#<- i guess? i mean it’s mentioned so. sure

[augustjoy]

The Color Pink

Based on the following ask: Hii, I was just wondering if you could do Aaron x reader but the team for some reason refuses to warm up to her for a while.  If you can please make the reader hyperfem only if you want to. Thank you!!!! I love the idea of Hotch with a hyperfem girlie – she’d be in pink ALWAYS, with a wardrobe and home full of ruffles! So, the BAU team is against this relationship of Hotch’s because 1. They assume she’s a bimbo due to the hyperfemininity and 2. She’s young. Basically, they are questioning Hotch’s judgement on this one. Flashbacks in italics.

Aaron Hotchner x HyperFem! Reader Angst/Fluff Word count: 2552

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is 20s/Hotch is 40s), female reader, np physical description (other than having hair long enough to curl and Aaron referring to her as little – which he’s big tall so everyone is small compared to him), hyperfeminine reader, explicit language, consultant reader, BAU being judgy overprotective, Morgan being rude, Spencer and Garcia defending the reader, Reader is a presumed Bimbo…but is actually really smart (Elle Woods-esque),  mentions of food/eating, reader has a flash of self-doubt, mention of Jack, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Meeting you had been an act of fate. At least, that’s how Aaron saw it. You were not the type of girl he’d typically go for…not ever. But that morning, you’d got a flat tire on your way to work, ironically on Aaron’s way to work. He had to do the right thing, any chivalrous man would, he was going to pull over no matter what, but when you stepped out of your car…that sealed the deal. He needed to pull over because if he didn’t, someone else would, someone potentially dangerous.

--

“Excuse me miss; do you need some help?” Aaron offered.

“Oh, I um – I got a flat. I called Triple A, but they said it be like forty-five minutes.” You explained.

You stepped out of your car and stole the breath from Aaron’s lungs. You were in a satin pink button-up blouse, with high-waisted white trousers, and strappy pink heels. Your hair was cascading over your shoulders in beautiful loose curls, your gaze lifted to his. Aaron had to release a light cough to pull himself out of the trance you had him in.

“Do you have a spare?” He asked.

“I don’ t think so. But like I said, Triple A is on the way, so I guess I will just sit and wait.” You shrugged.

“I’m not sure I feel comfortable leaving you here on your own.” Aaron admitted.

You gave him a once over. He was in a well-fitted gray suit, his hair lightly slicked back, black dress shoes, and a silver Rolex resting on his left wrist. You took quick note of the absence of a wedding ring. A very brief rush of unease slid through you, but it was washed away as he moved his hand to his hip, unknowingly flashing the FBI badge that was clipped to his belt loop.

“I’d hate to be an imposition. Plus, we are strangers…” You eyed him once more.

“Right, I uh – I’m Aaron Hotchner.” He introduced himself and offered you his hand to shake.

You shook it gently, giving him your name. You couldn’t help the blush that crept over your cheeks at the warmth radiating from him. It was your turn to feel breathless. Taking him in once more, you had to admit to yourself that he was handsome. Clearly older than you, but you didn’t mind…and age didn’t define beauty.

Aaron had waited the whole forty-five minutes with you, once Triple A showed up, he waited for you to get everything squared away with them before turning to leave.

“So that’s it?”  You called after him.

“What do you mean?” He questioned.

“You just sat and waited forty-five minutes with me and you’re just going to leave? Without asking me out? Or at least asking for my phone number?” You huffed.

Aaron was speechless. He had wanted to ask you out…truthfully he’d thought about it the moment you stepped out of your car, but he didn’t want you to fell that he was some sort of predator. But now here you were, this gorgeous little thing, asking him to ask you out.

“Would you go to dinner with me Friday? Provided my work doesn’t call me away.” He asks.

“Yes. Pick me up at seven.” You smiled, handing him a light pink business card.

--

Initially, Aaron didn’t introduce you to anyone because he wanted to see if your relationship would bloom into something real. As things did progress, he opened up to you about his life, his job, his family…and his demons. He hadn’t wanted to let his darkness taint your light, your sparkle, but one night while he was staying with you, he’d had a brutal nightmare, one that had him spewing all the information out to you while you held him close, your sparkle shining bright.

Another reason why Aaron had hesitated to really bring you into his world was because you were so different than the other women he’d dated. They were grown-up, mature (maybe even too mature), boring even, and here you were, this pastel princess whose home was filled with pink – ruffled pillows, lace curtains, fashion books, flowers, fluffy rugs, etc. you were the textbook definition of a girly-girl.

He was sure the BAU team would have some pretty strong opinions about his relationship with you, not only because of your differences, but also because of the almost 20-year age gap. It sounded silly, but he really wanted the team to like you.

The first time Aaron introduced you to the team hadn’t exactly gone as he had hoped. He had asked you to join them out at their favorite bar for drinks. They had put on quite the show in front of you, but when you stepped away to get a drink, the truth came out.

--

“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind, but I invited my girlfriend to join us.” Aaron mentioned casually.

A chorus of “what” and “you have a girlfriend” and “who is she” all rang out at once. He couldn’t help but chuckle at them. He figured he should answer some of their questions now so that way they could focus on getting to know you once you arrived.

“She and I have been together for about six months. It’s getting pretty serious and, uh – she uh…” Aaron smiles to himself. “She um, she’s different than the other girls I’ve dated, so just keep an open mind and get to know her.”

You arrived about ten minutes later, rendering everyone speechless. You walked in with a light pink mini puff dress on. It flowed around you in a cloud of tulle it rested against your upper thighs which were adorned in sparkly nude tights. You’d chosen to wear white lace up heels with it, and your hair was pulled back, pinned up with loose tendrils framing your face.

“Hi! I’m so sorry I’m late, a client called last minute and, you totally do not want to hear about my boring work.” You sighed, meeting the gazes of the stunned agents seated before you.

Aaron had officially introduced you to everyone, they exchanged hesitant pleasantries, and you began making small talk. After a few awkward moments, you excused yourself to get a drink.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Aaron asked.

“No, no. I got it honey. I’ll get you another whiskey.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked toward the bar.

As soon as you were out of earshot, the questions came rolling in. Most notably, Dereks.

“What the hell are you doing man?”

“I beg your pardon?” Aaron was shocked.

“Hotch, man, she’s young enough to be your daughter. And I mean, look at her.” Derek gestured toward where you stood at the bar.

“I am well aware of her age Morgan. She and I have discussed that at length and have both agreed that it didn’t matter. Age doesn’t change how we feel about one another.”

“Hotch, I’m more worried about the fact that she looks like she just walked off of sorority row.” Emily shook her head.

“Yeah, her outfit…Hotch she’s not serious. I mean she’s still a kid.” JJ added.

“That’s enough, she and I are serious. She’s not a kid; she runs a very successful consulting firm, she is kind and sweet, she takes care of me, she gets along with Jack, and I and…well. I love her.” Aaron concluded.

A muffled remark sounded from across the table. Morgan had more to say, and Aaron wasn’t going to let it go. He cared about you and the people across from him were his family, their opinions meant a lot to him…but right now they were letting him down.

“Say it out loud Morgan.” Aaron demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Say it.” Aaron hissed.

“I said she gets along with Jack because they’re closer in age.” Derek shot back.

The table went silent, tension filling the air. Aaron scoffed, shook his head in disbelief, and walked away. Moving towards you, coming up with some lame excuse to get the hell out of there.

“Look, I know that was a lot, but I didn’t say anything that we weren’t all thinking. That girl, she’s a bimbo. Hotch needs someone more serious…more like Beth.” Derek justified.

“Wow.” Penelope scoffed, pushing her chair away from the table. “You guys are terrible.”

“What are you talking about?

“Did you not see his face? Hotch is happy, his smile took over his entire face…because of that girl and you all tore him down so quickly. I mean come on. Spence when was the last time Hotch smiled like that?” Penelope asked.

“The last time Hotch has smiled like that in front of us was back in 2005 when he introduced Jack to the team as a newborn.”  Spencer rattled off.

--

That was about eight months ago. Aaron and you have grown even more serious since then, you moved in together – into a new house where you could set up a space that was all your own, full of pink and ruffles and lace.

Honestly, Aaron had gone as far as buying a ring for you. He wanted to propose and had the whole thing planned. He and Jack were going to take you on a picnic and then they’d ask you to become a permanent part of their family.

Despite the happiness he felt at the idea of marrying you, he couldn’t help the disappointment that crept in. He wanted his family to all be there in support of you two…and his family, well that was the BAU.

He knew he’d have to talk to them, to do something to prove to them how incredible you are.

--

Aaron had called everyone to the round table. He needed to tell them about how serious he really was about you, and he needed them to love you.

 “I asked you all here because today we will have a special guest for lunch.” Aaron went on to explain that you’d be coming in, bringing in lunch from one of the BAU’s favorites. “I know that when you all first met her, you were unsure. But I need you all to realize that I’ve been with her for over a year now, we live together, and…”

“You can’t be serious man. She’s naïve, just some young hot thing seeking an older man, presumably for his money.” Derek interrupted.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Aaron commanded. “I plan on marrying her, and you guys are my family. I need my family there when I marry this woman. If you can’t get on board…then I guess you aren’t the people I thought you were.” Aaron says with finality.

There was a collective nod and shrug amongst everyone.

--

When you walked in, you could feel the tension like a thick fog. It was all consuming, like picking a hangnail until that piece of skin runs further and further up your finger, bleeding and tender.

You needed this to go well.

Aaron had told you to be your usual self. He wanted the team to like you for you, but you knew it would be best to tone it down at least a little bit. You’d choose to wear light blue jeans, a chunky pink sweater, and some heeled ballet flats. Your arms were juggling multiple bags, filled with sandwiches and another one with drinks for everyone.

“Hi guys.” You offered a small wave as you entered the conference room.

“Hey sweetheart, let me help you with those.” Aaron was quick to grab the bags from you.

“You look stunning as always! It’s good to see you again!” Penelope greeted.

“Oh, thanks babe! I love the new hair; it is such a good color!” You complimented. “Oh, Spence, I got you something!” You pulled a wrapped book from your bag, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He asked, gently pulling at the wrapping. “The Narrative of John Smith, this is one of my favorites!” Spencer gushed.

“It’s a special edition, they only made 200 of them. But that’s not the best part…open the cover.” You were giddy with excitement.

Spencer opened the book to reveal that it had been signed. “Are you kidding me! This is amazing, thank you so much!”

“It’s really no problem.” You smiled.

Aaron was beaming at you, you had been so kind, showing them all who you really were, and he just hoped that they’d all finally see you for who you truly are.

As everyone finished their lunch, you began clearing the trash. Everyone offers thanks to you, the girls planning a day out with you. Each of them seemed to be coming around except for Derek. Aaron couldn’t figure out why he was so against you.

--

You said your goodbyes and made your way out. They had all filtered out of the conference room when Aaron decided to confront Derek once and for all.

“Everyone else has come around, so why can’t you? What is your problem with her?” Aaron asked.

“It’s not her that I have a problem with. Not really.” Derek shrugged. “Look man, I am sorry for how I have acted towards her. It’s unacceptable. But I don’t think you dating her is a good idea.”

“I appreciate your concern, but it’s misplaced Morgan. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“You think that now Hotch. But what are you going to do when she up and walks away. That is the type of girl who will ruin your life and Hotch, you’ve been hurt too many times. You and Jack have lost far too much.”

“Derek, I know you are worried for me, but I have to see this through. I really love this girl, and she can handle herself, she makes good money, so I know that isn’t the motivation here. She is everything to me, and she has done nothing but prove that she feels the same for me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I have your back man, and if you love her, then I’m not going to stand in your way.”

--

Things began looking up after that. Derek had pushed his concerns aside and took the time to get to know you, which only made him feel like an idiot for his behavior. Aaron had been right, you could hold your own – you were smart and witty and far to quick with your words, giving him a run for his money. Derek started to see how big your heart was, and he saw the changes in Aaron thanks to your presence in his life. He started to actually appreciate you and your love for his boss.

Aaron told you about his interaction with Derek and you offered some valuable insight.

“Honey, Derek looks up to you. You have made a huge impact on his life, and he has seen you lose so much because of your work, he’s seen you in, quite literally, your lowest moment. He just wants to protect you from hurting like that once again.”

“You are the smartest person I know sweetheart.” Aaron pressed a kiss to your temple.

--

Months later, the BAU team stood and witnessed Aaron and you vowing to spend forever with one another. You had finally been welcomed into this family.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust@khxna@crimesthatnooneaskedfor

[suzukiblu]

Day eighteen of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Oh, well, I guess partially? Though I think technically just Impulse and your boy here did, but yeah,” Bernard replies with a shrug. Kon . . . maybe also tilts his head. Okay. Yeah. He remembers Nina Dowd. Like, goddamn, does he ever. Fondly, one might even say. 

Specifically, like, he fondly remembers Mighty Endowed and her . . . “tracts of land”, was that how Tim had put it, as the ridiculous nerd he’d been and still is to this day? 

Dork. 

