’d be fine.”

“Listen, mine is in my RV. You can use it to call your parents if you want.”

You eyed the silver RV in the yard. “You live in there? When there’s...a house?”

He chuckled. “I prefer to be on my own. The RV was the only compromise my parents would come to. If you’d rather not come in, I understand. I can bring my phone out instead if it would make you more comfortable.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s okay. It’s starting to get dark, so it’s probably best if I wait inside instead of out here while it gets cold.”

Beck nodded for you to follow him into his trailer. It was a decent size, big enough for one person living there. It was also evident that a teenage boy lived there given the mess. Beck must’ve noticed, too, because he quickly started picking up dirty clothes and laundry from the floor, mumbling something about ignoring the mess. You quietly giggled to yourself.

Beck passed you his phone. You sat down on his couch and dialed your mom’s number first. It rang for a long time before an automated message told you she was away from the phone. You hung up and tried your dad’s number, only to have the same outcome. You rolled your eyes and hung up, handing the phone back to Beck.

“They must be busy,” you said. “God, this sucks. What am I going to do?”

Beck sat down next to you. He was close enough to you that you could feel his shoulder brushing against yours. You were suddenly very aware of your situation: alone in a trailer with a boy who was incredibly cute. A broke down car, no way to get home until your parents answered your calls. You shuffled awkwardly in your seat, looking down at your lap when looking into Beck’s eyes became too much.

“I could drive you home,” he offered. “Then, when your parents are home, you can tell them what happened and where the car is. Then they can decide if they want to come get it, or they can leave it here and I can salvage whatever parts I can from it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think there’s anything salvageable from that car?”

“Well...the tires.”

You both laughed. You knew you should be getting home, but part of you also didn’t want to leave yet. Sure, you would still see Beck again whenever your parents decided to come get the car - if they decided to come get the car - but after that you may never see him again. He wasn’t familiar to you, and you were sure you’d remember someone like Beck at your school, so that meant he went to a different school. The likeliness of you two ever crossing paths again were incredibly slim.

But you also couldn’t just invite yourself into his place to stay for a while. You were still a stranger to him, and him to you technically. And you probably should get home so you could charge your phone, just so your parents didn’t start freaking out if they tried to call you and couldn’t get through.

So, you took Beck’s offer and followed him to his car. It was definitely a lot nicer than your old piece of junk. You were almost embarrassed that he had to see what you were driving before. The one silver lining to this whole situation was that your parents might actually buy you a good car after all of this.

You knew it was going to be a short ride to your house, so you had to make the most of it. You looked over at Beck and asked, “So, what school do you go to?”

“Hollywood Arts,” he responded.

“Oh! So that’s why I haven’t seen you around. You’re too busy becoming a big star.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. Trying to, at least. I’m not a singer like most of the people who attend that school. I’m trying to become an actor after I graduate.”

“Hey, the world needs actors. That doesn’t sound like an impossible dream to achieve.”

He shrugged. You felt like the conversation was drifting away, and you desperately wanted it to keep going.

“I do appreciate what you did for me,” you said. “Most people in LA probably would’ve driven right past me and wished me luck.”

“I couldn’t let you just stay there stranded right in front of my place,” he said. “What kind of a guy would I be if I didn’t offer the pretty girl some help?”

Your face immediately burned at his compliment. You quickly looked away so he wouldn’t see how flustered you were.

“Still, I appreciate it,” you said. “And the ride home. I probably could’ve walked, come to think of it.”

“No way. I wasn’t going to let you walk when I have a perfectly good car that could’ve driven you home.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

He chuckled. You noticed the car slowing to a stop, and when you looked up you saw that you were in front of your house. You almost deflated with disappointment. Your time with Beck was finally, and unfortunately, coming to an end. There was no way you’d be able to see him again, you were sure of that. It was already pretty clear the both of you wouldn’t be running into each other at schooling events, unless you managed to make it out to a performance at Hollywood Arts that Beck just so happened to be starring in.

“This is me,” you said, trying to keep the sadness from your voice.

“So it is,” Beck said with a nod.

You looked down at your lap, trying to stall as much as possible. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how I can repay you for all of this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What if I wanted to? I mean, surely there’s something else I could do or give you as a way of saying thanks. Something more than that lump of junk that’s still sat in your driveway.”

He made a face. “No, that’s a terrible thank you gift actually.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying I want to give you an actual thank you gift.”

