#<- 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

[sheepispink]

guess who’s back ;)

puppy hybrid! rookie reader x lt ghost, where you're considered a failure by your instructors and of course when one of them falls sick, the responsibility of training you lands on him

aka this is my apology for making so many of you cry.

cw: hurt/comfort, fluff, tf141 at the end :)

-----------

To be a hybrid handler was possibly one of the best qualifications a soldier could have, especially with the new rise in hybrid cross-breeds across the world’s military. Ghost had one, took the course when no one wanted to go near it, and now he was only one of the few fits on base to have one. So naturally, when one of the hybrids’ usual instructors had to take a sick leave, he was pressured to step in. The other hybrids had set schedules for their sessions but since you were from the facilities, you needed extra support; well, actually all your extra academic classes meant you didn't have the regular timetable. That’s where he stepped in, taking over the ill instructor’s sessions and training you privately.

That wasn't the issue though, no, it was your file; it was awful. Angry comments about being stubborn, large red crosses next to exercises and well, your behaviour report wasn’t exactly bright either—you just never seemed to get anything right. There weren't any specific notes as to why you failed, usually just a quick scribble mentioning the many mistakes you made. So, it was safe to say he was dreading having to train you himself. He was used to pre-trained hybrids, or at least ones with their head on their shoulders. In fact, he was surprised you’re even still here, but maybe they just thought they’d dump you on him to deal with for the few weeks.

“Um…. Stay back?” You question, your head tilted to the side and ears perking as you try your best to remember what field signal he just did. He stifles a sigh—another one wrong—but it’d only be worse to give up now, so instead he opts for a different approach. “What signals do you know?” 

You were terrified of him, that much was clear, but he felt a little reluctant to give you the same stern treatment as every other rookie. After all, you were bought from the facilities, and before that you would’ve been taken from your family at a relatively young age. That doesn't mean he’ll be lenient though, just a little more patient than most officers around here.

“Well.. Move forward, enemies ahead, don't move, and follow me. I know there’s more but not the signals..” Your ears flatten on your head, expecting some kind of blow, but his eyes just narrow behind the mask, looking back at the training mats in the corner of the room.

The next forty minutes he displays each sign back to you, making you repeat them back to him before ending that exercise. Only then does he gesture you to the training mats, seeing what you know in terms of defence and attack, but even that is weak, your form sloppy and reckless. There’s only ten minutes left of the session, so he seats you again, standing before you as he tests a signal.

“Uh…. Stay close?” He nods, affirming you’re correct and you perk up instantly, watching his signs intently as you continue to give a few more correct answers, only your ears drooping when you get a few more wrong. He corrects you each time, making sure you’re aware before testing you with another. At the end, he passes you a sheet from his bag, the signals printed on it. “Learn these by tomorrow.” And then he’s gone, disappeared out of the room while you’re left alone staring at the paper before you.

The next day you’re in the room early, like you had been yesterday as well; weirdly enough, you were surprisingly punctual, but he didn't have the time to question that. “Alright, ready for your test?”

He’s slightly sceptical when you actually get them all correct, save for a few, since it’s surprising progress with your track record. Plus, your form is improving too, especially when he corrects it as you go along; you manage to remember when he makes you do it again. He can’t even deny he likes the way your tail wags every single time he nods in approval.

So why was your file so bad? If you really were a failure, you would barely be improving but here you are at a steady pace. He supposes that compared to the others you’re probably at least two weeks behind in the exercises. Ideally he’d just catch you up to speed and call it a day. However, his current concern lies on why you haven't improved if you were brought here a month ago. Sure, maybe the future exercises were a lot more difficult than the basic hand signals, but something seems a little… off.

His next session with you is three days from now, so he can't just straight up ask you, especially with your current skittish behaviour regarding him. For now, he’d have to investigate himself. The best source of information is your other class and the easiest way to get that is via some cameras. It’s technically not a violation of privacy, considering there are plenty of cameras around base and the training rooms should have them anyway. The instructor can just consider it a surprise upgrade; if he even notices the change that is. 

