#Does it need to be brought up again? also yes

[nakylvr]

— BACK TO ME

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary જ⁀➴ after an argument breaks out and hurtful things are thrown, you leave for a few days, and daniela realizes just how much she needs you

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ angst with happy ending, language, established relationship, dealer!dani au, arguments

now playing જ⁀➴ back to me by the rose

things had been straining recently. with tax season coming up you spent most of your days after work trying to figure out how to not get completely fucked over and get a ton of money taken out. you also got promoted at your job, which was both a blessing and a curse. more money was always a good thing, but your patience was already wearing thin when the argument started.

you had just gotten home, wanting nothing more than to relax when you realized daniela wasn't in the apartment. too tired, you shrug it off and lay down on the couch, still in your work clothes, not bothering to change. you ended up falling asleep faster than you anticipated.

when the front door opened, it was dark outside. you could hear it, but you couldn't find it in you to get up.

"yn?" daniela's voice is heard quietly. "what are you doing on the couch?"

you hum, opening your eyes groggily and looking up at her. "where were you?" you mumble.

"had to run out real quick," she answers. "come on, let's go to bed."

"for hours?" you say before you can think.

daniela's expression changes at your words, but you don't notice past the dark in the room. "i needed to do some stuff," she responds. "i'm sorry." she doesn't know why she's saying it. most likely out of fear that this conversation will spiral out of control after all the bullshit that happened earlier in the year. she doesn't want a fight right now, and she's trying to keep it from happening.

"who were you with?" you ask, slowly sitting up.

"minji," daniela answers truthfully. "she needed some help getting a gift for hanni, then she came with me for a deal that i had to do on the way back."

your eyebrows furrowed together, looking back at her. "you let her go along with you?" you inquired.

"yeah?" dani replies, but it comes out unsure. "i knew you were getting off work late and i didn't want to bother you."

"but you let minji go with you?" you press. "you told me i was the only one."

"well, yes. but minji's my close friend, i–"

"didn't see anything wrong with it?" you cut her off. "cause it looks a little weird when all your clients know me and then you show up with some other girl that's not me? let me guess, you saw keeho?"

"how did you–" daniela gets cut off again by you talking over her.

"he texted me," you tell her. "asking, and i quote 'who this random chick' is with you instead of me. so it's not just me thinking i'm crazy."

"i didn't say you were crazy," daniela quickly says, shaking her head. "baby, please, this isn't that serious. you know minji."

"but other people don't," you respond. "what if it wasn't keeho?"

"i-" daniela stops herself, taking a breath. "this is the only time i've brought someone other than you."

"but why?" you stand up from the couch, making daniela take a few steps backwards. "you're the one who tells me that you don't let anyone go because you don't want them to see, but minji is just a different story or something?"

"it's one time!" daniela says, her voice raising slightly. "why does it matter?"

"why does it matter?" you repeat. "you tell me, daniela. you tell me." you cross your arms over your chest.

daniela is quiet for a minute, trying to think of the right thing to say to not upset you more. "i know what you're thinking, but this isn't a big deal. i let her come along because it was keeho. nothing else, no other reason," she tells you. "i promise."

"not a big deal, you keep saying that," your voice turns sharp. "what's not a big deal? that i'm reasonably concerned when you're out hours past when i got back and tell me you were doing some stuff, helping minji get a gift for hanni, and do a deal? because those are multiple different answers."

"oh my god," daniela mumbles, looking around before back at you. "yn, seriously, it's nothing."

"give me your phone," you demand.

"what?" she looks at you confused.

"consider this a phone check. give it to me." you hold your hand out.

"you're serious?" daniela asks. when you don't answer, just stare at her, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and hands it to you. "jesus christ," she grumbles under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

looking through the recent messages, your fingers hover over one specifically, and when you glance up from the phone to look at daniela, she feels her heart drop to her stomach at the expression on your face.

"so what? you have clients wanting to get you shit for valentines day? is that the excuse you're going to give?" you say seriously, tilting your head to the side.

"what?" daniela lets out. "no one has–"

"what's this about then?" you hold the phone towards her, showing a thread of messages.

"that's jaehyun!" daniela exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "he's my friend!"

"and you know i don't like how close he is with you!" you retort, your voice raising. "every time we go to his place it's like i don't even exist! he's obviously hitting on you!"

"he literally isn't! he's gay!" daniela scoffs, shaking her head. "plus, he literally has a boyfriend!"

"well that didn't stop you the first time, did it?" the words come out faster than you could think.

"right," daniela scoffs again, nodding her head. "right, because it's always my fault, isn't it? i'm always the one fucking up, right?"

"yeah!" you nod. "you're the one who says you can pull anyone, and then you act like i'm fucking crazy when people are all over you and i don't like it! like it's not right for me to feel upset even though i'm your girlfriend!"

"i've never called you crazy! when have i once said that?!" daniela's voice starts getting louder, nearing the edge of yelling.

"but you look at me like it!" you end up yelling first. "like-like it's a problem that i get jealous! you're allowed to have your hands all over me when i'm with my friends when you're jealous but when you have three different girls who give you thousands of dollars each month all over you it's weird when i get defensive and jealous!? that's not fair, daniela!"

"so what? i'm supposed to just sit there while girls eye-fuck you or try to get all close?!" daniela retorts. "you don't even know! you're so fuckin' naive that you think everyone just wants to be friends!"

"naive? i'm naive?" you let out a laugh, shaking your head. "right, sorry for being nice enough to make friends who don't just want to fuck me for some shit!"

"they still want to fuck you!" daniela yells. "look at sophia! you ran to her when shit got hard and look what happened! who's telling me that you won't go run off to some other 'friend' of yours only for them to fuck you while you were still mine!"

you stop once sophia's name is spoken. daniela knew better than to bring her up after the events that happened, knowing how much you regretted your stupid decision and how bad you felt about it afterwards. but in the heat of the argument, the second the words leave daniela's mouth you're standing there in silence.

"you know what," you eventually speak up. "maybe i will."

"will what?" daniela asks, seemingly not realizing what she said and how you took it.

you shake your head, letting out a scoff. you toss her phone on the couch and walk into the bedroom, not saying another word.

"yn?" daniela sighs. "yn! what are you doing?"

a few minutes later you walk back out with a bag in your hands, making daniela's eyes go wide.

"what're you doing?" she asks.

"i'm going to jungwon's for the night," you answer simply. "or, the rest of the night, i guess."

"what?" daniela looks at you confused. "why?"

you stare at her with a deadpan expression, waiting to see if she'll notice what she said. when she clearly doesn't, you shake your head again. "because he's a friend who won't fuck me while i'm still yours. those are your words," you tell her before starting to walk to the front door.

your words make daniela realize what she said, and she immediately starts following after you to the door. "yn? yn, baby, don't be like this! i didn't mean to bring her up!"

"but you did." you swiftly turn around, causing her to abruptly stop. "you did even though we talked about it and you knew how fucked up i felt afterwards. but if this is what comes out of your mouth when we argue, then i know you're still pissed about it. so, i'm leaving for the night, or maybe a few days, i don't know." you shrug. "i know i fucked up with what i did. i regret it. but you told me it was okay. when apparently it isn't if you're bringing it up. so while i'm gone, you think about what you want, daniela. because you are on thin ice, and it's cracking. so figure it the fuck out."

you leave the apartment before daniela can get a word out, the door slamming behind you echoing through the place. she stands there for a few minutes, waiting to hear you come back, but you never do.

"god damnit," she sighs, dragging her hands over her face.

the whole remainder of the night daniela kept texting you, telling you to come back, that she was sorry and didn't mean it. but, that's how she always was whenever you two fought. and you were tired of everything right now.

when you got to jungwon's, he was surprised to see you, but when you explained the situation he immediately brought you inside and talked with you about the whole thing. he was always good with comforting others and advice. plus, he could tell you were straining yourself recently.

while daniela sat inside the apartment, moping around waiting for you to come back, still texting you as the day passed and you didn't return or respond. she knew you were upset with what she said, that was obvious. and she couldn't lie and say that the event didn't gnaw at her every fiber since she found out, even if sophia got what she deserved in the end, because it did. she knew it shouldn't. that it was a moment of vulnerability for you, that you had no one else to go to. it all spirals back to her regretting what she did in the first place to start it all.

for the whole day daniela thought of what to do, how to fix this. she sat on the couch for hours thinking of what will make you not mad at her anymore. when she got an idea.

it was day three and you still weren't responding, so daniela took matters into her own hands and texting jungwon asking if you were there. he answered truthfully, saying that he wanted her to figure it out with you so he was trying to help the most he could. so she drove over to his place.

standing in front of the door, daniela shifts her weight from one foot to the other anxiously, biting her lip in hopes that this would work. the door opens and jungwon is revealed, who smiles at her.