He thought for a moment and you waited patiently for his answer. Finally, he looked back at you and said, “There is something you could give me.”

“What is it?”

“Your number.”

He was holding his phone out to you. You looked from his phone up to his face. You were almost sure this wasn’t real, that you were hallucinating that this was happening. But the longer it took for you to take Beck’s phone and put your number in it, the more his face was starting to show worry. As if you were about to turn him down.

“Yes!” you finally blurted. “I mean...yeah. Yeah, I can...I can do that.”

He seemed amused by your flusteredness. You quickly took his phone and typed in your name and number before handing it back to him.

“You better get your phone charged,” he said. “Otherwise, how am I supposed to try and plan a date with you?”

Oh, he smooth.

You wanted to say something back that was equally as smooth, but you were at a loss for words. Instead, you just nodded your head for a long time, like a crazy person, before finally saying goodbye for real and getting out of his car. You could feel him watching you as you walked up to your front door and let yourself in. He didn’t leave until the door closed behind you, and even then he waited for you to lock it and turn on the light over the door.

Once you were alone, you leaned back against the door and you couldn’t stop the wide smile that broke out across your face.

Okay, at least there were two silver linings to that stupid thing breaking down.

#beck oliver #beck oliver imagine #beck oliver x reader #avan jogia #avan jogia imagine #avan jogia x reader #victorious #victorious imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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theminecraftbee · 2 months

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so, first, accountability statement: I plan on trying to finish the “zedaph steals a baby” fic by the end of the month and god is that one-line summary no longer accurate but we’re sticking to it, said here publicly so now I have to do it. obviously I also have recursive exchange and the writing I have for hotguy comics zine, but I am not SUPER worried about either of those time/inspiration-wise at the moment and also for Reasons I know it won’t be long until I have more free writing time after that, SO.

various items that are on my potential writing docket, I am curious which of these appeal most:

I dust off the supervillain support group au. two ways this could go: I chip away at the second arc of my original outline and acknowledge this will be like a 300k fic I’m not ready to feel “done” with or “ready to post” with for ages, or I re-work it into something a little more doable and less ambitious keeping the same premise (ren runs a support group for supervillains, doc pov as he starts to heal and redeem himself). this MAY honestly be a target for “if I don’t hate the first 50k on re-reading it and I can actually make my brain write the second arc, do a slower release schedule and then start releasing chapters before I’m done writing”? but this ALSO runs the risk of “I stopped writing it, which is often a sign I was having trouble writing it”.

pearl monster au, which has been cooking in my head for a long while. the basic premise is “one day, pearl, with no memory of how or why this happened, wakes up in a facility as a monster and must try to figure out how she got there, escape, and find her way home, even knowing she may be irrevocably changed”. now with bonus season 10 fish flavor to add to this creature design I’ve been iterating on in my head for forever! this one is ALSO an experiment for me in “can I write a fic where I can’t write dialogue for basically the entire first act”, which would be interesting to see from me, you know?

the related “bigb folklore au”, where after secret life bigb is woken up by Cat and Dog by the tracks of the King Snake, which bigb can recognize as the railroad track, and decides to journey down the railroad to see if he can figure out what the fuck is going on. I need to do video review of life series bigb for this one. this is my excuse to get Weird and Metaphorical and also assign everyone to various animals for no reason, along with using some very specific aesthetic I have wanted to use for some worldbuilding but hadn’t gotten around to yet in any of my stuff. man walks through the desert with animal, confronts train that might be the watchers, might be death, and might just be a train. also, realizes that “confront” is the operative word there and has to deal with that. you know how it is.

““office au””, in air quotes because it’s not REALLY what anyone going to an office au is looking for so much as an excuse to write weird horror. iskall, normal-ish software developer man in a boring office job who does game jams in his free time, goes to work one day to work in his boring downtown office on a payment system for a client. and then things, uh, Take A Turn. this would be a LITTLE me going “what if I wrote an au with a guy who works in tech but like, the boring side of tech I’m in. like, banks and consulting and manufacturing and shit. where you sit in meetings all day and tweak java 8 code even though that language is ten years out of date. but THEN. something exciting happens in the worst way possible.” I’m doing to iskall what I did to mumbo stuffed bird is what I’m saying. it’d be fun.