Ghost watches as you walk in first, settling in the front corner—- perhaps the instructor does give you the extra help you need then? The other hybrids come a few moments later and then the instructor arrives right on time. “Alright, warm-ups.” He orders, and you all get to work, with you trying to copy what the other hybrids do to the best of your ability. They’re a lot stronger than you, that much is obvious, and most are some form of a dog or wolf hybrid as well—considering they’ve been proven to work well in military situations. They stretch their limbs out as you turn around and imitate the same, all of you strangely quiet, but Ghost supposes that’s just maintaining focus. The officer cuts the warm up after a few minutes, beginning his first session in ‘taking advantage’ of blind spots whilst also keeping an eye on your own. He gets one of the soldiers to come upfront and help demonstrate all while you watch, then he gestures towards the targets at the back of the room, offering you all to try it out before you go against each other.

Ghost is almost considering just turning off the cameras at this point, wondering if he should go grab lunch and then rewatch it in his spare time— or maybe he should just ditch this after all, you were just a hybrid anyway. 

You’ve gone up now, and he watches, but something’s not right as you get into position. Since you’re not that skilled in fighting just yet, your offensive posture isn’t the greatest and that’s visible to any eye, especially the instructor. He motions to the opposing hybrid to fix his, before walking around and motioning to begin. Of course, you fail, getting toppled over almost instantly if not for Ghost’s work on defensive moves. You’re pushed down against the mat, head turned forcefully against the floor, the hybrid’s hand’s on your throat almost a little too aggressively until a signal is given to stop.

The instructor only scoffs, pulling the other hybrid up and leaving you gasping for air. “I knew you’d fall over like that, your posture was awful.”

This becomes a pattern throughout the rest of the exercises, your wrong choices and how the instructor barely says a word until after the incident. But why? Ghost doesn't understand—if he knew it would happen, why wouldn’t he just at least correct you beforehand?

———

Your eyes flicker toward the others pouncing on a target, watching with intrigue how they position their feet and their arms. “Stop staring, creep!” One of the large hybrid taunts behind you, grabbing you by the neck of your shirt and shoving you back down to the floor. 

It’s becoming harder and harder to stay motivated at this point, especially with how much your back is hurting from being overpowered all week. At least the other hybrids didn't laugh this time, though you wonder if that’s really a good thing since it was only due to the fact everyone expects your incompetence now. Like a reused joke, you’re becoming a boring topic. That can only mean you’re closer to being returned to the facility again which is never a good thing. No one wants a used item.

The thought scares you into motivation; you stand, smoothening the ruffled fur of your tail with one hand before stepping up to one of the targets. You have to try; it’s the best thing you can do even if your feet are starting to ache terribly. Swallowing down your anxiety, you try to remember how their stance was. It was going well until you ended up banging your shoulder against the wood rather than pushing it down. You tumble down with a groan, landing right in front of your instructor. 

“Do you have two left feet or something? Your balance was completely off the entire time— anyone could see that.” He rolls his eyes up at you, watching as you rub your shoulder in clear pain. Your lips twist into a deep frown, confused to say the least, and you finally look up at him. “Why didn't you correct me beforehand?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t listen anyway; you never do.” He scoffs in response, annoyed that you even tried to talk back, before stepping away to fix another hybrid's posture. You don't know why you even bothered to ask; it would always be the same response. They all saw you fail, and yet they never made an effort to even try to help, like you weren’t even worth spending energy on. From the first day you were marked as the runt, even if you really weren’t in the slightest.

_________

“You’re failing all the exercises.” Ghost drops the file before you, letting you see all the red crosses against each lesson. He reminds himself that this is for a good cause when your face instantly drops, used to his praise for good progress. It was the only thing you looked forward to anymore, having long given up on the dream that you’d prove your instructor wrong by doing an exercise perfectly. It’d never happen. The thing is, he can help you, but you won't catch up anywhere near to the others on your current schedule; he just needs to push you to want more, to need more, and he’ll fulfil that for you. 

