#“how do YOU see their relationship nutty?”

[nintendonut1]

He borrowed the journal from Mallow to show his Mom/Boss/Best Friend/however else y'all see their relationship

[luveline]

Hii, I absolutely love your Hotch fics in which he meets his adult daughter. Could we get one in which she is feeling down about something and he helps/reassures her?💕💕

It’s difficult to foster a relationship with someone when you don’t get to see them. Even harder when the relationship is with your father who didn’t know you existed for over two decades, and who works as a Special Agent in the FBI, spending half of his life in other states. 

Lately it feels impossible. 

He’s just never home. When he is, he can't make it to dinner. You start to feel exactly as you had before you knew him, alone again, working hard to keep up in class, drained from your part time job, and always tired. 

You should stay home and sleep, but tonight, your dad is free for dinner. 

You wait on the corner of the street in the golden light of the restaurant. It’s chilly out, and the sky is slowly darkening. You watch the road for the shape and bulk of Aaron’s SUV, relieved to see him on the way past. He parks in the parking lot, making a small stop into the trunk of the car before he makes his way toward you. 

He’s carrying a little white teddy bear wrapped in pink heart cellophane. 

You know it’s for you, but it’s still sweet enough to surprise you when he smiles at you and encourages it into your hands. “Hello,” he says, wrapping one arm around you quickly as he kisses your cheek. 

It’s always a shock, but never unwelcome. 

“Hi, Aaron.” 

“Let’s go in, yes?” he asks. “It’s too cold to stay out here. Were you waiting a long time?” 

You let him walk you to the entrance, where he gives his name to the hostess for the reservation, and together you follow her to a small table near a bay window. The trees outside are strung with tea lights. The restaurant smells like nutty chocolate ganache. You mentioned that you liked the desserts here the first time he brought you, and he’s continued to bring you here ever since. 

You are undoubtedly getting to know one another. You’ve met Haley three times, and Jack five. You had dinner together only two weeks ago where he tried to show you how to keep spaghetti on your fork while failing to manage it himself. He was sweet, and Aaron was really good with him. 

You’d been jealous. 

“What’s the bear for?” you ask. 

“I’m trying to buy your forgiveness. Is it working?” 

You laugh without thinking. “My forgiveness?” 

“Sometimes, when I don’t see Jack for a long time, he gets frosty with me. I know it’s poor parenting but I’ll bring home a souvenir in the hopes he won’t stay mad.” 

“This is a souvenir?” you ask. 

He sits with good posture, but his face is ducked apologetically. It’s a kind sort of look, like he really is sorry. “I think I owe you more than that.” 

This regret he’s expressed before. You truly believe that he wishes he could go back in time and be there for you, which might be why it aches to think about it in detail. He wanted to be the loving, doting father. He just didn’t get the chance. 

“It sort of… breaks my heart sometimes, when I see you,” you say. 

It’s a lot. You haven’t even ordered your drinks. 

“It does?” he asks gently. 

“I wish…” You bite the inside of your cheek. Shake your head when you can’t finish. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I think about it a lot. I resent your mother.” 

She’s your mother, but yes. “I do, too.” 

You listen to the clatter of the kitchen somewhere deep in the building and the indistinguishable chatter of other families and dates where they sit around you. Your hand closes tightly on a napkin. 

“Are you okay? You look tired, honey.” 

“Must be a Hotchner thing,” you say. 

He laughs like you haven’t just slighted him. “It definitely is. I’m getting the sense that you’re upset about more than your mother, though.” 

“How would you know?” you ask genuinely. 

It’s his party trick. You’re expecting a rundown: your hand moves a quarter inch to the left and shows your upset, or your nose twitches to betray your true feelings. But he doesn’t need to use his special set of agent skills on you tonight. 

“You won’t look at me for very long. It’s exactly like your brother.” 

You sniff ineffectually. “It is?” 

He looks especially solemn, then. “I wish we didn’t miss out on so much with each other, but I’m here now, if you want me. You can tell me what’s bothering you. I promise I’ll listen.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ve always heard worse.” He manages a smile. “Not that what you’re feeling isn’t important.” 

“Well, I… it’s mostly the little things. You know school is hard.” 

“At GWU? It’s gruelling.” 

“It’s awful. I probably need a tutor.” You laugh. “Maybe. It’s not so bad, and once this year is over, I’m done, but I have my internship lined up for the summer, so I’m trying very hard to– to work as much as I can now. But working and studying all the time makes me tired.” Your cheeks heat at having spilled it all without finesse. “Sorry, I know you work twenty three hours a day.” 

“How many hours are you working a week?” he asks. 

“Uh, usually twenty-four. I try to do three shifts a week. Sometimes they want me after school, so it’s more like twenty-nine or thirty-four.” Or forty-four.

“And you’re studying–”

“Every spare minute.” 

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m sorry. It sounds hard…” 

“What?” you ask. 

“I’m just thinking about something.” He licks his lips. “And you’ve always worked? Since high school?” 

Your flush worsens. “Yeah. I have to pay for school somehow, and to eat.” You quieten. 

“What if you didn’t have to work, honey?” 

You shake your head vehemently. “Aaron.” 

“I’m serious. What if you didn’t have to do so much? You need time to do nothing. Overworking yourself will give you an ulcer, trust me, and that’s the last thing I want. I could–”

“I can’t take your money–”

“It’s not just my money. Does Jack ‘take’ my money?” 

“You signed up for Jack–”

“And I’m signed up for you. I want to be here for you, and this is what father’s do, okay? If they can, and I can.” 

“Unnecessary brag.” 

He ignores your joke. “Even if I could just pay for GWU. I know those textbooks are burning a hole in your pocket.” 

You refuse. Aaron promises to return to the subject when you aren’t exhausted, and maybe you’ll let him. It would be beautiful to wake up on a Saturday with nothing to do. 

It would be nice not to miss your dad. You’ve done it your whole life, but now he’s real, and he seems to really care about you. When he hugs you after he’s paid for dinner, you want to be allowed to cling, and, as he tightens his hold, you realise you are. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” 

You ease back. “Really?” Because you hadn’t mentioned that you missed him, but he already knows.

He pats your arm. “You know I’d see you every day, if I could? I’ve missed out on enough already. We’ll take Jack to Olive Garden again and you can think a bit more on what I proposed.” 

“I can’t take your money,” you repeat quietly. 

“Not that, though you should. You can tell me anything, okay?” 

You breathe out as he steps away. “Okay.” 

He touches your cheek briefly. “Okay. I’m proud of you. You’re doing great.” 

“Thanks, Aaron.” 

“You’re welcome. Text me when you get home safe, all right?” 

You look at him for too long. “Thank you,” you say again, moving in for another hug. 

He props his head atop yours carefully. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

[elliespassagerprincess]

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 3)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who’s literally the sweetest girlfriend ever. A little old school, but she’s still cute.

☆ Milf Abby who buys you weekly flowers, and who packs you lunch.

☆ Milf Abby who helps you plan lessons and sometimes comes and helps you teach.

☆ Milf Abby who gets baby fever if she sees you with kids.

☆ Milf Abby who said I love you after 3 days of dating.

☆ Milf Abby who has you as her lock screen.

☆ Milf Abby who plans family dates for you and her daughter.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart clenches when she sees how much Aubrey talks about you.

☆ Milf Abby who feels like a teenager because of you.

☆ Milf Abby that’s confused when you text her slang

Abby: ill come pick you up later?

you: yeah baby, I have to go now ttyl

Abby: what is that

☆ Milf Abby who finds pop culture drama interesting because she’s never really took interest in it till you appeared.

☆ Milf Abby who discovers so much and she feels old, but you never judge or make fun of her for it.

☆ Milf Abby who knows you’re the one.

☆ Milf Abby bought you an engagement ring after 2 weeks of dating. It was a simple ring because she knew you didn’t like big and extravagant things (unless it’s her dick-)

☆ Milf Abby who wants to propose to you at a family BBQ

☆ Milf Abby who takes you to meet her family after 4 months of dating, and she knew that this was the weekend she was going to propose.

☆ Milf Abby who held your hand the entire time, when you were being introduced.

☆ Milf Abby who tried staying by your side, but then you snatched away by Aubrey and her cousins.

☆ Milf Abby who stared at you with a smile as you were playing with the kids because you were just that pretty.

☆ Milf Abby who gets cocky when her family tells her she made the right choice.

“You got yourself a pretty girl abs”

“I know”

☆ Milf Abby who was having a good night till her ex-wife showed up.

“What are you doing here?” Abby asked through gritted teeth.

“it’s a family event, can I not be here?”

“you aren’t family”

“Abby she barley sees her mother:

“did you forget we have a child together?”

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to leave but you convinced her to stay for the sake of Aubrey.

“but she’s a bitch”

Aubrey grabbed onto your hand and she ran to her mother. You watched the women’s face drop at the sight of you

“Abby please”

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to slap her ex-wife every time she gave you a dirty look.

“mom this mommy’s girlfriend! isn’t she pretty?!”

The women stared at you with hatred in her eyes. She extended her hand out to grab your other hand in a tight handshake “I’m Kimberly” then you told her your name. The two of you fell into a awkward conversation, until she brought up Abby.

“how long have you been together?” she asked

“4 months” you replied with a smile.

“isn’t it too early to be meeting the family?” she asked, and you rolled your eyes before you responding: “isn’t it too bitchy to judge what I do in my relationship?”

Kimberly stared at you with wide eyes.

☆ Milf Abby who was listening to the whole interaction and she had the biggest smile on her face. That her girl.

☆ Milf Abby who was glued by your side the entire night, but you somehow got lost.

☆ Milf Abby who saw Kimberly walk up to her and she knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“What do you want?” Abby groaned.

“Look I need to say something”

“then talk”

The women took a deep breath before she started spewing nonsense: “I think she’s too young for you! She’s childish”

“that’s your opinion, you know nothing about her”

“well I don’t like her” Kimberly went on.

“that’s ok, but she’s my girlfriend so I don’t know why its bothering you”

“I don’t want her around Aubrey”

that was Abby’s final straw.

“Listen here, you’re barley present in our daughters life. She’s been a better mother to her that you, ever were! You know shit about Aubrey”

“I do” she tried arguing.

“if you did you would’ve know she doesn’t like the nutty chocolate you brought for her”

Kimberly went quiet. Abby continued on to talk.

“You are a shit person. You were a shitty wife, and a shitty mother. My daughter doesn’t deserve that. She needs someone like her. She’s my everything and I would fucking kill for her, so I suggest you stay out of my family’s life”

“but she’s still my daughter”

“she might be but I have full custody” Abby chuckled. “And besides not everyone was made to be a mother, especially you” Kimberly stood there quietly, and she left the party soon after.

☆ Milf Abby who was relieved that she was finally gone.

☆ Milf Abby whose family knew about the proposal and they were helping her plan it.

As the party continued to go on you stood at the table, helping Abby’s aunts with making salads. It was odd, everything became more and more quiet.

You felt arms wrap around you and you knew it was her.

“Hi” you giggled

“hi” she replied. You could practically hear her smile.

“You having fun baby?” Abby asked.

“yeah”

You noticed her sudden silence before you asked: “are you ok?”

Abby took a deep breath. She was nervous. You could tell.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking”

“about?”

“I want this”

“Salad?”

“no” she chuckled. 

“A life with you”

Your heartrate increased.

“I want us to grow old together and throw family BBQ’s. I want us to have a big house, so Aubrey can bring her kids over one day. I want to spend forever waking up next to you, and I want to grow our family….”