"hey, dani," he says. "she's in the guest room."

"thanks," daniela replies, walking past him when he opens the door wider for her.

approaching the guest room, daniela knocks on the door a few times, hearing you hum on the other end. she slowly opens the door, making you turn and see it was her. your expression hardens, and dani notices, knowing she's still in deep shit.

"hey," she says awkwardly, pulling the flowers from behind her back. "i got you these." she holds them out, looking at the ground.

you can't help the way your eyes soften at the tone in her voice, quiet and hesitant compared to the confident loudness you were used to. she looks like a kicked puppy staring at the ground, and you let out a short sigh before getting off the bed, walking over to her and taking the bouquet from her.

"i'm sorry for what i said," daniela mumbles. "i didn't mean to say it i just...i still think about it sometimes and i don't know why. i know you didn't do it to hurt me on purpose but sometimes i...i worry that you're going to leave once you realize i'm not the best for you."

her words shock you as she still stares at the ground, finally speaking the thoughts that had been eating her up inside. "dani..."

"i-i know i'm not the best," she quickly adds. "i know you can find someone who will treat you better like it's nothing. but i don't– i can't lose you. i love you so much, so fucking much, and it scares me so much when we fight because i know every time it's another tick gone and that eventually you'll get tired of me and leave. i don't want you to leave. we fight, we have our ups and downs, but you always stay. you always stay and i know one day y-you won't." daniela's voice cracks at the end, tears filling her eyes the longer she talks. "i'm sorry." a few tears fall.

carefully setting the flowers on the bed, you take another step towards her and cup her face in your hands, making her look at you finally. "it's okay," you tell her softly. "you're right, i always stay. i always stay because i love you. i wouldn't if i didn't. dani, i don't think you know that you are the best relationship i've had. all of the other ones ended like shit. you prove to me time and time again that even if you fuck up, you own up to it and you don't run away. i won't ever get tired of you, i promise." you wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. "i love you, and i love the flowers. you always know what to get me."

"i try," daniela responds quietly, nodding slightly.

"i know." you nod. "and i love that about you." you lean in, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

parting from the kiss, daniela's arms snake around your waist and pull you close to her as she puts her face in the crook of your neck. "i love you," she murmurs against your skin.

"i love you too," you reply, petting her head gently.

[ready-to-read7]

Prompt #11

Okay I have recently discovered the wonders that is the creepy Vlad misunderstandings teen dad Danny  whatever, I don’t know if there is a proper name for it or not but anyway I also like the idea of Constantine being Danny’s dad) (also I do not believe that Mattie would  cheat  on Jack so I’m going to say something else happened ) ( also to make this more dramatic say Danny is trans,) ( also I know this would not  make any sense  but I’m going to say Constantine cannot sense beings from the infinite realms more specifically the ghosts unless he tries very hard so imagine how much more difficult it would be to sense a ½ ghost, so a.k.a. he does not know Danny is half ghost, yet)

 John Constantine had never had kids as far as he believed and knew and if he did they would be like half demon kids that were immediately taken away and  used for something horrible like a sacrifice or something so he never got to watch them grow up or build a connection with them but there was one exception, John Constantine did not really know about the boys existence for the first 10 years of the boys  life but somehow he learned of Danny and despite never interacting with him personally only keeping an eye on him occasionally he felt a connection one  sided connection mostly but a connection, he would never admit it but he loved his son

So imagine his shock and absolute rage when he finds his son beaten, bloodied and clutching his stomach/chest like it was his last life line. John had not checked up on his son in slightly over two years last time he came to check on his son it was a few days after his 14th birthday ( a.k.a. before the accident) because things became too busy.

So John  would immediately take him to the house of mysteries to heal him and one of his cursed/possessed/living objects told john  that there was more than one person that he brought into the house, John will be confused by this and would then use a bit of magic to search for the other person only to realize that the other person was a baby inside of his son.

John obviously knew his son was trance and he really did not care, Once again he would never admit it but he loved him and based on the amount of bruising cuts and probably a few other things John Constantine would come to the conclusion that his son was assaulted and this would truly make his blood boil.

(what actually happened was Elly was destabilizing and she needed to be incubated to save her life so Danny took her core into himself and because she is still technically have human a small body started forming inside of him making him technically pregnant, but due to his parents figuring out about his ghost half and not having a very good reaction to it they captured him and kind of tortured him they didn’t get to a vivisection yet because he was too scared they would destroy Ellys core, so he used his remaining power to create an explosion of some kind and escape and then pass out a couple few kilometres away from town.)

After Danny woke up John would explain who he was and that Danny was now safe, obviously his life would be a bit weird now but John would try his best to protect him.

John  would obviously ask Danny if he wants to keep the baby and Danny would say yes, and John would leave it at that not really happy that his son will have to become a teen dad but he wasn’t going to push it.

[squishygirl46]

Hi everyone, this is a story about my deepest fantasies and dreams. It will be written about me Let me know if you like it. Part one: the beginning.

God, I don't know where I am, some man left a camera in the room and said I had to speak my mind on it or I would be killed. The last thing I remember is leaving the house to go to the store. Now I'm here and I don't know what's going on, I'm so scared….. There's only one dim lamp in this room, a big bed, a toilet, a speaker on the wall and a door. I'm probably going to be killed or raped, I don't know, I'm so scared. Suddenly a masked man came into the room, carrying a scale and a camera.

- Hi said: Get on the scale and take off your clothes. I obediently did everything he ordered. Completely naked I stood on the scale which said 45 kilograms(99 pounds). -You're skinny, now stand against the wall and turn sideways. I went to the wall and turned around, then he told me to stand in front of him and he was taking pictures. What a shame… But I can't help it, I'm so scared. After this strange photo shoot and weighing, the man left. I don't know how much time had passed, but I was very hungry. Luckily the man came back soon and brought a huge tray of food on a gurney. Fried chicken, potatoes, meat pies, pancakes, brownies and cake. There were also several bottles of soda and some pills.

-Whoa, why so much food, I can't eat that much. -No one's asking you. He told me to take two pills and a soda. After I drank them he left and closed the door behind him. I started eating and as usual I got full very quickly, literally after a couple wings my little tummy was full and I laid down to rest and fell asleep, I don't know how long I slept but after I woke up the food was still there and I was very very very hungry…. I started eating again. A few wings, then a brownie, washed it all down with soda, then wings again, then potatoes and then soda again… I could feel my stomach filling up, but the hunger didn't go away, and only after 30 minutes of eating and stopped for breath…. -Oh, God, what was that just now? -Ufff. I mumbled. I looked at the tray, it was covered in leftovers. I put my head down and saw that my stomach was protruding very much, as if I had been inflated like a car tire…. And it was so hard. I was very thin and this protuberance really stood out. I laid back on the bed and dozed off….. When I woke up, the tray was gone, but on the wall were my pictures and a graph with my weight written on it. God, what does that mean, am I being fattened up? I've always worked hard on my figure, I don't want to be fat, I need to exercise to burn off the calories from that gluttony. I got out of bed and started doing exercises, 50 squats, 10 push-ups and 50 abs, then I rested and did them again.

-Fuuuuh, now we can have a little snack, as long as we don't eat too much. Right after these words, this man came in again with a tray, this time there were mountains of fast food, 5 big burgers, a bucket of fries, wings, nuggets, and 2 bottles of coke. -Oh my god, I'm not allowed to eat that, I've always avoided fast food in my life-. But the man silently handed me two pills. -No, I won't take them, they make me unable to stop eating! In response to these words, he just took them and put them in my mouth, then clamped my nose and poured cola into my mouth, I had to swallow them…. -Good appetite- he said and left. I decided that a little fast food wouldn't hurt my figure, especially if I kept doing exercises, or even more exercises, yes, it wouldn't hurt. I took the smallest burger I could find and took a bite. -God, this is so good,” I said with my mouth full. And a wave of warmth spread through my body. -Yeah, one burger wouldn't hurt me. -Yeah. But I couldn't stop at one, as soon as I finished it I took a Coke to drink, I thought I'd just drink a little bit, but I started gulping it down greedily, like I hadn't had a drink in a year. I only stopped when I had half a bottle. Right after that, I went on a food binge. A burger, another one, fries, nuggets, all dipped in sauce and swallowed before I could chew. After 30 minutes of such piggishness, I felt nauseous and almost threw up. I decided to lie down and rest.