“I- I'm trying, I promise. I just- it’s not my fault—” You fumble with your words, convinced he’s giving up on you. He can see the bandages littering your hands, the wince when you try to move suddenly.

“It’s not enough.” His voice is stern, yet still he knows it’s the calmest you’d get in this new life you’ve been forced into. You have no choice now but to move forward, and he’d be damned if his own student ended up a failure. “You need to train harder and—”

“I’ll do that! We can start now, actually whenever you want. Please, Ghost— I’ll work as hard as I possibly can!” 

Oh. 

He thought it’d be harder than that.

You’ve stepped so close he’s almost positive you were going to grab his shirt and beg him for a second. Your tail swishes from side to side too, ears perked high on your head and your hands clasped together. Is he going crazy or did you just give him puppy dog eyes?  

“I’m supposed to be convincing you, idiot.”

 “Huh?”

“.. Nevermind.” He rolls his eyes up at you and shakes his head; well at least he didn’t have to start pointing out the incentives of working harder to you. Though he doubts you’ll be able to handle his intensive training program; at least you’re trying to start.

“So will you train me then?” 

“Yeah, yeah Pup. But I don't think you realise how tough it’s gonna be.” His arms cross firmly over his chest, looking down at you with narrowed eyes. “I want you up early at five am and do warm ups straight after breakfast. None of these bandages either, that’ll ruin your performance. You think you can do that?” He leans in, almost threatening but despite your initial stance towards him, you don't even flinch. “Yes sir!” 

You’re just excited that someone’s finally taking a chance on you.

—-

So, for the next week, you get up early every day, wait for him in the gym before beginning your two-hour training session. He has his own priorities during that time so you’re left with “homework”, as he likes to describe it, which is usually a bunch of tactical knowledge you have to learn. Sometimes it’s what to do in certain situations, other times it’s medical knowledge, hell he even made you disassemble and reassemble a gun once. That last one didn't work out too well since you accidentally swept a few screws away with your tail. Oops

It wasn’t for nothing though. You steadily began to improve; just his corrections had you catching up quickly and putting up a fair fight against the rookie he set up to spar with you. In fact, your sessions with the other instructor have been going well, even managing to beat a few hybrids there when you only had hoped to put up enough of a fight. If he was being really honest, you had actually shocked him at how strong you held up the entire week of intense training. You may be seen as a failure to your officer, but to him, you were nothing short of a real soldier.

Finally, it’s Friday, marking the end of all this training that he’s had you doing. It’s almost dinner, though you ate plenty for lunch anyway, and you both stand in the empty room, a few props littering the room. He wanted to have a look at your pouncing technique, since those attacks worked best for a hybrid like you, and your strong teeth do have a good advantage. The methods are a little feral, but hey, you technically are part animal.

“And.. Go!” He signals, and you lunge forward, grabbing at the fake man and digging your teeth through the side of his neck. You rip through the first layer with ease, legs locked around the dummy’s middle and claws sharp into the arms. “That’s it!” He calls it off after he watches, the time slowly ticking towards seven pm. You climb off, and he nods in approval, walking forward to offer you a hand which you take with another tail wag. “Good work. That’s all for this week.” He helps you shrug off the gear, tucking it under his arm as you take a seat at the nearby bench.

 There are only a few minutes till dinner, and you’re usually starving by this time so he decides to clear up the equipment today, placing it down into the small storage cupboard and packing it in its respective spots. 7pm. Only took him about seven minutes to clear the room up which has to be a new record by now.

Closing the closet door behind him, he pulls out his phone, ready to lay back for the day. He’s about to open the door when he hears a quiet noise, then another, followed by a soft thud. Confused, he looks back, surprised to find you slumped on the bench as you snore quietly, your arms hanging off the side as your tail hangs limply off the edge. You’re completely knocked out.

