#I halfway rendered this and hated it so much I just went back to the sketch

[pencilmint]

Sunset in Shinjuku

[rashs-silly-little-games]

Welp, back at it.

Hey! Welcome back to the blog, or if you're new, welcome!

Since canning my last project, I decided I wanted to work on a new one, one that I've had in my head for a good while...

You see, I hate my day job. I hate it so much, it makes me feel trapped and terrified, like it's all I'm ever going to amount to in life. Well, the best way to cope with that is to turn it into a horror game!

To start with, I went and opened up Unity instead of my recent go-to of Godot, purely because I've been a game asset pack-rat and I want to use some of these so the money doesn't end up wasted.

I initially set up the project and got to work dropping things in. This free Modular First Person Controller asset made the initial setup a breeze. Add a flashlight and we're already halfway to Slender. (lol)

The first thing I set out to do, programming wise, was to make a baseline Interaction system. I dropped a few things in, and one Code Monkey interaction video later...

It works! Huh? What's the game about? My job, I just told you, pay attention. What is my job? Oh.

So part of the game's core design is based on part of my day-to-day doing security. We get a little scanner and have to walk across the entire facility, rain, snow, hurricane, tornado, nuclear apocalypse not withstanding, and then come back to the guard shack. I used to work nights, and nothing is scarier than the night shift. My friends called me Purple Guy IRL for a while...

Back on track! That's what the core of the game is. Don't get scared so bad you have a heart attack and finish your patrol.

The next part I wanted to get working was the scanner screen. I wanted to give players a list of places they need to go and where to scan in order to complete a patrol. After fucking around with render textures for a while, this was the result:

You can scroll the screen up and down to see what you need and what you missed. I'm using these silly little cat emojis for now, because it's funny.

IMMEDIATELY AFTER THIS, my power supply explodes and my NVMe storage dies, meaning I have to reinstall everything. This is why we make backups, folks! So after that whole bout of computer trouble, now I need to make the rest of the game...

Come back for part two! Will talk more about the game in the near future.

[crystalelemental]

Of course I'm going to sweep with my girl. I have to. I absolutely have to.

General Overview I usually give all information up front here, but in the interest of time, I'm going to hold off and make a reveal of something as I found out about it during testing. The short is, despite initial appearances, Liza actually functions well in Gauntlet, and doesn't need speed buffs. That sounds insane, given her 4-bar spam, but it's true. In fact, there are methods of completely ignoring gauge, while bypassing entire phases of the fight with the right sustain and setup.

That's your trade. Liza can spam her DPS and aim for the biggest sync, but does so with gauge control via someone like Skyla. Like most 4-bar spams, Liza's DPS is not so exceptional that she gets away without some defensive backbone, so using Skyla with her in Tornadus was demanded over the eggmon hope I had going in. Her flexibility is in giving up on the speed buffs for full bulk, and playing in an entirely different way.

Vs. Tapu Bulu Weak to Flying, this dude got iced. Eggmon was Scyther for speed, and saving Liza a turn of setup.

Vs. Tornadus Tornadus is a bitch, I hate Self Cleanse so much. Skyla had to be used over an eggmon, even Surge couldn't save Scyther. Or Arbok. Or anyone really.

Vs. Terrakion Terrakion is spooky, but not too hard to handle when you have a more defensive support like Skyla. Everyone takes Earthquake a lot easier. Flinch is still very necessary, though.

Vs. Cobalion Skyla beats this easier than most, given its primarily physical, single-target moveset.

Vs. Azelf Azelf is tricky, and this at least started the revelation. Azelf's problem is that it has physical damage reduction to the tune of 50% in the first half of each HP bar, rendering Liza's DPS spam useless. The plus side is, her sync is strong enough to push to halfway points, where Giga Impact can finish the job, pending the Iron Defense boosts also give +2 moves up next. You can see it there, but it gets ridiculous. It's also what we call foreshadowing.

Vs. Uxie Uxie was a bad idea, I don't know why I went back to eggmons, this was so spooky. Thank god Liza operates with +6 defense, that Zen Headbutt would've killed us.