“God I’m still sad we didn’t actually get to fight her,” Kon mutters, shaking his head a little wistfully. “Worst missed opportunity that sixteen year-old me ever suffered, and I was sixteen for a minute.” 

“I–you–Bernard!” Tim sputters. “How did you never mention that before?!” 

“I dunno, babe, maybe ‘cause I’ve been pretending very, very hard to not know you were Robin?” Bernard reminds him with an amused grin, leaning in to lightly flick Tim’s nose. “And I felt like ‘oh hey did you know your buddies sent my one cousin to jail back when we were in high school?’ would maybe not be helpful with that?” 

“Technically Rob was also there,” Kon says. “And we didn’t really do much anyway, mostly we were busy dealing with the Super-Cycle and its shitty ex-boss. Actually, did literally anyone ever figure out why good ol’ Nina got the whole hottie-with-a-body New-God-meets-anime-catgirl treatment and none of us did? Like, did we ever get the Cycle to explain that one to us?” 

“I mean, are you sure you didn’t?” Bernard asks, looking him over meaningfully. Kon is not above preening for that. Very much so is he not above preening for that. 

“. . . were you actually concerned about that at the time, Kon?” Tim asks. “Did that occur to you at the time and you just decided . . . what, not to worry about it?” 

“Worst case scenario I coulda gone back to the Wild Lands, the beast-men probably woulda let me crash with ‘em,” Kon replies with a shrug, then takes another swallow of hot chocolate. God, it really is unfairly good. “Endowed got tiger stripes, right? I could rock me some tiger stripes.” 

“I mean I dunno, would your buddy the prince be into tiger stripes?” Bernard asks in amusement. 

“Technically he’s king now, actually,” Kon says. “Also he is a tiger, so I don’t see why not? Like, you’d think he'da been cool with that, right?” 

Tim says nothing. Somehow his total silence comes out very feeling all the same, though. Kon spares him another nice sharp grin and licks some of the melted whipped cream and caramel off the rim of his mug. Tim puts a hand over his own face and very feelingly continues to say nothing. 

“Probably wouldn’t need the collar anymore, right?” Kon muses “innocently” into his delicious chocolatey caramel-y goodness. “But maybe he'd lemme wear it for old times’ sake.” 

“I changed my mind, you should’ve just asked Nightwing and Starfire what they get up to,” Tim says dubiously, giving him a deadpan look as he does, and Kon actually fucking giggles over that one, which is maybe slightly embarrassing but oh well, he’s done weirder. Like, literally fifteen minutes ago he was doing way weirder, in fact. 

He kinda wishes Bernard’d get in the bed again, though. Dude’s kinda just been standing there, it makes him feel sorta rude or whatever. Admittedly Bernard getting back in this bed comfortably would necessitate some sacrifice of personal space and possibly someone ending up in someone else’s lap or at least real intimately pressed together, but . . . 

Kon, very briefly, tries to imagine what it might feel like if Tim and Bernard pinned him between them the same way they’d fucked him together just to, like . . . cuddle, or sleep, or like . . . whatever. 

. . . . . . . . . Kon needs to not imagine that right now, or his dick is going to have its own personal Mighty Endowed arc. Chances of accompanying maniacal catboy laughter pretty low, but still nonzero. 

God, though, he really would like to–no, nope, that is weird shit, self. Very weird shit. “Time for a new train of thought” levels of weird shit, in fact. Maybe a couple new trains of thought, if need be. 

“Jesus, you’re cute,” Bernard says, giving Kon a grin and reaching over to pinch his cheek, which should maybe feel ridiculous or demeaning but actually kinda just makes him wanna melt all over the dude. 

. . . need might be, yeah. Kon swears to absolute fuck, if he gets Pavlov-ed into getting horny over getting called “cute”, he will have to go supervillain for at least the next six to eight months. Like, he will go out and get himself a black bodysuit and smack on some gold armor and/or accessories and just finally have his Black Zero era. He has literally never actually wanted to have a Black Zero era, but over that cheek pinch thing, he genuinely just might. 

“I think you’re just projecting, man,” he says with a smirk, deciding to just hope he’s at least not blushing as hard as it feels like he’s blushing. Bernard grins wider at him and pinches both his cheeks this time, then flattens his hands against them and squishes them instead. Kon, unfortunately, has apparently gotten dicked down good enough that he just kinda lets the dude do it. 

Jesus, he is way too easy, isn’t he.

[musings-of-a-rose]

I got an idea for a soul mate type thing with Benny and a girl who works at a coffee shop, as for the soul mate part, maybe every time one person is injured the injury appears on the other person’s in the same spot but as flowers. Oh! With Benny being an MMA fighter he gets punched a lot and it affects his soul mate, so when he goes to her place to tell her about his fight, he sees her covered in flowers that are similar to the bruises on him and it turns inti the soul mate thing dawning on him and him apologizing profusely and her telling him that it wasn’t his fault . Maybe just a tad fluffy at the end

(I also really like your one shots, they’re very good. Thank you

SoulMMAtes

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 1865

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Sorry this took so long to get to! I've never written a soulmate au and then I wrote it but we all got sick! I hope this is what you're looking for.

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“Cappucino for Keith!” I project out at the handful of people waiting, a middle aged man coming forward, phone glued to his ear as he snaps his fingers at me, yanking the coffee from my hand and leaving without a word to me. 

“You’re welcome,” I mutter under my breath, moving to take the next order. 

I glance at the ticket and look for what I need, only to find the container empty. I sigh internally and head to the back room, my eyes scanning the shelf to locate the right syrup bottle. Which happens to be on the top shelf. I reach up to grab the bottle, my coworker, Amy, coming in behind me. 

“More flowers?” She points to where my shirt had ridden up, the bottom of a bloom of flowers just visible under the hem. I grab the syrup bottle and stand straight, lifting my shirt slightly to show her the rest. “Your soulmate is either clumsy as fuck or really loves to get beat up.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, that would be my luck.”

“Still no idea who it is?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Do they hurt still?”

I shrug. “They used to. Now I guess I’m used to it.”

I remember being told about soul mates and our attachment to each other, any pain the other receives will show up on their mate’s bodies in the form of beautiful flower tattoos. They did not mention that pain often comes with it. The first time they appeared, it was my right eye. I missed class and called out of work for a few days. Supposedly, the flowers are to give you a clue as to who your mate is. How it helps, I’m not entirely sure, since I still haven’t found my soulmate yet. 

I follow Amy out of the backroom, bottle of syrup in hand, swapping it out with the old one. Some time passes, and then I hear my favorite regular’s voice placing his order. I look up just as Benny walks to my end of the counter, all blue eyes and a big smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart! Do you ever go home?”

I smile, looking away from the intensity of his gaze for a moment. “Nah. I sleep in the back on top of the bags of beans.”

Benny chuckles and my stomach flips. “Is that why your coffee tastes the best?”

Fuck. Why can’t he be my soulmate?

“I sneak hard core drugs into yours so you’ll keep coming back for more.”

A smile stretches across his face, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’ll come for you anytime.”

I can feel the heat in my cheeks, spreading across my face. I turn, trying to hide it and the smirk on my face as I busy myself with his regular order. I feel a small tug at my heart, a yearning for this man that I know I’m not matched with. I school my face and turn back, handing him his coffee. 

“Well that’s good to know. It’ll save me money. But my dealer may not be happy.”

Benny laughs, his eyes twinkling as he opens his mouth to say something. But then another blonde man walks up to him, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “You ready to go, Ben?”

Is it just me or does Benny look a little…sad? He turns towards the man and nods. “Yeah. Oh, Will. This my favorite barista in the world. This is my brother, Will.” 

He sticks his hand out and I take it briefly, noting the firm grip. “Nice to meet you, darlin’.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Will turns to Benny, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “We gotta go now or you’re gonna be late.” 

Benny glances at his watch. “Shit. Yeah, ok.” He looks at me, a little sadness in his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I feel like my heart is in a wrench. Get over yourself. He’s not even your soulmate. I plaster on a smile that I hope seems genuine. “I’ll be here!”

—----

That night was one of the worst nights in a while. I just barely make it home before the pains start, first across my ribs, then a knee, my cheek, and my eye. The pain is more intense than it has been, and I throw my bag down, kicking off my shoes just to drop my body onto my bed. Smaller flower tattoos erupt across my body for next few minutes, the pain eventually fading into the background as I curl in the fetal position, wondering what the hell my soulmate is doing. Eventually, somehow, I fall asleep.

—----

The morning sun shines through the blinds on my face and I blink awake, stretching my cramped limbs. It’s a moment before I remember why I was in this position. I drag myself into the bathroom, shedding off all my clothes and step in front of the mirror to assess the marks. There are small, lighter ones scattered around my body, mostly on my torso, with the one on my ribs bright and beautiful. Thankfully, the flowers on my face have faded, for the most part. Gently, I touch them, a tear slowly falling down my cheek, thinking about what might have happened to my soulmate. 

I reach for my phone and call my manager, explaining that I can’t come in today. They weren’t having it though, telling me that I’m closing and they’ll see me tonight. Sighing, I hang up the phone and try my best to cover up the gorgeous marks, wondering and hoping that my soulmate is ok. 

—----

The only thing that was getting me through my shift was the thought of maybe seeing Benny. The doors open and close, people coming and going, none of whom are the man I want to see. I shouldn’t want to see him, but I do. About 10 minutes from closing, the last of the customers file out, one of the men laughing loudly and punching his friend in the arm as the door closes behind them. I sigh, moving to start the closing routine, especially since I’m alone. It was so slow, I let the other employee go home early to be with her kid. The door opens as I’m about to dump the remaining coffee. I turn and am met with familiar bright blue eyes, sweaty hair plastered to his face.

“Did I make it?” Benny is trying hard to make it look like he isn’t breathing heavy.

I’m happy to see him, but also worried. “Yeah but..are you ok?”

He nods, slight pain in his eyes that he desperately tries to bury. “ ‘m good.”

There’s silence for a few moments as I watch him try to fight for his life with the breathing. “I’d make you our usual, but honestly that coffee has been sitting a while. You should probably have a decaf tea anyway.”

Benny nods. “Sounds good.”

I turn away from him, hearing him suck some air quickly through his teeth. A little sharp jab in my side reminds me that I’m nearly overdue for another round of pain killers. I head towards our tea shelf. 

“Slow night?” Benny asks.

“Yeah. It’s never busy on these nights.”

I scan the jars on the counter, naturally finding the chamomile on the highest shelf. Sighing, I stand on my tip toes, my arm outstretched to reach the box. My fingertips graze it when I hear Benny move, his shoes thudding across the floor as he comes around the counter. 

“What is that?” He asks, suddenly behind me and the closest he’s ever been. Fuck he smells so good. 

I glance back over my shoulder, tea bag in hand as I mange to turn in place. “Uh…what?”

Benny points to my back, where my shirt had ridden up while reaching for the tea. “The marks.”

My cheeks flush and I look away from him. “Oh, it’s uh…a tatt…too?” Great. That sounded convincing. 

“Show me.” It wasn’t a demand, but it didn’t feel like a request. I swallow the lump in my throat. I know that once he sees the marks, he won’t come back. Why would he waste his time when he could be finding his soul mate?

“It’s nothing, really. A dumb idea when I was younger.”

His eyes soften slightly, his eyebrows pulling together to do that stupid look that makes me go weak. “Can I see?”

We watch each other for a long moment before I nod, turning my back towards him and raising my shirt to show off the beautiful flowers that bloom across my ribs. His fingertips brush against the marks and my body tingles, shivers shooting through ever nerve in my body, my stomach feeling like it’s full of butterflies. 

“I…I am so sorry, sweetheart.”

I turn back to him as he takes a step back, my heart clenching at his movement. “Sorry for what?”

“I didn’t fucking think about…I didn’t realize…holy shit but yeah of course! Oh fuck this makes sense!” The concern is battling with a dawning realization on his face.

“Benny, what-” He grips the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, his chest bare. 

And covered in bruises and nicks. 

My eyes widen as I see the darkest and most prominent bruise, splayed across his ribs exactly where my flower marks are. As my eyes roam across his torso, my hands touch places on my body where the marks are, each one of them identical to the bruises on Benny. 

“You?” I whisper, my eyes finally landing on his. 

He nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “Me.” He holds a hand up, palm facing me and I press my hand to his. The same feeling shoots back through me, my nerves alight, butterflies bursting from my stomach, but also a sense of coming home, being safe, warm, and loved. Benny steps closer to me, lightly gripping my ribs and pulling me close to him. With his other hand, he brushes some stray hair from my face, tipping my chin up to him as he places the softest kiss on my lips. Everything slides into place - the way I always felt drawn to him, why my body was physically reacting to him in more ways than one, why I couldn’t stop thinking about him once I’d seen him. His embrace feels exactly where I belong. 

I pull back, his eyes searching mine. 

“Are you a terrible ninja or something?”

Benny laughs, his whole body shaking with it. “Nothing cool like that. Just MMA.”

“Are you terrible or?” My eyebrow cocks up and he smirks. 

“I win every fight. I just know how to take a punch.”

“Well could you maybe take a few less from now on?”