-I ate a ton of food again, my God, what am I turning into, but ok, I'll exercise some more and everything will be fine. I put my hand on my warm, bloated tummy and fell asleep. When I woke up I thought it would be a good idea to exercise. Like last time I got up and started squatting, but I stopped at 30 reps and sat on the bed…. The leftovers were beckoning me… -Okay, I've done enough, I can have a snack. I finished everything on the tray and went back to sleep… It went on like that for about two weeks

[chibi-celesti]

The Heart Speaks

Summary: He isn’t one to talk about his feelings. But as the day of your eventual departure back to your world comes, Ace decides to come clean in a way he knows you’d understand. Title based off the song of the same name.

If you were to tell Ace Trappola, resident troublemaker and school renowned prankster, he’d fall in love with the ‘Magicless’ prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, he’d clock you for even mentioning that. Him, in love, after his last failed attempt at romance in middle school? As if!

So why did the idea of you going back home make his heart do somersaults and hands get clammy? Why does he always dream about you having the chance to go home, but also visit Twisted Wonderland whenever you want? Why did the idea of losing you…cause a huge hole in his heart to form?

As the days marched on, and every Overblot defeated, the questions kept looming over his head. He tried to ignore them, and play them off, but he was forever stuck in this loop for days on end. It wasn’t until STYX’s siege on Night Raven and you running away to save Grim and the others that the realization hit Ace on the head.

He really was in love with you.

The day was here, and he loathed it. You were so happy to finally go back home, it made Ace want to vomit. Crowley mentioned you would be leaving tomorrow morning. Too soon, the Ace of Hearts thought to himself while lying in his bed. He tossed aside his blankets and slowly snooped out of Heartslabyul. Riddle collaring him again be damned; he needed to see you!

He knocked on your door like a madman, hoping you were up. He waited a few minutes before doing it again. Once he heard the sounds of locks coming undone, he stopped; his gaze fixed onto yours the moment the door opened.

‘Ace? What are you doing here?! It’s 3 in the morning!!’ You whispered as you let him inside, both confused and angry at him. Confused by why he’s up so late, and angry at him for banging on your door like a madman. He didn’t say anything, his mind trying to find the words to say. You walked over to him, brows furrowed in concern. “Ace? You ok-”

You were stopped by a sudden pair of lips on yours, and being held tightly in an embrace. Your eyes were wide in shock by the suddenness of it all, you gently placed your hands on Ace’s shoulders to keep yourself steady. Was this a dream? Was any of this real? After what felt like eternity, he finally pulled away, the both of you breathing heavily in the sleeping dorm. Gazing into his eyes, you could see the endless rush of pent up feelings and fear within Ace. Even under your palm, his heartbeat was erratic.

“...”

“...”

There was a moment of silence between you two, until Ace spoke his true feelings to you. “A glass of wine, I want to share with you. A single heartbeat, I want to share with you.”

You brought a hand to your mouth, shocked to hear what he’s saying! Your other hand clenched in a fist; your mind flooding with mixed feelings.

Bowing your head into his chest, you said: “You…are such a jerk! You’re telling me this now?! Even though I…even though I…” Tears weld in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“Even though there’s a slim chance I can come back here, why didn’t you tell me how you felt?!”

“You do know who you’re talking to, right?” You stare at him with a pout. “Ugh, fine. I didn’t say anything cause what would be the point? I wanted you to be happy since I know you missed your family and home. How could I get in the way of that?”

“...”

“I want you to be happy, even if I can’t bring that happiness…” Ace looked away with a blush. “I get that you wanna go home, but I couldn’t bear not telling you and regret it after the fact, right?”

“What you said just now, that was from my home. I didn’t think you’d try and learn that.”

“Course I did. And,uh, would it be weird to say I learnt it during the VDC.”

You hoped your ears were working right now when he said that. “Since then?!” You asked.

“...Yes.” He heard you laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just,” You moved your arms so you could pull him in a hug. “It’s really sweet you did that just for me.”

“Yeah, that’s right!” He wrapped his arms around you, too. “You better appreciate it!” He said with his signature grin before his voice became somber. “Despite you leaving tomorrow, I really like you.”

“Me too. I like you, too, Ace.”

You both took to the sofa in the lounge, holding each other in the tight space, cherishing each other til your time together came to an end.

[curup]

It's 6:23 PM on Valentine's day. I got no date, a bottle of Pepsi Max Lime Flavour and a fictional child just asked a question about MtG layers. Let's rock.

For explanation, let's assume that all players have zero non-land permanents in play and that no player will play any cards until this sequence has played out. There's three cards in this question so let's go through them one at a time.

Let's start with Replenish. It's a Sorcery that returns all Enchantments in the kids graveyard into play. This card is straight forward but will add a fun complication later on.

Here's our first trouble maker. Humility is an Enchantment, meaning it will be moved from the graveyard into play by Replenish, that sets the base power and toughness of all creatures in play to 1 and removes all abilities. It can be challenge to keep track of but we're not done yet.

Now we're cooking with gas. Opalescence is another Enchantment that will be brought into play by Replenish. It turns all other non-Aura Enchantment cards into Creatures with power and toughness equal to their mana value. The affected cards still count as Enchantments despite also being Creatures and keep all their effects.

Eagle eyed readers may have spotted the paradox that was just created. Because Humility is an Enchantment, Opalescence makes it a Creature with 4 power and toughness. But Humility ability states that all Creatures' power and toughness is 1 and (here comes the big problem) that Creatures lose any abilities they have. So Humility removes it's own ability, turning it back into a 4/4 with an ability that once again says it's supposed to be a 1/1 with no abilities. And the cycle starts over.

This leads to some very interesting questions. Is Humility a 4/4 or a 1/1? Does it still have it's ability? Can the game even continue at this point? Luckily, the answer to the last question is yes. As for the previous ones, we need to open up the hood of MtG and take a look at a thing called "layers".

Before we go any further, I have to give a massive shout out to MTG Tutorials . I'm not going to go into the finer details about the Layer System but if you want to read more about it, their tutorial is a great place to start.

The simplified explanation is that Magic handles continuous effects from cards like Humility and Opalescence with a series of steps (or Layers) that decides in what order the effects happen in. There's 7 layers in total and layer 7 is split into 5 sub layers. Effects that fit Layer 1 goes first, then those that apply to Layer 2 and so on. The layers that are relevant to this scenario are Layer 4 (Type changing effects), Layer 6 (Ability-granting or removing effects) and Layer 7b (Effects that set power and toughness to a specific value).

So let's go through the layers and see how things get any clearer. The first change occurs on Layer 4 where Opalescence adds the Creature card type to Humility. Humility then removes its own ability in Layer 6. We'll stop here to bring up a very important point about layers and effects being removed.

According to rule 613.6, effects that are applied in one layer, will continue to be applied in all relevant layers, even if they have been removed during its journey through the layers. This means that even though Humilty's ability was removed in Layer 6 it will still be involved in determining its own power and toughness in Layer 7b.

Speaking of, let's head into that layer now. Here we got two effects that want to affect the same card so what do we do here? This depends on which card entered play first. The card that has been in play the longest is the first to activate its effect and then it goes forward until you reach the card that was played last.

This means that if Humility entered play before Opalescence, it is first turned into a 1/1 by its own effect and is then turned into a 4/4 by Opalescence. If the order in which the cards entered is switched, then the order of their effects are also switched. Humility is first turned into a 4/4 by Opalescence and then into a 1/1 by itself.

But do you remember that I wrote that Replenish was going to add a fun complication? We have reached that competition now :)

Replenish brought in Humility and Opalescence at the same time meaning that they have the same spot in the que. How do we solve this new conundrum? Luckily there's a handy rule for such an occasion..

Rule 613.7k states if two or more cards share a time slot, the active player (in this case, the player that casted Replenish) is allowed to choose in what order the effects are activated.

It's 8:23 PM on Valentine's day. I got no date, a half empty bottle of Pepsi Max Lime Flavour and I just spent 2 hours answering a fictional child's question about MtG by giving a brief overview of the Layer System. Let's review.

When you cast Replenish to bring back Humility and Opalescence from the graveyard, they enter the board at the same time and the layer system comes into play.