DO ANY OF THESE PARTICULARLY INTEREST ANYONE. your input will be valued. like 50% chance i get hit with a strong bolt of inspiration then IGNORE that input but it’ll be valued all the same,

#note that me telling you about these ideas is ALSO accountability #on account of both ‘anyone can make whatever based on my things forever’ meaning one of you could make one now #and on account of people will start asking me about them on rare occasion now lol

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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 8 months

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A How-To Guide to Ask Your Girlfriend to Marry You: Advice from Carey Fangbattle

The first step to this is to get a girlfriend. This may sound daunting, but it is doable! You might look back on your past attempts in this arena and cringe; it’s easy enough to say do not cringe, kill the thing that cringes. It’s another story when confronting yourself with the veritable trauma-trove of stinkers you shackled yourself with in the past. Breathe. Ask the cool girl at work to come spar with you. At best, it’s the perfect kindling for some nice sexual tension. At worst, you’re still sparring (and when you’re good at being hard to hit, it’s nice to have a challenge).

Taking it slow is cool! You can keep sparring and hitting the gym and become increasingly obvious that you want to maybe go for coffee sometime. And then, while out for coffee, if you suddenly remember you don't drink coffee, DO NOT PANIC. Tea is cool. You ever tried a Faerun Fog? It's like a latte but with tea. It's fine.

You can also try inviting her back to your place to watch a movie. Be sure to place the bowl of popcorn in such a way that would make accidental hand brushes inevitable.

Keep dropping hints that you're gay. Maybe she didn't notice.

Repeat substeps 1-3.

Get assigned to go on a work trip with her now that the flirtation has really ensued. Find the shittiest, draftiest tavern you can (there's not a lot of money in the job). Now, you might be asking: how many beds were there? And the answer is two, but don't despair! Because if you're cold-blooded, eventually she's going to get tired of your teeth chattering and will invite you to share her bed anyway!

Wake up in her arms. Super platonic like.

Oh, that actually worked? You now have a girlfriend? Great job! Never doubted you for a moment!

Now, you can go on some more dates! Have you tried the new wine and pottery place? It seems pretty cool.

Avoid your coworker at said wine and pottery place

Let her know that the whole being a reptile thing does make certain things different but! it's cool and fine and doesn’t take very much getting used to.

She's very enthusiastic and a quick learner. Lucky you.

This next step is also vital, sorry. You have to befriend this absolute himbo of a man. Neither of you consciously make an effort, you're just drawn together.

Hmm, politely turn him down after he hits on you.

Shit, that's not at all what was happening, cool cool cool.

He's cool about it though. And he has skills! And he wants to learn your skills!!

Have a heart to heart conversation with your girlfriend. This will happen organically after a long day at work. You're both going to be exhausted in every sense of the word. After all, you just had to attend the funeral of a friend.

She'll tell you she had wanted to use a powerful magic item while on a mission a while back.

Recall that the terms of your employment require that you apprehend or kill members of your organization tempted to do just that.

Be so brave and not cry about what this could mean for you both one day.

…cry a little

Decide you want to marry this woman.

Drop the hint to your best friend that you want to marry this woman.

Your best friend will carve a beautiful ring for your (hopefully) future fiancé.

Keep the ring in your pocket.

Try to figure out when to pop the question.

Watch the color fade from the world.

Lose your best friend.

Mourn him.

Discover your best friend was an alien from another plane of existence.

Discover that he didn't actually die.

Asshole, who keeps that kind of thing from a best friend!

Nearly lose the love of your life in the fray of battle.

Lose your shit.

Survive the apocalypse.

Mourn your friends.

And finally, when the dust has settled and you're finally back together in your bed, wince when you realize the ring box is digging into your hip.

Shift your weight and be weird for a minute

She's going to laugh a little. This is good. She loves you, after all.

Forget every single romantic notion you've ever come up with and tell her instead that you'd like to spend every near-apocalypse with her for as long as you both shall live.

She'll say yes, yes, ten thousand times yes.

She'll cry.

You'll cry.

And now you're engaged!

Start planning the wedding.