“Pup?” His boots echo against the hardwood floor, but you still remain asleep, cheek smushed into the bench as he crouches before you. A small smile creases the edge of his mask, a fond sigh leaving his lips. “Alright, let’s get you to bed.” He scoops you up easily, carrying you through the quieter corridors to your room, and gently settling you to sleep comfortably for the remainder of the night. You deserved it.

——

Your other instructor returned that Monday, and Ghost was removed from his responsibility for you. Whilst he was glad you had improved, he was just relieved to have his old life back, ready to focus on the 141 as it should have always been. “Ghost! I did it! I did it!!” You squeal, running up to him whilst he’s mid-workout, showing him the sheet that confirms your status as a proper soldier now. You’re brimming with joy, and he’s happy for you, one hand ruffling your hair. “Knew you could do it.”

And that was that. You got your job, he completed his temporary work. 

That’s what he assumed anyway..

“Ghost? Can you check my form?” He allowed it the first time, leaving his weights to correct you before continuing his workout again.

“Ghost— can you teach me how to play this?” It was a simple game of cards and your first pub outing after a long mission. Besides, the others were busy puking their guts out.

“Hi Ghost! Can I sit here?” Well, Soap and Gaz were on a mission anyway; it’s not like he would be having breakfast with anyone else. Maybe your friends were out of base too?

“Ghost..” Sleepy eyes stare up at him as you lazily stretch beside him, Soap on his right and Gaz on your left. The movie has only just started, and you’re already giving him that expectant look. “Fine, fine.” He clicks the recliner on the side of the couch, lifting his legs to lay flat and allow you to stretch yours too. 

“Ghost..” You mumble out again, and he chuckles, the movie not even halfway through, and he’s got you melting into the cushions just from his hands scratching the back of your fluffy ears. They twitch every now and then, reminding him that you’re still awake somehow.

“Pup down.” Soap whispers, and he nods in turn, looking at the bundle of fur laying over him, your thick tail trapping his legs like some sort of weighted blanket. His hand runs through the soft strands, content as the credits roll and your chest rises and falls slowly. Somehow, you had managed to manoeuvre yourself with your face squashed against his legs and your fingers clutching the fabric of his sweatpants, the 141’s symbol engraved in the cold metal hanging around your neck. Of course, they’d all tease you about it tomorrow during your outing down to the beach. That’s how it works, of course;  wherever your handler goes, you follow.

--------------

COD MASTERLIST

a/n: thank you all so much for 1000 followers! just a little psa that i probably wont be too active in the next two weeks. tumblr used to be my safe space and i used to be so excited to come on and scroll thru my dash for some good fics but i just feel so empty with it :(. i havent lost my passion for writing dont get me wrong, and i'm still very happy to chat with moots, just the whole aspect of tumblr is so exhausting for me along with other things in my life atm

anyway rant over thanks for reading bye bye

@mortem-writes @pythonmoth

buy me a ko-fi :)

[queen-mihai]

Holy mackerel, I did not think people were still into this post

Today's update is a huge one.

Literally my life has made several gigantic swings. My goodness yall strap in cuz we're going for a ride.

I have a polycule now. I'm not sure when the last actual update was, but I've been doing a bit of online dating ever since...idk maybe for about a year now

I have known I was polyamorous since before I started this blog. But I never knew my love life would or even could go as deep as it has

As... as of right now I have a dozen people who I call my partners and probably more than two dozen in a giant poly cluster in varying states somewhere between friendship and "we could not imagine our lives without each other and we've changed each other for the better but technically we're not dating cuz life is complicated but it's cool cuz we're happy and anyway we love each other"

Multiple people have literally altered their entire life plan as a result of meeting me

I... how is that even.... like that's so easy for me to say and so obviously true that I can't not mention it in a big life update like this.... but it also seems insane to say!!! Changed lives? With an s? Multiple lives? And these are people all over the world! The implications! Friggin' army of hot queers! I love yall so much!