Vs. Latias I hate this fight. I tried this with Grimsley, I really did, but he sucks so bad he can't tank anything. Absolutely useless clown man, you have +6 evasion! How did you never once dodge? Liza has the damage to handle it, but apparently you're just way better off debuffing.

Vs. Regirock And now, the reveal. Near the end of the first phase, Regirock threw up Crit Shield because Blue failed to flinch, like an idiot. Related, Blue is Rock weak, so bar 2 Rock Slide is a guaranteed kill if he doesn't flinch right there. So that's fun. Anyway. Because of this missed flinch, I already had +2 moves up next, and grumbled about not losing that, or risking shifting to Bar 2 while crit shield was still active. So I kept using Iron Defense. And this time I caught the trick.

Liza gets Free Moves every application, even if you're spamming Iron Defense. Liza doesn't need more gauges, because she won't touch them as you build up power. With a disruption bot beside her, Liza is able to stack moves up next for an explosive finish, that can, in some situations, clear the entire HP bar. Meaning, a finisher on bar 1 with sync, into a +10 moves up Giga Impact, clears multiple issues at once. I was too deep into this to back out, but in retrospect, Whitney is like her best partner, in both iterations. Base Whitney has Defense Crush 4 on grid as well as flinch and paralysis for Gauntlet disruption, while Winter Whitney has comparable flinch and AoE defense debuffing per attack, or the speed boosting Liza needs to spam DPS. The tradeoff is, flinch and disruption in general becomes highly important, so flinch and sleep chaining strats are Liza's best friend. These are relatively rare tools, but they're devastating when effective.

Vs. Entei Putting concept to practice, I then partnered her with BP Morty, who has an easy flinch rate for like no gauge, and the ability to buff team defenses, as well as Potion in the back. The results were wonderful. Sure enough, Liza easily handles the stage when disruption can be employed. Stacking these moves up effects works really, really well in Gauntlet.

Vs. Moltres Unfortunately, I did not feel like messing around with Moltres so we're back to Winona as the disruption bot. But the fun here is that employing this tactic can bypass mid-phase weather transitions. With Winona, that means her three are sufficient, even without a Tech nuke. It might mean, if sync and move can deal enough with -6 defense, that a 2MP weather Eggmon can succeed with Liza. I am just way too tired to deal with that right now.

[beifongsss]

blush [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Summary: Requested by anon “ Zuko x reader where she meets uncle iroh for the first time!!! Zuko has only talked to reader about him but she finally meets him”. Takes place when they find Iroh and the Order of the White Lotus right before Sozin’s Comet.

~

It had been a few weeks since Zuko had joined your group. And in those weeks, you had found yourself becoming a stuttering, blushing mess whenever he wandered anywhere near you. 

You had always thought that the prince was attractive but you kept those thoughts bottled away deep, deep inside your mind. He was the enemy. You shouldn’t have been fawning over his looks. However, now that he had had a change of heart and wanted to teach Aang firebending, a part of you couldn’t help but think that technically, your feelings weren’t forbidden anymore. 

Zuko and Aang spent most of their time training in the courtyard, which was a good thing seeing as how you spent most of your time there with either Sokka or Katara. It was quite a sight to see, the avatar being trained by the very person that used to be his sworn enemy. Their movements were strong and fierce, almost hypnotizing. It also didn’t hurt that Zuko had the tendency to lose his shirt halfway through their training sessions. 

Surprisingly, it was Sokka who had eventually caught on to your feelings instead of Katara. It hadn’t been hard considering that you were always bright red whenever Zuko was within twenty feet of you. Instead of confronting you and teasing you about it, he went to Zuko instead. 

~

Aang had scrambled off immediately after training, wanting to go for a ride on Appa. Shaking his head as Aang ran off, Zuko bent down to pick up his shirt, pulling it on before turning and coming face-to-face with Sokka.

“Agh!” Zuko exclaimed stumbling backwards at the water tribe boy’s sudden appearance before scowling. “What do you want?”