…Good luck

#reese writes #taz balance #taz #carey fangbattle #killian #team sweet flips #taz sapphic week #this is free choice i guess lskdfjlsdfkj #tumblr kinda killed the formatting but it's still cute i prommy

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annamarabella-grumble · 11 months

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quick and dirty game review: KILLER FREQUENCY

it's really good!! why?

it's all your favourite 80s/onwards slasher flicks rolled into one

the premise is ropey as hell but it's self-aware enough to know that and make it FUN

the references are gonna be really obvious to horror connoisseurs but tbh for me they were subtle enough that they weren't overpowering the experience; it's not just fanservice held together by gaffer tape and string

there's one (1) jumpscare right at the beginning, so be aware of that, but it didn't send me running for the hills and while i haven't finished the game yet, it's fair to say the rest of the game does not rely on cheap thrills and scares

that said, the fact that there's a crouch mechanic deeply worries me

but still: without giving too much away, you experience the game by manning the radio station and taking calls from people being pursued by a serial killer. there's no narration or visuals, the tension relies entirely on voice acting and sound design -- and i think they did a spectacular job with that

there were so many moments where i (and chat, i was streaming it) was on the edge of my seat

the puzzles are absolutely doable but still really satisfying when you work them out; and there's timers only on some dialogue choices, so you have enough time to work things out in steps -- also makes it easier/more fun to let chat help hehe

when you do fail, you don't feel railroaded or tricked, which is important, though once or twice a lack of information can be a little frustrating because you're just gonna have to go with your gut

the characters have really interesting backstories, i can't wait to find out more 👀

according to the devs, the dialogue and backstories were all written collaboratively across the team, and the game somewhat responds to how well you do in keeping people alive

there's also clues throughout the story so you can try and put it together as you go -- delighted to find out what's the biggest red herring

devs say all players will get a satisfying resolution re: the killer's identity, but players who do well get a more complete picture -- raising the incentive for multiple playthroughs

there's moments of instant karma that are just *chef's kiss*

the environmental storytelling at the radio station ohmygod

is something lgbt happening to Peggy 👀👀

the dialogue choices match up with the tone of what your character actually says, so it's easy to mould his personality a little bit (and the bits where they get creative with punctuation to help convey that tone are really funny)

i'm about halfway through and so far nothing seems overplayed; instead the game just fully commits to the bit without being obnoxious

mechanics are simple: play records, play ad tapes, take calls, and occasionally run through the station for clues

sadly, you can't photocopy your butt

BUT you can shoot hoops from your desk (with paper balls) and the game tracks how many you got

if you're a horror movie or game fan, if this sounds like you'd enjoy it, i can only recommend it! i'm not super good with horror or survival games, but i had an absolute blast with this. here's a couple of screenshots so you can see the aesthetic they're working with:

it's got that cell-shaded telltale look -- easy on the eyes, colourful. and the carpets. my god

#killer frequency #game review #video games

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sachikatsutano · 1 year

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Hi, I’m a housekeeper. I’ve seen plenty of nicely left rooms, and some utter messes that made me almost cry. For the most part, people are super well behaved and I thank you for that.

However, this job is really taxing. I enjoy it, but a lot of housekeepers are usually quite young or they are older, which can be a lot of pressure on them for health and mental reasons. I’ve had to start using braces on occasion.

It’s a difficult job no matter where you go- and one rule I live by is don’t do what I wouldn’t like to clean up. So here are some things you could try to do, and make a hard job a little easier. Please consider re-blogging this so that others can try to help out too!

STRIP LINEN It saves water, but also it saves time for us too if you strip the linen off anything you’ve touched and leave the stuff you haven’t alone. Towels can be reused, but I would leave a note for the housekeeper to alert them.

ROOM CLEANING Most hotels can offer room service, however, in my hotel this can be added on to 10 rooms already. If you don’t need it, please make it known at the front desk or leave a ‘do not disturb’ sign. If you really need it, make sure you move your stuff off what needs cleaning as we cannot touch it.

TIPS Optional, but after cleaning a room with four kids and yogurt in the tea and coffee bowl, it is nice to see a little tip. I personally will take sealed consumable items like soap or once, a whole box of tea. It’s not much, but it has knocked our toiletries cost way down.

BIG BINS If your bins are full, and you know you’re going to have more rubbish, ask for a large bin bag. We have those. You don’t have to break the rubbish bag because you needed to stuff it in.

CUPS, MUGS AND CUTLERY If you have taken food up to your room, if you have a drink from the bar or glass bottles, if you have dirty mugs- consider who has to take those back. If you have time take your things back to where they came from and try to reuse the mugs and cups.