🥹

So.. what else.. money...I still need to finish making the master-post for "The Master's Quest: Meet Annabella"

I really need to sell that book more, along with finishing and publishing the second book of the series. I really need to make my own way in the world. I've got to actually make it as an author because there's a LOT riding on me continuing to have the ability to care for people close to me

I've moved. I have a nice new apartment that's bigger than the house I used to have

At least one of my partners wants to move in with me and we're making arrangements to make that work for everyone.

I have a discord server that I'm looking at taking public so that yall can get to know me better... and so that we can build a lovely community that works as well as my private friend group. I'm really good at running these communities, so it should be really good. I just need to make sure I have moderation in place so that it doesn't disrupt my entire life

I've gotten really good at making soul food, and I realized I'm the matriarch of my own online family... meaning I'm closer to becoming "Big Mama" than I ever thought I'd be at this age

Like

I'm the Big Mama of my internet family... that's huge

Oh and I've started gaming again! I play a lot of Warframe and Baldurs Gate 3 at the moment! It's so fun!

Also I stream on Twitch! Come hang out with me while I play Warframe! I'm probably gonna start playing every other Thursday thanks to my not-quite-a-partner

There's been a lot of stupid stuff too. My doctor hasn't updated my sick leave. I met a girl locally who I thought was cool, only for her to trap me in a looping conversation for a day and a half and treat me like crap when I tried to leave, and lots of people misunderstanding my intentions on so many things

But honestly forget all that

Because my life has improved SO FREAKING MUCH

And continues to get better and better and better

I've never felt so loved in my entire life

Yall feel free to follow @rikkibelle6 @jadethebunny @bwrtrain113 @silentrhow @icyravensflint I love yall so much

I guess I'll see yall in a few months and we'll see where we are then 🥰💝

You know the great thing about my Tumblr?

I'm invisible. Nobody sees me. I'm essentially talking to the void. This will get no notes.

Watch this:

I'm trans. I'm a girl and I'm SUPER bisexual. I like everybody. Girls are hot. Guys are hot. NBs are hot. Trans people are hot. I like to dress and act and be really super girly and I love flirting with people. It doesn't matter cuz this will get zero notes just like everything else I post on here.

Screw it. I'm not even done

This is me. A black trans bisexual.

I wrote an Ace/Aro person into my book. A trans person too. And one of the guys is gay. He literally has a big flirting scene with a guy in the book. It's pretty strongly suggested that they banged. As the author I can tell you; they did. It's the only sex scene even hinted at in the book and it's gay af.

Wanna know a secret? I think I've been in bed with a famous person. It's so crazy because I'm so terrible at famous people there's no way I'd have known who he was unless he straight up told me. But I did get the inkling he was somebody important by him talking about his soho apartment in New York. And the fact that he was staying in one of the nicest and most expensive hotels in Houston at the time.

And yes,bbtw. I was not aware of my being trans yet. And he was a man. This was a gay interaction. A very gay interaction. I'm bi. But you don't care cuz you're not even reading this.

Anyway yeah I love Tumblr. Nobody notices me

[katherinakaina]

It's interesting how important mechanics are for a game. Way more important than the plot and the text apparently. Just an announcement of a mechanic makes people say 'they gave my boy this, they gave my boy that'. What do you mean 'gave'? It was always in the text.

Daniil was politically persecuted for years before he came to the town. He is on the verge of a mental breakdown on day one. He talks about suicide on day one. And then he has to go through the torture chamber of the plot designed on purpose to fuck him up. And he doesn't even have reliable material support in p1.

In p3 he'll at least have his stomach filled and some people under his direct command. Not to mention a player who can keep his sanity in check. He had it so much worse in p1 and so few people cared just because it was all in the text and not in the mechanics.

I'd say it's because people just pay less attention to text in games but they sure as hell payed attention every time Daniil snapped at someone even a little bit.

Whatever it takes, I guess. Here for the fandom realizing they were demonizing a mentally ill person for 20 years.

[fuctacles]

ST events tumblr community

<< fifteen | 😺 | seventeen >>

When Steph's body heat leaves his lap, Eddie can suddenly feel how unpleasant his underwear has became. He picks at the fabric around his thighs, inspecting damage, and is grateful that he hasn't through soaked to his sweatpants. Yet. 