During her speech you didn’t notice that she let go of you. You were too busy processing her words at that moment.

“Baby look at me” Abby spoke. You slowly turned around to see Abby’s family surrounding the two of you and her on her one knee, with a delicate ring in her hand.

“Will you marry me?” She asked unsure.

You looked at her with wide eyes, no words were coming out out.

“Say yes! please I can’t wait any longer” Aubrey yelled from the sidelines. You saw Abby chuckle.

You fell down onto your knees before you grabbed her face for a kiss.

“I guess that’s a yes” Abby chuckled when she pulled away.

“fuck yes”

She slipped the ring onto your finger before she got up and yelled “she said yes!” The crowd erupted in screams and cries.

☆ Milf Abby who kissed you passionately as tears flowed from both your eyes.

This was true love.

my pookie: (the tag list): @elliens4

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part three —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let's build some relationships :)

From behind a tree, your eyes narrow with concentration as you draw the string of your bow. The feel of it in your hands offers satisfaction; you used to love new makeup, blushes and creams, or sweet custards from the market. Now, you love a good weapon.

Is there anything Ghost doesn’t know how to do? And you thought Paul had skillful hands.

You’re not sure exactly where Ghost and Blue have gone, because after leading you out the gate of their camp, Blue showing you the exact maze of steps needed to avoid their booby traps, they went their own way. Again, they disappeared among the white trees. You were left to pick a direction and stick with it. So you ended up here, the opposite way of the pond, with your eyes finally catching sight of a small deer. A fawn.

It’s young but perfect.

The blood that courses through its limbs switches on the predator part of your brain. It will be enough to keep you fed for at least a week, perhaps more, and promote the healing of the wound that aches with each shift of your waist. You inhale, exhale. The arrow is ready to release.

A single gunshot rings out.

Straight through the fawn’s eye.

It doesn’t even have time to cry out as it falls over, a small thud filling the quiet air. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes flicker in the direction of the gunshot, but you already know who has stolen this kill from you. In the distance, you see his bulky form, the lowering of his rifle, and then you see the girl bounce down from a tree and whirl towards the dead animal.

Are you kidding me?

You want to snarl and sneer. Instead, you flare your nostrils while lowering your bow. Meters away, Blue kneels down by the deer and you see her gently mouth words to its corpse. Perhaps, a childish parting that helps her feel better about its death. Ghost arrives and bends down to Blue’s level, and you can’t see his mouth with the mask on, but you know he is speaking to her by how he gestures his gloved hand around.

You’ll have to find another animal.

Squirrels aren’t your favorite meal. They’re not much compared to the taste of venison. But if you char squirrel meat just enough, it can get a nutty flavor that, with your eyes closed, you can pretend is a juicy slab of chicken home-roasted by your mother.

There is no room to be picky.

There is no room for wants anymore, only needs, and from behind the tree, you move your gaze to spot a grey squirrel that will be enough for the day’s needs. You take aim again. You’d put your washed hair in two French braids to keep the strands from interfering, but without ties, they are starting to come undone at the ends. There was a time when you cared about the fashion of your hair. Now, styling is a tactical choice.

Squirrels are trickier. They are small and require greater marksmanship than you are confident you have. Archery was never something you did until the world bled grey and demanded it of you.

The animal flicks its bushy tail, prancing about over thick tree roots. You wait for the moment it stills.

“How’s it going?” someone says, and you jump back in a step, fingers nearly slipping and releasing the arrow off at the ground.

Blue. You whirl around to see that she’s snuck up in a tree behind you, nimble and light on her feet, with curiosity filling her eyes as she sits perched on a branch, one that would be too high for you to ever climb. Her brown hair is hidden under her hood, the tip of her nose flushed pink from the air, and she rubs her hands together to brush off the crumbs of tree bark. Her movements remind you of the squirrel.

It takes a moment for your muscles to soften. You glance back at the squirrel and it’s already scampered off.

“Going great,” you tell her flatly, sighing through your nose. You can be patient with her. She’s nice, young. She’d snuck you extra food. “Shouldn’t you be with Ghost?”

“I’m just stopping by to tell you that we’re leaving. And���“ she squints her eyes in the distance for a moment, “That there’s a couple of those fucks due south.”

Those fucks.

Lovely. You glance around at the unfamiliar trees. From down here, you don’t see anything, but from her vantage point, her scope of sight is better for scouting threats.

“They’re pretty far off. Just be careful, okay?”

“Thanks. I will,” you nod.

Her bright stare then flickers to your braids. “You did your hair... What are those called again?”

She frowns, searching for the word somewhere in a corner of her young brain. You’re surprised that a ten-year-old girl doesn’t know what French braids are; they’d been all you wore as a kid. But then you realize her normal life came to an end at age five. Perhaps many of the memories have faded, replaced with more useful knowledge that her father has had to stuff in there.

You swallow. “Braids?”

“Braids,” she repeats, tasting the foreign word with a click of her tongue. “Right. They look really cool on you.”

“These ones are pretty shitty because I don’t have anything to keep them in.”

Blue starts to say, "Maybe you could—"

But a gruff call cuts through the trees, beckoning her head to turn.

"Blue. Let's go."

Your own eyes follow the voice and land on Ghost some odd paces away. He is already staring at you through lidded eyes, a palpable energy rolling off his body in waves that you can feel even from this distance. Over his shoulders, he carries the fawn with ease. Large palms clasping the knobby ankles. A steady drip of its blood creates a red stain in the snow beside his boot.

He looks horrific. A smear of crimson on the skull. Dressed in all black, carrying a dead animal as if it is nothing. You recall how he'd pushed you to the ground like you were nothing, too. You swallow the thought.

Before you can even look back at Blue, she's already gone. Whirling down from the branch and running over, following in his footsteps as they head back.

It takes another agonizing hour but you manage to kill a squirrel. The Greys don’t find you, luckily. You stuff your coat pockets with some pine needles and decide to call it a meal, knowing that you will have to hunt again tomorrow.

This area of the forest is still new. In your brain, you’ve already etched some markers to find your way back: the pond where they found you, a circle of pine trees to the right of their camp with a big stump in the center, a small creek past the hill. But the way you return back today leads to you approaching the camp from the backside, and you notice something.

Behind the cabin is something covered in a big black tarp. The tarp is peppered with fallen twigs and snow, but still, you think you make out the shape of a vehicle underneath.

They have a car—?

Irritation finds you. How did Ghost manage such things? A goddamn cabin, a deep trench that you assume he dug all by himself. And now a car. Did he also have petrol stored somewhere? By the looks of it, the tarp hasn’t been moved in a while. What is the car for? Is this what he uses to get medicine from the cities?

You almost scoff as your boots crunch the snow.

You won’t have any of our medicine.

There hasn’t even been a chance to consider how you might fend for some yourself. 

For now, you will just focus on food.

Ghost has tied the deer upside down on a branch by the time you are back. You carefully recall the way through their traps. Blue has to unlock the bolted gate for you, but then she runs back to Ghost, who hands a thick blade to her.

“Go on, then, kid.”

“I hate this part,” she mumbles, but he lifts her up so she can reach the knife to the animal’s hind legs, beginning to skin the hide top-down. She wears a concentrated expression as she does so, nose scrunched, and you can tell that skinning deer is a skill her small hands have practiced before. 

Ghost is the one to butcher it.

You skin your squirrel. 

They use the fireplace for cooking, and of course, their dinner is prepared first. While you wait, you undo your braids and snack on the pine needles. Blue is surprisingly quiet, helping her dad cook a little and playing with Grim on the floor, but also flickering her gaze to you every minute or so. 

“Your hair is curly now,” she comments softly during dinner. “From the braids?”

“That happens when you take them out,” you say after swallowing a piece of meat. There’s nothing to wipe your hands on, so you use your trousers as a napkin. Your mother would’ve had a fit. 

“Do you…” you clear your throat, glancing at Ghost and then back to the girl. “Do you want me to braid your hair after dinner?”

She nods sheepishly, but Ghost huffs out a low breath. “I could do that for you, Blue.”

“Ghost,” she sighs. “You don’t know how.”

“How hard can it be?”

But Blue licks her lips and shakes her head, mumbling, “I want her to do it. She’s good at it.”

The way Ghost looks at you is rarely anything but uncomfortable. However, when you sit down on the rug with Blue, your hands finding purchase in her hair, his eyes seem to burn holes through your body deeper than any time before. It is as if letting someone touch his daughter physically sickens him, and causes his breathing to turn weighted and deep. He begrudgingly allows it but supervises, sitting on the couch as you begin braiding her hair. 

Grim sits in her lap. She strokes his fur.

“You have pretty hair,” you tell her.

Blue softly wonders, “How can hair be pretty?”

“I… I don’t know,” you say. “The color, the length. It’s just pretty, I think.”

“Ghost cuts it for me,” she says, turning to look at him.

“Wait, don’t move. It’ll mess me up.”

“Oh, sorry,” she turns back but continues. “He gets it wet and has me lay my head on the tree stump so it’s all flat. Then, he chops it off with his knife. Right, Ghost?”

His response is a low hum. It’s stiff, pushing through a tense jaw.

You finish the two French braids, running your fingers over them.

"I don't have anything to tie them, but they look really nice on you."

It is then that Ghost stands up and disappears for a minute. When he returns, he has a roll of black thread that you believe he used for your stitches.

With the knife from his belt, he cuts two pieces, bends down, and silently offers them to your palm. Blue lights up. You tie off the braids and she stands, toying with them happily, and asking her dad what he thinks. Finally, you notice his shoulders soften.

"Beautiful," he murmurs quietly, just for her. He strokes the braided hair and then gives a gentle brush of his thumb over her cheek. "Always look beautiful, Baby Blue."

"Don't—" her cheeks flush and she briefly flashes her eyes to you, "Don't call me that."

"Used to call you it all the time,” he grumbles. “Gettin' too old for it, are you?"

What you learn Blue isn't too old for is curling up with him on the couch. This is the first night you stay in the cabin after dinner rather than retreating to your shed, simply because they've left some embers in the fireplace for warmth. You sit on the floor beside it. Blue sits with Ghost and he pulls out a book to read quietly to her.

You try not to look.

It touches you in a way you didn't think it would. It seems so normal. For a moment, you imagine a world where things could be different. A world where Blue wore braids to school every day. A world where Ghost could pick a new book out, rather than read the same ones over and over. A world where, maybe, you could have a family of your own, rather than be an uncomfortable witness to theirs.

But your family is nothing now. You never even knew what happened to your parents. The end arrived when you were away from them. No wifi. No service. Whether they died or turned Grey, you could never be certain. A pit in your gut told you their end happened years ago.

You’re brought out of your daze when Ghost stands from the couch. Blue has fallen asleep. He carries the girl to her room, and you take it as a sign to leave for your place outside. 

But before you can open the door, his voice stops you, dropping down to an even lower octave.

“Hold on.”

You turn. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

Despite the warmth from the fireplace, your blood goes icy rigid. You stand there and press your lips. “If this is about the braids, then I won’t do it again. I was just trying to be nice.”

“No. Not that,” and he holds your stare, unwavering, “It’s about your old camp. The other day, you said there were… hoards of ‘em.” 

The words roll off his tongue thoughtfully as if this is something that has been mulling over in that brain of his for a while. Thoughts belonging to a skull. A ghost. A father. 

Ghost continues gruffly, “Where were you?”