Sokka smiled widely, leaning on the pillar next to him. “Nothing. Just thought you should know that our very own (Y/N/N) has a crush on you. Although to tell you the truth, I don’t know what she sees in you buddy.”

Zuko’s scowl disappeared as he turned to glance at you. Sokka followed his line of sight, his smile becoming impossibly wider as he noticed Zuko’s puzzled expression. “N-No, there’s no way she likes me.”

“Believe me or don’t,” Sokka said, once again earning a scowl from the scarred prince. “But a girl like that? You’re one lucky guy.”

Sokka and Zuko stood in silence as they watched you talk to Katara, You had said something to her, causing her to bend a stream of water out of the fountain and splash you with it. You threw your head back as you laughed, unaware of the two boys watching you from a distance. 

Zuko’s chest tightened uncomfortably as he looked at you, a large smile still on your face as you splashed Katara with your foot. He had always thought that you were pretty, but his main concern had always been capturing the Avatar. Now that Aang’s capture wasn’t his concern, he could start to live his life as normally as he possibly could while in the midst of a giant war. And so, it was in that moment that he figured out that he had feelings for you as well. 

And of course, Sokka noticed and decided to take matters into his own hands.

~

It started off small. Sokka would make sure to call you and Zuko last for dinner so you’d end up sitting next to each other, he’d clean the sleeping hall and put your sleeping bags back next to one another, he would ask you to go hunt or get water together. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just Sokka being Sokka. 

Eventually, Aang and Toph caught on and things became more obvious. Their manner of approaching things was more direct, and it usually ended up with you stumbling into Zuko. One time, Aang had sent a gust of wind into a door you had just stepped through, causing it to slam into you and throw you into Zuko, who had been walking past at that particular moment. 

Another incident was when Zuko was making his way over to an empty seat and Toph had suddenly caused the ground to become uneven. Zuko had tripped, falling against you and bringing you down to the ground with him. Everyone had gone silent at the scene before them. Zuko was hovering above you, his arms on either side of your head as he tried not to crush you under him. You were staring at him, wide-eyed. Your chests brushed softly with every breath you took and in that moment, as you looked into each other’s eyes, it felt as though it was only the two of you in the Western Air Temple. 

Katara was the one to break the silence, clearing her throat and asking if the two of you were alright. Zuko had scrambled up, stumbling over his words as he assured everyone he was fine before extending a hand to you. He had underestimated his strength however, and pulled you up harder than he meant to, sending you crashing against him. Your free hand was pressed against his chest as you regained your balance, cheeks blazing bright red as you made eye contact with him. After a bunch of stuttered assurances that you were both fine, the two of you departed from the courtyard with Zuko heading into the nearby forest to release some of his pent-up emotions and you heading to the sleeping hall to think about what had just happened. 

By the end of the night, everyone knew how the two of you felt about each other. Even if the two of you were still unaware. 

~

After the incident Toph had caused, Zuko had begun to approach you more often. Everyone had been surprised, assuming that the incident would’ve just embarrassed Zuko to the point of no return and that he would simply avoid you. 

And so, a friendship blossomed between you and the prince. 

After seeing the way the two of you interacted, everyone had decided to stop trying to push you together. It was much more interesting to see you blush profusely and Zuko stutter for a ridiculously long time whenever your hands brushed against each other. Not to mention the way Zuko would be rendered speechless whenever your eyes sparkled as you talked about something important to you.

Teasing the two of you became the new normal and you often found yourselves going for walks in the woods to avoid everyone and converse without interruptions. The two of you opened up to each other fairly quickly, talking about everything and nothing. When you learned about how he had gotten his scar, you had hugged him tightly, making sure that he knew it wasn’t his fault and that he didn’t deserve what Ozai had put him through.

It was after this that he began to talk to you about his uncle Iroh and how he had been the only person who had ever truly loved him, other than his mother. He spoke about Iroh with great love and respect and you could feel your heart break at the pain Zuko felt after betraying Iroh.

“He hates me now,” Zuko said roughly, bowing his head as his eyes filled with tears. You approached him slowly, placing your fingers under his chin to lift his gaze towards yours. Your heart ached at the pain that was visible in his striking gold irises. 