"Do you need something to change into? You can take a shower, too," Steph offers, looking him over without shame while she's adjusting her hair. 

Eddie manages a glance in her direction. On one hand, he lives in the same building, but on another, he'd prefer to be as inconspicuous as possible. 

"I think Wayne would be suspicious if I took a shower here," he huffs after a quick calculation.

"Oh. Is he... not supposed to know?" she asks, frowning but not looking at him. Eddie frowns right back. 

"Uh, no. I just don't want to hear any more teasing from him. He's been very, uh... supportive of the idea."

"Really?" 

"Yeah, he's been pushing me to make a move from the start. Actually..." He hums, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Do you think he offered my help with the cats on purpose?" 

She lets out a surprised laugh. 

"Maybe. Like an evil mastermind!"

"And he's been planting seeds all along! Talking about you all the time!" 

Steph makes a phone sign with her fingers and lowers her voice. "Son, there's this nice lady in my complex, great hair, totally single. Anyway, how is school?"

They laugh at that, though the idea isn't completely implausible. 

"Well, I have the parent's blessing for once, I guess," she chuckles wistfully. "For now, at least."

"What, you think he'd change his mind?" Eddie asks, for a moment ignoring the mess around his dick to turn towards her. 

"A lot of people do." Steph shrugs, like it's not a huge deal. 

"You mean because you're trans?" Eddie's brows furrow further. "I don't think he cares. Well, he does, but in a protective way."

"He knows?" Her eyes go wide and she tenses up, so Eddie quickly puts a hand on her arm to placate her. 

"Or he has a strong suspicion! He's been very ominous about it, but if he's been to your place and saw the same photos I did, well..." He rubs his thumb over her elbow. "And you two talk a lot. Wayne might not share much himself, but he's a good listener. He's good at picking up stuff."

Steph breathes deeply. 

"And you think he's fine with that?" she looks for confirmation.

They might have not talked about it, but Eddie knows his uncle quite well, and the way he spoke of his favorite neighbor was always genuine and friendly. 

"Yes," he says with conviction. "His biggest worry seems to be how the world has been treating you." 

She doesn't say anything, just seeks out his hand as she turns away, hair falling over her eyes so he wouldn't see the emotions in them. 

"Your uncle is a treasure," she says, gripping his hand for comfort. He'd love to offer her a hug instead, but he'd prefer to do it a little more cleaned up. 

"Yeah, I got lucky with him," he agrees, squeezing her hand back. "Now, uh, sorry to kill the moment, but you've mentioned I could borrow something to wear? Like clean underwear, perhaps?" He smiles hopefully, batting his eyelashes at her. 

She shakes her head with a smile.

"Sure. Let's go." She pulls him up by their joined hands, and when she doesn't let go and guides him towards her room, his stomach swoops. It's been a while since a girl led him to her bedroom like that.

He's instructed to close his eyes as she rummages through the panty drawer, looking for something suitable. 

"I hope you don't mind the color. These are relatively new, since I only wear boxers on lazy or bad days."

Sensing she's in front of him now, Eddie opens his eyes and is presented with a light pink tartan fabric. He chuckles. 

"Pink is the new black, right?" he says as he takes the boxers. "Want to use the bathroom first?" he asks, since he's a gentleman and a guest in Steph's home.

She shakes her head. 

"I'm good, don't worry about it."

Eddie frowns.

"Are you sure? I can—"

"Eddie," she interrupts him and he immediately closes his mouth. Steph's looking to his left and her cheeks are tinged pink so he turns up his ears to maximum hearing. "I don't... come like that anymore. My body doesn't produce it anymore, sometimes I won't even get it fully hard. A lot of things are... different," she makes a face as she confesses. Again, like it's a bad thing. 

"Well, I'm excited to learn. Especially after today."

He wiggles his eyebrows as she looks at him again, and she huffs in amusement, pushing him out of the bedroom.  