First, at Layer 4, Humility becomes a Creature. It then loses all abilities at Layer 6. At Layer 7b the player that cast Replenish chooses in what order Humility and Opalescence effects goes into effect. If they start with Opalescence, Humility becomes a 1/1 Enchantment Creature without abilities. If they start with Humility, it becomes a 4/4 Enchantment Creature without abilites.

If you have any follow-up questions, such as "What if Grey Ogre was in play when Replenish was cast?" or "If I play a Grizzly Bear after this, would it be a 2/2 or 1/1?", please send it to someone who knows such things. I'm not a judge, why are you asking me?

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[heygirltimeformorning]

can i go where you go

This is inspired by this text post from @buckdiazlafd - thank you thank you thank you - and is posted with their permission.

enjoy~*

*

The last 24-hours have been a real shit-show. Buck is pretty sure Eddie being crushed by a mudslide less than 48 hours after announcing he was looking at houses in El Paso is a sign from the universe that Eddie should not move to El Paso, but Buck’s learned not to bring the universe up with Eddie, because Eddie doesn’t believe in the universe, not like that, and, well, Buck had major mine flashbacks when Eddie had shot him one wild, helpless look, and then disappeared under, like, ten feet of mud.

Maybe that’s dramatic. Buck hadn’t whipped out his ruler (he doesn’t carry a ruler -- quit looking at him like that, Chim) to measure how many feet of mud it had been, but it had been enough that something icy and cold and really fucking terrible had grabbed ahold of Buck’s heart and squeezed, and Buck had thought: not again, you bitch at the universe, because Eddie might not believe in the universe, but Buck does, and Buck has learned to have a healthy respect for the universe and all its screaming.

The point is: Eddie had been crushed by mud and debris, and Buck (because he’s Buck) had dug through the mud until his fingers were bleeding (stop looking at him like that, Bobby) to get to him, hauling him out of the ground like one of those Harry Potter plants, only Eddie hadn’t been screaming, he’d been silent, and Buck’s chest felt like it was caving in.

It turns out that getting crushed by 10 feet of mud (or however much mud and debris Eddie had been crushed by -- again, Buck hadn’t had his ruler stop looking at him like that, Chim -- is not exactly compatible with life. Eddie hadn’t been dead -- Buck’s heart plummets to his toes and starts screaming like one of the Harry Potter plants at the thought of that -- but he’d been hurt badly enough to need surgery and Buck had sat in the waiting room next to Bobby, hair wet and plastered to his forehead, looking pitiful enough that Hen had wrapped one of the emergency blankets around his shoulders, which really completed the look, and thought if Eddie dies, I have to move to El Paso for Christopher which, look.

It’s not like Buck hadn’t thought about moving to El Paso when Eddie had dropped that particular bomb in his life a day or so ago (Eddie had said he was looking at houses in El Paso, and Buck had thought please stay please stay please stay - I’ll come with you before he said Eddie needed help finding houses) but it hadn’t been moving to El Paso to take care of Chris because Eddie had been killed by ten feet (or whatever, fuck off, Chim) of mud. That wasn’t the plan.

Buck isn’t sure what the plan was, but El Paso wasn’t involved, not beyond getting Chris’ punk ass back to LA, and the mudslide killing Eddie also wasn’t part of the plan -- but Eddie wasn’t dead (not-dead, not-dead, not-dead, his heart echoes) and El Paso was put on hold and Chris -- fuck. He hadn’t thought about Chris. Well, he had -- Chris is always just kind of in the back of his mind -- but he hadn’t thought about the mudslide and Eddie and Chris as like, a unit, and, well. Fuck.

That isn’t a problem he has to solve right now, he thinks. That isn’t something he has to do right now. Eventually? Yes. He needs to tell Chris that Eddie was crushed by a mudslide, and that he had surgery and that -- that -- what? That he needs to get his punk ass back to LA? Ideally, yes. Point being: that isn’t something Buck has to solve right now.

What he does have to solve right now is the fact that Hen has brought him a tshirt and a pair of sweats from the firehouse and is giving him one of her mom looks (Buck feels bad for Denny and Mara), pointing to the bathroom with a look that said that if Buck didn’t go of his own volition, he’d be taken there by force, and Buck did have one very confusing sex dream about Hen once (when he first started at the firehouse), but he doesn’t want to get on her bad side (her worse side), so he takes the clothes and goes.

Hen makes him drink a coffee, a bottle of water, and a sandwich, because she’s a bossy lesbian, and then Buck sits and waits, and thinks about the universe and Eddie and screaming. And Chris. He thinks about Chris, too, and when the surgeon comes out and says Diaz, Buck stands up so fast he knocks his half-empty cup of coffee over because he’s never been great at coordinating his limbs, but Hen takes care of it for him and Bobby has a hand on his shoulder, and the surgeon says everything went well, he’s still pretty out of it, but he’ll be okay and something finally loosens in Buck’s chest.

And then the nurse shows him back to Eddie’s room, and Buck has kind of gotten used to this - he thinks he knows what to expect - but then  he gets to the door of the room and Eddie’s face splits into an easy grin -- he’s so much lighter like this (yes, Chim, without the 10 feet of mud, but also metaphorically) -- and Buck’s breath catches in his chest and, look.

Buck has known he’s in love with Eddie since Eddie opened the door in a pink oxford and tighty-whiteys, mustache-less and flushed with joy, so beautiful it’s like a physical ache Buck can press his thumb into, make it hurt when he’s alone, when he’s alone in his loft and it’s night and he’s hard and just once, he’ll just think about him once, nobody has to know -- Buck has known, is the point. Buck is a little slow on the uptake, but he isn’t stupid, and he’s known he’s in love with Eddie Diaz. It’s just. Well, what do people do when they’re in love with their straight best friends? Google says get over it -- so Buck’s trying. Only when he steps into Eddie’s hospital room and Eddie beams at him like Buck is the best thing he’s ever seen, well, fuck. Google didn’t have any advice about that.

“There he is,” Eddie half-slurs, and he’s smiling like -- like -- well, Buck doesn’t have a metaphor for this, because Eddie makes his brain feel like it’s on fire, like the Inside Out people in his brain are trying to process and come up with an emotion and the only thing they have to offer is: yes. Him. That one. Want. which is not exactly helpful. 

“H-Hey, bud,” Buck manages, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, sitting down next to Eddie’s bed. Eddie’s hospital gown is slipping off his shoulders, and he’s still got the nasal cannula on, and he’s blinking slowly, and his pupils are huge, but he’s smiling and Buck’s heart keeps malfunctioning. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better now you’re here,” Eddie says, and he’s so light like this, and Buck freezes. One of the Inside Out people in his brain is shredding everything Buck knows to make room for this moment, for Eddie’s joy, unbridled and bright, spilling out across them. “Fuck, you’re handsome,” he says, shaking his head, turning to the nurse when she, smirking, goes to check his lines. “Isn’t he handsome? I told you, didn’t I? I told -- I told you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain is offline. There’s been a gas leak or something, and all the Inside Out people are dead, because he hadn’t considered this -- hadn’t considered any of this. What was supposed to happen was Buck was supposed to come back here, curls fluffy and air-dried, in his borrowed sweats, with coffee breath, and Eddie would be still and quiet in the bed, and Buck would sit down and shove down every single feeling he’s ever had about Eddie because Eddie is straight and he’d try to convince himself that the feelings he has for Eddie are purely platonic (knowing they aren’t) and Eddie would wake up and ask about Chris and - and -- look, Buck knows how this goes, and Eddie being higher than a kite and spilling joy like he hadn’t been pulled like a half-dead mandrake from the mud six hours ago by Buck isn’t how it goes.

Maybe he’s dreaming, he thinks. Maybe this is some fucked up dream his brain has created to help deal with the inevitable moving of Eddie to El Paso. Maybe he’s finally lost it, and now he won’t be able to look Eddie in the eye for, like, a day, because all he’ll be able to think about is in the dream you loved me enough to stay and Buck doesn’t want to be that selfish and he’s ashamed that his subconscious is.

But then the nurse laughs and says: “You did tell me,” in the tone of voice people use with little kids and patients high on pain medications. “I half-expected Brad Pitt to walk in here, the way you were carrying on,” she adds, and Buck’s cheeks flush. 

“Psh,” Eddie says, and his eyes are slow to track, but they drift back across the room, from the nurse to Buck, and Buck feels something squeeze in his chest. “Buck’s so much better than Brad Pitt,” he says, and Buck’s hand is on the side of the bed, because that’s what you do when someone’s in the hospital, you rest a hand on the side of their bed, and they look over at you, and you say I was so worried and they say something fucked up like I’m not worth worrying about and -- but Buck’s brain short-circuits then, because Eddie laces their fingers together, and Buck can’t even blink because what the fuck kind of hallucination is this?