AND FINALLY, KNOW THE CHECKOUT TIME In our hotel, final checkout time is 12. Please go to the front desk even if you have a card box outside your room, and try to be packed and leave as early as you can. I’ve had days where I have 6 rooms, but no one leaves until 12 and I end up working overtime to finish. Check in time is 3 for me, and having guests want rooms while you’re rushing to catch up can make me incredibly stressed.

These aren’t all going to be doable, or present, but please, please PLEASE consider doing one or more of these for us. Any housekeeper will tell you a clean room can make the last bad room seem far away.

Thank you for your consideration and kindness!

#housekeeping #housekeeper #hotels #hotel service

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crepes-suzette-373 · 3 months

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Lineage Factor and Emotions

This might be super obvious to some people, I'm just writing this down mostly to straighten out my thoughts because it's all over the place.

Something I've been wondering for a while is just how exactly did Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji's "empathy" get removed, and whether or not it's possible to get it back.

This is also important to figure out whether Sanji's worry about him turning "evil" if his modifications fully awakened is warranted or not.

I had already previously explained that the brothers do still have emotions, and only very selective ones are taken out. I imagine if you take out all their emotions, they would've turned into something like the Pacifistas. No expression, no individuality, no personality. Just robot-like behaviour. This is very interesting, because just how exactly do you choose to only take out selective emotions?

Currently there's not enough info to tell, but my working hypothesis is that the emotions wasn't "removed". What happened is that whatever was modified in their lineage factor also includes modification that suppresses certain emotions (fear, empathy/sympathy, who knows what else).

"Emotions" is somehow part of the "data" included in Lineage Factor.

While for the most part Lineage Factor is like DNA in our real world, it also apparently includes "emotions" in One Piece. It's to the point that the Hancock seraphim is still in love with Luffy when the lineage factor is copied into the clones.

It's also implied in the flashbacks showing Sora trying to stop the modifications. Sora was concerned about their "hearts" (emotions/feelings), but the medicine she took was something that tampers with the lineage factor. As a result, not only is Sanji's emotions fully intact, but he doesn't have "powers".

Except that whatever Sora drank didn't actually do anything to the lineage factor. As it turns out, all it did was suppressing the modifications from manifesting/taking effect.

I had previously wondered why they couldn't just re-augment Sanji once they noticed he "failed", but when I re-checked the raw, the text says that the modifications was successfully done (on the "cellular level"/DNA, to use our world's terminology). It's just that the intended modifications did not "manifest"/take effect.

成功したはずでした does not mean "we thought it was successful, but actually it wasn't". It means that even though the "objective" (lineage factor manipulation) was successfully completed, the intended "outcome" (powers + exoskeleton) was not achieved due to other factors.

Sanji's "lineage factor" is already manipulated. They can't do anything to him anymore. It's jut that why/how the medicine Sora took can stop the modifications from manifesting, or how the raid suit can awaken it after so long is still a mystery.

So, if Sanji's mods fully awakens, I imagine that it's true that he will really become merciless like his brothers. All 4 of them went through the same treatment, after all. We saw that happen briefly when Sanji was fighting S-Shark.

Since Reiju has the abilities but her sympathy wasn't blocked, I theorise that it's possible to find the part of the lineage factor that controls emotions, and just "unblock" that one part.

Now that there's Vegapunk around, when they escape Egghead, they might be able to figure this out using Vegapunk's knowledge. The actual operation might not be immediately doable without the labs, but maybe if they find Law he can help? The actual details of lineage factor is mysterious, but if it's strictly physical/biology and not something that requires medicines/chemicals, it's possible that Law's powers can be used.

Alternative possibility is they might need to go to Neo MADS and demand that Judge himself undo it. Like, I think this is very very unlikely (and I don't really want this to happen either), but it might be a plot bridge to, you know, actually ask why he wanted revenge against the other North Blue kings.

Then maybe this will finally reveal the secret of Germa's past, because many things in the series seem to imply that they have or they know something important related to the World Government. Something that the crew will need to learn about or obtain.

Is Ichiji's powers okay?

In my theory posts, I analysed the various instances where Ichiji seems to display indications that he's actually different from Niji and Yonji. He might not have the full range of emotions like Reiju did, but there's something about him that's just different.

I'm somewhat curious if this as of yet unknown "anomaly" means that his powers are screwed up as well. He has exoskeleton, but we don't know for sure what built-in powers does he have.