Benny smiles. “No need, sweetheart. I’ll quit. I don’t want you in pain for my stupid mistakes.”

He presses his lips to mine again, moaning slightly into the kiss. But then he inhales sharply, hissing out. I feel the twinge in my ribs and I know he’s hurting. 

“Ok, let me clean this place up and then I’m taking care of you. Got it?”

Benny smirks, his eyes twinkling. “Yes ma’am.”

-------

General Taglist:

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[vodika-vibes]

You Don't Want Me

Summary: In a world where the majority of people are split into Alphas or Omegas, you’re one of the small portion of the population who isn’t either. You’ve long since come to terms with the fact that you’re never going to have a romantic partner, and you’re, mostly, fine with it. You just wish that your neighbor would stop flirting with you.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F! Reader

Word Count: 1384

Warnings: A/B/O but it's not smut, I'm just playing around in the setting. Technically the reader could be read as GN but I put them in a sundress.

A/N: So I had an idea, and this was born. I hope people like it, lol

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Well now, don’t you look pretty today,”

You roll your eyes as the familiar voice of your neighbor reaches your ears. “Thanks, I guess.”

Crosshair grins at you, rolling his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, “You’re welcome,” You ignore the way his eyes flicker down your body with practiced ease, “You got a hot date today or something?”

“All this because I’m wearing a sundress? No, Crosshair. I don’t date, you know that.” You straighten from where you had been messing with one of your planters, “Not that it is any of your business if I go on a date or not.”

His grin widens, “I’m just looking out for you. People are scum, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You squint at him, “Is there a reason you’re hanging out in my backyard?”

He shrugs, “We have a shared backyard, neighbor. You don’t like it, put up some fences.”

You huff out an exasperated laugh, and shake your head, “You know, someday you’re going to find an omega who’s going to be really annoyed with how obsessed you are with me.”

He pauses, his long fingers absently tapping his thigh, and then he smirks, “Nah.”

“Nah? The fuck you mean ‘nah’?”

Crosshair, like all of his brothers, is an alpha. Alphas partner up with omegas. Its what they do. Something about pheromones and hormones and biology. You’re not really sure.

You never had to learn because you don’t have any of those characteristics.

Scientists, and doctors, call people like you Mu. Halfway between an Alpha and an Omega. In the end, all it means is that you’re a freak.

But you’re fine with it. You have to be. What other choice do you have?

“Having an omega is way too much work, have you heard how Tech’s girl whines for him? Like, all of the time. I’m surprised Hunter hasn’t killed her. Even I find her voice grating.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about your sister-in-law like that?”

“Meh. She already hates me, it’s not like she can hate me more.” He crosses your backyard to peer over your shoulder at your garden, “Your herbs look like they’re coming in nice.”

You’re slightly surprised by the topic change, but you go along with it happily, “Yeah! I was worried because the sage did so poorly last year, but I must have gotten the soil PH right this year.”

You turn to look up at Crosshair, and your smile falters when you see the look on his face. It’s a soft look, with a small affectionate smile that smooths out the harsh lines of his face into something gentler.

It’s a look Crosshair directs towards you regularly, and it’s a look that never fails to make you blush. And today is no exception, as you hurriedly spin away from him to check your other planter before he notices the effect he has on you.

And, as ever, he releases a quiet chuckle that gives you goosebumps.

“What else do you have growing?” Crosshair asks, his breath warm against your ear. He’s close enough that you can feel him pressed against your back.

It really isn’t fair that he keeps doing this to you. He’s an alpha and he knows you’re not an omega. He’s just being cruel for the hell of it, you suppose.

“Um…” You step away from him slightly, grateful and disappointed when he doesn’t follow you, “Tomatoes, broccoli, and a couple of other herbs. I have hot peppers growing in the other planter over there.”

“I’ll have to remember to mention that to Wrecker when it comes time for the harvest,” Crosshair mutters, “He’s always complaining about how expensive peppers are.”

“Well, I’m happy to share. I always have too many anyway.”

You glance away from him and lean over to check on one of your tomato plants, only to squeak and jump when you feel his finger drag up your spine from the small of your back.

You spin around to stare at him, your eyes wide. His fingers, which had been resting comfortably on the back of your neck, now sit right over the pulse point on your throat, and he looks at you like the cat that caught the canary.

“Um...what…?” You try to take a step back but you’re so close to your planter that you don’t have anywhere to go, and when you try you almost lose your balance, so Crosshair has to hurriedly wrap his free hand around your waist to keep you steady.

“Why do you keep running from me? Am I that intimidating to you?”

“No, that’s not—,” You trail off, you can feel your heart racing from nerves, and you know he can feel it too.

“Then what’s the problem?” He carefully maneuvers you and walks you back until your back bumps against the cool material of your home, “I’m not blind or stupid, I can see how you look at me.”

“That’s—“

“—and I can feel how your heart is racing now that I’m touching you. You’re clearly attracted to me, and yet, every time, you run away. Why?”

“I’m not an omega.” You blurt, “I...You—“

He scoffs, “I told you. I have no interest in having an omega.”

“Sure, you say that now, but—“

His eyes narrow at you, “But what? You think I’m the kind of man who would let my hormones control me?”

You don’t have an answer to that, because the truth is, in your experience, all alphas are. Example 1? Your former boyfriend who cheated on you as soon as he ran into an omega in heat.

You don’t have to answer, your silence is answer enough, and he scoffs again. “You do. What kind of shitty alphas have you been around, pretty?”

“That’s not...he couldn’t help his nature…” You trail off, not sure why you’re defending your ex.

“No. He’s just a shitty guy who used his hormones as an excuse to be a dick to you.” Crosshair leans in to press his face into your hair, “Fuck, you smell so good. Like sunshine and the beach—“

“...I’m sorry?”

“That was a compliment, pretty. You smell so much better.”

You feel like there’s a part of this conversation that you missed, but you don’t want to ask him for clarification, not when he’s pressed against you like this. Not when you can feel his lips on the shell of your ear.

But, you do make one, final, attempt to dissuade him from this. “Cross...I’m pretty sure that you don’t want me—“

You’re not able to finish your sentence as he pulls away and pins you in place with a severe look, “You don’t get to decide what, or who, I want.”

You shoot him a doubtful look.

“Fine, let me speak plainly then. I want you. Only you. Since the day we met.” His words make heat rush to your face, and you want to avert your gaze, but he won’t let you look away, “I have no interest in the drama that comes with partnering with an omega. And, to be completely frank, the scent of omega pheromones gives me a migraine.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” He bumps his forehead against yours, “So, give me a chance?”

You stare at him, your heart in your throat.

This has the potential to go so wrong. And you know, in the same way you know the sun will rise in the morning, that if it does, you’re going to be the one hurt. Again.

But you want to trust Crosshair.

And you’re so tired of being alone all the time.

So, even though fear and uncertainty have you in a vice grip, you don’t stop yourself from reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck. And your actions are rewarded with a look of pleasure.

“So?” Crosshair asks.

“If you break my heart,” You warn him, “I’ll find some way to make your life miserable.”

“Noted.” He bumps his nose against yours, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Yes, please.”

And then his lips are against yours and it’s not perfect. It’s a little awkward and a little clumsy, and your teeth knock together. But you wouldn’t change it for anything in the galaxy.

@heidnspeak

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[thenightshadowqueen]

The Hobnob Affair—Watchthrough Thoughts

Yes! I’m back! I’m not sure if I’ll continue to be in a place to do these going forward, but I’m feeling up for it today, so here we are. I loved this play so much (and Luke was hilarious in the livestream chat), so fair warning that this is, as always, pretty long. But for those of you who, like me, have fun reading these things: I hope you enjoy!

Ooh, the idea of starting with a narrator is really interesting; I like it

“Sorry. Just killing time. There you go.” I love the way he says that and I don’t know why (also I always adore it when they use a microphone)

Tom having to lean down so far to reach the mic is my new favourite thing, actually

“A little café” I think they forgot that basically immediately and I love that for them

“Oh… Love can be difficult. It can be even more difficult when you’re trying to get a mic off the stage whilst maintaining your gravitas.” I love Tom so much

“Sometimes when I’m angry with David, I call him a fat cunt.” What a healthy-sounding relationship (I mean, I guess if David’s really fine with it…?)

“I don’t mean it, though. He’s not fat.” The moment of pure silence

“But I am a cunt” I will never be able to hear this without thinking of Luke in the live chat saying ‘so true Sam’

“Raw materials” AJ (also I adore when one of them (to be honest, it’s usually AJ, and I say that with so much love) fucks up some little thing and it becomes the plot of the play)

“You mean ingredients?” “Ingredients—Noooo.” Go on, AJ, double down on it

“Dough and flour. You’re a maverick, you are.” Sassy Sam, hell yeah

“Steel-dough flour biscuits” only in a SFTH play, I swear

Ooh, John and David/Terry/Dave—we’ve got another gay couple!

Also “John.” “John.” is hilarious

“Even though his name’s definitely Dave” um actually Luke it’s David (lighthearted; I love it when they forget names)

The look on Sam’s face when he changes the scene is glorious

Hello Tom (he should wear tank tops more often, because, like… he looks good)

This is so fucking ridiculous and I love it (a blacksmith-bakery—peak SFTH)

“You ever seen a pussy cook?” Jesus, Tom

“Took about nine months” I love Sam

Sam always goes all out for Scottish accents and I adore it

The continuation of the Sam-Tom stagecraft war!

I love Cindy Campbell with all my heart

Sam’s dramatic fucking door-opening is incredible

Wait, so John (AJ) is trying to buy raw materials from the blacksmith-bakery? Do they sell raw materials, or just the finished products?

“Oh, no, don’t. ’Cause it’ll make me feel bad about mine.” Um, no, excuse me, Tom’s not ever allowed to feel bad about himself, actually

I love how Tom’s always the one to hype up AJ’s muscles; it’s so sweet

AJ playing football (???) with the hammer is just so quintessentially AJ

“You [thruhmp] and I’ll [duong]” AJ???

I love it when they sing so much

“You could be the son I never had” right in front of your daughter???? Okay, you know what, this guy might have great arms, but fuck him

“She’s only fourteen.” “I’m eighteen.” Ah, Shoot from the Hip, the kings of ‘yes, and’ (sarcastic but affectionate)

“It’s so they can fuck” thank you for that hand motion, Sam

“I treasure this young man, and I bet he’s got standards” okay, nope, yep, FUCK THIS GUY

“No offence” yeah, fucking sure

Okay, so he’s a self-aware asshole

The way they fade in and out of conversations in order to do two scenes simultaneously is incredible holy shit (you can really tell how long they’ve been doing this and how well they work together)

Tom just jumping in and breaking the two-scene flow to correct AJ is beautiful

“My girlfriend says that I’m a massive weight and I have nothing to offer” what healthy relationships on display in this play

Tom and Sam in the background oh my god

…am I starting to ship Angus Campbell and Sam’s character?

“A series of fun parlour games” I don’t know why I love the way Sam phrased that, but I do

Also this is not about SFTH but they mentioned daylight savings time and I just feel the need to add FUCK DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME

“A biscuit can mend a broken heart” that would make great merch (“it’s on our slogan”) (although I’m hoping for ‘raw materials’ merch, personally)

God damn it, Angus, you were so close

Look, I know I said I hate Angus, but I am rooting for him; I like to think that someday, in the future, he does some therapy and gets to make amends (although I wouldn’t blame Cindy if she didn’t accept his apology)

“Don’t call your ex. Don’t do it.” As someone who doesn’t have any exes, I can’t speak personally, but I’ve heard that calling them is generally a bad idea, so: hey you! Listen to AJ! Don’t call your ex!

I love Sam’s “bad girl” characters, actually

The detail in Sam’s mime is killing me

That is so many beeps, good god

“That was my unlock code” I love AJ

AJ is just picking on Luke at this point and I’m here for it

Sam

Also Sam is just staring directly into the camera and it’s scaring me

“Call averted” ???? Is that a British thing, or a misspeak, or…?

“Phone unlocked” ah, Luke’s revenge, I see

“MEGACALL unlocked!” …I’m not even going to ask, actually

Oh, John, baby, you are not helping yourself right now

Shoutout to the subtitlers for the placement of the captions saying each person is laughing

I adore Lucy, actually

“What if I can’t move on? What if you were everything to me and there’s no life—” oh, sweetheart, we really need to get you some self-esteem

The little cheek rub? I’m sorry, that was so fucking cute????

Oh, okay, cute might have been the wrong word

Fucking hell, Luke (at least he didn’t take his trousers off again (Nigel flashbacks))

“Du-bye-bye” that was so stupid and I loved it

Okay, Sam, damn (I love how much Sam carries the others)

Also Lucy carrying her go-go-dancer partner bridal style is one of my new favourite things (they are literally in half a scene and I’m so invested in their relationship)

ALSO the way Luke holds his arm out as Sam carries him is giving me “behold, Luke” (Marigolds, Bluebells, and Hugh) flashbacks

The captions are the best as always; “heartbroken rage-screams” is indeed the best description of that noise

AJ oh my god (this is the new Tom-with-the-wine moment) (which means it’s never going to leave my head) ((we don’t need to talk about how often I think about Tom with the wine))

…Are we just brushing past the fact that Angus Campbell and Sam’s character literally sleep together? Because my conviction about this ship is growing

Do they genuinely just sleep in the blacksmith-bakery???