“West of here,” you say. “Jesus, I think, at least. I couldn’t really tell where I was going.”

“How far?”

“Far, but not that far.” Your eyes drift to the floor. “By the forest’s edge.”

“We don’t see that many of them here,” Ghost mutters. This might be the most he’s spoken to you in five days. “Only ever a few at a time. Ten at the most.”

“That’s how it was for us. But more came, and then,” you exhale, “And then there were too many.”

Your eyes close, recalling the frantic manner in which you escaped. The last glimpse of your old life had been the mangled arm of your sister, thick bites cutting down to white bone. In a way, you were glad there were enough of them to kill her.

Your eyes reopen. “We should’ve had an escape plan, something for emergencies. We got too complacent after making it for so long.”

All Ghost says is, “Yeah. You should have.”

And then he is dismissing you with a lazy wave of his hand, turning to give you his back. You scowl, roll your eyes as he is not looking, and leave the cabin. Your spine already aches before you even lay down on the floorboards for the night.

You wonder if Ghost has his own emergency plans; what would have to happen for him to abandon this perfect setup? How would he do it? The memory of the car out back finds you as you drift off. But your sleep that night is haunted by terrible, grey dreams.

It usually is.

Hunting on your own is different than hunting with Paul. There's some learning to do. You have to study the tracks on your own and observe the marks of antlers against the trees. For the first week, you don't get a single deer. Only squirrels. One skinny hare. Ghost and Blue don't go with you; the fawn, rabbits, and stored cans and jars hold them over.

Most evenings are spent braiding Blue's hair. I like the way it feels, she claims. Ghost gets used to it. He still watches from the couch but rather than stiffly staring, he lays down and relaxes, placing a hand over his chest.

The next time they go hunting, Blue's hair is still woven in the French braids when you catch an interesting sight through the cabin's window. She stands on the dining chair to reach Ghost's mask, peeling it off. You can only see the back of his head: brown hair, chopped short.

So there is a human under that thing?

She sets the mask on the table and picks up a clean one. A different one.

When they come out, Ghost with his guns and Blue with her knives, he appears more like a father than a character from a horror film. There is no plastic skull. Instead, a cutout in the fabric reveals the tops of his temples and the strong bridge of his nose. You would never say it, but you prefer this one.

Blue must catch your staring because she tells you, "The other one was starting to smell. I made him change."

"Good call," you quip under your breath.

Again, you go your separate ways. You head for the pond. You think you can hear them somewhere nearby, but ignore it, focusing on the deer prints in the snow. It's hard to tell if they're fresh. It hasn't snowed in two days.

Your footsteps quiet to a halt when you hear light crunching sounds. Another living thing is close by. You take position behind a thick pine, eyes scanning the wooded area and the pond to the right of you. But you know the sound of deer, and you're starting to learn the sound of Blue.

She's scampering towards the pond, just her. You can't see Ghost. As protective as he can be, he allows the girl some length to her leash. Offers bite-sized moments of independence. She's allowed to play in the tree just outside their camp before sundown, but only if he is watching. So you imagine he has let her run off ahead only because he is somewhere nearby.

From the distance, you watch her lurch for a squirrel.

She is quick about it.

Grabs the neck, and holds it up. A quick slice to the jugular. Blood seeps. She frowns, closing her eyes and murmuring something that, in the quietness, you think is along the lines of: I'm sorry. Tried to make it quick for you.

And then she begins to skin it, right then and there.

Young, nimble hands taught to survive.

As she does so, you decide you've seen enough. You have your own food to find.

But as you move from the tree, your eyes drift to find another watcher. A form takes shape behind a distant oak, near the pond. Your heart spikes; a Grey? But no— a Grey would already be running towards her scent. This shape belongs to a human, a withered man with hair that juts out in grey clumps, and crazed eyes pointed right at her.

More so, a revolver pointed.

taglist: @cool-0-n @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09 @spikespiegell @littlezarp @rebel-soldat @4headkissess @mckenzieriley69 @moxxiestar @palomaxaxaxa @msjaeger

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP Wednesday

This is another of those “I’m sure I posted this before but have been through entire blog and cannot locate it so… maybe I imagined?” - but apologies if you have seen a version of it before as I’m sure I remember comments…

It was actually prompted by Nutty’s fabfebfive list and the word was necklace… anyway it is part of the jumble of things I have related to a big fic that might never make it off the ground…

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

Ashmore McKellar’s new wingman was a lunatic and was going to get them both killed.

And that wasn’t even the worst thing about him.

He sat at a quiet corner table nursing a single malt and impassively observed the cocky idiot cackling away with the rest of their unit, none of whom seemed to realise how annoying he was. Everything from the ludicrously immovable hair to the stupid blue sneakers via the childish necklace of wooden beads he seemed to never be without and… ugh and that incredibly irritating dimpled grin. Everything about the man set his teeth on edge.

He wasn’t glaring though - his poker face was always on point. The fact he was fantasising about burning a hole in the side of Tracy’s head should be externally invisible and so it was a shock that, when the man in question glanced up and caught his eye, the happy expression faltered slightly and a crinkle of uncertainty marred his perfect brow.

Oops.

Well it would probably do him good to know not everyone thought the sun shone out of his...

He shook himself slightly and dropped his gaze to the melting ice in his glass. This was not normal: laidback Ash was friends with everyone, to the extent it was sometimes bordering on a character flaw. People just didn’t tend to wind him up.

Ok, time to critically examine the unusually intense reaction… why was he being like this? Was he… jealous? Tracy was undeniably a hotshot, although with a reckless approach that was definitely going to cause trouble. He wasn’t the first of those, however and wouldn’t be the last. Ashmore had never been the best and that didn’t bother him. The skills that seemed to have come naturally to the others he had earned with hard work and constant repetition. He built up to things until he could do what was required. He calculated the parameters to the nth degree and approached every flight manoeuvre with scientific precision. His piloting was efficient and reliable and he got the job done with no melodrama. But this was undeniably rare in his profession and certainly this particular unit was chock full of showboating flyboys and flygirls with whom he got on just fine. So the fact Tracy was no different shouldn’t affect him.

Nor was it even the ridiculous antics that were definitely going to get them both killed… if someone didn’t throttle the guy first. No. It wasn’t that. He could deal with that.

He suppressed a sigh and downed the rest of his drink. It numbed his sore throat and the burn brought a temporary relief to the pressure in his sinuses. Maybe this was really just bad temperedness because he was coming down with something.

Perhaps the whisky brought clarity because suddenly he realised what his sub-conscious had already figured out - that this working relationship was going to be deeply uncomfortable.

Earlier, a headache-ridden and slightly feverish Ashmore McKellar had told everyone he was absolutely Fine. And, as always, everyone had believed him… because they always did. His poker face was, as ever, on point.

Everyone except Scott Tracy, who had seen right through him with those freakishly blue eyes and had palmed him two paracetamol with a pointed eyebrow raise and not let him out of his sight all afternoon.

Damn him.

Nobody got past Ash’s “Fine”.

Nobody.

If Tracy could… then what else was he going to see?

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

[melonsharks]

Tell us everything about the parent trap au immediately please please please

to give u an insanely quick rundown with a wip art i have:

aziraphale as elizabeth. wedding dress designer under his pen name A.Z. Fell. (hes an artist as confirmed in s2 and the whole "drawing on napkins" thing elizabeth would do appeals to me immensely)

crowley as nick. owns a vineyard. I NEED HIM TO OWN A VINEYARD SO BAD. shoutout to Old Vines on ao3 for changing me in a fundamental way. he makes wines and he tends to the vines and he is so passionate about it to an abusurdist degree. he yells at his vines when they arent growing right. you already knowwww.

when they meet for the first time, they don’t meet on a boat like in the movie, they actually meet at a wedding party :J crowley was a wine collector, just starting out. he loved offering aziraphale samplings of his most vintage collection out of impulse. (he likes seeing the way aziraphale savors them) (he’s besotted) Wants to own his own vineyard one day. aziraphale, on the other hand, has dreams of becoming a fashion designer of sorts, always drawing ideas on any scraps of paper he can find. his designs are very old fashioned, but thats like… part of the appeal. his work very much reflects who he is, and the people who flock to it understand that.

they enter this kind of… whirlwind relationship, they get married, and then eventually adopt two golden haired blue eyed baby boys. twins. :J warlock and adam.

they break things off because aziraphale leaves... alluding to their recent breakup in season two, the reason he left was because "we both clearly had very different ideas on where our lives were going. so. i packed up and left." (parallel s2 divorce 😋 they don’t know how to talk to each other) (aziraphale throws a book at his head after this argument, like the hairdryer in the movie LOL. it was pride and prejudice. crowley still has it.)

aziraphale leaves with adam. warlock is left with crowley. crowley eventually leaves London because he finds he cant stand being anywhere near Aziraphale (hes just irresistible in that way), and he goes to California where he finally fulfills his dream of owning a vineyard. a nice one on Napa, Northern California.

Aziraphale’s wedding dresses become more and more well known, Adam grows well-adjusted. Same kid you know from the show and book, natural born leader, a good head on his shoulders. (Aziraphale has no idea why Adam is like that, but he is so proud)

Crowley’s vineyard (The Garden Of Eden) grows and grows… Warlock is spoiled rotten, but he does love actually working at the vineyard with Crowley to and he and Crowley have a really good relationship…

Eventually the kids go to a summer camp together in London (i dont know if they . do this in the UK, but suspend your disbelief if you will) Adam meets The Them there, then meets Warlock after a nutty fencing thing, they kind of hate each other at first and the rest is history :J

side characters UM. LOL. idk……. i mean i kind of know but not really? theres just so many possibilities that make the rounds in my head. chessy could be anathema OR nina (ive had people suggest eric too?) and martin could be newt OR maggie (ive also had people suggest muriel????) gestures vaguely.

as for meredith…….erm…………🤷‍♂️ ive had everything under the sun suggested to me and i still……have no idea. LOL. gabriel, lucifer, shaX, FURFUR, THE WIFE FROM THE NON-SPOILER SPOILERS. I DONT KNOW. IT ALL FEELS WRONG. its hard to come up with this role in particular when these gay bitches literally only have eyes for each other. always. forever. u know. i think lucy is like. the classic answer. but idfk.

ask me about . more things if u want. this is consuming my every thought.

anyways the cover im working on for. for something:

[late-to-the-party-81]

Hi Jen! Congrats on the 1K ❤️ You deserve them all and so much more!

I’m sorry that I’m a little bit late with sending in a request but would it be possible to do “The grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” with Mr. Bucky 🥺 All the love and hugs to you!

AN: Hanna, my love! I hope you enjoy this!

ANd this brings my celebration fics to a close. You still have plenty of time to write your own Challenge Fic for inclusion on my celebration masterlist.

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog. Dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list 

Summary: You’re perpetually chipper and happy. The steely-eyed brunet you run into outside your work is not.

Relationship: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

CW: Grumpy Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff and flirting.

You’re always happy. Nothing ever seems to get you down. So much so, that even your friends call you ‘Sunny’. Que sera, sera was your motto. No use crying over spilt milk, etc. Life is what you make of it, so you choose to make it joyful. Your best friend thought that your receptionist job would eventually wear you down and turn you into a cynic, like her, but no. It was like being upbeat was your superpower.