I have previously mentioned the suggestion that his Sparking Valkyrie lasers might be just the suit. Sensei already confirmed in an SBS that the Germa abilities are half augmented in the body and half the suit:

So, maybe the emotions anomaly does affect Ichiji's powers to that without the Raid Suit he cannot do anything.

A possible hint that this was the case might be the fact that he just sat there not doing anything when at gunpoint in the wedding.

Niji's electricity runs in his body, so even if he uses it, it does him no good here if he can't use his arms and legs to fight. He can't shoot electricity blasts (the thunderclaps you see in the anime when he fights is not canon).

Reiju's poison breath seems to be a suit power, and her built-in ability is only for absorbing in poison. So she can't do anything either.

However, Ichiji could've lasered down the Big Mum pirates with his eyes since his head can still move. Or, even try to laser the candy to break free. We can see in the scene where he shot down Oven that the light blasts of Valkyrie can make holes in people. It might be able to break the candy.

Sure, they're surrounded, and there's the chance of him getting gunned down before he can do much, but the way he talks implies that "he can't do anything".

If the lasers is in the raid suit, then it makes sense that he can't do anything here.

The alternatives to this is either: 1) He wants to die for some reason. 2) The emotion modifications causes all the brothers to just easily give up and not have the will to fight to the bitter end. Like, maybe Ichiji actually has the lasers, he just didn't feel it's worth trying. Or 3) Sanji's flashback of Ichiji's eye lasers is wrong, and Sparking Valkyrie is not actually eye lasers (then what is it?).

All of that are something else entirely, though, so I won't discuss it here.

Eyebrow flip

We know that Sanji's brows flip when his exoskeleton activate, but how do we know for sure that both his brows flip? We only assume it's that way because of Yonji and Niji's.

However, what sensei said in the SBS is that "all the brothers have 66 shaped eyebrows like Yonji, but Sanji's is the opposite" and "his eyebrows did change" when the power of science activated. He didn't say that "Sanji's eyebrows both flip into the 66 shape".

So, what if when the eyebrow flips, it actually looks like this?

I don't think we can definitively say it's not like this, because the manga art has not shown what his full face looks like when his brows flip. Nothing in the series also has ever indicated that this is impossible.

The point of me bringing that up is because sensei also never said the siblings brows can't flip.

There are some panels where you expect you should be able to see the curl in Ichiji's brow under the bangs, but it's not there. However on other panels, it's visibly there.

That first panel is a very dead obvious one. It's too big to be an error, since sensei actually bothered to draw the curl on the other brow that's almost covered by Sanji's fist. If this was a mistake, then sensei must be very sick or otherwise not feeling well that week, if he could miss something in such a glaringly visible place.

If this is not a mistake, then maybe his eyebrow actually can flip too.

This is related to the theory above where I mentioned maybe Ichiji's powers are also imperfect. This is of course just a lot of conjecture, and we need more canon info before I can speculate further.

The same theory has been made about Reiju (i.e her eyebrows either flip too, or facing opposite directions). However, Reiju's modification circumstances are different from the quadruplets, and the Reiju examples I've seen are not as blatantly visible like Ichiji's one here, so I won't speculate on her yet.

Niji and Yonji?

The problem with knowing specifically what is "wrong" with the brothers is the wide semantic domain of even a single kanji. 情 is generally understood to be "interpersonal feelings" like affection or sympathy. But because this is vague, it's very hard to tell what emotions they can or cannot feel.

They can feel "concern", and Niji and Yonji both have obvious unsettled looks at Big Mum's collection. Yonji was even stunned to silence. What's up with that?

Unlike Ichiji, they have not displayed indicators of something funny going on, so for the time being I assume that "concern/care for family members" is not part of the "情" that is missing from them.

As for their reaction towards Big Mum's books of living things... perhaps the intention is to say that Big Mum is a more cruel/horrible person than Germa.

This instance makes me think of a Japanese saying that goes "even the oni of hell would vomit" 地獄の鬼すら反吐吐く所業. It's a saying to describe something so unbelievably despicable. In Buddhism, the oni's duty is to torture the dead for their sins in life for eternity. You can only imagine how bad it has to be that even the cruel and merciless "oni" of hell would be disgusted to the point of vomiting.

Here, if even the "heartless" Vinsmokes are disturbed, then it's just that bad.

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