"Go clean up, you dork."

Once his dick is clean and his boxers are all wet from washing them in the sink, Eddie inspects his ass. The mirror is big enough that if he steps back, he can see all the way down to his thighs. He turns this way and that, lifts his shirt up.

"I think I'm digging the pink!" he yells through the bathroom door, before pulling his sweats back on. After putting his underwear on the radiator to dry, he walks back out to join Steph on the couch. They still have beers to finish. 

"Can I see it?" she asks before he can sit back down. 

"Huh?"

"The boxers." Her eyes shine in the glow of the TV.

"Uh, yeah." Eddie doesn't know why he's suddenly feeling this shy, after they've just climaxed on each other's laps, humping like animals. He toys with the hem of his sweats, feeling the heavy weight of Steph's gaze on his hands, before he digs his thumbs in and slides them down, the elastic catching on his soft dick. 

"It does suit you."

When he looks at her, her hungry eyes are trained on the pink boxers and his exposed thighs. 

"Turn around."

Eddie does so without question, feeling only slightly awkward as the sweats slide down to his ankles. 

"Nice ass," she compliments, and he feels his cheeks flush. It's not something he hears often.

"You don't think it's flat an pathetic?" he asks half-jokingly.

She hums thoughtfully. 

"Hm, I don't know. Bend down for me? Pull your sweats back up."

Eddie's dick twitches pathetically even though it won't be getting back up anytime soon. He bends in half, feeling exposed like never before despite wearing underwear, and slowly slides his pants back up, covering the goods. As he turns back to face her, Steph reaches out to tug him closer, hands sliding from his waist to cup his ass. 

"I think you have a nice, round handful," she smiles up at him. "It looks better in these than the jeans."

"Thank you," he says, quiet and meek like he's not used to. Maybe she could take care of him too, maybe they could take care of each other. 

"Thank you. For letting me see it," she says, smile wide. "And touch it." Her fingers dip into the meat of his ass, making his hips sway forward. She pulls him onto her lap this time and slots their mouths together, making out in the dim living room as the TV plays on in the background, forgotten. 

That night, he leaves the place later than usual, walking down the stairs of the empty building feeling like he's living outside of the narrative. Everyone else is sleeping in their own beds, and he walks from one flat to another like he can't find his place in the world. He's renting one in Indianapolis, too.

Eddie suddenly feels smaller than he's felt in a long time. Tiny in the world full of people, minuscule in the distance between Hawkins and Indy. The life he thought he's grabbed on to, seems distant and surreal. Like this little town is a black hole of time and space that he's fallen into yet again after escaping it for college. 

When he walks into the empty apartment, Wayne is snoring behind the closed doors of his bedroom. Knowing that going to bed will only bring more weird feelings, Eddie lights a cigarette on the balcony and spends an hour inside a book, reading and exploring alien worlds until his eyelids are heavier than his thoughts. 

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94 @tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman @madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore  @icecat @rootbeerandmusic @mollymawkwrites @milojames16 @ellietheasexylibrarian

ko-fi | Steddie masterpost

[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.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤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.”

-------

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@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[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

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

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@sailorflora

@six-1mpossiblethings

[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.

[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

[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 pout; 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 interwined

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

You made a small kissy sound knowing it flustered him and it made Ace go crazy! You laughed a bit

-"W-wathever!!" He proceeded to hold your hand a bit tighter.

"Let's just go..."

[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

[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

[silenzahra]

... Hello.

I'm still not too sure how to proceed here, honestly. I still feel... hurt, and very affected by what happened last Friday. I've taken the weekend off to slowly process everything and start taking the actions I felt I needed to take in order to protect my peace. It wasn't easy... but now it's done.

I won't go much into detail. My last post, as maybe some of you guessed, was caused by what we all learned about on Friday (I'm not linking that post, I don't want to see that ever again). I felt so disappointed and betrayed... Especially because this person I had started to befriend made fanart for one of my fics not long ago. I never mean to be ungrateful, but I simply can't see it the same way anymore (nor the brothers... and I hate myself so much for that). Everything's changed, at least for me.