It was therefore a normal morning as you walked down the sidewalk, humming along to the music pumping through your earbuds, on your way to work. The subway hadn’t been packed, the sun was shining out from behind the clouds and you knew it would be a wonderful day, especially once you’d picked up your hazelnut latte from old Frankie, the street coffee vendor half a block from your office. He always had your drink waiting for you and you always had just slightly more than the exact change, rushing away without taking the change, no matter how many times he’d tried to either catch up with you, or insist the next one was on the house. Thinking about that first sip of nutty-sweet milky java had you almost salivating. Unfortunately it also distracted you.

You registered the bump, followed by a curse that was loud enough to pierce through the music pulsating straight into your ears. You turned to see a man in a leather jacket, with short brown hair, swiping at the patch of wetness on his jeans with a gloved hand, while an empty paper coffee cup lay on its side on the ground. You pulled out your earbuds and then, without thinking, pulled a handful of paper napkins out of your purse. You dropped to a crouch in front of him and started to pat at the dampness.

“I’m so sorry! I was just distracted by the beauty of the day and the thought of my first coffee, and I just didn’t see you, and I hope you’re okay and…”

Your brain kicked in as two things happened. Firstly, you realised that you were patting very close to the stranger’s crotch. Secondly, the napkins were being pulled out your hand very firmly and you were being pulled to your feet.

Blue.

That’s what you noticed first.

Icy, steely blue.

His eyes were like diamonds and momentarily you couldn’t look away.

“...I said, do you always make a habit of accosting and groping strangers first thing in the morning?”

You snapped back to reality as you realised that ‘blue eyes’ was talking to you. Well, actually, it was more like growling at you. What a sourpuss. You flashed him one of your trademark smiles.

“Not everyday, I’ll admit - the police might have something to say about it.” The man ‘harumphed’ and continued glaring at you. Obviously not a fan of your brand of humour.

“...Anyway, let me get you another coffee, it’s the least I can do to apologise.”

You turned toward old Frankie and his cart, and bless his soul if he didn’t already have your drink, and what you could only assume was a duplicate of Grumpy’s order.

“The refill is on the house, Sunny. And no arguments. Accidents happen.”

You smiled at the old man and bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.

“That they do, Frankie. And, if you’ll excuse the blasphemy, it’s only coffee.”

He shook his head at you with a smile and waved you away so he could deal with his next customer. You turned back to the object of your unanticipated morning interaction, only to find that he’s gone. You turned in a circle, seeing if you could spot which way he’d gone, but nope, he’d completely disappeared. Well, his loss, and now you had a spare coffee. With a small shrug you continued on your way.

Ten am, and you were settled into your day. You loved your job as a receptionist at the VA. You got to help some of your nation’s greatest and bravest citizens transition back to civilian life, which you felt was the least you could do to show your appreciation. When you weren’t greeting those coming to use the various services offered at this centre, you were phoning veterans to organise appointments for physiotherapy, counselling and group support sessions.

“Hey, Sunny!” You looked up from your computer to see Joe, one of the support group leaders smiling at you as he leant on your counter. 

“Morning, Joe! It’s a lovely day today, and made even better by you being here!” 

“Sunny, you keep flirting like that, I’m gonna have to insist you come out for a drink with me.”

You chuckled. This was your regular banter with him.

“Joe, you know this ain’t flirting, this is just me. And you’re as old as my dad.”

He clutched his hand to his heart, theatrically. “You wound me, Sunny. I may just expire, as I’m apparently that old. Anyhow, you got me the expected attendance list for the meeting?”

You rifled through the papers in the folder on your desk.

“Sure thing. Here it is. I can see you gotta few new names on here, so hopefully it will be an interesting one.”

“You know that’s an old Chinese curse - ‘may you live in interesting times’?” He gave you a wink as he took the paper from your hand and walked off towards the room he used, with only a slight limp giving away the fact that his right leg was a prosthetic.

Half an hour later and the vets for the Joe’s group started to arrive, all of them being amputees of some description, some sporting prosthetics and others not. They all came together though, to talk about the trauma of losing a limb in combat, the long road to recovery and issues associated with having a prosthetic or a missing limb, both physically, mentally and socially. 

The regulars came up and used the computer screen on their side of your desk to log their arrival and get a printed photo sticker-badge to wear. The newbies, however, had to go through you for their first time, which is why you always recommended they turn up 15 minutes before the start of the session so you could double check their identity, the information you held and then get them a computer profile set up for all return visits.

You’d just completed all the paperwork with one newcomer, and sent him off with an old-hand to the meeting room when the doors to the building slammed open. You looked up and couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face.

“It’s you! I’m afraid I drank your replacement coffee, cos you disappeared so quickly.”

Grumpy just glared at you. You noticed there was still a slight stain on his jeans. You tried a different tack.

“Can I help you with anything? Are you a vet, or looking to support a vet? We’ve got lots of programmes and support groups.”

Still without saying anything he tugged the glove off his left hand, revealing the metallic sheen of the most advanced prosthetic you’d ever seen. Understanding dawned.

“Ooo! Are you here for the amputee support group?” You looked down at your copy of the attendance list, noting that only one vet, one of the new guys hadn’t yet checked in.  “Are you James Barnes?”

“Sergeant.”

A look of puzzlement marred your features.

“Pardon?”

“Sergeant Barnes.”  You got it then. Some guys, especially if fresh out and still adjusting, preferred to be referred to by their military rank. 

“Okay, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve just gotta get you set up here. What’s your date of birth?” You glanced up from your computer to find he was still staring at you.

“Seriously? You’re asking me that?”

You were confused by his tone; this wasn’t normally an issue.

“Absolutely. Gotta make sure I’ve got it all correct.”

“Like you don’t already know.”

Your almost permanent smile started to falter under his intense gaze.

“I really don’t. And I need it for the records.”

Barnes let out a resigned huff.

“Fine. Play your games. Seventeenth March, 1917.”

“1970? Gotta say, you don’t look like you’re over fifty. Good genes I suppose.”

“No, doll. 1917. One Nine One Seven.”

Now you were really confused.

“How is that possible? That would make you…” You paused while you did the maths in your head…. “One hundred and six. And like I just said, you don’t even look fifty.”

“Look, doll. Either you’re a really good actress, been hiding under a rock, or just dumb.”

Normally you could keep your cool, laugh and brush off negative comments, but something about the grumpy sergeant was rubbing you up the wrong way.

“That’s not very nice, Sergeant. Just because you don’t like the questions and don’t want to answer them properly, doesn’t mean you have to be mean to me.”

He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you really telling me that you don’t know who I am? Even with having my name in front of you, seeing my arm and me telling you how old I am? Don’t you ever watch the news?”

“Not really. It’s too depressing and sad.”

Another sigh.

“Okay, okay. My full name is James Buchanen Barnes, 107th. Presumed KIA in February 1945, but in fact taken captive by Hydra. I survived traumatic, unintentional amputation of my left arm via snowy mountainside, and was given a replacement by them when they brain-washed me, turning me into an assassin, and was kept cryogenically frozen between missions, spanning over 70 years. I was known as the Winter Soldier. My conditioning started to break in 2014 when I was commanded to kill Captain America, but as Steve was my childhood best friend, my brain rebelled. I went on the run for two years until I was framed for the assassination of King T’Chaka of Wakanda and captured by Shield, then triggered into my Winter Soldier state by a disgruntled Sokovian Baron, wanting revenge on the Avengers for the death of his family during the Ultron incident. I then spent a further two years in Wakanda, having my programming broken, recovering mentally and physically, and given this new arm, before fighting Thanos and getting dusted with half of everyone else. Came back in the Blip, and now supporting Sam Wilson as the new Captain America. I was pardoned for my past crimes and have to attend court mandated therapy and it’s been suggested that attending a support group could be good for me. Know who I am now?”

It was your turn to stare, eyes wide and mouth open as you absorbed all the information from his monologue.

“Soooo, what I’m getting is that you really are 106 years old and for some reason you have a pardon and court-mandated therapy for things you did while you were brain-washed. Seems hinky to me, but who am I to question it?”

A snort left Barnes’ nose, a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“That’s what you take from my story. No questions about Hydra, no histrionics about the fact that a famed assassin is standing in front of you?”

“Why would I? You’ve told me you’ve been ‘deprogrammed’, you’ve been referred to us for group support, and if you were that dangerous I’m sure I wouldn’t have survived the coffee incident this morning.”

His lips twitched, and his face transformed. The lines in his forehead disappeared and migrated to the corners of his eyes, eyes that were now less steel and more spring sky coloured.

“Nothing phases you, does it?”

“Nope. That’s why everyone calls me Sunny. And is that a smile I see, Sergeant? Don’t tell me that somehow I’ve broken through that stoic facade of yours?”

His smile grew wider.

“I’m sure you’re just imagining it. I’m still really annoyed.”

“Uh-huh?” You smiled back. No, you grinned back.

He leaned his crossed arms on the counter, his stance now far more relaxed.

“What other information do you need for that computer system of yours, Sunny? My telephone number perhaps?”

Oh, wow! He’d gone from grumpy to flirt in less than 60 seconds. Now he was fully smiling you had to admit he was kinda cute. Or rather hella hot. You resisted the urge to pull at the neckline of your top to let the steam out.

“I’ve already got a record of that here already, Sergeant.”

His arm reached over the countertop and he snagged your pen and notepad from next to you.

“Well, just in case you need it again for your records, or for any other purpose, I’ll write it down for you.”

If it was possible, your grin got wider.

“Why, Sergeant Barnes, that’s very… helpful of you.”

“Call me James, doll. Or Bucky, if you want.” The tip of his tongue peaked out from between his lips and you were mesmerised.

“Of course… James.” 

You swore you saw him shiver as you said his name. 

The clock above your head gave a ‘ding’ as it struck the hour, and you realised that his session was about to start. You gave a little cough and dragged your eyes away from Barnes’ James’ face and back to your computer.

“I’d best get this all finished off, so you can go join in the group. It’s really good - Joe is so lovely and supportive.”

You finished typing, directed him to stand in front of the camera (which he scowled at) and printed off his sticker ID.

“When you finish, just peel off the sticker, place it in the bin and note on the system that you’re leaving. That should be around midday.”

“And when do you get your lunch break, doll?”

Oh! How were you supposed to cope in the face of his megawatt charm? It had been a lot easier when he was grouchy, even though you’d wanted to tease him.

“Why, James, are you asking me out?”

“Well, you do owe me a coffee.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958

[stationintern]

Hello there!

July is a rainy month here in the mountains, but these fics felt like a ray of sunshine! I’m back with another favorites list, and very proud that I remembered to do this. Let’s go!

A Savior’s Guide to Manners and Decorum - E, 13k by @wolfpants

I think putting Draco Malfoy in any sort of teaching position is a recipe for perfection. So, that was a major factor in my enjoyment of this fic. Everything I’ve read from wolfpants has been incredible (I read Nightcall at least twice a month), and this did NOT disappoint. If you like a bumbling Harry with obscure hobbies, this is the fic for you.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night In Soho) - E, 65k by @writcraft and @celilasart for Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018

I saw this fic recommended left and right on the Drarry writers discord, and it’s been sitting in my marked for later forever. And, boy, do I wish I’d read it earlier. The art is BEAUTIFUL. I stared at it for about ten minutes. I’m a sucker for two lost souls finding their calm together in the eye of the storm, and I’ve been yearning for another fic that explores queer history as it pertains to the magical world. In conclusion, this was everything I needed. A rainy night for a rainy season.