I never knew the name of that song (I know, I’m uncultured), so I’d like to thank the captions for that

Special-effects-J™

“She became a series of crumpets” I’m fucking sorry??? Tom???

This is graphic

“Aye, I’m not sexiest.” “No! You’re just abusive to your daughter.” “Aye!” Well that’s a quote

Ah, so Angus has good intentions and is just fucking horrible at executing them

Ooh, Troll-Father?

As someone who has no idea what a hobnob is, I’m greatly enjoying trying to piece it together (I know it’s a kind of cookie/biscuit, and I’m getting chocolate? But that’s it)

Oh, okay, they’re happy about the chocolate on both sides; I thought they were going to be upset, but I’m pleased to see they’re not

“You didn’t even put any ingredients in” excuse me, Tom, what are ingredients? We only know RAW MATERIALS here

“The Bussy Café” fucking—I was NOT expecting to hear that today good god (does Tom know what that means? Because in the QnA I got the sense he doesn’t) (to be honest it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t) (but it sounds like Sam does know what that means and to be honest, I’m not surprised)

“Alright, Sally” you know, Sam is the only one who ever gets away with getting people’s names wrong

“It’s here on this plinth.” “The plinth came out of nowhere as well.” “No, it came from here; you just didn’t see it.” I love the stagecraft war (and the word ‘plinth’)

“It’s been a while since I’ve been impressed” look, I am trying to root for you and your potential future redemption arc, but you sure making it very hard

“The technique was all mine” HELL YEAH show them Cindy!

Hey! Mrs. Campbell can be a beautiful, seductive, blonde, muscular, big woman; who says she can’t be both?

“’Cause I trusted myself even though you didn’t trust me” go on, Cindy, overcome your upbringing!!!!

AJ taking the phone again????? I am never going to get over this oh my god (look, I don’t know why the Tom-wine bit and now the AJ-phone bit get in my head like this, okay? They just do)

No, John, don’t do it!

“I’m lying here in Dubai, just thinking about you while I’m wrapped up in Marco’s arms” No, wait, I really like Lucy and Marco! Or, wait, hang on, maybe they’re polyamorous; I mean, if she’s making this call while in his arms, he’s clearly fine with it, so… Yeah, that’s going to be my headcanon (Also, I know the storyline is about John moving on, but now I’m thinking about a Lucy-Marco-John-Cindy polycule, and… I’m getting off track, sorry)

Also I don’t think we’ve ever gotten this many names before; I think every character has a name except for Sam’s character who works at the blacksmith-bakery (and Mrs. Campbell, technically, but she’s a. dead and b. got a surname)

“I’ve sent you a selfie” Sam

“How would you like to bake something in here for nine months?” SAM

The beginning of Angus’s redemption arc!

…AJ, what are you doing?

Oh, Jesus

Oh my fucking GOD

AJ

What the hell were you thinking

He just dropped someone’s phone

They are unhinged

They are unhinged and I love them so much

Wait, no, I like Lucy; I don’t want her to be a crumpet (maybe the phone is a crumpet now, and she’s just fine)

Kiss!

That’s a great kiss, as well

“I knew they were” Tom

I adore it when they end the play with the title (and I love that it’s always Sam who does it)

Unhinged. Fucking insane. I love this play.

[dangermousie]

On the benefits of dating a high up in secret police

Watching The Glory and a convo with @biochemjess made me realize that this is a fourth cdrama I've seen where dreamboat ML is a high up in the secret police/judicial torturer club - Under the Power, A Dream of Splendor, Blossoms in Adversity and now The Glory.

Why such a preponderance of these dudes? Either this is because it's an easily approved way to get yourself an unhinged ML or because some high up censor has a cousin in the Ministry of State Security who is super lonely and asked for a favor, thinking portraying his profession in a positive light will improve his chances in the dating world.

But you know what? While normally I'd recommend against dating a man who drives needles under fingernails as part of his job duties and can tell different kinds of whips apart by sound, if you are a typical period cdrama FL, you can do a hell of a lot worse. In fact, being some sort of long haired costumed Chinese KGB type is pretty damn desirable in a partner.

It's been very long since I've watched Under the Power and I was honestly bored so I can't discuss it, but let's take the other three.

For a FL of Splendor, whose ex is hellbent on wrecking her life and who meets more psychopaths per square meter than there are in a maximum security prison, having a man who can threaten to skin offenders alive and mean it is def a bonus. FL of Blossoms? Remember when her aunt tried to create trouble by hanging herself in front of her house and ML just calmly moved the body, framed someone else, and then went to sleep like a baby and FL never even knew? That is freaking useful!

And look at the FL of The Glory? One can always hope ML will have a bad day and murder her whole awful family; not to mention he's always only the third most psychotic person in the room when her clan gathers.

Sure, the MLs of Splendor and Blossoms have powerful families that cause issues for FLs (too early to know about The Glory ML) but let's face it, it's a cdrama - there were always going to be horrid family issues for FL one way or another - at least these FLs have men who know how to bury the bodies if things get out of hand!

In conclusion, long live Murder MLs, I guess!

[riddlemearose]

hello i have come to ask more about wild with magic he cant controll

i love that hc so much and it fits him so well! like no one taught him bc hyrule was mostly empty, and he wouldnt even know he had it himself because why would he! its genius!

Sure, I’m happy to info-dump lmao.

I know other people have already come up with the "Wild has magic" headcanon about botw before, but for me it honestly started as a series of jokes with a friend. Basically it made sense to me since all the other Champions’ abilities are either outwardly shown to be magic like with Mipha and Urbosa, or at least implied to be, as in the case of Daruk’s magic being hereditary, and Revali’s being something no other Rito has managed to achieve.

So we were both like “oh yeah, he’s got to have magic” *cue shitposts and memes*

There’s minor evidence to support its existence in botw; Teba says to Wild “it was as if time stopped with every arrow you let fly”, and Daruk’s Training Journal mentions that Link once told him that it feels like time slows down when he focuses. Some people take this to mean Wild has really good reflexes and others went with magic. I’m in the ‘Wild has magic’ camp bc someone did the math and worked out he’s like… almost moving at super-sonic speeds when he closes the distance to start a flurry rush.

The reason I say he can’t really control it is bc the only time he’s ever shown being able to do so is to enter and exit bullet time. That’s literally it. If you dodge at the right moment, even if you don’t want to flurry rush, it’ll still trigger and give you the opening to perform one (which ends after like 1-2 seconds of inaction). Wild also doesn’t have a magic meter like some other Links do; he uses his stamina. He’s literally brute-forcing his way through his magic (which, side note, Urbosa must’ve hated watching). And, to build off that last sentence, this means that Wild probably doesn’t have a lot of magic, but he does recover it incredibly fast – especially compared to the others who have to use potions. More on this last part in a moment.

It’s true that no one was there to teach him per se, but I think it’s a tad more complicated than that bc botw has an odd thing where it shows a lot of magic users (at least as far as I understand when compared to other games) but doesn't go into detail, which is fair given the Calamity. This means we don't really have a concept of how prevalent magic usage is in the grand scheme of things.

Looking at the series in a whole, for hylians/humans magic is largely limited to the Royal Family (specifically the women of the Royal Family), and they seem to mostly wield light and divine magic, very different from time magic. (The Ocarina of Time is there, but that’s an heirloom and not severely limited with its function based on whether its user has royal blood or not.)

And given how the Sheikah have been treated in botw's Hyrule's history, as they are the only other hylians aside from Flora and Wild who are shown using magic, I'm guessing it's not a skill you want to encourage, and innate magic users, even if they weren't Sheikah, were probably affected by the roll-on effect of the genocide for a very long time. This would create a long, deep-set history of missing knowledge that eventually affects the present.

If you ignore the potential loss of magic teaching, honestly I would assume it’s still hard to teach someone magic when you don’t share that particular type bc it probably requires knowledge that you don't have in regards to how it flows and can be controlled in order to be used. I do very genuinely believe Wild knew that he had magic before he died tho, bc I think Urbosa would’ve told him. It was the only time she ever heard him speak and the convo went something like Urbosa: you have magic. You just did magic. Link: nuh-uh Urbosa: FYM NUH-UH

This lack of training and general knowledge of how magic works is what I partially attribute to his weapons breaking as fast as they do. Attunement doesn’t actually exist obviously, but in fantasy worlds where it’s a part of the magic system, it’s a conscious step. It’s only seems to become an involuntary one when the person attuning the item has a lot of experience with the field that item is used in.

What I mean by that is Wild’s obviously never learnt actual theory (and it might be too late to fix the groundwork he's already laid), so he’s only ever been able to make his magic work in conjunction with the one thing he’s already being trained to do: weapon-fighting.

This is why he has flurry rushes, bullet time, and his fast recharge time. His magic manifests alongside his physical capabilities (so it will recover just as fast as his stamina does) and is attuned to flow through physical objects that simply aren't designed to withstand prolonged exposure to it (so his weapons, bows and shields will degrade and break faster).

I do believe his magic is something he has the ability to train (take the change to how bullet time uses stamina between botw and totk for example), and I personally like to write him getting a one-hit-swing second of slowed down time whenever he parries, but I think these ‘upgrades’ would honestly just come from fighting more and pushing himself in those situations, not from learning basic magic principles lmao.

And honestly, Wild’s magic is just really funny to me bc it has shenanigan potential that’s really only limited by your own creativity and his stamina wheel.

I say that because part of this magic headcanon actually grew from a post-totk headcanon where I whole-heartedly believe that Wild and Flora end up sharing the Sage of Time title, since there’s one extra Secret Stone floating around and they both specialise in different types of time magic. The joke w/ my friend has now become “well, if Wild can’t even willingly activate his magic unless highly specific circumstances are met, wtf is going to happen when it's amplified?"

Answer: he has literally no idea what he’s doing. He has accidentally slowed time on several pots/ladles/plates/etc that got knocked over, mistakenly frozen a yiga sword which yanked it straight out of the yiga’s hand – he meant to freeze the yiga whoops – and intentionally managed to slow time on one (1) bokoblin (and has not managed to replicate that result since). … he’s getting there. Maybe.

(Additional follow up lore can be found in this reblog. Also adding this to prevent future confusion at my accidental vagueness on this: yes Wild knows he has magic.)

[neighbourscat]

𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐘 || 𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . president’s son!rafe cameron X crisis manager!black!fem!reader. ||

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 . .. . lowercase intended! second person reading-perspective. mature language! ‘G’ in ‘God’ & ‘J’ in Jesus is lowercased. age-gap between black!fem!reader (32) & rafe cameron (24) / power dynamic! multiple uses of ‘y/n’ and ‘ms. mcclellan’. mentions of political corruption and doctoring. suggestion of and carrying out of an inappropriate relationship — while engaged to another! political drama! heavily inspired by scandal and how to get away with murder. wordcount :: 3.8k!++

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . pyd, justin bieber ft. r. kelly ! || nervous, the neighbourhood !

BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY

with a perfect, manicured nail hovering over the green-call button, you thought of every way the next few minutes could go. each turn, each road block, each scenario more vivid than the next of how your mother would make the conversation / your situation, about her; letting you know what she wouldn’t have done, like ‘lie straight to the chief of staff, the national security advisor, and senior white house counsel’, though she sure would have, or remind you again that the white house just wasn’t the place for you. the courtroom was, by her side. she was batman, you were always robin.

you’ve tried the courtroom with your mother. you’ve tried ‘tegan mcclellan & associates’ law firm. it took you four years to realize that that wasn’t exactly the path you wanted to continue down, for building your own name and your own career was impossible with a.) tegan mcclellan constantly in your ear and b.) within the walls of tegan mcclellan’s fix-it-all firm. you experienced first hand why, sometimes, being employed in a family business does not work.

though, there were good things that came from ‘tegan mcclellan & associates’ .. you guessed your fiancé wasn’t too bad when he wasn’t complaining about work, loathing your mother, or drinking himself to sleep. like your friends, who were ( are ) constantly competing for your mother’s attention, approval, or begging you to put in a good word so they could take charge of a case.

you switched off your cellphone. you pulled open a drawer of your new desk and dropped the device into the empty space. you froze, taking another look at your phone .. and closed the drawer — a single knock sounded at the doorframe. you quickly gathered your thoughts.

“i heard what you did.” announcing her presence; it was gemma sutherland, looking slim and trim in a navy blue dress with white stripes under a plain cardigan, white pantyhose, and dirty red flat heels — this was gemma’s first year as the chief of staff’s assistant. gemma’s job entailed her to run around the west wing; delivering reports, key files, and memos to the chief of staff and the senior advisor. “you are incredible, ms. mcclellan.”