The nurse shoots Buck a fond little look, and finishes whatever she’s doing with the medications. “Alright, Mr. Diaz,” she says and Eddie rolls his head to the side to look up at her. “That pain medication should hold you for awhile - but you just have your partner--” Buck’s heart leaps into his throat, and he can’t say anything, he can’t even blink -- “grab me if you need something else, alright?”

Eddie turns back to Buck. “Hear that?” he asks, like the nurse isn’t still standing right there. “She thinks we’re partners. Like, actual partners.” He waggles his eyebrows, and forget blinking, Buck can’t breathe. “Like I’d be so lucky.”

“We’ll -- we’ll let you know if we need anything,” Buck says, and his voice is high-pitched and unnatural sounding, but it’s literally the best he can do under the circumstances, because what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck Eddie is holding his hand and calling him handsome and hot and seems -- well, whatever this is -- about them being partners in the sense that gay people and woke straight people use. The nurse is gone with a rasp of the curtain and a flick of the lights, and then Buck and Eddie are alone -- well, in a manner of speaking -- and Eddie’s looking at Buck like - like - like that.

“You should rest,” Buck says finally, when he manages to peel the Inside Out people in his brain off the ceiling. “You need to rest, you were -- I pulled you out of the mud. Like a mandrake.”

Eddie frowns at the reference, a confused little divot between his brows, but then he grins, shrugging a shoulder. The hospital gown slips off his shoulder a little bit more. Slut, Buck’s brain supplies when Buck thinks about biting that shoulder, which is so inappropriate in at least five ways Buck can think of off the top of his head. “You’re always saving me,” he says, and his words are tripping together in a way that says he probably won’t be awake much longer.

“Yeah, well, that’s my job, right?” Buck says, picking over the words carefully, like he’s disarming a bomb. Eddie’s still holding his hand. Buck isn’t exactly doing anything to discourage the hand holding, and then he feels dirty and wrong and like a pervert. “Gotta keep you alive,” he adds quietly, and pulls his hand back very carefully.

Eddie tightens his fingers around Buck’s. “Gotta -- look like a hot badass doing it,” he says with a little grin. “Shame I’m usually unconscious. I bet it’s really sexy, all the -- mangrove pulling.”

Buck’s still focused on the fact that he’d tried to pull his hand away and Eddie had, essentially, said no, so it takes him a minute to catch up -- tripping first over hot badass and then sexy and by the time he gets to the missed reference of mandrake, he barely manages to say: “uh-huh” in response.

“Is that right? Mangrove?” Eddie asks with a frown. “That doesn’t sound right. What did you call me? A man- a man --”

“Mandrake,” Buck says -- croaks, and Eddie nods. 

“Right,” Eddie says, “Mandrake. Whatever that is. Is it cute, at least?” he asks, grinning at Buck again, and Buck’s heart is malfunctioning again.

“Uh,” Buck says, very eloquently, and then he’s saved from having to say anything else by the arrival of Hen and Chim and Bobby, all of whom seem to notice the hand-holding, and chalk it up to either something they don’t need to address right now, or something that is just so uniquely buckandeddie that it doesn’t phase them, and Buck is so thankful that the universe decided to give him half a break, because Chimney giving Eddie a shovel talk about his baby brother in law while Eddie’s high on pain medication is not something Buck is capable of coping with right now. Only then, as Bobby, Hen, and Chimney file in, Eddie’s face breaks into one of those heartbreakingly beautiful smiles and Buck thinks: shit because high-on-pain-medication Eddie is either incredibly gay, incredible horny, incredibly unfiltered, or all of the above.

“Hey guys,” Eddie says, lifting the hand that doesn’t have a grip on Buck’s. “Hey, does Buck look -- like, really sexy when he’s pulling me like a mangrove?” and Buck is pretty sure they could use his face to power a small compound because what the fuck, Eddie. 

“Pulling a what?” Chimney asks, and thank every single god there is for Bobby because he clears his throat and steps in.

“Sounds like you’re in good hands, Eddie,” Bobby says in that calm, measured way of his. “We just wanted to check on you. We’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest,” he says, and then he gives Chimney and Hen one of his dad looks -- which trumps Hen’s bossy lesbian looks -- and marches them out, but not before Eddie smirks and says: oh, I’m in great hands.

(24 hours later, when the pain medication has worn off and Eddie has come down a bit, when Buck realizes this hasn’t just been some strange stress dream as a reaction to Eddie moving to El Paso, when Chimney has text Buck approximately 74 times, Eddie says I meant it and something in Buck’s chest splits open, spills out between them, and Eddie is blushing, and Buck is blushing, but they kiss anyway, and Buck says go get Chris’ punk ass -- but stay and Eddie says only if you keep saving me and Buck says only because you saved me first and he thinks: take that, universe.)

*

you can also read this on the ao3 :)

[ineffableteeth]

This has been said to death but not only was this reaction completely unwarranted from Aziraphales response, but Crowley was so unnecessarily close to him

He pressed his entire body against Aziraphale and STAYED LIKE THAT, he didn't just push him to the wall, he PINNED him

And Aziraphale didn't even attempt to struggle or push Crowley away, even when he was distracted

So there’s only one logical explanation for this

They were both into it and everything about this interaction was intentional

[egophiliac]

he did it! 🐍 and it only took...uhhh...well, there probably could've been less punches, but why hold back!

PUNCHES FOR EVERYONE

[winepresswrath]

Armand's simpering little "and I never have" has taken on new dimensions for me. Technicality king and also I think very in keeping with his whole malign fairy creature deal. You can tell him not to hurt the bae, but you should really specify what "hurt" entails. Is chopping someone's hands off really hurting them? If they have annoyed you very much I mean.

-questions Armand might pose to Lestat that inspire him to leave the country

[kaylazer]

back on my bullshit (meeting men im in love with). Ben Schwartz is so kind and tall :-) I didn’t totally freeze like when I met the Jonas brothers but the selfies we took are blurry so 😔

(at least I have these bc I told sam to record the whole thing heheheh)

[arolesbianism]

Finally fixating on some nugget relationships that aren't horrible for everyone I love friendship <3

[bewarethewolfarmy]

(I just saw a video on my dashboard that made me honestly feel so many things. I thought at first to respond. Then I thought to just tag it. Then I decided that no, I will not help it to move along on Tumblr.

I watched the entirety of it; it was of a man expressing his anger and frustrations about the election in terms of how "you survived Trump once, you can survive him again" and how Biden was the one who has massacred the people of Palestine. I watched all of it because I felt I needed to, that any feelings I had initially should be filtered through knowing the entirety of the 6ish minute long video. This despite the fact that he makes a point of saying how it's "more bombs than Hiroshima, more bombs than Nagasaki".

I am half-Japanese. I was born in Japan, my entire paternal line lives in Japan, they are carpenters of traditional Japanese style. I am Japanese-American in that I live in the United States and my mother was American but I was a Japanese citizen first and I will count myself as Japanese until the day I die. I cannot express how absolutely disgusted I felt when he said that, as if the number of bombs made one humanitarian disaster worse or better than the other.

I want to believe that is not his intention, that he didn't mean to make it sound like he was comparing disasters; I want to believe that much of what he said throughout the video was his anger, his frustration, his pain and sorrow and disappointment in what the states has allowed and accepted. But it doesn't change the fact that we cannot control what others make of us and our actions and words, and his words had that ring. As he denounced Biden, who does deserve it for not being willing to make a stand against Israel through all this, he puts it all at his feet, instead of at the feet of Netanyahu. Actually in that whole 6ish minutes he makes no mention of Netanyahu at all. I cannot speak to the full context, what else was going on, what else was said, only what was given.

He speaks of us surviving Trump once, we can survive him again but whether or not we can isn't the point and I won't go into it. I'll just finish by saying that it was a very emotionally raw video, extremely so. I feel for him, and I agree with much of the heart of the sentiment. But I cannot agree with the words used or the argument made, not when that argument is built on what sounds so much like a fundamental misunderstanding of the actual state of things here in the states, of what we actually have had to continue to deal with because of him. I agree that the two party system has royally fucked us. I agree that we shouldn't be giving our votes to people who would sanction the horrific events in Gaza, secretly, by not taking a stand, what have you. I agree that there is an implication of playing dumb when we ignore what is happening over there. But we have no choice anymore; we are not standing at the beginning of this race anymore, we are nearing it's end, and the time for better choices and better chances and better lives is through. We either give ourselves to the wolves we know want to eat us or we give into the dogs who might prove to help us through the storm; I don't like it anymore than anyone else but for the sake of myself, the sake of my friends, the sake of the people I don't know who are sleeping in the cold and rain right now and the people who are facing the chance of dying because of what Trump wants to do to our government, has made it clear he and the Republicans want to do, I will choose the side of the dogs.)