Grounds For Divorce - E, 122k by @tepre

This is another one of those fics that I’ve seen recommended everywhere but just hadn’t gotten to yet. Fics that cover long periods of time hold a special place in my heart, and the journey I got to experience while reading this left me breathless by the time I was finished. I can’t wait to read it again.

Up The - E, 7k by @shiftylinguini

I’m not a big mpreg reader, not for any particular reason, but this fic was so sweet. The premise was hilarious and ridiculously fitting for these two. Love an established relationship, love a nutty plan to get pregnant. Loved it.

Faint Indirections - T, 29k by ignatiustrout

It’s so fun whenever I get to explore a new city with this pair. God, this was so fucking hilarious. Watching these two communicate in the least efficient way possible tickled me and I will be thinking about this fic for a very long time.

to be a bit of warmth (for you) - M, 9k by @softlystarstruck

This was just the sweetest thing I’ve read in a very long time. The intimacy, the characterization. How the author managed to pack so much beauty into 10k words is a mystery that I thank god for every day.

on open wounds - M, 16k by asofthaven

extremely loud growling noises (positive.) read this in my honda accord while eating a quesadilla and watching drunk rodeo goers mill about the town square and felt more emotions than i’ve ever felt before in my life. thank you. thank you thank you thank you.

Everybody Hates a Tourist - E, 51k by @wolfpants for @hd-wireless 2023

As I said before, I love getting to explore a city with these two, and watching Harry find himself with a Draco who has built a life for himself is something I will never get sick of. Especially when every bit of it is absolutely baffling for Harry. So excited to find out who wrote this. I enjoyed every second of it. (Should’ve known it was wolfpants! So, so good!)

Well, that’s all for now, folks! These fics helped with my July gloom, and I’m so thankful for all the wonderful writers in this community who gift us these beautiful stories.

See you next month with more recs!

xx, Moon.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 20th

Foodplay, Aurora x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Food play; hella sapphic (I was in a mood and decided to make it everyone else's problem lmao you're welcome); slow burn; chef!Reader; established relationship; blindfold; semi-public; marking; nipple play; biting; spit as lube; fingering; praise kink; cum eating; recommended listening: Opera.

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

This is another favourite of mine, please enjoy!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The Ministry kitchens had been dimly lit by hundreds of long, black candles, flames flickering with the gentle breeze that flowed through the air conditioning vents and cooled the metal room. The gentle and sweet tones of classic opera were floating around the room to hush the electrical hum of the kitchen appliances and make the room feel just that bit more atmospheric.

Aurora had no idea you were planning this, but now she was back off tour and Papa had given her a significant chunk of time to just exist, it felt like the perfect moment to reconnect with her. Her helmet was off, her long hair tied back in a low ponytail and your hands covered her eyes as she walked tentatively into the room.

“It smells great.” She commented, though still a little nervous. She didn’t know where you were and that was what she didn’t like.

“I hope so, it took me ages to make it all. Okay.” You removed your hands from her eyes and took a step back. You couldn’t see her face, but her audible reaction was enough to elicit a beaming smile from you.

“You did all this?” She asked, clearly pleased by the surprise.

“Well, Papa helped decorate. I wouldn’t let him go near the food for obvious reasons.”

Her beautiful hands came up to cup your cheeks as she pulled you in for a gentle kiss. “Thank you so much! I love it!”

“You’re welcome.” You wrapped your arms around her waist. “Welcome home.” You gave her another kiss before you let her go. “Right, tonight we’re playing a game.”

“Oh?”

“I have been practicing how to make these dishes to absolute perfection. I want to blindfold you and see if you can tell which dishes they are.”

“How many are there?”

“Six.”

“Six!?”

“Three meals and three desserts.”

Aurora sat at the table in the centre of the kitchen and rubbed her hands together. She tried looking around in the darkness for some hints or clues to help her tell which dishes you’d cooked, but she couldn’t see anything from her position. So, she sighed. “I’m ready, let’s go!”

You gently tied the blindfold around her eyes and made sure she couldn’t see what was happening in front of her before you ran to grab the food. You lay each item out in front of you, giving yourself easy access to each dish.

“What happens if I don’t guess them correctly?”

“You don’t get to eat tonight.”

Aurora slapped you playfully. “Don’t you dare!” She paused. “What happens if I guess them correctly?” Her tone was a little suggestive in comparison to her last question.

You sat down on the bench next to her. “What do you want to happen?”

Aurora just smiled at you. “What’s the first dish, chef?”

The first dish was perhaps the easiest of the three but by no means the least delicious. Spaghetti carbonara; a delicious dish made with spaghetti, eggs, Pecorino Romano cheese, guanciale (or pancetta), and black pepper. The luxurious richness that envelops each strand of al dente spaghetti in a delicious embrace is the first flavour to meet your taste in a dish like this.

A tantalising role is played by the salty, savoury overtones from the crisped guanciale or pancetta, which gives the dish a delicious smokiness that lingers and creates a pleasing contrast with the creamy sauce.

The Pecorino Romano cheese, which generously coats each forkful with a robust and salty tang, greets you as your teeth sink into the pasta. It embraces you with its nutty, salty embrace. By adding depth of flavour, this cheese counteracts the dish’s richness with its distinctive sharpness.

The dish becomes more complex with its taste, and adds a zesty, mildly spicy kick thanks to the finely ground black pepper that has been cracked and sprinkled throughout. It offers a soft warmth, similar to a warm embrace on a chilly night.

You twirled a fork in the pasta and tried to gather as many of the ingredients as you could in a small enough bite so as not to make a mess and make Aurora embarrassed. “Open wide for me.” You told her, your voice low and soothing against the backdrop of Pavarotti and the Philharmonia Orchestra. Gently, you deposited the forkful of food into her mouth, and watched intently as she chewed politely, moving the dish from one side to the other and working hard to figure out what it was she was eating. Her brows furrowed cutely as she thought.

“Carbonara!” She said excitedly.

That was an easy one. “Correct!” You said.

“That was incredible, though, holy shit!” She was never one to mince her words when she liked something.

You ran to the freezer to grab one of the six coupes of raspberry sorbet, and explained to her what it was. “It’s to cleanse your palate between each meal so you don’t confuse the flavours.” You fed her the whole scoop of sorbet - it was only one, but it took a few cuts with the teaspoon to get it to disappear.

The second dish was osso buco; a savory and hearty Milanese specialty that features braised veal shanks simmered with white wine, broth, onions, carrots, celery, garlic, and tomatoes. It’s often garnished with gremolata, a zesty mixture of lemon zest, garlic, and parsley, which adds a burst of freshness to the rich, tender meat. This dish is known for its complex, comforting flavors and is often served with risotto or polenta. The veal shank, which has been expertly braised, yields easily to your fork and reveals its meltingly soft, succulent core, giving off an impression of unctuous tenderness.

To create a delicious harmony of flavours that dances on the palate, tomatoes add a luscious, fruity acidity. Combined with a rich, velvety sauce that coats the meat has earthy undertones from sautéed carrots and celery and a deep, mellow sweetness from caramelised onions.

Each bite is infused with a delicate, fragrant bouquet of rosemary, thyme, and garlic, which adds layers of complexity and a tinge of Mediterranean warmth. The dish is given a depth of savoury umami and a gentle, nuanced acidity by the white wine and broth, which have been simmered to perfection.

The gremolata garnish adds the finishing touch with a burst of vibrant freshness and zest. With each forkful, the combination of zesty lemon, pungent garlic, and vibrant parsley adds a fresh, energising contrast to the velvety rich sauce and tender veal.

Purposefully, you added risotto to the dish to throw her off, hoping she’d confuse it with another dish that was somewhat similar. Which she did. “Risotto alla Milanese?” She asked.

“Unfortunately, my love, that is incorrect. You think we have the money for saffron?”

“What is it?”

“Osso buco!”

She slapped her knee. “I would not have got that in a million years!”

“Really!”

“Yes! I only ever had risotto alla Milanese once when I went with Papa on a business trip up to Milan. He paid for it. It was expensive.”

You fed her a spoonful from a fresh coupe of raspberry sorbet. “That would be because it came from one of Papa’s fancy Milano restaurants that has the money for saffron.”

You noticed that a bit of the sorbet had pooled at the corner of her mouth without her noticing. You didn’t think, with your hands full you had no way to wipe it away, so you leaned forward and placed an open mouth kiss to the corner of her lips in an attempt to not make it obvious you were straight up licking her face.

At the crescendo of Un Bel di Vedremo from Act Two of Madama Butterfly, Aurora turned and locked her lips with yours, her hands moving up to your neck to pull you in for a surprise and passionate kiss. Her tongue darted into your mouth and you could taste the raspberry sorbet on her earning her a moan from your lips.

When you finally pulled away, she giggled. “What was that?” You asked.

“The music was getting intense, I just wanted to try it out and see something.”

You fed her another spoonful. “Okay, and…?”

“That felt incredible. My heart did a flutter and it felt like I was flying.”

You giggled a little at that, but understood what she meant. It was a very cinematic moment, for sure.

The final meal was lobster ravioli, a decadent pasta dish that combines plump, luscious lobster meat with delicate pasta pillows. It’s often served with a creamy tomato or seafood sauce and garnished with fresh herbs. The first bite reveals the lobster meat, which is tender, succulent, luxuriously rich, and delicately sweet, similar to the sea’s treasures. Every morsel tastes like the salty kiss of the sea.

The lobster filling is encased in soft, velvety pasta that offers a delicate counterpoint to the robustness of the seafood. It seems as though the pasta was created to cradle and highlight the lobster’s beauty.

The dish gets a layer of lusciousness from the creamy sauce, which frequently contains tomato or seafood broth. Every mouthful is infused with a velvety elegance that contrasts the lobster’s inherent sweetness. It is rich, decadent, and subtly tangy.

The dish is garnished with fresh herbs and a hint of lemon zest or parsley for a burst of freshness and vibrancy. These components improve the flavour as a whole, like a cool breeze on a summer evening by the sea.

The oceanic allure of lobster, the delicate pasta, the creamy sauce, and the vibrant accents of herbs and citrus work together to create a harmonious medley of flavours.

On your fork, you picked up one piece of ravioli and gently placed it in her mouth, waiting ardently for her answer. “This one’s tricky.” She announced between chewing. “Definitely seafood, but I can’t tell if it’s crab or shrimp.”

“Ah, interesting.”

“Which means it’s neither.”

“What? Where did that come from?”

“Your reaction. If I was right you would have told me. It’s ravioli… but what’s the meat? Lobster? Lobster ravioli?”

“Correct.”

You went to grab another coupe of raspberry sorbet.

“Really? You can afford lobster but you can’t afford saffron?”

“Saffron is ten dollars per gram!” You sat down and began feeding her the sorbet. “Lobster is only twenty euros per kilo if you go to the right vendor. You get more bang for your buck with a lobster. Besides, one of the cardinals requested lobster for one of his own private meals this lunchtime, and I thought it was a great idea.”

“So this is cardinal leftovers?”

You sighed which triggered laughter from her. “Yes, my love, I went back upstairs after the cardinal’s dinner and I scraped all the little lobster bits off the plate and turned it into ravioli. Watch out for the extra chunks of vegetables and whatever else went into that dish. This is a real Frankenstein’s monster of a pasta dish.”

“Did you feed me this because I fuck you good and Italy doesn’t have a Red Lobster?”

You wanted to be mad at her and chastise her for ruining the moment, but your head tilted back and laughed instead at her poor joke. “There is actually a Red Lobster in Roma as far as I know.”