“He doesn’t hate you,” you whispered, not breaking eye contact. “The way you talk about him, he’s like a father to you.”

“More of a father than Ozai ever was,” Zuko muttered softly, avoiding your gaze.

“He loves you,” you insisted. “He will forgive you. I know it.”

You engulfed Zuko in a hug to which he responded by pulling you close and finally allowing himself to cry. After that, your relationship was only strengthened and when you walked back into the Air Temple, everyone could tell. 

~

A while later, you all found yourselves back in the Earth Kingdom, looking for the woman (June, Zuko had called her) that Zuko had once employed to hunt you all down. After proclaiming that Aang was just gone from the physical world, Zuko had gotten desperate and attempted one last thing to try and gain an advantage over the Fire Lord. 

And that is how you found yourself sitting next to a visibly anxious Zuko as Appa followed the shirshu, who was tracking Iroh’s scent. You eventually found yourselves back in Ba Sing Se, June telling you that this was where Iroh was. You all traveled a little further before Zuko came to a stop.

“It’s been a long day,” he stated, pausing slightly. “Let's camp and start our search again at dawn.”

You helped Sokka set up camp, shooting worried glances at Zuko every once in a while. 

“So,” Sokka drawled as he nudged your shoulder, a wicked smirk appearing on his face. “How long is it gonna be before you and Prince Pouty over there are smooching?”

You straightened up, blushing at his words. “Sokka! Shut up. There is nothing going on between me and Zuko.”

Sokka scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sure there isn’t.”

The conversation ended as you walked off to your sleeping bag, curling up in it as you avoided Sokka’s teasing glances. You were beginning to drift off to sleep when you heard a familiar voice.

“Well look who’s here!”

You all shot up out of bed, with Toph shouting in the process. “What’s going on? We’re surrounded by old people!”

You felt Zuko holding onto your wrist, bringing you slightly behind him as you looked around. You felt a smile grow on your face as you recognized the people around you. “Bumi!”

Zuko’s expression changed into one of confusion as you ran forwards, stopping in front of each man to bow to them. 

“They aren’t just any old people,” Katara said, talking to Toph. “These are great masters and friends of ours.”

Zuko approached slowly, bowing to Jeong Jeong when Katara introduced him as Aang’s first firebending teacher. Sokka bowed to Piandao before Suki broke the silence. “So wait, how do you all know each other?”

“All old people know each other,” Bumi snorted. “Don’t you know that?”

“We're all part of the same ancient secret society,” Piandao explained, looking at everyone. “A group that transcends the divisions of the four nations.”

“The Order of the White Lotus,” Zuko breathed, realizing that Iroh was much closer than he thought. 

“That’s the one,” Bumi confirmed, still chuckling. 

“The White Lotus has always been about philosophy and beauty and truth,” Jeong Jeong said. “But about a month ago, a call went out that we were needed for something important.”

“It came from a Grand Lotus,” Pakku continued, turning to face Zuko. “Your uncle, Iroh of the Fire Nation.”

Zuko smiled softly, Toph coming up behind him to speak. “Well that’s who we’re looking for!”

“Then we’ll take you to him,” Piandao stated, a nervous look overtaking Zuko’s face.

~

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, sitting next to Zuko as the masters led you to their camp.

“Yes,” Zuko spoke sharply before glancing at you, his tone softening. “No. I don’t know. What will I say when I see him?”

“You’ll figure it out Zuko,” you replied. “And he’ll forgive you, because that’s what people who love you do.”

Zuko didn’t reply, instead choosing to reach down and intertwine your hands. You were both glad that it was dark out so that no one would notice the blush dusting your cheeks. 

You reached the camp far more quickly than expected. Zuko felt his heart race as you came to a stop in the middle of the camp, facing Piandao when he addressed him. 

“Your uncle is in there Prince Zuko,” he said, pointing to a white tent standing across from the spot you were standing in before walking away. 

You made a move to walk over to Katara and Sokka when Zuko’s hand tightened around yours, “Please stay with me.”