“thanks.” you hummed, unenthusiastic. you glanced over to the door, your expression cool and calm. you waved gemma in. your dark eyes — eyes that had sized up countless opponents in debate, law school — fixed on gemma with the kind of intensity that made her stomach flip. you weren’t just intimidating; you were magnetic.

gemma could hear her heartbeat in her ears, she did her best to keep her face neutral. “i, um, just wanted to applaud you,” she answered, her voice sounding a touch higher than usual, “i actually wanted to speak with you, ask a question or two .. really quickly, before you’re off.” gemma grabbed herself a chair, one of the three that had been lined up against the wall, and set it opposite your desk. without thinking much, she asked: “the recording was ‘doctored’?” not of usual icebreaker variety.

you gave a clean nod — you removed the president’s son from the narrative entirely. the recording was manipulated? a bold lie. a dangerous lie. but in today’s age; a world where digital forgeries were becoming harder to detect, it was plausible. “i know it’s not my place, but .. i’d rather hear about it - all of it - from you than the news, or office whispers in passing, if that - what happened in there?”

gemma knew of you. she knew a lot, but she learned more from the catch-up! category of the insider’s edge ( gemma had followed every article, every piece of gossip ); a self-owned, widely-read platform run by a seasoned political commentator who thrived on breaking exclusive, behind-the-scenes stories from capitol hill to the oval office. the blog’s built a reputation for sharp, incisive commentary, particularly on the role of women of color in washington’s power circles.

you weren’t just any washington insider. you were practically political royalty; the blog had chronicled your ascent from law school — where you showed flashes of brilliance akin to your mother’s — to your internships on captiol hill, and now to your coveted role in the white house.

the insider’s edge had consistently highlighted the pressures you face: navigating your role as a woman of color in a predominantly white, male political landscape while constantly being compared to your mother’s success. the blog didn’t dare shy away from critiquing your every decisions:

the blog’s most recent headlines:

— “following in her mother’s footsteps or creating her own path? y/n mcclellan’s first 100 days in the white house starts today!”

— “does washington have room for two mcclellan women? a look at the legacy y/n has to uphold!”

— “the new! crisis manager to watch: will y/n mcclellan rise above the expectations?”

— “recently engaged. is y/n taking his last name? or is he taking hers? i’d take hers! duh!”

gemma, with her auburn bob and bang swoosh, leaned in a bit — holding both hands over the edge of your desk. when you looked into her light brown eyes, it was just enough to make gemma’s heart rate spike — yeah .. gemma read the insider’s edge a lot, went nowhere without the tab available on that samsung device in her back pocket.

“gemma -“ you had barely exhaled when a harsh knock blared at your office door. rafe cameron stood in the doorway; tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, his usually composed expression shadowed by disbelief. his gaze cut past gemma and landed directly on you.

she looked between you and the president’s son .. not wasting a second — gemma nodded, pushing the chair back. she hurried out, not even brushing past the towering man .. and as she raced way back down the hall, she realised that she had gotten an answer to something that had been bothering her for months.

gemma sutherland was a reddit user. an avid user. months ago, she had stumbled upon a conversation post that had asked what y/n mcclellan smelled like, if one had to guess; many answered ‘too good to be described’, while others answered ‘chocolate’ or ‘vanilla’ or ‘pumpkin’ or ‘sea salt’, like a cool summer night on the boardwalk.

but gemma had an answer: floral. powdery. classic. like baby lotion. or exactly baby lotion.

— he closed the door behind gemma, careful not to let it slam.

“if you’re here to thank me .. don’t.” you started in ( poor ) attempt to lighten the air. and that was no good. you weren’t sure why you even tried. you remembered how he looked at you in the situation room — why would right now be any different? “why are you in here, rafe?” you should have started with that.

rafe took another step closer — hands in his pockets. and then another .. until he was standing directly in front of you, close enough that you could see the way his pulse ticked in his throat. close enough that the toe-part of your pearly-white heels bumped into his shins — you instantly uncrossed your legs .. any type of contact had your mind melting.

low and quiet: “because you lied.”

you should have expected this. “i did what had to be done.” you had lied. boldly. completely. without hesitation. you had taken something that was undeniably real and turned it into a fabrication. a deepfake. a smear campaign. a coordinated attack on the administration.

and the worst part?

people were actually believing it. the press was running headlines about AI-generated disinformation. pundits on cable news were questioning whether the recording could be trusted. the white house’s story was sticking ..

but it shouldn’t have been, because rafe had been there.

the scandal wasn’t just bad. it was catastrophic. it had everything the opposition could have hoped for — a secret meeting, an incriminating recording, and the president’s son; the face of the first family’s younger generation, at the center of it. the tape painted a clear picture: rafe cameron had tried to broker a private deal with a foreign power — one with enough economic leverage to tip the election if they pulled their support.

if the recording had gone unchecked, it wouldn’t just cost the president his reelection — it would have triggered a congressional investigation, accusations of collusion, and a media storm that wouldn’t die down until the administration was irreparably damaged.

and you had just buried all of it. you had stood in the situation room, surrounded by the most powerful men in the country, and rewritten reality with nothing but your voice — maybe your mother would be proud. you did what you always did. you fixed it .. but fixing wasn’t the word for what you had done. you lied. you fabricated a reality that did not exist — “by any means necessary,” your mother had instilled.

“i did it. i did that. i went behind my father’s back - you should have let me take the fall.”

you shook your head, rolling the office chair back .. giving yourself space to stand up. “i fixed it. i handled it.” he scoffed, scratching the scrunch in between his full eyebrows, “th- .. that shit? you call that fucking-shit fixing? handling? really, y/n?”

he watched as you circled around him and take position at the opposite end of your office .. at the liquor cabinet; its contents: high-end and classic. whiskey / bourbon, cognac, vodka, wine / champagne. “i saved you,” you corrected. “i saved you from public - generational trauma and humiliation -“

you snatched up a glass .. you wouldn’t go for something subtle. not tonight. you bypassed the carefully curated diplomatic wines and the champagne meant for toasts. you didn’t reach for the vodka — too clean, too impersonal. no .. you went for the bourbon. something strong and powerful. something with weight. you didn’t bother with a slow pour. two fingers, neat. no ice. no dilution.

“- you are welcome -“

“oh come-the fuck-on!” with lengthy strides, rafe came up behind and stole the glass of bourbon before you could gulp down the rest. “be honest with me, huh? you’re capable of that, yeah? me, not them? right?!”

a deep sigh, annoyed and exhausted. mentally. emotionally. politically. “if i didn’t, the administration would be over.”

“bullshit.” he set the glass down.

you rolled your eyes and reached for another mini glass. “well .. what else do you want me to say?”

“hmm, how about the fucking truth? hmm? for once, maybe? that would be fan-fucking-tastic.”

you huffed when his warm hands stopped yours from taking the bottle of bourbon. rafe then, gripped your shoulders and forcefully turned your front to face him completely. “what .. in the fuck .. were you even thinking?”

again: “the administration.”

rafe dropped his head — “you’re lying.” he removed his heavy hands from your shoulders and started toward your desk, creating distance. he couldn’t breathe anymore. taking a breath felt so much harder on his body. “this .. this wasn’t just about the administration.” rafe met your gaze again, “you didn’t lie to protect my father, his feelings and his job. what-the fuck-ever. you did that to .. to protect me. and i need to know why.”

yeah .. that had nothing to do with the president. and it had nothing to do with the reelection. “you don’t get it.” the answer was short, and way too simple.

“then make me get it.”

you shook your head — grabbing your previous glass of bourbon — because saying it out loud made it real. and if it was real, then so was the madness of what you had done. you had spent this entire year crafting your new career; fighting, clawing your way into the president’s inner circle, making yourself indispensable.

you felt like your mother.

the single woman who raised you to be sharp, relentless, untouchable. the woman who spent her life twisting the truth with ease, making impossible choices, cutting the world open with a scalpel and stitching it back together before anyone noticed the wound — the woman you swore you would never become. the woman who had taught you that power wasn’t about truth — it was about control ..

.. because in washington, that’s what survivors did.

rafe stared hard .. he wasn’t looking at you like a strategist. he wasn’t looking at you like a fixer. he was looking at you like he had just realized you were capable of anything.

“i ..” you were supposed to be above this. above emotions. above personal attachments. but tonight? you lied like a woman who had something special to lose. “.. saved you.” refilling the glass, “i saved you the trouble.”

“what ..?” searching your face for a new angle. “you should have let me fall.”

“i saved you ..” you repeated, wincing after the liquor intake, “.. from ruin. from becoming’a headline. front page of every outlet, broadcasted on every news channel. from the kind of scandal that doesn’t jus’end careers - it destroys legacies.”

rafe released a sharp breath, moving in — furious and disbelieving, “you think i give-a-shit about legacies? seriously?”

“i know you don’t. you’re reckless. i think you have no idea how dangerous that shit was - how one misstep, one wrong word, one leak could have ended everything. everything would have crumbled because of you!” you pointed a finger, hand trembling with restrained anger, “hours and hours and hours of everyone’s time spent into securing your father’s presidency .. wasted because of you!”

“me?!”

“yea’! yea’you! you don’t get to fuck up! you -!” and you stopped yourself. you had to. you couldn’t keep yelling .. especially at the president’s son. anyone could have barged in and caught the sight. you lowered the glass nearby and moved from the liquor station. you settled down on the arm of the lounge chair, much further from rafe now. you crossed your legs again, “you don’t get to be naive,” you said after, folding your hands over your knee. “you don’t get to be stupid. a stupid young adult .. like everyone else. you don’t get to make mistakes and think they’ll only fall on you -“

rafe stiffened, fists clenching and unclenching, his sky blue eyes widening just enough for you to see it. he dragged a hand down his dry mouth, his composure cracking. he needed the room to stop spinning — so he dropped himself down onto a corner of your desk .. looking straight at you. eyes flickering from your face, to the layered jewelry around your neck, to the closed buttons keeping your breast covered, to the glittering engagement ring on your left finger ..

he blinked off then.

“- you are the president’s son. you are the heir to a machine built on power and perception. and if you had gone down for this? if i had let you take the fall?”

a pause.

lethal, intimate: “they wouldn’t have just ruined you. they would have burned and buried you.”

rafe swallowed deeply, his adam’s apple bobbing.

“you would have been reduced to a cautionary tale. a disgraced footnote in your father’s presidency -“ unable to sit still anymore, you slid from the armrest. “- his failure. his shame. and then, rafe? he loses. ‘nd everything .. every policy, every promise, every ounce of work this administration has done - gets erased.”

and you weren’t done. not nearly.

you were marching toward him .. getting dangerously close. so close that he was starting to see the fire in your eyes, the seriousness. “rafe ..” barely a whisper, almost intimate in its intensity, “.. i saved you from a lifetime of being the reason your father lost his second term. i saved you from a shit-storm you would have never recovered from. i saved you from the press tearing into you, from the wolves in that room who would have chewed you up and spit you out before you even knew what was happening.”

rafe sitting on your desk allowed him to finally be eye-level with you. “i saved you from yourself.”

and the words hung between. rafe just stared at you, breathing hard. because now? now he understood. you hadn’t done it because of politics. you hadn’t done it because of strategy. it had felt like desperation. you had done it because it was him. and you cared so deeply about him.

that was the real problem.

you don’t save people. you fix. you manipulate. you control. you lie to keep your clients, your candidates, your president unbeatable.

again, this wasn’t strategy. this wasn’t some calculated political maneuver. because you cared about rafe, you had to save him. and for the first time in your career, you didn’t make a move based on logic or power or control — you made it based on him.

rafe was a weakness.

no. you turned sharply, ready to pack up your belongings and head home for the night. you had said what needed to be said. made your case. explained yourself well enough — rafe’s hand caught your wrist .. his grip firm and hot, locking around the cold silver of your timeless watch, like a restraint and a plea all at once.

“rafe,” a low warning.

but he didn’t let go. “i like when you say my name ..” with little force, he pulled you back in — swift, deliberate, no hesitation.

your body collided with his, and suddenly you were standing between his legs, your knees brushing against the edge of your own desk, your breath coming fast. “wh-no, rafe.” he shushed you softly, shaking his head. he released your wrist, only for a second, to snake both arms around your waist and tug you in even closer.

his gaze — god, his gaze. “no, rafe.” you tried to rip yourself away .. he wouldn’t dare let you go. not right now. your throat was dry and every exhale felt uncomfortable.

softly, “can we stop the bullshit?” rafe tilted his head a bit, careful as he leaned in .. trying to be extra sneaky. “please?” he leaned in some more, just enough for you to feel the heat of his breath against your jawline, and it was infuriating how easily he unraveled you. “please? can we stop the bullshit? please?” he was intoxicating.

when he pulled back to meet your eyes and study your face .. he could see the way your lips parted, the way your next breath caught, the way your entire body seemed to betray you. “please ..?” his fingers moved, maddening and slow, and skimmed the hem of your button-up.

a test. a warning. a promise.

you didn’t stop him. didn’t shove him away. didn’t say the words you should have said. so .. he kept going — his fingertips traced the first button, lingering for just a second before he slipped it free, gentle and precise, like he had all the time in the world.