“And you’ve never taken me there?” She acted offended. “Do I not fuck you good enough, is that it?” She placed one of her hands on your chest over your heart.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

She placed her hands around your neck and pulled you in for another kiss. “I love you too. What’s for dessert?”

As was the same with the meals, there were three options for dessert. The first, cannoli. The delicate, shatteringly crisp exterior of the crispy shell gives way to a slightly chewy, tender interior in a symphony of textures. It resembles a golden, edible treasure chest that is filled with sweet riches.

The filling is a masterpiece of creaminess and is typically made of a velvety ricotta cheese mixture. It has a luxurious dairy richness that envelops your taste buds in a comforting embrace. It is smooth, luscious, and slightly tangy.

There is a lot of sweetness, but it’s never overbearing; rather, it’s perfectly balanced. Due to the inclusion of ingredients like tiny chocolate chips, candied fruit, or chopped nuts, the ricotta filling is frequently punctuated by flavorful explosions on a small scale. Each bite is a harmonious fusion of textures and tastes thanks to the addition of these delightful contrasts.

The cannoli is covered in powdered sugar, which adds an ethereal sweetness to go with the creamy filling. It adds sweetness in a subtle way without overpowering the overall experience.

These components work together to produce a dessert that is both indulgent and delicate, providing a sensory experience that is both texturally fascinating and flavorfully exquisite.

Aurora took a bite and was so surprised at the crunchiness, she made a sweet little noise. Her hand came up to catch as many of the crumbs as she could but quite a few had found their way to the floor.

“Cannoli!” She said immediately, her mouth still full of cannoli. “How would I not know your favourite dessert?”

“Honestly, I put this in just in case you didn’t know the rest of the dishes.”

She hit you. “Give me another bite of that, baby.”

You fed her another mouthful of cannoli, gulping at the sight of her. Her lips wrapped around it obscenely, in a way you only saw when she was on her knees taking your strap. She lifted her head to better reach the dessert you’d unintentionally held just out of reach, exposing her soft, beautiful neck in the process. You chastised yourself for perving on her while she was eating, but it had been so long since you last saw her you were almost experiencing withdrawal. And the little noises of delicious approval she gave you were going into your ears and shooting straight down to your cunt. You couldn’t help it. When she’d finished her dessert, she took your fingers into her mouth to lick off the remaining ricotta. She had to have known what she was doing, surely?

“What’s next?”

You shook your head and closed your mouth, pulling yourself out of the horny trance you were just in.

The penultimate dish, tiramisu: a beloved Italian dessert known for its luscious layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone cheese. It’s delicately flavored with cocoa powder and sometimes a touch of liquor like rum or coffee liqueur. The mascarpone cheese layer offers a velvety, luscious embrace that is both delicate and indulgent, and the first spoonful is a revelation of rich, creamy decadence.

As they yield to your fork with a soft, sponge-like tenderness and release an espresso-infused essence that is both bold and mellow, like a warm, comforting hug, the coffee-soaked ladyfingers offer a satisfying contrast.

The dessert’s surface is flecked with cocoa powder, which adds a bittersweet, earthy flavour that harmonises beautifully with the mascarpone’s sweet creaminess and the coffee’s warmth.

An understated alcoholic kick, frequently from rum or coffee liqueur, adds a level of complexity and gives the dessert a chic, boozy undertone that dances on your palate.

The bitterness of the coffee and cocoa provides a well-balanced counterpoint that keeps the overall taste experience from becoming overly sweet. It is a dessert that achieves perfect harmony, much like a well-balanced symphony.

The noise she made when she took that bite was downright lewd in your overstimulated brain. It was a deep, gutteral moan akin to the noise she makes when your lips wrap around her for the first time that night. Her tongue escaped to mop up the leftover mascarpone and cocoa powder and you felt your breathing get heavier. Your mouth was open, almost drooling at the sight of her enjoying the food you cooked, your mind filling with completely sinful thoughts to the point you could barely think of anything else. Your hairs stood on end, goosebumps decorated your skin, and your eyes were watery where you’d not blinked in who knew how long. “Tiramisu.” She whispered. “My favourite.”

“Fuck, Aurora.”

“Last one. Quickly.”

The final dish: Panna Cotta. Meaning “cooked cream” in Italian, it’s a smooth and silky dessert made by simmering cream, sugar, and gelatin. The result is a delicate custard-like dessert with a subtly sweet, creamy flavor. Panna cotta is often served with a fruit coulis or caramel sauce on top for added flavor and elegance.

Each spoonful glides across the tongue with a velvety, melt-in-your-mouth sensation that is incredibly smooth and opulent, giving off an initial impression of silkiness.

The flavour is delicately sweet, like a delicate caress of sweetness, letting the cream shine in all of its pure splendour. It has a tinge of vanilla that adds a warm, fragrant embrace that improves the overall experience.

The texture is ethereal, as though a cloud had transformed into a sweet. With each delicate bite, it dissolves easily because it is tender but firm enough to hold its shape.

Her lips were stained with the red of the fruit coulis when she took her final bite and that was when the last thread of sanity inside of you snapped and exploded without your permission or desire to. You stood from your seat, throwing the cutlery down on the table and spread her legs so you could stand between them. Your hands cupped her cheek and rested on her arm as you leaned down and licked the coulis away from her top lip, the strawberry flavour tingling your tongue and earning you a moan. The hand that rested on her arm moved upwards to untie the blindfold as your tongue gained entrance to her mouth in a heated kiss, the taste of the panna cotta now registering on your tastebuds and making your girlfriend even more delicious than usual.

Being the tiny thing she was and weighing next to nothing, you picked her up off the stool and placed her on the table without breaking the kiss, your hands beginning to roam around her clothed body. The frustration you felt when you realised she was still wearing her Ghoul uniform was severe. You needed her naked. You needed her easily accessible. You just needed her.

Her waistcoat was the first to get removed and thrown somewhere into the darkness, followed by her black shirt that you all but ripped open. She squealed into the kiss, but didn’t protest, her own hands coming to remove your clothes as best as she could with you being feral in front of her. You unclasped her bra, uncaring which one she was wearing or even what the colour was and launched that across the kitchen too. Your hands worked at her jeans, ripping them from her body in desperation to get at her core. She was left only in her panties.

Your lips moved from hers, down her jaw and to that sweet spot at the crook of her neck, and revelled in the gasp she released when she felt your tongue licking and sucking a hickey into her skin. “Oh my… God!”

You kissed down to her nipple and sucked it into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the soft bud and alternating between sucking, licking and biting. Every time you bit her, her hips bucked upwards, her cunt searching for stimulation. Your newly spit-soaked fingers dipped into her panties, black lace - her bra must have been too, and began stroking her clit as soon as you reached it. Another gasp was taken from her, followed by a pornographic, “Yes!” Fingers dug into your biceps as she fought to keep herself grounded.

You released her nipple from your mouth and moved up to her lips, not kissing her, but so close you could feel her breath on your face. You delighted at the look of anguish on her face as your furiously and roughly rubbed at her most sensitive bundle of nerves, her eyebrows furrowed upwards and nostrils flared as she tried her hardest to breathe through the desperation she felt. Wanton moans tumbled from her open mouth, becoming more and more strangled the faster your fingers moved.

“You didn’t tell me what the final dish was.” You told her in a low voice, almost a growl. You felt her cunt flutter at the sound.

“What?”

“What was the last thing you ate, princess?”

“Fuck! I don’t know.”

“You have to tell me otherwise you don’t get to cum.”

“Fucking hell! ___, please!”

“What did you eat last?”

“Flan!”

“No, baby, that’s Spanish.” You inserted two fingers inside her and she released a scream when you tapped up. “Try again.”

“Fuck! I don’t know. Blancmange?”

This time you laughed at her; taunting her as you relentlessly hit her g-spot over and over again. “You know blancmange but you don’t know what you just ate?”

“Your fingers weren’t inside me when you fed me!”

Your free hand reached back over and picked up the spoon and small glass of panna cotta, shoving them both into her empty hands. “Have another taste now that my fingers are inside you.”

“Fuck!”

You backed your head up a little bit to watch her dip the spoon in the glass. Her tongue came out to steady the spoon as her hand was shaking from the pleasure until finally the spoonful of the dessert had disappeared down her waiting throat. She let out another whine at the taste then placed the glass down next to her. “Panna cotta!”

“Good girl!”

There was still a small amount of liquified and melted sorbet left in one of the coupes on the table, and so your brain did perhaps the most obvious thing once it comprehended what your eyes had announced. Your free hand wrapped around the stem and poured it onto her clavicle, wasting no time in licking it back up off of her, sucking until another hickey formed.

“Shit! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me.”

You felt her tighten around your fingers and pulsate as her orgasm hit her, her mouth hung open in a silent scream and gasping for her lungs to start working again. As usual, you continued to provide stimulation until her orgasm had completely ended, and her brain had begun working again and she peppered your face in kisses. “That was incredible!” She said in between pecks. Her hands made their way to your trousers and fiddled with the button to free you as best as she could. “Your turn.”

You, in the desperate need to access your lover’s body, ended up mostly clothed. You were free of your own shirt and undergarments on the top half, but your bottom half had remained untouched the whole time. And so, as soon as your positions were switched and she was standing in front of you, she made light work of the offending garments that blocked her from her goal. As soon as you were completely bare to her, sat on the table and core fully out on display, she spread your legs, pulled up a chair and got herself situated. Rather aptly timed, the sweet tones of Duo des Fleurs began to play over the speakers which made both of you giggle. It seemed ridiculous to have sex with opera in the background as oftentimes the lyrics did not match the situation, but as soon as Aurora’s began her work, you understood it immediately.

She started by giving you faint, gentle pecks to your calves that were timed irregularly so you didn’t know when they would happen. Any exposed flesh she could touch was tenderly caressed by her fingertips, adding yet another layer of sensation to the already gentle touches. Then her lips advanced towards your pubic mound. Before she kissed you, you could feel her breath flowing between your folds, making you shiver in anticipation of her touch. Sweet and soft touches working in tandem with the music echoing throughout the room had you seeing stars without the pleasure even beginning.

You unintentionally screamed out at the first broad, rough lick. However, this was quickly followed by her lips encircling your clit and sucking with as much force as they could, giving you an intense pleasure that bordered on pain. The tip of her tongue continued to work your clit in a variety of directions with her mouth still closed, her movements seeming erratic. Her head moved in all directions as she sucked on your sensitive bud to keep your pleasure as vivacious as possible, your hand still tangled in her beautiful, long hair as she gave you the most delicious pleasure. She continued in this manner for what felt like an eternity. She remained face-first in your core, unyielding and unwilling to stop until you reached your peak, even when your hips bucked and you began using her face for your own pleasure.

All of this was heightened by your surroundings, the location - the fact that anyone could walk in and see you laid bare for your lover in the place you worked. The music that made your head spin in a heavenly manner. Aurora’s tongue and mouth working to make you feel as good as she possibly could, with her fingertips digging into your flesh and rubbing soothing circles. The smell of the desserts, especially with your eyes closed, filled and clouded your senses. You’d seen the pleasure on Aurora’s face when your fingers were deep inside her as she took another bite of panna cotta, and the curiosity got the better of you. You leaned back on the table slightly and reached over to the plate of cannoli, fingers wrapping around the hard shell and bringing it to your lips.

The crunch got Aurora’s attention, but she only smirked as you enjoyed the treat with her lips still attached to you. And the sensation was nothing like you’d experienced before.