[corkinavoid]

I'm pretty sure this has been done before (and several times), but brain going brrr, so

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids

Bruce doesn't even get to say anything when the door to his study opens with a slam against the wall, and before he knows it, he gets an armful of kids. As in, a bouquet of them.

"I'm so done," John Constantine breathes out, raspy and exhausted, looking like a trainwreck incarnate. Granted, the man always looked like one, but right now, the effect has been greatly worsened. The dark circles under John's eyes are, in fact, black, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in at least a week.

Bruce looks down to the small gaggle of children in his lap that he caught in his hands by sheer reflex.

All three of them look up at him with identical, sky blue eyes. They could be twins if it was not for their obviously different ages - the girl looks no older than three, while the boys are probably around five and six.

The older boy scrunches his nose. The girl pouts, but it looks directed at Constantine rather than at him.

Bruce looks back to John, a silent question in his eyes.

"They are- Well, not mine, for starters," the man begins, placing his hands on the table right over the sheets and documents, and leans on it, hanging his head down. Then, he raises one hand up and waves it in the air, "Not yours either, thank the Gods for that." He takes a deep breath.

Bruce's eyebrows raise all the way up to his hairline. The girl starts trying to wiggle out of his hands, but the middle boy holds her back, keeping her in Bruce's lap. She pouts harder.

"And you've brought them here why?" Bruce breaks the stretched out silence, gently repositioning the kids into a more comfortable hold. John raises his head up at him, and the magician's eyes look straight up pleading.

"You're the only person I know of who is, one, a parent, two, acquainted with supernatural, three, a man of great patience, and four, owes me a favor." Constantine lists off reasons that don't really make sense all together, especially regarding kids. Then he thinks for a moment and adds, "Five, owes a shitton of liquor."

"John, what-"

"Listen, I've been dealing with them for a week, I'm at my limit," Constantine interrupts him, desperate and close to whining, "I haven't slept in more than three consecutive hours for days. I don't remember the last time I ate. Or took a shower."

Yes, Bruce can see that. Or, rather, smell it. But that answers none of his questions as to who, why, and how.

"I would kill for a bath," John admits, like it's some sort of a secret. The middle boy opens his mouth, but Constantine points an accusing finger at him, "No, the puddle of melted ghost ice does not count for a bath. And don't come at me with your death puns."

The child rolls his eyes but closes his mouth back and slumps. Bruce resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, but only because he is holding three kids. His hands are full, quite literally.

"John, I need you to explain," he asks, somewhere between a demand and a careful inquiry. Because, really, the man looks on the brink of losing his sanity, that much is evident. Bruce might not like the man, but he can at least partially sympathize with dealing with kids.

His bare minimum of sympathy - and isn't it a bizarre thought, emotionally sympathizing with John Constantine of all people - does not ease his growing worry and irritation. The girl starts trying to get out of his hold again.

John takes a very deep breath, holds it, and then-

"I stole them," he says, looking Bruce dead in the eye, with a sense of resigned, if a bit unhinged, determination. And, before Bruce is able to ask literally anything else, he keeps going, "Their parents are shit, a branch of government is out for their guts - as in, literal guts - there was- there is a backdoor to the afterlife in their basement, and also they are dead and because of some Realms fuckery and their spiritual granddad being a huge pain in the ass, they are all wrong ages."

Bruce blinks. Then blinks again. Processing that sentence turns out to be a lot harder than he estimated.

The oldest kid in his lap gives John a middle finger, nearly sneering. The girl starts snickering, somehow making it soundless.

"Oh, and they are under a silence charm because if I hear one more references to fucking Ghostbusters I will shoot myself," Constantine finishes matter-of-factly.

Distantly, Bruce wonders if John can make that spell into some sort of an amulet. God knows, Dick really needs one sometimes. Steph does, too. And Jason. Actually, all of them need one.

He looks over the kids again. They don't seem scared or unsettled, neither by the fact they are sitting in a lap of a stranger nor by Constantine's bullet point version of a summary to their lives. They mostly just look annoyed and grumpy, and a bit embarrassed in case of the middle boy.

Bruce sighs and decides to start somewhere.

"Do they have names?"

[part 2 ->]

[mariasont]

maria, i have an ideaaa!!

bimbo!assistant!reader goes on a date with a really shitty guy. and she sneaks away to the back door and calls hotch in the alley to come and save her (it’s also raining). she’s all wet and her makeup’s all ruined when hotch comes.

he then takes her back to his place and takes care of her… and… mushy soft fluffiness happens… and maybe feelings are confessed… and maybe a kiss or 2 happens…🥰💖

TALK ABOUT A BAD DATE - A.H

a/n: genius, genius, you are an absolute genius!!!!!!!!!!! this was probably my fav bimbo!reader fic to write <3 thank you sm for requesting

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: um the rain takes out reader's shirt, so she does kinda flash him for a hot sec, hotch also blatantly checks out her ass, cuties being sickeningly cute, cuties kiss in 4k

wc: 2k

A perfect, flawless, stunning, never-been-done before outfit wasted on a loser of a guy. Your makeup had taken an hour alone, your hair—well, you didn't even want to think about it because you were certain you were starting to break out in hives.

You steadied yourself against the brick wall, the uneven asphalt beneath your heels threatening to take you down as you fished your phone from the depths of your purse.

You dialed the first number you could think of--Hotch's. His was also the only one you had memorized. The battery icon flashed a warning of five percent as you hunched beneath the alleyway's awning, trying to shield yourself from the rain. You desperately hoped he'd pick up.

There was frankly no plan B if he didn't. Go back inside and ask you so-called date for a ride? That was not an option. The moment he pulled up in one of those big trucks, with its deafening music and roaring engine, you regretted not driving yourself. After all, you were well aware what men were compensating for with a big truck.

"Hotchner."

His voice was gruff, the sound slightly distorted by the speaker. You imagined he had just walked through his door, despite the time being eight o'clock on a Friday night. He was presumably preparing to pour his routine glass of scotch.

"Sir, it's me," you said, attempting to ignore the relentless raindrops assaulting your makeup--a battle they seemed intent on winning. Clearly, the concept of setting spray was foreign to them. "Can I ask you for a favor? If you say yes, I pinky promise I'll stop rearranging your desk. I know you have a system, but it just looks so bland sometimes."

"I'm going to overlook that desk comment," he stated, his sigh audible through the phone. You could picture the pensive frown that came with it. "What do you need?"

You drew your lips into a tight line, looking down to watch the rain mock the effort you had put into your outfit.

"Can you come pick me up? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Pick you up? From where? Are you okay?"

You shivered slightly, your free hand instinctively rubbing warmth into your arm. You should've brought a jacket. The thought of sharing this evening's failings with your boss did not sound appealing, so you avoided most of his questions.

"I'll text you the location, okay?"

"Okay, yes, I'll be there. Just stay put."

You thanked him and followed that by a double promise to stay put (he didn't believe you the first time). You also told him you'd wait inside, which was less than truthful. The thought of getting drenched was far more attractive than the prospect of bumping in that women-hating boy again.

You didn't have to wait long, thankfully, spotting Hotch's car turn into the alley, the headlights flaring up like spotlights against your face. You used a manicured hand to shield your eyes, narrowing them against the glare. The distinct sound of a door opening and closing signaled his arrival, and soon, Hotch was striding towards you.

"Christ, get in the car," Hotch insisted, more a command than a suggestion.

He was by your side in an instant, his arm on yours as he opened your door and helped you in. Then, unexpectedly, he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt. You giggled, his hand pausing just above your thigh.

"What?"

The rain gently streamed over his perfect skin, his hair now saturated and plastered to his brow, his blue dress shirt bearing the brunt of the downpour.

"You don't trust me to buckle my own seatbelt?"

"I don't trust you with a lot of things." Completely false. "For instance, your choice of men." Completely true.

He clicked the seatbelt into place and swung the door shut, cutting off any chance of a response, then moved around the car to the driver's side.

You can't help but pout, even as your eyes traced the line of his jaw. "How'd you know?"