“let’s stop the bullshit, yeah?” rafe’s fingers brushed against the skin just beneath your collarbone, burning against the cool air now slipping between the fabric. “we can do that, right?” light and easy.

then, the second button.

this time, you sucked in a breath, your pulse drumming beneath his fingertips. rafe lifted his gaze, watching you again — watching every tell. because you could outtalk, outmaneuver, outthink anyone. but your body couldn’t lie. not to him. he moved lower — third button, fourth — his knuckles grazing bare skin, the edge of lace beneath. “tell me we can .. ms. mcclellan.”

and when his slick fingers ghosted over your ribs, you finally reacted — your hand shot up, gripping his wrist, holding him still. your breath was ragged, your pupils blown, and god, you were trying so hard to fight this.

to fight him.

“you know i don’t beg, ms. mcclellan ..” and for you he would, which you knew. “we’re not doin’ th’bullshit anymore, right?” instead of responding, you brought your hands to his chest, fingers dragging against the soft, expensive fabric of his blazer.

he didn’t move. didn’t breathe. didn’t dare break the moment as you slowly pushed the suit jacket off his shoulders. the fabric slipped down his arms, and when he let it fall onto the desk behind him .. you found the first button of his crisp white shirt and drew downward; you were crossing a line you could never uncross.

his shirt parted just slightly, exposing the smooth skin of his collarbone, the faintest hint of muscle underneath. you continued on .. you weren’t thinking about the scandal. you weren’t thinking about the lie you had told to protect him, about the fact that you had risked everything for him.

you were thinking about how rafe cameron had always been off-limits ..

he didn’t speak, didn’t smirk, didn’t push — like he knew this was something you needed to do .. and this was something you needed to do.

daydreaming: two bubbles had been floating around in his mind. rough .. gentle. the two words were bolded and in their own unique, distinct font. and then, more words swept in. the question: ‘how was she in bed’? reserved? kinky? passionate? placid? dominant? submissive? too lost in his own world, he opened his mouth and almost asked the question —

— without so much as a warning, he felt your thumb on the underside of his cock .. you took in a low breath, heavy and wanting as you crept all the way to the tip. the pad of your thumb teased and gently dipped into his slit before you lifted your chin, finding his eyes.

rafe’s face twisted up as he let out a wounded noise. his whole body locked, gasping .. he hadn’t felt when you unzipped his fresh slacks and dipped your hand below, into his boxers. with a deeep gulp, he grumbled out: “i can’t do this ..” there had been enough build-up. there had been far too much sexual tension the last couple of months. he couldn’t do the foreplay. he couldn’t do the teasing, the edging, the whatever else before the sex. “i can’t -“ swallowing a sloppy mess of saliva that waved over his tongue.

in one swift motion, he took two fistfuls of your button up and tore it back — loud and deafening, you couldn’t react quick enough. rafe unfastened the safety straps, spun you around, and unzipped your mini-printed pencil skirt. the professional attire crumbled at your heeled feet .. again, he twirled you back and giving you zero time to adjust, lifted you up into the air — as if you weighed nothing, his strength an effortless vigor you couldn’t ignore.

for a second, everything stopped .. the world quieted. you were so caught in the moment, so heated and so caught up in him .. you didn’t hear what he had said. yeah, you saw his lips move .. but no sound was produced.

“put it in .. need you t’do it.” a sweet whisper. a whisper too good, you hadn’t thought twice.

[byoldervine]

so is there a reason you dont respond to dms orrrrrr

Okay you probably didn’t mean to open the floodgates but I need to VENT about this and an anon ask is there perfect excuse to do that without calling any particular individual out, which I do not intend to do

I have exactly one person in my DMs that isn’t someone asking me to commission them, and we only had a brief exchange a few months ago. For the most part I don’t respond since it always seems to follow a formula

Pretty much all my DMs start with someone saying “Hi” with no further context or elaboration, and from that alone I know where this is going but also don’t want to just make an assumption and come off as rude, so I respond in kind. The response is usually “How are you” or something like that; a pleasantry that doesn’t really do much to explain what’s up. So again, I just respond in kind. About 95% of the time they just respond with an “I’m good thanks” and, once again, nothing else

I don’t know how common this is outside of people asking you to commission them, but I honestly don’t like when people DM you but still somehow expect you to make the effort to start the conversation. I don’t know why you’re here, you came to me; what do you want me to say at this point? Maybe I’m just too antisocial to realise this isn’t abnormal behaviour and I’m just being rude, but it really winds me up tbh

And more annoying, when done in this context at least, is when they start asking further questions and trying to start a conversation - still without explaining why they’re actually messaging. Not because I don’t want that, but because, when it’s done to get commissions, it feels kinda manipulative to me, but at the same time it always makes me doubt myself; on the off chance this actually is someone wanting to talk and be friends, I don’t want to shut them down and be rude about it. So I’ll usually answer a question or two to see if it actually goes anywhere, but it of course never does

I end up asking “Is there any particular reason you wanted to DM me?” and the response still never gets straight into it; it’s almost always something like “Do you like art?” or “I see you like drawing” or things like that, like they’re looking for a prompt to continue. Again, no clue why this is. At this point I’m just dreading it because I know what’s coming but at the same time I think stuff like “What if they’re just wanting tips? What if they’re just a bit awkward? What if I assume and it’s wrong and I look like a presumptuous asshat?”, so I usually just go “Yeah?” instead

And THEN they finally mention that they do commissions, and I’m pissed off at myself for getting to this point again. I end up saying something like “Thank you, but I really enjoy creating my own artwork and so I’m not looking to commission others for it. Best of luck though”

The best response I can hope for is just a “No worries” or something, or even to just get no response at all. But the vast majority of the time, it’s something like “Oh, okay then…” or “Are you sure? I do X Y Z, you should look at my posts” or even “That’s fine I guess, I just wasn’t making enough money off of commissions this month so I needed to go around and ask”. Things that feel a little bit passive-aggressive or pushy to me. Though I also get ‘lovely’ messages like “I see you’re drawing X, I can help make it better”, which even I can’t excuse as anything but

So at this point, I don’t typically respond to DMs that don’t explain why they’re messaging. I’m more than happy to chat with people and make friends, but too many people do it just to get the commissions and then ghost when I don’t bite. It really upset me the first few times because I thought I was about to make some artist/writer friends, only to find out that they only wanted business from me and they weren’t going to talk again if I didn’t give them that

Please don’t let this deter anyone from reaching out and DMing with the intention of just having a chat; I would be more than happy for it. I just wanna know upfront what you’re looking for rather than getting a sinking feeling when I see that dreaded “Hi” pop up again

[angeliccelestt]

Sweetest

Ochako Uraraka x F! Reader

Pt. 1

Sleepover ;p

Artic Monkeys mention ;p

Ochako Uraraka, is the most thoughtful person in the world. It was no wonder why she had so many friends she would always make sure nobody felt left out or like they didn’t belong so it didn’t shock you when she invited you to the girl's sleepover in the dorms. At first, you wanted to say no but when you saw the face she tried to hide you couldn’t help yourself but agree.

That’s why you’re at the grocery store with her on snack duty, you knew she wouldn’t have been able to keep track of what everyone wanted so you offered to help her.

“Did Mina say regular starburst bag or just the pink ones?” Ochako asked, looking at the shelf full of so much candy that it was almost overwhelming. “Uhhhhmmm pink ones” you say as you open your phone to check the time. “Hmm, we should probably hurry up, we’ve barely got much done from how much we were joking around.” you giggle, remember the photos you just know she’s going to post later. “Yeahhhh you're right I don’t think we have that much time we still gotta set up my dorm for the sleepover." Ochako said while smiling at you, it made your heart flutter but you tried to dismiss it. Clearly, she doesn't like you like that; she just likes you as a friend, right? I mean, have you seen the way she acts around Deku, there's no way she likes girls.

Ochako's POV: "Hmmm, I feel like we're missing something." I tell Y/n, looking around at the set up we made for the sleepover. "Hmmm, we should probably change into pajamas." She smiles slightly in my direction, a smile that anyone could appreciate, the warmness she brings is so comforting, I knew she had to be at the sleepover. "Oh yeah! I have matching pajamas if you wanna match with me!" I look in her direction, returning her warm smile. "Yeah I'm down"

I get out the pajamas, mine being white with pink bows on it, hers also white but with light brown little bears on them. "Here, I think they'll suit you!"

Y/n's POV: "Thank you!" I say as I walk out of Ochako's dorm to the bathrooms so I could change into the pajamas. She always found a way to bring a smile to your face, no matter the situation she always makes the room brighter and happier. I slip on the pajamas and glance at my phone.

"Goodness gracious." I sigh, putting my phone away, walking towards Ochako's room, and see the door open. I guess some of the girls are already in there. I walk in seeing Mina, Momo, Toru, and Jiro on the bed in their pajamas, meanwhile, Tsyu is in Ochako's desk chair. But Ochako is the only one who isn't in the room. "Where Ochako?" I glance around the room at the girls. "She went to go get extra blankets, were making pallets!" Tsyu replies. "Oh, okay."

Ochako walks in with a few blankets and pillows. "You think this should be enough?" She joyfully asks.

Hello!! This is my first post so I made it a little short to sorta “test the waters” I was kinda upset I hadn’t seen much wlw mha content so I decided to make some! I have some experience in this type of stuff (old Wattpad stuff ;p) but I hope you guys like it and give feedback, please!! (I’ll make the next part longer if this one does well)

[brittscafe]

Pairing: Jushiro x wife! reader

Summary: Jushiro x wife! reader. Jushiro has a rough day and really craves his wife after they haven't been intimate recently.

Request: I would like requesting if you, Don’t mind a jushiro x reader. Jushiro having a very hard day usually he’s extra clingy when he has a really hard day with his third seats and so he tells the reader that he wants them and all I guess smut idk if that’s enough detail. May I add that it was a while since him and the reader(his wife) had s** bcs of injuries she had so he was hard on her.

A/n: Hiii! I love writing for my sweet Jushiro <3 Please enjoy!! It's been a while since I've written smut for Jushiro and this was so fun to write!!

Content: NSFW. Mention of reader wearing a dress. Unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), creampie.

Ko-Fi link (please consider buying me a coffee! Anything is appreciated)

Tag- @coowayeoo

You tuck the edge of the sheet underneath the mattress as the door to your shared bedroom with Jushiro, slides open. He's got a deep knot in between his eyebrows and an annoyed expression along his face.

A heavy sigh falls from his lips and you perk up your head, gazing at the man from behind your shoulder. Jushiro rolls in his bottom lip, biting on it as he admires your checkered pattern dress.

It's short, fairly short that the bottom of your ass is hanging out, teasing Jushiro.

"Hi, honey. Is there something wrong?" you ask, sensing something off with your husband. Jushiro's eyes rake over your body, the way your fitting dress brings out your curves, how your ass and breasts look; taking in a deep consideration of how much he's been wanting you lately.

"Rough day," he shrugs his shoulders, feeling his cock grow inside of his pants.

Recently, you had a leg injury and a few others, meaning less intimate time between Jushiro and you. Jushiro didn't want to hurt you, but that doesn't mean he wasn't longing for your touch everyday.

Jushiro feels a strain in his pants and he clears his throat, walking up to you. You spin around on the heel of your foot, facing Jushiro as he grabs your face, roughly pressing his lips against yours.

You moan against his lips from the suddenness of his kiss, closing your eyes and leaning into his embrace. Jushiro's lips are warm and soft against yours, a hint taste of tea on them.

"I want you...so bad," he breathes out desperately, pulling away from your lips and your heart skips a beat, heat traveling down to your core. You bat your eyelashes, gazing up into his lust filled eyes and your lips curl up into a tiny grin.

Jushiro's face is mere inches away from yours as you feel tingles jolt throughout your body. "Show me then. Show me how badly you want me," you speak softly, placing your hand on his bare chest, where his uniform is loose.

Jushiro grabs onto your hand and squeezes it.

"I will with pleasure," Jushiro explains, fingertips grabbing the straps of your dress and pulling them down your shoulders. Jushiro drags your dress of your body, revealing your naked body underneath.

Your cheeks flush as Jushiro grabs your waist, pulling your bare back up against him. You can feel his erection pressed against your ass as his hand cups your breast, squeezing it.

Your lips gape open, letting out a tiny moan from the pleasant touch.

Jushiro presses soft, sucking kisses along your neck, moving along your shoulder blade.

"You're so beautiful, my wife. I will make sure you feel so good tonight," Jushiro whispers into your ear, lips grazing along your earlobe.

Goosebumps form along your arm as Jushiro takes your nipple in between his fingertips and squeezes your sensitive bud.

"Jushi," you breathe out, your cunt becoming wet and desperate for Jushiro's touch. For a moment, his hands leave your body and you can hear his clothes dropping to the ground.

This time, you can feel his cock pressed up against your ass and his hand travels down your stomach, cupping your cunt. His thumb flicks over your clit and waves of pleasure coil in your stomach.

You lean your head back, letting it hit Jushiro's shoulder and you let out a tiny whine. He lets out a deep chuckle that sends waves of electricity through your body.

Jushiro presses you down onto the bed, starting to climb on top of you as you turn over onto your back. His long, silky, white hair hangs down and his bangs hang in front of his narrow eyes.