Your mouth tingled at the tang of the ricotta, your tastebuds falling under the similar control from the food that Aurora had at your centre. It offered a sensory delight that was both texturally intriguing and flavorfully exquisite; delicate and indulgent. Undoubtedly among the most delicious creations to ever grace the palate, it was a tantalising explosion of flavours. A beautiful composition of crispy, creamy, and sweet components. The combination of the dessert and Aurora treating you like one, had you floating in ecstasy and was quite possibly the most heavenly experience ever created.

Your pleasured moans occasionally harmonised with the music; your eyes rolled back. “Please don’t stop!” You practically whispered as you got ever closer to that edge, her mouth working harder and faster as ever. She knew you’d lose that feeling if she stopped what she was doing, so she didn’t. Instead, she accelerated her movements and increased her fervour and, when you’d swallowed that last bite of cannoli, you allowed yourself to fall, crashing back down to Earth from the heavens as you reached orgasm, your fist tightening in her hair and your eyes squeezed tightly shut, climaxing all over her face. Your mouth opened wide as your back arched and a stream of profanities spilled out. Aurora didn’t stop until you pushed her away.

With her swollen pink lips stained with your cunt, she was unquestionably a sight to behold as she emerged from your wetness. She sat up to get closer to your lips with a knowing smile on her face and a giggle in her throat. You pulled her in for a passionate kiss, overwhelmed by the incredible orgasm you’d just had, her thumbs continue to caress your thighs. “That was amazing, wasn’t it?” She asked, a bright smile on her face.

“We need to do that more often, holy shit!” You agreed.

“You know, I thought those cannolis were exceptional. Didn’t realise they’d be orgasmic though.”

You kissed her again. “You fucking idiot.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” You sighed. “The food’s gone cold.”

“We have a microwave.”

“Ugh, heathen! I’m starving.”

“What, that cannoli wasn’t filling enough?”

“I’m actually going to break up with you.”

She kissed you. “Come on, let’s get dressed and get some food.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[kneelingshadowsalome]

könig being a fixer AND autistic?!

no but seriously, it makes sense, and i kinda dig it for all the wrong reasons. IMAGINE engel being just as autistic as him but being in ruins! she has a no job, she hates her life, she’s always horny because she get no dick, and she has no one to be passionate with because she’s always isolated in her own little world, and könig is just standing there, staring at her like “ahh~ my ideal type!”. and they both may be walking red flags but engel is seeing nothing but green for this man because of how willing he is to just breathe next to her, and for her, that’s more than enough to get with him. plus she can be dependent on him and könig can take care of her, so it’s a win-win situation.

ugh i love two toxic people being toxic together and supporting each others toxicity!

Ahh my god I love you & and I love these two nutties!!

And yes I have this hc of König being either autistic or AD/HD (these two actually share traits). Social anxiety paired with AD/HD would explain some of his behavior in the field, but autism would explain the social awkwardness...? Contrary to the popular belief autistic people actually feel very deeply (ty very much 💋), they may have difficulties in expressing emotion but inside there’s like a well of it – I think it would fit perfectly in König’s psychological profile as this socially handicapped individual with an intense persona.

Also - and this is just my take - social anxiety in König’s case doesn't make him a shy "Don’t bully me I’ll cum" sub (love that shirt btw). It makes him want to kill every other person in the room because they suck and make his chest feel tight...? People who have been severely bullied often experience blinding rage; they don’t necessarily turn into shy, demure individuals. I would dress König in a "Don’t bully me I’ll shoot you" shirt 👀

What I absolutely love about your adorable imagine is the Engel in ruins bit. These two have so much love-starved loner energy that of course they notice each other from miles away and fall in love instantly! And two autistic people being intense and passionate with each other, I literally can't 😭❤️‍🔥 throw red flags all over the place too and you get the love story of the century, right? Other people may see the relationship as cringe and unhealthy, but who the hell cares – not them, because no one sees the world like they do. After all, they are the ones who are normal in a sick world.

[venerawrites]

HEY HEY! bro I can't believe ur back and holy hell ur SOOO fun to read I wish I had friends like u to brainstorm with im so serious rn 🙏🏻 but in ANYHOW

Can I please please get your thoughts on how the Uchiha brothers, Neji, Sai and/or Gaara I don't know how many u accept but if it's too much then just do whoever u feel like🤝 act when drunk?! it's cool if u wanna add already in a relationship/existing feelings with the reader too

thaaaaank uuuuuu!!!!!!

author's note: I usually accept only 4 characters per request, so I excluded Gaara this time, hope that's okay <3 Also I've read a while ago that there are apparently 4 types of drunks, so it worked out perfectly! I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for requesting! x

➤ Itachi - "The Nutty Professor"

Every time Itachi drinks, it's like a completely another person emerge on the surface.

While he is usually pretty quiet and reserved when sober, he would be way more confident and loud when drunk.

He would totally be dominating every conversation in the table and set the tone of the 'party'.

I see him as someone who is very likely to get philosophical when drunk - he needs only a few drinks in order to start discussing the human nature and its connection to inflicting violence, the society structure and how 'good' and 'evil' are perceived.

Often this comes out in the form of a long monologue, which only half of the people are actively listening.

If with his s/o, he would be way more affectionate than usual. He would have his hand around their shoulders or caressing their thigh, and openly admitting how much they appreciate their presence in his life.

I don't imagine him as the type to get blackout drunk though. Despite being more relaxed and energetic, he would still have enough consciousness to be able to pay attention to everyone on the table and make sure that everyone is okay.

(must be that big brother energy, idk)

➤ Sasuke - "Mr. Hyde"

I wasn't sure in the beginning if Sasuke is proper 'Mr.Hyde' type of drunk, but from all the types I think this one suits him best.

Sasuke, in my opinion, doesn't like drinking. Like at all. Yet if everyone else does it when they are out, he does it too (no matter how many times he promise he won't drink anymore).

Becomes more moody and irritable than usual. If he is quite alright with holding back his annoyance when sober, all restrictions would be forgotten after 2 or 3 drinks.

Likely to pick up verbal fights, especially with someone like Naruto or Kiba. An inappropriate joke or a comment, especially if it is toward his s/o, is more than enough to set him on.

May get a bit snarky and deliberately trying to provoke people around him. I think he will definitely take jabs at people that somehow wronged him in the past when drunk.

If his s/o is with him, they would need to be his 'carer' - watch how much he is drinking and try to diffuse any uncomfortable situation that arises.

If they are not with him, this is usually done by either Sakura or Naruto (how well Sasuke takes that, however, really depends on what and how much he drank).

Wakes up the next morning remembering everything and with a deep regret for his behaviour.

➤ Neji - "The Hemingway"

Surprising (and maybe unpopular?) opinion of mine is that Neji actually can hold his alcohol really well.

Most of the times he has tried alcohol before were in family settings, so he knew well to behave and to draw the line once he feels it's too much.

I also don't see him drinking that much?

So even when he does, there is no dramatic change from how he usually is. He may engage in conversation a little bit more than usual, but other than that he is the same reserved and serious Neji we all know.

He also feel the responsibility to look after his friends/his s/o when they are out together, so this is another reason for him to maintain the majority of his consciousness.

It is unlikely for him to become overly sentimental or emotional, but if he has already consumed more than 3 drinks and he is in the company of his s/o, he may become a bit more relaxed and sometimes even... flirty?

Like not too much (we are still talking about Neji after all), but occasionally he will lean close to his s/o and whisper to them how beautiful they are, how much he loves them etc. (which he never usually does in public!).

Definitely the guy in charge of getting everyone else home safely!

➤ Sai - "The Mary Poppins"

Okay, maybe not a real "Mary Poppins" type, but still the 'best type' of drunk in the whole company!

While he is not particularly shy when sober, once he has a few drinks he is definitely more cheerful and friendlier (at least as much as Sai can be).

One thing that remains is his bluntness - if he has no filter in general, once drunk he would say ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING that is on his mind (no matter how good or bad).

The type of guy that would raise a toast every ten minutes - for good friendships; for true love; for peaceful times; for ninja's life etc.

This would be the only time he feels comfortable enough to tell all the jokes he has learned recently as well. The delivery would probably be 1/10, but the effort - 10/10.

If out with his s/o and they drink too much, he would be the one looking out for them - he would hold their hair in the toilet while rubbing small circles on their back; he would bring them glasses of water between drinks etc.

His mind would still be sharp as ever, so he is likely to engage in friendly debates or long discussions about history/politics.

Would get sick if he drinks more than 5/6 drinks.

cc artwork: "Stray" Concept Art

[chryblossomjjk]

bts fic recommendations | 01.17.23

→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs

motor head - @jeonjcngkook (jjk x reader | fwb, angst, smut, pwp)

summary: jungkook doesn’t like seeing someone else have your attention, so he decides he’s gonna do something about it.

feel like ive been here since the conception of this majesty?? like i was here for the horny discord chats n edits about motorcycle jk, therefore, it's only fair that i can gatekeeper him... mine. ALSO NOT U STARTING IT OFF W GETTING SANDWICHED BETWEEN MY BIAS N BIAS WRECKER?? THE DISRESPECT OF IT ALL!!!

^the feminism leaving my body when sav writes about jk manhandling oc n having her use his bike as a vibrator

^^me regaining the feminism when she whips a whole tape measure at him theme shits is HEAVY LMAO

also like... your brain w this fucking smut bro?!?! it's literally one of the hottest smuts ive read in a v v v long fucking time?? THE JUMPER CABLE HANDCUFFS LIKE GTFO??? SHAKESPEAREAN OF SMUT REALLY!! and i completely get where oc is coming from bc some of the things he said had me side eyeing like... repressed feelings maybe? but then is he just super possessive and his anger/hurt came from ego n not emotions... genuinely love when the characters are hard to read like thats everything. n she better fuck taehyung >:( BUT RUN DONT WALK TO READ THIS UGH IT WAS SO GOOD BBY LIKE NO WONDER SHE WAS DOING ROUNDS IN THE TAGS!!!!!!!

tales of broken hearts - @taegularities (kth x reader | ex2l, childhood sweethearts, fluff, angst, smut)

summary: when a work trip brings you back home, you don't expect for anyone to await your return or remember you. but despite the time apart, taehyung still does - still looks at you the same way he used to five winters ago.

rid, im not joking when i say this is everything i want in a fanfic. like ex2l always gets me, and you legit mastered it with this one. something about right person wrong time just does it for me. that opening line was so simple but so so so beautiful:

"Love doesn't bloom during frigid winters."

and your ability to fully write in the pov of the character that you've crafted is nutty. like on the outside, it seems like a simple thing to do, but ik from experience that it's really not. like the way you perfectly represented oc's bleakness in the beginning through the word choices, that only shifts when taehyung is being discussed, is a1 storytelling. and same with him, like even when things are falling apart, the metaphor compares oc to a star, n that's how he sees her despite the circumstances. IM EMOTIONAL!!!

and idk dude i think i feel so strongly about this piece bc i relate to this oc sooo much. like the way ur desire to get out of ur current situation bleeds into every aspect of ur life n ruins relationships n u end up even worse than u started off in a lot of ways- NOT THIS FIC BEING A WHOLE HIT PIECE RID LMAO >:(

they deserve eachother sm and oc deserves a happy easy love and THE ROUNDABOUT MOMENT IN THE END LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME I LOVE WHEN EVERYTHING TIES IN AND UGH I FUCKING CAN'T THIS WAS A MASTERPIECE LIKE I NEED TO SEE THIS ON FILM BBY THE BIG SCREEN!!!!!!!

posting this a lil early but who gaf :')

[stonecrusherdrawsthearts]

World of Heroes R - X-Force

Ohaiyo, Dudes, Dudettes, and Genders that don't identify with Dude! The name's Deadpool, and this is X-Force. We're a group of highly trained mercenaries dedicated to getting the job done by any means necessary. Don't be surprised if the situation gets crazy, because that's where we get shit done!