Still, taking some time away from screens and social media this weekend has been quite helpful, as well as venting my feelings and thoughts with some friends. You all know who you are, and I'm incredibly grateful and lucky to have you all 🫂💖

With this said... I think I might be ready to start moving on. Slowly, as this wasn't easy at all, but at least it's something. I don't think I'll be too active in general, as I feel I've lost my enthusiasm and spark at the moment, but hopefully it'll come back soon. You might see me reblogging stuff, I don't know, but I'm definitely not checking my notifs at the moment. I need to take things easy.

And... I'm sorry if this comes across as rude or whatever, but at the moment I'd prefer not to be tagged on anything. Don't get me wrong, I do love the content you guys create, but at the moment I feel a bit overwhelmed with everything. I know it's far from your intention to make me feel this way but just... it is what it is. I'm afraid I can't help it, so I turned off mentions for the time being. Hope you understand 🙏🏻💖

So... this is it for now. To whoever was affected by all this: you're not alone, and my DMs are open for everyone even if I'm slow responding. I really hope we can all go back to normal together.

I love you ❤️💚

[cupsofcoffeestains]

shifting vent/potential motivation??

hey gang-

tw: minor mention of dissociation

so ive been making some positive developments in my shifting journey, and I hate to say it, but things really are starting to "click"

I always hate seeing those videos/posts from experienced shifters being like "i cant explain my mindset change, it just started to click" but now im eating my hatred and realizing what these people were talking about.

unfortunately, i do not have the words to fully explain what i mean but dw im gonna try.

For me, mindset shifts and my shifting journey advancing has kind of been like growing up, or maturing. You know how you see all those videos on tt saying "me when i wake up on a random tuesday and realize my frontal lobes are developing" etc. that (for me, at least) has kinda been similar to my shifting journey.

What this has looked like for me, as someone who has been trying to successfully make it to my dr since 2020, was being less angry with myself, with the universe, with others in the shifting community for my not shifting. It has come with time. Again, it has come with so so much time spent growing as a person, growing spiritually, and growing as a shifter. Taking breaks, learning to appreciate my reality (i know this is a privilege, to actually enjoy my life in my home reality/my cr) but learning to appreciate what is good even amongst all the bad that is and could be happening. As someone who struggled in the beginning of my journey, actively disassociating and basically working against what my body and mind actually needed.

Shifting can look different for everyone, and thats why ive decided to post about my mindset a little more. Sometimes its hard for me to find people who have spent so much time shifting and are still optimistic about their journey, so i guess this is me putting in my little shiftblr application to be that person for anyone who this might benefit.

also, just a last little note, for those of you who do not have anyone to talk to about shifting, who aren't making shifting friends online or in person, writing out about your journey on a blog like this can be so helpful. For me, I am a solo shifter (through circumstance and just the fact that I cant upkeep friendships online, only moots), and writing on this blog has helped me feel like people are hearing me (even if no one interacts with this). Just knowing my thoughts are somewhere other than my head and my private journal has made me feel less alone in my journey, and i highly encourage that if this resonated with you to try blogging. keep it anonymous if you're nervous! pretty sure none of my profile is accurate to who i am irl, and that has really helped me let stuff out about shifting.

anyways, i hope this post was helpful! much love to all my shifters, especially those of us who have been here for what feels like forever <3

[eye-of-yelough]

autistic need to clarify everything all the time i know i said pre game aeryn has the carrion feathers hairstyle but that is not true it is simply the closest i could get to it. he had the yolandi visser mullet for few years around the time he first met gortash, but a year or so pre-game he cuts it like his in-game maudlin pixie which is basically gortash’s haircut but styled different. and yes it’s intentional. i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before but it is very much intentional that their hair is similar in colour and length :3

but is it a “little sister who copies you” thing or “big brother who forcefully models you in his own image” thing?? i guess we’ll never know.