"It's been so long, I've been craving you, y/n," his voice sends a chill down your spine as he positions himself in between your legs, spreading them.

The cold air hits your cunt, but only for a moment before Jushiro's hard cock is pressed up against your folds.

"I've been craving you too, Jushi. I don't want to wait any longer," you whisper out, reaching out and touching his chest. Jushiro pumps his fist over his cock, before rubbing it in between your folds, coating his cock in your juices.

"I don't intend to make you wait any longer," his voice is deep and raspy as he lines up his cock with your entrance. He guides his cock into your cunt as you let out a gasp as Jushiro's cock fills you up.

"Feels good already," your voice is hushed, your cunt getting used to his fat cock inside of you. Jushiro can already feel your walls squeezing around his cock and his hands grip onto your thighs.

He leans over, placing a soft kiss on your lips as his hair tickles your flesh. As Jushiro's lips intertwine with yours, he subtly pulls back his hips, bringing his mushroom tip all the way back to your entrance.

His hands squeeze the fat flesh of your thighs as he slams his cock all the back to your pussy. Your back arches and you let out a loud, pitiful moan as you feel his cock fill you up and hit the sweet spot inside of you.

You have to pull away from the kiss to breath heavily. Jushiro's burying himself deep inside of you, so deep that it makes your eyes roll back into your head.

You can't possibly be quiet as Jushiro rolls his hips in and out, cock easily sliding in and out of your cunt. His cock is thick and hot, hitting that perfect spot until your pussy is gripping his dick so tightly.

"God, I'm sorry for being so rough, but I need you so bad," Jushiro groans out, his fat mushroom tip hitting your cervix with every thrust, broken mewls and moans leaving your lips.

Jushiro's panted breaths fill the room, a gleam of sweat glistening on his face. You can feel the coils in your stomach starting to come undone as Jushiro pounds into your abused cunt.

You grip onto his shoulder blades, pulling him closer to you and wrapping your legs around his torso.

His hands explore all your waist and stomach, squeezing at every bit of flesh he can. Rough skin slapping fills the room as your thighs start to tremble.

Jushiro hand grips your jaw and your eyes meet as Jushiro's thrusts get faster and rougher. "Go ahead, baby," he demands, seeing you slowly unravel.

Jushiro can tell when you're close, the way your moans become more high-pitched, how your body twists, and how your back arches, wanting to feel him deeper.

Tears welling in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure of Jushiro's precise thrusts. "Jushiro," you whine out, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

Your cunt buzzes as you reach your climax, letting your jaw drop open and a series of loud, Your pussy clenches around the fat of Jushiro's cock, squirting all over his cock. His cock becomes hot, coated in your cum as his cock twitches inside of you.

A throaty grunt escapes Jushiro's throat as he lolls his head back, squirting his seed into you as his hips stutter. Warmness fills your cunt and Jushiro's arms twitch as his muscles throb.

"Jushiro," you call out, cheeking his cheek and swiping your thumb over his soft skin. He gazes down at you, slowly pulling out his cum coated cock that's becoming soft.

"F-fuck, I'm sorry, y/n," Jushiro declares, the two of you panting. He rubs the inside of your thigh before laying down beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Sorry for what?" you ask, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"For being a bit rough with you. I know it's not an excuse, but I had been craving you for so long since you had your injuries. I couldn't help myself," Jushiro explains, eyes soften and gazing over your bare body.

You slightly pinch his cheek and chuckle lightly. "No need to apologize, Jushi. I have no complaints for you being a tad rough," you explain, inching closer into his arms and resting your head along his chest.

A smile dances along Jushiro's face as the two of you bask in each other's embrace. Hm...he might have to be rough a little more often then...

[sturnioz]

I actually haven't been that active on the fratboy Chris tag in a WHILE. So, imma give my take on what I think had happened in their pasts and what could possibly happen.

We all know Chris can be and is and asshole. He doesn't care for romantics, and it has been proven time and time again. He's cold and closed off, even to his brothers which you would assume he'd let loose a little. He's close to his mother (from the phone call bun overheard) which I'll get back to. But that's kinda it? He doesn't plan on opening up to anyone, so maybe something triggered that and there could be a future stressor to reopen that. Who knows what your series will say.

Now, bun is different. Not in the way of 'opposites attract' but there are key differences that are mentioned. Her shy behaviour for one. She has only been with Chris and had all her firsts with him. She isn't exactly as shy anymore in thay department but either way, she is close to Chris given that he is the only one she's been with. But I also don't immediately take her for an overtly romantic person. I'm sure she dreams of it or imagines situations like that but if she really wanted that then would she stay with Chris? I doubt it. Bun has friends, connections and it's stated that Chris isn't making her stay with him that way sooo...

To their pasts I'd say they are similar with a lot of aspects. A decent childhood with opportunities like a lot of other children, a close network of friends and family to keep them well. However, I'm thinking that Chris had his start to differ maybe around puberty or a little later. A lot of kids start to explore sexually or in relationships and something could have changed with him. A bad relationship made him stiff, not wanting to open up like last time. The fact he is still close with his mother in a way also gives me reason to think his father or other family member was narcissistic or problematic. (Based on my own experiences). Either way, he wasn't always like this, a triggering event or course of events changed his behaviour when he was vulnerable to change.

I'd say that Bun has been consistent a lot of her life. She was always shy in childhood and kept to herself, enjoying quiet more than most. A tight network of friends that she wouldn't dare stretch from unless she was introduced by another friend etc. I wouldn't say she's had any stressor to make her suddenly submit into herself, hence her naïvity around Chris' situations and attitude, brushing it off as 'him'.

I do think Chris will crack at some point. Like mentioned before, a stressor could occur where he lets something slip etc. During the whole formal event, he was upset and beginning to subtly get upset when bun wasn't messaging back. If he was any closer to bun than he was, some shit EASILY could've gone down, paranoia, arguments etc. Bun might find out information she isn't meant to? The phone call with Chris' mother was enough to make her question things for a moment. Let alone anything else of any other level. I don't mean stuff he does eg. Sell drugs - one, he is open about that, and two, he has no reason to lie over it. Yet, knowledge is more powerful in this context.

This is slightly vague over scenarios I see them in, but I'm going a lot based on psychological reasons rather than just imagination, so I'm likely to be wrong. I also haven't read a lot of your recent works due to my inactivity, so this may have been proven wrong in updated posts. However, this is just what I think. I could easily write about if Nick or Matt knows what happened to Chris or even if the same thing happened to them etc. But I'll save that.

Enjoy I guess lmaoo

im sorry i dont have much to say to this without giving my own plot away but i just want you to know that i enjoyed every second reading this beautiful fucking take.. the way you analyse everything is so fucking gorgeous

[lilith0fthevalley]

Texas Chainsaw AU!Leon Drabble

Content Warning: This drabble contains themes of manipulation, psychological tension, and an undercurrent of unease. There are references to ominous folklore, implied family secrets, and a subtle but deliberate challenge meant to lure the protagonist into potential danger. Readers should be aware of themes involving isolated rural settings, social dynamics with an eerie undertone, and a charismatic but potentially menacing character.

In one of the few, crowded bars of Newt, Texas, Y/N takes a sip of her beer and narrows her eyes over the neck of the bottle as she lowers it. “Well, I’ll be damned... Who in the hell is that fine piece of ass right there?” She asks the two women next to her at the hightop. Claire giggles before speaking up first. “Why, Y/N! That is the newest addition to our lil' town of Newt, Texas… Says his name is Leon Kennedy.” Claire offers in a hushed whisper. She smirks and tosses her shot back, the immediate burn evident on her face as she winces. Jill speaks up next. “Ain’t no damn way he’s a Kennedy. Y’all know what folks say ‘bout that family. Disfigured, antisocial, inbred freaks.” Jill takes a sip of her whiskey and shakes her head “Violent hermits, too, if the stories’re true. People say they can’t tell a friend from a fuckin’ enemy.” Claire just rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on now, you know them’s just rumors. And besides—maybe he’s some real distant relative or somethin’… real distant.” 

Y/N's eyes rove over the newcomer and she gives a lazy, cocky smirk. “Well, Kennedy or not… sure as hell don’t look like he’s got that awkward, backwoods energy the rest of ‘em do.” She gestures subtly with the tip of her beer. “I mean, look at him—charm drippin’ right off him like honey. Ain’t even gotta try, and Ada and her little flock are eatin’ outta the palm of his hand.” She says derisively. Claire stretches and leans back, offering Y/N a coy smile. “I don’t know about you, but I think Little Miss Social Butterfly should go give him a proper Newt greetin'~” Jill snickers, crossing her arms. “Yeah, go on, butterfly. Flit on over there and make an impression.” Y/N, never one to turn down a challenge, sets her beer down and nods. “Fine. Guess I’ll go have me a sweet little chat with Mr. Kennedy.” She steps off her barstool and loops her thumbs in the belt loops of her skirt as she saunters up to the dirty, blonde haired stranger. He’s quite the looker. Hair tucked away under a whiskey colored, cowboy hat, warm, inviting cerulean eyes that observe and captivate simultaneously. He wears a light blue work shirt that has the first couple of buttons, undone–leaving little of his muscled chest up to one’s imagination. He’s clean-shaven and his smile is charming, even though it’s not directed at her at the moment. 

Y/N rocks up to the high top inhabited by Ada and her posse. She tips her hat in greeting. “Ada. Ladies. Heard y’all were givin’ our new friend here a proper Newt greetin’.” Ada offers Y/N a lazy smirk and crosses her arms. “What, that a crime now? Talkin’ to a man before you, Y/N?” She teases as she gives the other woman a once over. Eventually, she relaxes and gestures from Y/N to Leon.  “Leon Kennedy, meet Y/N L/N—Newt’s very own social butterfly. She’s friends with everyone, and everyone’s friends with her.” Leon chuckles and tips his hat in Y/N's direction. “Well it’s mighty fine to meet you, Miss L/N. Reckon I’ve heard your name floatin’ ‘round town since I got here. My aunt’s mentioned you once or twice—nothin’ but kind words, o’ course.” “Well, I would sure hope so.” Y/N says with a pearly grin. Ada raises her chin at Y/N and speaks. “We’re movin’ on to the next bar. Don’t reckon you’d mind keepin’ Mr. Kennedy company, would ya, Y/N?” She shakes her head. “Not one bit. More than happy to.” With that, Ada nods and turns on her heel leaving the bar with her group in tow. 

Y/N waves to the bartender and turns her attention back to Leon. “So Kennedy… Tell me, what brings ya all the way out here to Newt?” He braces his forearms against the high-top and glances at her from under his hat. “Same thing that brings most folks out here, I ‘spose. Needed a little peace n’ quiet. Change of scenery.” He says vaguely, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. Those big blue eyes seem to draw her in as he lowers his voice, as if sharing a secret. “And, well… I got kin here. Family I ain’t seen in a long, long time.” He smirks as he leans back resting on the back half of his forearms. Y/N's eyebrows quirk at that and she takes a sip of the beer that’s handed over her shoulder to her. “So, you are related to the Kennedys.” She pauses, then tips her head. “How’s that, exactly?” Leon clicks his tongue, smirking as he swirls his whiskey. “Ah, ah, ah. My turn for a question.” He leans in, blue eyes dancing with mischief. “If you’re willin’ to play the game, that is…” He hides his smirk behind a sip of his whiskey. Y/N just offers him an arrogant smirk “I ain’t never one to back down from a challenge.” Leon chuckles at that and nods. “Yeah, you seem like the type...” 

He balances his glass on the rim as he rolls it around on the table, his gaze flicks from the glass up to Y/N and he offers her a lopsided smile as he speaks, his southern drawl melting in her ears. “... Tell me, Darlin’... What exactly is your role in this town? Surely you ain’t just a worker millin’ about… No, no. There’s gotta be more to you almost like… You’re a queen b-” 

“Social Butterfly’s the term we like to use,” Y/N cuts in quickly. “Don’t much care for what comes along with bein’ called a Queen Bee, so I prefer Butterfly.”

Leon watches Y/N with a slow, knowing smirk, rolling his whiskey glass between his fingers. “... Alright. I’ll respect it.” He muses and allows silence to fall over the two of them before he speaks again. His voice is warm, playful even, but there’s an unmistakable weight behind his words.

“You know, Miss L/N,” he drawls, tilting his hat back just a touch. “Folks around here love to talk about my kin like we’re somethin’ out of a ghost story. And maybe we are.” His grin widens, all teeth, like a wolf playing with its food. “But I reckon most of ‘em are just too yellow-bellied to find out the truth for themselves.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips quirking. “That so?”

Leon nods, gaze steady. “Mhm. All those whispers about not steppin’ foot past our fence after sundown? Sounds an awful lot like superstition to me. But I get it. Not everybody’s got the spine to test their fears.”

Y/N scoffs, feigning disinterest as she takes a long pull from her beer. But he sees the flicker of pride in her eyes. She’s listening. Leon leans in, voice dropping to a smooth murmur. “Now, I ain’t the kind to believe in all that nonsense myself… but if you really wanna make a statement, if you really wanna prove to Newt that the Kennedys are just like everybody else…” He lets the sentence hang, waiting.