MEMBERS

Deadpool - The team leader and the Merc with the Mouth! I used to be just another troublemaker on the street until I got my cancer diagnosis, and my dear old brother Slade (or are we calling him Deathstroke here) chipped in to give me an experimental treatment. The treatment didn't just make it so I could survive the cancer or whatever else life threw my way (mostly knives and guns) but it opened my mind to the secrets of the universe. And I'll admit, I got a little... nutty as a result. But hey, these guys trust me enough!

Domino - One of the first to join X-Force, a girl with a bit of vitilago going on that is extremely lucky. While I personally don't believe in luck as a superpower or even a concept, she does have a habit of surviving the odds with barely a scratch, and things do tend to work out her way. So maybe... yeah, no, Luck's a myth made by society to cope with the fact that sometimes you screw up.

Wolverine - Okay, I can explain. This guy ISN'T the same Wolverine that works with the X-Men, but rather a transdimensional duplicate brought here from a universe where the missions of the X-Men didn't have quite the positive impact they did here. He's been through some shit as a result, but the fact that he's here means he has a chance to remake a name for himself. Of course there is the complication that there are now two Wolverines running around, but hey. At least this one doesn't have to worry about taxes.

Shatterstar - Another of the first to join X-Force, Shatterstar claims to have come from an alien world and was one of its greatest warriors. Personally, I think this guy heard about the Kryptonians or Tamaraneans and decided to ape their choices to stand out. No judgement, just... what kind of a name is "Mojoworld"?

Colossus - Technically an X-Man I had regular encounters with, Colossus and I have become friends through the classic method of "we fight each other enough that we just kinda stumbled into a casual relationship." Sure, you look at the guy, you see a big hulking mass of metal in the shape of a man, and think "Oh, this guy must be brutal." And he is, but he often tries to excuse his own shortcomings by going on about what makes people heroes.

Negasonic Teenage Warhead - The one X-Man I can say is cooler than Wolverine on name brand alone. Sure, it's attached to a college student who never quite grew out of her emo punk-rock phase, but her energy manipulation powers make it fit like nobody's business. Y'gotta respect a girl who fits her brand no matter how little she respects you back.

Yukio - Negasonic's girlfriend, electrokinetic extraordinaire, and all-around sweetheart. I think she's probably the most chill person I have ever met, always facing everything, even my bullshit, with a smile on her face and a pep in her step. She's the kind of girl I know I'll always appreciate on my side, even if she dresses like a substitute soul reaper on the mission. Wolverine's a little more cautious of her for some reason, but I don't wanna pry.

[doueverwonder]

hi hi :D! any wtt indiana thoughts to share?

I DO ACTUALLY-

so I've lived in Indiana right on the Illinois border since I was tiny, so ofc I have been pondering Indiana and Illinois' relationship a lot the past couple weeks even if I haven't been talking about it lol

They're siblings in my mind (well really the entire Midwest great lakes are siblings but that's a post for another day); their statehood days are almost exactly 2 years apart, December 11th, 1816, and December 3rd, 1818. But same as I say with Hetalia up against centuries a couple years is nothing, so they might as well be twins.

I think they were very close for most of their lives, but the breakdown of their relationship was definitely in the making for a long time. you see imo when Indiana was younger he wanted to be important, desperately so, would have done anything to be important. Indianapolis, the state capital, is modeled after DC. It's planned to be a major transport hub, and even after they find out the White River is too shallow for that the city keeps growing. and he's doing everything in how power to move it along, got that good old 'pull myself up by my bootstraps' 'if i work hard enough i'll get what i want' mentality and then looks over and Chicago in the fastest growing city in human history (literally) and Illinois doesn't even seem to be trying. In fact, he's upset about it. doesn't like Chicago.

And Indiana is horribly jealous, it drives him up the wall that he wanted to be important so badly and Illinois is the one getting the recognition he wants and can't even be grateful about it. Between 1870-1900 is when everything really falls apart, during the height of Chicago's growth, other states start paying attention to Illinois, Gov starts paying attention to Illinois. Indiana gets shoved into his little brothers shadow and I'm not going to say Illinois didn't do anything, because while he might not like Chicago he doesn't mind the extra attention and a seat closer to the head of the table. It also really doesn't help that Illinois doesn't realize how jealous Indiana is and *trying* to joke says things about getting what Indy always wanted, and it gets taken as mocking. Indiana gets cold towards him, and Illinois just reciprocate instead of asking why they grew apart.

and that runs into their current-ish relationship, "Illinois is just full of corrupt politicians" "well Indiana is nothing but backwards rednecks"; in their eyes they couldn't be less alike but they're still seen as extremely similar to a lot of other states and it drives them both more then a little nutty + drives their need to make as many back-handed comments about how different they are as often and as publicly as possible.

anyway:

tldr; Indiana wanted to be important, Illinois got the attention he wanted he got jealous and distant, Illinois can't communicate emotions and never asked why and just started being distant as well. Now they seem to get along to most other states but really are just out here insulting each other as much as possible they're just passive aggressive so no one realizes.

[meteor752]

Who are “the kids”?

My friend, at this point it’s better that you just see for yourself of what’s going on with them than ask for a recap, because whew a lot has happened

But quick rundown, the kids were created when I had the idea of an au where in double life, they didn’t just share their life with their soulmates but also a child. The AU was more about how the couples would be as parents and less about the kids themselves, and their personalities were mostly made to fit fun scenarios

But then people liked that post a lot, and wanted to know more, so here we are

There’s Liana, the Scar + Grian child, who’s a business woman with wings but can’t fly, also she’s half watcher, has lost a foot plus half her eyesight, has heavy trauma from watching her dad die in front of her,is a superhero, and became Pixl’s adopted daughter ish, also her and Jassy are married

There’s Wes, the BDubs + Impulse child, who’s a gentle giant, but more in the way that he’s constantly stressed out, and he has a lot of OCD and anxiety, a bad relationship with both of his dads, a real passion for mining, and is engaged to Jekiv. Their relationship is a whole mess too

There’s Gertrude, the Rendog + BigB child, who’s a pretty chill redstoner with a big passion and love for classic fairytales and princesses, also she’s a werewolf but kept that a secret from her mentor for a while, also she caught her dad cheating when she was like ten, and she wears sunglasses so much that she’s near blind because of the light when she takes them off, and she’s dating Novo

Johnny, the Tango + Jimmy child, who’s like a pure southern country boy, very sweet and kind and friendly, plays the banjo and absolutely adores goats, he had an absolutely awful time after double life ended, and he suffers from major codependency issues to his dads, also he becomes an explorer with his horse Butternut, and he can speak to wardens, and he’s aromantic.

Jassy, the Etho + Joel child, who’s a pun loving ninja with a huge identity problem, has a lot of anime traits including the crazy hair that changes every day, is also a little green in some places because ogre, has a whole arc of figuring out who she was and wanted to be, is a huge horror fan, was a pirate for a while, she has a rough ass relationship with Joel, and she’s married to Liana.

Jekiv, the Cleo + Martyn child, who’s a monotone pastel clad half zombie with more daddy issues than all the bat kids combined, he has a lot of zombie traits that affect his day to day life, he kept a journal after his parents death, he became a necromancer for the heck of it, gore and corpses is his favorite thing in the world apart from frogs, and he’s engaged to Wes.

Novo, the Pearl + Scott child, who’s more nutty that a peanut in a nut factory, used to be a total momma’s boy but now hates both of his parents, loves the aesthetic of running mascara and has been doing it since he was eleven, has an accent that no one can understand, became a bard without being able to play an instrument or sing, and managed to become incredibly rich just by people paying him to shut up and go away, and he’s dating Gertrude.

This does not even cover the Hermitpires thing, the separation arc, the death ending, their many costume alternatives, the villain au, the Sklizzumbo children, Lily the Warden, and a lot more. So just like, check out the #double life fankids tag on my blog, most of it should be found there

[jerzwriter]

So, why is self-love day the hardest day of all? Every year, I see dozens of posts for all the other days - and then it slows rapidly for self-love. Meanwhile, here I am telling people, "Get to it! I want to see your self-love posts," and I'm like, "Oh, shit, that means I should do one!" lol

I'm proudest of venturing into writing for Wake the Dead and Crimes of Passion. I can't wait to write more for both of them in the future.

Wake the Dead is the pleasure of "writing for me" because, while I have a few readers who really enjoyed those works, it's not a popular story/pairing, but I love it. The Eli prequel fics are among my favorites, but I love his story with Zoe, too. I plan to expand on their HC in the near future. One of my favorite Eli x Zoe fics is Comfort & Joy. A bittersweet story that honors all they've been through, while showing what they've brought into each other's lives.

With Crimes of Passion, I have had so much fun getting to know Trytan and Carolina better, and I can't wait to explore their story more. I have loved the angsty/fluffy stories about them in my HC; some favorites are Better This Way, Breathe Again, and "...and you have me." I also enjoyed writing an angsty AU based on what would happen if they didn't stay together in Book 2 called A Moment in Time. The final part of that series will be up in the next couple of weeks.

Back in Open Heart, I'm happy I've written more about my MC Casey's past, particularly her relationship with her ex-girlfriend, Jessica.

But, of all my pairings, Tobias & Casey still have my heart. They really are the OTP for me. I haven't done enough with them recently, and plan on remedying that. I have some angstier outstanding AUs that I want to work on: What's Forever For?, an AU where the divorce (though neither really wanted to) and now they have to figure out how to move forward, By Chance, which is a messy AU where they met and fell hard... but they were too young and god will they screw things up in this messy AU, and I am like a year late at finishing up Where it Goes From Here, god, I suck (wait, that's not self-love! lol)

In my HC for the pair, I'm going to finally show you HOW they got together, and that's my immediate goal. Then I'll explore their future because, honestly, how much longer will we have an OH fandom :(.

Another thing I've loved this year is how much fun they've had with friends! With @lilyoffandoms Ethan and Merida and @storyofmychoices Bryce and Olivia - I need to create a masterlist for this crew! I will, and I will come back and tag it!

Then they went and became besties with @mydemonsdrivealimo's Jensen and Bryce, and I ended up dropping these two nutty, amazing men right into my HC. They need a list too. Shit, I have work to do. lol

They even got to play with @trappedinfanfiction's Ethan x Celia. Tobias & Casey get AROUND, and that's fitting for my babies! lol

In Ethan and Kaycee's land I will be wrapping up A Different Fate, which is my favorite thing that I've done for them in the past year. I got a $40 donation for Anera through Write for Gaza Project, and the donor (who wishes to remain anonymous) asked me to finish this series. I can't think of a better reason to do so!

Also had some fun with some uber-fluff for these two in As Planned, , and I do. Me too.

I introduced Ethan's LI in my T/C wold, Dr. Eva Mendoza, and I will be exploring her more in 2024.

That's all I've got kids - and that's way too much anyway - so we're all good! Now - I want to see yours! :)

@choicesfandomappreciation