Any trace of annoyance vanished as quickly as it came as he placed a hand behind you, giving you an even better view of his profile while he reversed the car. Your focus shifted to the ripple of muscles under his shirt.

"I'm trained to know when someone is in distress and you practically spelled it out. The restaurant, the clothes..." His voice tapered off, disguising his pause with a cough while his gaze flickered over your outfit, his cheeks tinged with a fleck of red. "I've got a spare sweatshirt in the back if you need it."

You traced his line of sight to your chest. Emitting a small squeak, you quickly shielded yourself with your arms, realizing that your white top had become completely see through.

"Totally not embarassing," you say, pursing your lips as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"It's fine," Hotch insists, but you don't miss how his eyes are now careful not to drift from the road. "Put your seatbelt back on."

"I can't reach the sweatshirt."

You shift to face the back, knees planted on your seat as you lean over to grab just the thing you were looking for. In the rearview mirror you catch the brief moment his eyes do stray, discreetly (or so he thought) sweeping over your ass.

A self-satisfied smile crept across you face as you slid back into your seat, slipping on the sweatshirt. It smelled like him—an intoxicating blend of aged leather and pine. You liked it. A lot.

"So do you wanna talk about it?"

You really didn't. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your lip gloss. Flipping down the passenger mirror, you froze, confronting your reflection.

"Hotch, didn't you think to mention my face is all... smudgy?"

Your mascara (and setting spray) had betrayed you, leaving dark trails down your cheeks and a slightly unhinged look.

"Your face is perfect," Hotch remarks dryly, like he was tired of you, he undoubtedly was. You were a handful after all. "Why are you avoiding my question?"

You let out a delighted gasp.

"Did you just say my face is perfect?" Leaning over the console, you tap his nose with your finger. "You're just the sweetest."

The look Hotch gives you is flat, expectant as if he knows just what you were trying to do.

"Okay, okay, fine, it was just a terrible date. Like, Hotch, I'm talking disaster-level bad. He made fun of my job, ate like a toddler, and his truck? He wouldn't shut up about it." Your hands are now shuffling through the contents of your purse in a panic. "And now, I can't find my keys."

"Your house keys?"

A breath of frustration flows from you, fingers pulling through your hair as you nod. "Dang it."

You felt a slight unraveling in your usual poise, and the panicking that came with it. Hotch's hand landed on your shoulder, his thumb grazing across your collarbone.

"Hey, it's fine. It's late, and you're upset. You can stay at my place tonight, I'll crash on the couch, and we'll find your keys in the morning."

He made everything seem so simple.

"I'm not upset," you insist, lips pursing as you angle your body just enough to feel his touch more fully.

His hands felt right on you.

He chuckled quietly, his thumb tracing a path from your shoulder to brush away the solitary tear beneath your eye that you hadn't noticed before.

"Must be a raindrop," you shrug. Hotch's soft laugh tells you he doesn't quite buy it. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying over?"

"I'm certain."

"Okay."

"So why did your date make fun of your job?"

"Because," you start, your fingertip lazily sketching doodles on the misted car window, "when I was telling him about being an assistant and working for you, he implied that the only reason you hired me was so you had something pretty to look at."

"Well, he's not entirely wrong."

You let out a surprised giggle. "Hotch!"

You reach over the console, pinching his arm which he just laughed off, pulling into what you assumed was his driveway. You had never been to his house. It was nice. Really nice, the kind you'd find in movies—not imposing, but inviting, with its brick walls and stout brown pillars framing the porch.

You were even more surprised when you entered the house. The image you had of Hotch's house one of meticulous order, a place where you could hear the tick of a clock from rooms away. But this... this was a home. There were throw blankets casually draped over the couch, books overflowing, armchairs worn in just the right places.

You lean down, intent on stripping off the torturous heels, but a wobble has you teetering. Hotch is quick to step in.

"Here," he offers, lifting each foot in turn to his knee, skillfully undoing the straps and easing them off you.

Standing flat-footed, you suddenly feel much shorter, and you wonder if Hotch has ever seen you without them.

You look up at him, smiling cheekily. "My very own prince charming."

He ignored you and moved through the living room. "Do you want a pair of sweatpants?"

"Sharing clothes now, are we? I bet there's a clause against this in the employee handbook."

Hotch raises an eyebrow, "I don't think I need to remind you of the numerous times I've overlooked your creative interpretations of the handbook rules."

"So you're admitting to showing me favoritism?"

You plucked the sweatpants from his hands, not giving him an option to respond as you shuttled yourself into his bathroom. You changed quickly, trading your sopping wet clothes for Hotch's dry, warm ones.

You reentered the living room to find Hotch reclining on the couch with an ease that was new to your eyes. He, too, had slipped into something more comfortable—sweats and a form fitting grey long sleeve that threatened to distract you completely.

You dropped your purse onto the coffee table and settled next to him, maybe a little closer than you should have.

He let out a sound that was more a breath than a laugh, a sound that all the same made your heart flutter unexpectedly. "You've still got some, uh, makeup under your eyes."

He reached up to wipe it away with his thumb.

"It won't come off that way," you said, grabbing his wrist with a soft smile. "I have makeup wipes in my purse."

But he didn't hand you your bag like you would've thought, instead he dug through it, pulling out the wipes and starting to dab at your face. The softness of his touch felt disarmingly intimate, so gentle it coaxed your eyes to flutter more slowly, eyelids becoming more heavy.

Your head tilted downward and Hotch used his free hand to tilt it back up. "Stay still, or I'm going to poke your eye out."

"You're making me sleepy," you murmur, your voice a soft, drowsy hum, but then he moved the wipe to your lips and suddenly you were anything but.

He was even more gentle with your lips, if that was possible, wiping away the gloss like you were made of glass.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself gazing into his warm, brown-sugared eyes, your heart thundering in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. How did you get so close? You weren't sure, but he was there, noses almost touching.

He pulled away the wipe, using his thumb to clean up left over gloss though you were sure there wasn't any. His hand paused there, resting on your lower lip like it was meant to be there. You felt every fiber of your being stand on high alert. You wondered what he was thinking.

Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?

"Are you going to kiss me?" You asked, half-hopeful, half-daring, giving a microphone to your inner monologue.

He took a moment, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes then back down again. "Yes."

It was certain. Like there was no doubt about it, but he didn't move.

"Okay, I'm ready," you breathed out, pulse roaring in your ears.

Hotch's laughter was a low and warm sound. You had heard it a lot tonight.

"You kill me," he said, and it wasn't patronizing—it was affectionate and genuine, and it made your whole body turn to mush.

Then his lips were on yours, and you were both laughing, the sound muffled by lips. It was tentative at first but it quickly morphed into something sweet and soft and perfect.

"Aren't you glad my date went terribly?" you mumbled into his soft skin.

"Devastatingly glad."

One thing was clear—Hotch was not going to end up sleeping on the couch tonight.

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[auclairedetoru]

Namami has only been seeing y/n for a month but he's already so smitten.

The way she walks, the way she talks, the way she carries herself, her confidence, the way she applies her makeup, the colours she gets on her nails, the pretty outfits she wears, her facial expressions, everything. He's obsessed with her.

He met her at a little bookstore. He mostly goes there to browse and relax after long and tiring shifts. He enjoys the smell of the books and the overall atmosphere, sometimes he ends up picking something that pricks his interest.

Y/n was there doing the same thing when she saw him holding one of her favourite books. She couldn't help but comment on his amazing choice. He thanked her and asked her if she liked it. She let him know that it's a top pick for her but not number one. He proceeded to ask which book she liked the most. One thing led to another and he ended up leaving the store with her number saved on his phone.

After he noticed that not only has he been talking to her for a week straight, but he also always looked forward to reading her texts, answering her calls and talking on the phone, he decided to ask her on a date.

Namami did not go on many dates before. But when he did, he'd always asked his coworker Gojo to call him at a specific time, if he was enjoying the date he would tell the person he's with that it's just work related and not to worry about it, but if he wasn't he would tell them that he's needed for an emergency and he would pay for their cab and make sure they make it home safe before letting them down gently the next time he talks to them. Thankfully he only did the latter once when the person was being borderline creepy and he felt unsafe.

The date with y/n was a first for him. After she agreed, he told her about the time and location, planning on taking her to a nice restaurant, a classic. He was surprised when she disagreed and asked if he'd be comfortable with coming over to her house. She told him that she loved cooking but never got the chance to make big meals. Namami agreed, and it made his heart swell with happiness when she told him she was excited for their date.