Y/N exhales a laugh, shaking her head. “What, You want me to waltz up to that old ranch and come back alive just to make a point?”

Leon grins, eyes gleaming beneath the low bar light. “Somethin’ like that.” He straightens, stretching his arms over his head, the movement making his work shirt pull against the lines of his chest. “Or maybe you’re not as brave as you let on.”

Y/N's smirk falters, just for a second, but it’s all Leon needs.

“I’m plenty brave,” she sneers, standing taller.

Leon shrugs. “Then prove it.”

The silence that follows is thick, the weight of the challenge pressing between them. Around them, the bar is still lively, music humming through the walls, but for Y/N, everything feels like it’s shifted.

Outside, the night has settled deep. The Kennedy ranch sits somewhere in that darkness, waiting.

And Leon?

Leon just watches her, his smile easy. 

Patient. 

Sharp. 

The smile of a man who already knows the outcome of this… little wager.

~~~

Texas Chainsaw Massacre AU Tag List:

Masterlist

[mayuupi]

"Playful land with Ace"

⋆˙⟡ — Ace x MC/User!! I'm sorry if there's any mistake it's my first fanfiction! Fluff/romance (?)

Any decisions made by him ended up with a backup plan, but you couldn't refuse something from your dear 'friend"...right?? He will forces you into it anyway!

Yuu should have known better than to follow Ace.

Both of y'all were staring at the "Whale Escape" from Playful Land,,a ride that Ernesto/Fellow recommended to you! How bad could it be??

Ace then turned around with that familiar smirk—eyes gleaming with excitement

-"Hey let's do this one..-"

He then noticed your slight discomfort, it didn't stop him from being a jerk.

-"Is the prefect scareddd?? I knew it!"

-"i'm not!"

You denied, pouting, well he couldn't see you like that, you were strong of course! Not a scaredy cat...i guess.

-"Well come on then!"

-"Wait-" before you could even speak Ace grabbed you by your wrist—

-"Bet it's gonna be awesome, by the way please don't puke" He teased with a massive grin

- "If i do i'll make sure it's on you" You retorted with a small frown,, your cheeks going slightly red from embarrassment

As you got closer the ride looked even scarier! You heard people screaming while waiting in line...too late to back out now Ace already took you in! You were about to speak when Ace interupted you—

-"No take-backs!, Prefect" he smirked, completely unbothered

-"You'll be fine! What's the worst that could happen??" The troublemaker chuckled;

You let out a nervous laugh while gripping the safety bar so tightly your knuckles turned white -"Yeah what *could* happen..."

Suddenly the cart was moving

-"Oh Seven.."

Your soul then left your body as the cart *dropped*—You were screaming so loudly—a scream that you would deny later

You then grabbed onto the first thing within your reach

Wich happened to be Ace

You latched onto him, burying your face in his shoulder—

-"Uwah?! What are you doing!!" Ace yelped, he got startled as you were holding for your dear life..

-"*pfft-* what's that scream!!" Of course he's laughing you

You got red,, you were so ashamed, you just wanted the ground to swallow you up!!

-"I hate this *so* much!!" You were almost sobbing to that point

-"Well you did agree!" He said—rolling his eyes not noticing your tears stained eyes yet.

And you did not answer back...too busy on praying to every deity in Twisted Wonderland to not die!!

Eventually—The ride came to an end but you were still holding onto him

-"hey, it's over you know...you can let go" he looked away slightly flustered,, you were so close.

You slowly lifted your head up; tears still visible

-"Wait are you crying"

-"Don't mention it!-"

Suddenly he grabbed your face, he lifted your chin up, looking at you with a serious expression

You didn't expect him to wipe your tears with his thumb—He was so gentle?

-"I'm sorry, i didn't mean to....make you cry i guess..." He looked away, face all red—

Your heart flutter, your eyes softening.

-"it's fine idiot" you chuckled a bit

-"Hey i'm not an idiot! By the way you almost broke my ribs, you owe me something from the park!"

-"yeah yeah..."

You grabbed his hand, fingers intertwined

-"Also you are an idiot! But my idiot"

You then grabbed his face and gave him a small kiss on the cheek—it made Ace heart go crazy! You laughed a bit

-"W-wathever!!" He proceeded to hold your hand a bit tighter, still recovering from the sweet kiss you just gave

"Let's just go..."

[angrygirlromero]

SHOOTERS SHOOT

(feat. Charlie Bushnell x fem¡oc)

@angrygirlhayek Following

@cbushnell15 come home the kids miss you 😣

11:31 p.m 19/03/25 105.5k views

💬 111k 🔁 50k ❤️150.3k

@malachiDiBarton

noooo baby don’t do this to me 😭😭😭

@AryanSimhadri

brooo that’s crazy time to man up ig @cbushnell14

@cbushnell15

I guess dreams really do come true 😳😳😳

@elianamarkella

I thought you were joking about posting it to twitter 😭😭😭

@user1078

HUHH?? WHO TF IS CHARLIE BUSHNELL?!!!

@likemyballs69

there’s no way bro puller Alejandra Hayek

@crasybitsh101

Nepo baby much? 🙄

-

dior

guyss have you seen twitter?

aryan

Charlie literally manifested her

wtf

He was crying like two days ago to a tik tok she posted

Cause he said she’ll never know him

Are we in some type of fairytale I don’t know about???

walker

What’s twitter? I don’t know that app

I only know x 😉

dior

Stfu

If u don’t have anything relevant to say, just sush

charlieeee why aren’t you relying

leah

He’s probably still in shock

Or possibly crashing out rn

charlie

…

dior

use your words dummy

Charlie

W T F

HOW DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHO I AM?

WDF DO U MEAN THE KIDS MISS ME I NEVER LEFT!!!!!

OMFFFGGGG

aryan

there it is

Leah

Oh lord…

dior

Deep breaths

Charlie

wtf do I say after something like that??

dior

Dm her? Ask for her number

Charlie

She doesn’t even follow me

wait

Aryan

What?

Charlie

SHE JUST FOLLOWED ME

On insta and tik tok

Omg omg

my repost are like 90% edits of her she’s gonna think I’m a fucking weirdo 😭😭😭

dior

HAHAHA

Charlie

tf u mean haha?

HELP ME

Aryan

just calm down bro I’m sure it can’t be that bad

Leah

Trust me it’s bad, level 100% obsessed with the poor girl

How does she even know you?

walker

I have something relevant to say

Leah

What is it?

walker

It was me.

Dior

What do u mean it was you? Huh?

Leah

???

Aryan

???

Charlie

???

Walker

I met her yesterday in nyc, she was very nice btw she invited me for doughnuts, anyways I asked if she had seen Percy Jackson

Which btw she had

And she mentioned that Luke Castellan was the best thing to every happen to Disney

So I told her that Charlie is obsessed with her work

Charlie

Idk if I should thank you or kill you

Walker

What? I’m literally the best wing man every tf u mean kill me?

Leah

Language

Walker

Sorry 😔

Aryan

I was not expecting that

dior

Me either, I though those fotos of u with a girl in nyc were edited

I didn’t know it was her

Why didn’t you tell us?

Walker

You never asked

🤷🏼

Charlie

this mf

-

Charlie Bushnell sat in absolute shock on the bench of his local gym, mouth gaped fist clenched and heart bounding, as he stared at the notificación on his Home Screen from tik tok @alehayek mentioned you in their video. The nervous boy took a deep breath before clicking on the notification it soon leading him into the app where the logo appeared before the app loaded the video.

On the screen appeared a short tik tok video, there she was Alejandra Hayek on the beach in god knows which part of Mexico, she lounged lazily on a beach chair with pretty doe eyes staring into the camper lens from behind her think sun classes, she laid beautifully displaying the setting of the beach infront of her with the sun set. Her tanned skin and glossy lips smiled at him, god he could die a happy man just simply looking at her.

Soon enough the tik tok audio rang throughout the empty gym, “like my **** tall and brown, and mixed with a little bit of ugly” she lip synced, with a cute smile allowing the dimples in her cheeks to form, as her hand moved forward for form the gun motion “uh, uh-huh, they say shooters shoot” she smiled while tilting her head, long wavy hair falling into her face slightly, “uh, uh-huh, @CharlieBushnell, what’s up with you?”

In that moment Charlie couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot, his face was red, his cheeks hurt, his heart raced and his palms were sweating, he shook his head in his flustered state before liking the video, adding it to his favorites and reposting it. He rewatched the video once more before opening the comments.

-

Dior Goodjohn • following

@charliebushnell where you at my guy come get your girl

McKenna grace • following

That’s crazyyy

Aryansimhadri • following

get your man girl

Walker scobell • following

This was my doing btw

Liked by creator ❤️

Malachi Barton •following

😔😔😔

Eliana Kalogeras • following

Yeah Bushnell what is up with you and my girl? 🤨

🎀Piper Rochelle🎀 • following

ITTT COUPLEEEE

Vinnie • following

🤨🤨🤨

Alex Warren • following

Can I preform at the wedding??!!

replied by creator

omg yessss!! (If there is a wedding 🫢)

Charlie Bushnell • following

Well it appears I’ve been shot, right in the heart

Liked by creator ❤️

-

a/n: thank you for reading! Sorry for any grammar mistakes you may have encountered English isn't my strongest language, hope you enjoyed. This is one hundred percent inspired on a tik tok I saw the other day!

PLEASE READ!!!

It has come to my attention that many people seem to get disappointed after realizing that my stories are x femjoc, I'm so sorry for the confusion. I'm not very good at writing my character without much details or descriptions, so I find it much more difficult to write x reader fics as much as l'd like to. As for my tags please don't come for me but as some tumblr users probably already know the algorithm here isn't the best and I have to put as much tags associated with my fic as possible for it to get put on the right fandom's fyp, if you'd like me to formally remove or change anything just let me know, I write strictly for fun and entertainment of other I'm just trying to share my hobby

(IF U HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS FICS DON'T BE AFRIAD TO COMMENT YOUR QUESTIONS, AND IF YOU'D LIKE TO SEE MORE OF THIS DONT FORGET TO LIKE AND REPOST!!

[djcandiepaws]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ yandere! crossdresser x reader

summary: yall shower together huzzah!!1!! cw: implied noncon touching

post it notes: hiiiii!! i will have him confess sometime in the near future but so far i will just be doing random scenarios + hcs of him

You and him have returned from the beach, you guys played in the water, and built sandcastles. Unfortunately for you guys though, the sand made itself comfortable on you guys' wet skin.

"Ugh, we need to take a shower. I love the beach but man, sand sticking to me is so uncomfortable." You sigh out, but that's actually when a lightbulb went off in his head. "Ah!… So… you know my family pays the water bill, right?" He takes a few steps closer to you. You murmur out an 'uh-huh'. "And you remember when you once mentioned to me how you take pretty long baths…" You nod in response. "How about we just bathe together? ...to save money, of course!" His heart almost jumps out of his chest asking you this. It's so intimate, but y'all have been friends for a few months by this time, so it shouldn't be that weird, right?

An involuntary 'oh' comes out of you. He starts getting a bit nervous; did he make you uncomfortable? "Hey, it's not that bad!! I won't look if it's more comfortable for you." You just stare, blinking at him. "That's a strong… uhh… idea." You look taken aback. That's a very strong question to ask. Though, wouldn't it not be weird? You guys have been friends for months now, and so far he seems friendly and non-judgmental.

"Pleaseeee!! Don't you want to relieve some stress off of my parents backs by not wasting so much water? Bathing together is an easy solution!" I mean, you start to consider it. It won't be that bad, right? It's not like he's asking anything that strange... It doesn't have to be sexual. Plus, you would hate to be a burden to his family.

"Well… I guess I don't want to be a burden to your family… And nudity isn't always necessarily sexual... Fine, we'll do it!" You rub your arm nervously. "See? It'll be fine! I think of this as nothing more than a friendly gesture, I swear!" He wants to jump up and down and squeal and just freak out so bad. He can't believe he managed to persuade you into this!! He holds your hand to guide you into the bathroom and he closes the door behind you.

He begins to undress while making eye contact. "Woah, you're going to undress in front of me?" You just stand there while saying. "Like you said, all nudity isn't inherently sexual. It's just how you perceive it." He holds your hand. "Also, I trust you. Anyways, your turn!"

Though reluctant, you agreed and started to undress.

Soon you're done undressing; you're both just standing there, naked, and stuck waiting for the bath water to fill the tub.

It was so awkward. Your eyes averted his gaze and body, trying to be respectful.

Once the bath was done you both got in. It was a bit awkward, being naked in front of him like that. You must admit the silent atmosphere lulled you to sleep halfway. You're not really sure what happened during that time but you do faintly remember feeling sudden touches all over your body. You never really asked him what happened because you feel a bit scared to bring it up, plus you would hate to ruin your only friendship in this new town you're in.

There is already rumors at school that say nasty, yet untrue things about you. If you ruin this friendship you'll be completely alone.

When you sleep over usually y'all watch a movie and then say goodnight after, but that night things felt different. That night you guys went to sleep without saying anything to each other.