The date was nothing less than perfect. He immediately felt at home the moment he stepped foot in her apartment, he particularly loved that she uses small lights instead of overhead ones, something he does at his apartment as well. She set the table beautifully, with candles and some of the most unique tableware. The food was a whole different story. He could not believe he was eating all that for free. He has been to many fancy restaurants, but none of them compared to her cooking.

When Namami asked if it was okay for him to ask her a couple of questions to see if they were on the same page when it comes to the future if they're planning on sharing one, he was surprised again when she said she was glad he brought up that topic because she had her own questions as well. Namami immediately knew that this would turn out for the best because his past dates always either tried to dodge this discussion or told him he was rushing things.

He first asked her about marriage. She told him that she wants to get married and that it's definitely something she hopes would happen in the future when she's ready, he agreed. He asked her if she'd want them to live together with a partner, she said yes but not immediately, maybe one and half to two years into the relationship, he agreed. She asked him about kids and if he sees himself being a father in the future, he said yes but he wants kids not immediately after marriage but to wait a year or two before trying, she agreed. She asked him about how he would handle disagreements and arguments, he told her that he was a very calm person and enjoys the peace communication brings, so he'd sit with his partner and figure out the problem and how to resolve it, she agrees.

Namami started to feel giddy when he realised they have both agreed to many of each other's answers and even shared similar opinions. Would she be the one he spends forever with? The thought didn't seem so bad at the moment, he hoped to get his answer quickly.

But he wasn't expecting it to happen within a month.

They discovered they shared the same route on their way to work and began walking it together. Nanami started to look forward to seeing her. Every morning, she greets him with a smile and "hi, Ken!" which he started responding to with "hi, Barbie" after watching the Barbie movie, she always giggles and throws her arms around his neck in a hug. He buys her her favourite boba and she drinks it while they walk and talk about whatever comes to mind. He drops her off at work since it's closer than his, but not before pressing a kiss to her forehead that she started calling her "good luck kiss". They even spend their lunch breaks together by talking through facetime. He was the type to skip that free time to get more work done, but he stopped doing that in favour of talking to his favourite girl.

He started looking forward to seeing her and talking to her. Weekends have become boring, sure they text, but it's not like hearing her voice, even through the phone speaker. She consumed his brain, she became his first thought in the morning and his last before bed. Thankfully, Nanami isn't dumb, and he realised he is in fact falling in love.

He didn't want to play around, after all, they're both serious about this relationship. He plans on confessing, letting her know his true feelings. It's a scary thought, something he has never done before, and he hopes she wouldn't reject him given that he fell for her fast when they both agreed this would be a "getting to know each other" phase. But he can't control how he feels about her, she makes him look forward to the future, as long as she is a part of it.

It's the weekend, Nanami invited her over in the afternoon to watch movies and hang out at his apartment, but despite what the weather forecast said, the somewhat sunny morning quickly developed into a stormy evening, one that was strong enough for him to turn the hang out into a sleepover. He gave her a pair of his pajama pants and a shirt to get comfortable and put the frozen pizza he has for emergencies in the oven.

They're sitting on the couch, a movie long forgotten on TV as y/n tells him a very interesting work story. He's trying to focus, he really is, but the way she's so close to him, her folded legs almost on top of his, her hair wrapped around his fingers as he plays with the strands, the way her face lights up when she remembers a detail, it's all so precious.

“and then she got mad and-”

“I love you.”

Y/n stops talking and he's instantly regretting his words. They literally slipped out of his mouth, he had no control over them. It's like she pressed a botton and they came out. He starts fearing the worst and his brain starts telling him that he made things awkward and uncomfortable for her and she can't even escape because there's a storm outside. Fuck... Why did he need to rush? Everything has been going perfectly, and now he ruined it. He's gonna have to find a way to make up for this. He'll apologize a billion times if needed, but he can't afford to lose her.

“Ken, I love you too, so much, but I need to finish the story.”

Huh-

“Right. Sorry, darling. Please continue, I'm all ears.”

He isn't all ears, he can't be all ears, because he can hear how fast his heart is beating and he can feel the blood rushing to his face. She said it back, she loves him, so much too! Is he dreaming, is it still the night before and he hasn't called her yet to invite her over? No. It can't be. He wants this to be real... and it is, everything is real. The way she's holding on to his fingers is real, the way she's excitedly telling him the rest of her story is real, the way he's holding back from smiling so hard is real, the way the pizza smell is filling the room is real.

“oh shit, the pizza.”

Nanami bolts to the kitchen, quickly grabbing the oven mitts and pulling the pizza out just in time. When he quickly glaces towards the living room, he can see y/n hunched over and squealing into the pillow, her feet kicking slightly. He chuckles. She really tried to play it like his words did not affect her the way they affected him, but it seems like their feelings are mutual in every way possible.

Nanami is somehow even more excited for forever with her now.

[alyakthedorklord]

Batman the Playboy

Justice League, not quite early days but before proper identity reveals, though everyone knows Batman knows theirs, bc he has Opinions™ and Constructive Criticisms™ on their secret-keeping.

The issue is brought up on random occasions. The most notable incident- the Justice League, including Batman, being Drunk for Bonding, (or hit with some kind of drug while out saving the world) and Batman, in a fit of paranoid good intentions because he CARES about these idiots, damnit, why must they be so careless, starts insulting them.

Batman, leaning heavily on the table: “GL, you’re a mess, I don’t even know where to start with you. And Arrow! Your goatee is so distinctive, it’s a wonder no one has called you out on it-“

Green Arrow, also drunk: “Alright, there’s no need to insult my awesome facial hair-”

Batman, in despair: “It’s so ugly.”

Green Arrow: (offended noises)

Green Lantern: “Okay, the only reason you know our secret identities is because you’re a rude nosy bastard who needs to know everything about us like a creepy stalker who needs an ego boost! We’re not stupid, Spooky, we’re just polite. We could figure you out easily if we wanted to. Superman can see right through your mask!”

Usually, Batman would have a good response to that. Something smart and reasonable like “villains won’t care for your privacy, I’m testing you,” or something cutting like “I don’t care enough about you to go digging, I set your secret identity as a training exercise for Robin.”

However, Batman is Drunk, because for some reason imbibing drugs that dampen higher brain function is socially acceptable and often, for some reason, expected, because it’s “team bonding” and “come on just loosen up a bit.” (Also for him, drunk=Brucie)

So what Batman ends up saying is: “I could kiss you full on the lips in my secret identity and you wouldn’t know a thing.”

Superman, plucking the glass from Batman’s hand: “Aaaand that is enough alcohol for you!”

Batman nods. Thank God. He wants to go home and sleep. But first: “Superman, yours is so stupid it’s almost impressive-”

———

Of course, Green Lantern has smelled a challenge. And Green Lantern must annoy Batman. It’s his true superpower. So, the next time they meet (sober) he brings up the issue again.

GL: “So about what you said at the party… the part where you could kiss us full on the lips without us knowing. You still confident in that without liquid courage, Spooky? Bet you your real name you can’t do it.”

Batman, regretting the fact that alcohol has ever passed his lips: “I could do it, but I will not.”

Flash, curious: “Why’s that?”

Batman: “Informed Consent. I will not risk making any of you feel violated, or manipulated, for the sake of a stupid bet and my ego.”

GA, still offended by the goatee comment, trying to back Batman into a corner: “So if we give consent, we’re fair game? Try me, Batman. Even you can’t pull this off. Anyone else game?”

Some of the Justice League laughs, raising their hands.

Flash: “Come get me, hot stuff! I’ll call you out!”

Wonder Woman: “It could be amusing.”

Martian Manhunter: “I would be far too difficult a target.”

Green Arrow: “Not just you. C’mon, Spooky, flirting well enough to get a kiss from me? I’m a classy lady.”

Black Canary: “D-class, maybe.”

Superman, wants a kiss in on the fun: 🙋🏻‍♂️

“So that’s it then!” Green Lantern says smugly. “Batman, if you can kiss… how many people raised their hands? Ah yes- HALF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE, without anyone realizing it’s you, then you win.”

Batman scoffs and walks out, leaving the Justice League in stitches at their joke. Because- Batman? Being good enough at flirting to land a kiss on half the league, without it being forced or awkward, without them recognizing his body language, his voice, his build? How ridiculous!

The Batman is Autistic. The Batman does not understand jokes, especially not ones that are half truths. The Batman has consent, and something to prove.

And Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, and sexy DILF, has targets.

(Please tell me how you think he gets each League member.)

Edit: there have been a bunch of awesome additions in the notes! My own take here.