You hesitated slightly before nodding, following him to the entrance of the tent.

“Are you ready?” you asked softly, squeezing his hand. Zuko nodded before moving forward, his hand squeezing yours desperately.  

“Uncle?” Zuko asked quietly, entering the tent. He stopped in his tracks, a soft smile appearing when he saw his uncle snoring softly on a cot. Silently, he sat down, pulling you with him as he curled up on the mat. You took a seat beside him, his head landing on your lap as he laid down. You leaned against a crate that sat next to you, your hands running through Zuko’s hair until his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. It was only then that you closed your eyes as well.

~

Zuko awoke when he heard a slight chuckle, and sat up to face his uncle. Immediately, Zuko threw himself forward onto his knees, his eyes not meeting Iroh’s as he remembered what you had told him about apologizing. “Uncle, I know you must have mixed feelings about seeing me. But I want you to know, I am so, so, sorry, Uncle. I am so sorry and ashamed of what I did. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you. But I'll- “

Zuko’s rambling was cut off as Iroh knelt down in front of him and embraced him. His eyes began watering, tears spilling as he hugged his Uncle. “How can you forgive me so easily? I thought you would be furious with me.”

“I was never angry with you,” Iroh said. “I was sad because I was afraid you lost your way.”

“I did lose my way,” Zuko mumbled. 

“But you found it again,” Iroh said, pulling back from the embrace and motioning towards you. “And something tells me she had something to do with it.”

Zuko didn’t reply, his face going bright red as Iroh chuckled. He had nothing to say, knowing that his uncle was right.

“Tell her how you feel soon, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said, smiling softly. “Do not let her get away.”

~

You emerged from the empty tent a while later to find everyone sitting around a fire. Quickly noticing the man sitting next to Zuko, you proceeded to bow down to him. 

“General Iroh!” you said. “It is an honor to be in your presence. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Iroh chuckled before waving you over to the empty seat next to him. “No need for the formalities Miss (Y/N). And it is I who am honored to be here with you. I have heard much about you from my nephew and I must thank you for taking care of him while I was gone.”

You missed the blush on Zuko’s face that appeared at Iroh’s words, too distracted by the cup of tea that the once-general had handed you. You took a sip, your eyes widening in wonder as you looked at Iroh once more.

“This tea is amazing! Ginseng tea is my favorite,” you exclaimed, taking another sip. Iroh smiled at you before sending a teasing glance at Zuko.

“It is my favorite as well,” Iroh chuckled. “I am glad to see that my nephew has such great taste in women.”

A silence followed, only made awkward by Zuko’s stuttering. 

“Uncle!” Zuko hissed, glaring at the jolly old man who simply took another sip of tea. 

Neither one of you had a chance to reply as the conversation soon turned serious. With Aang gone, you all needed to think of a plan just in case he didn’t return in time. It was then decided that Zuko and Katara would head to the palace to fight Azula while you, Sokka, Suki, and Toph would stop the airship fleet. It wasn’t until you were gathering your tools and weapons that Zuko managed to pull you aside. 

“Look (Y/N),” he began, fidgeting nervously. “Just in case something happens-”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” you cut him off, placing your hand over his to stop it from shaking. “We’re all going to be fine.”

“Just in case,” Zuko stressed. “I need you to know...”

“What Zuko?” you questioned, ducking your head to catch his gaze. He stared at you for a few seconds, causing you to shift under his gaze. “What is i-”

You were cut off as Zuko leaned forwards, connecting his lips to yours. You gasped softly before returning the kiss eagerly. You stayed like that for a few seconds before being broken apart by Sokka’s voice.

“Hey!” Sokka cried. “As glad as I am that you and Prince Pouty are finally smooching, we really do have to save the world right now.”

Chuckling softly, Zuko pressed another kiss to your lips before pulling away. 

“Stay safe,” you breathed, embracing him one last time. 

“Trust me, I will,” Zuko whispered into your ear. “Now I have someone worth fighting for.”

You watched him walk away, only looking away when you felt something hit your head. Turning, you found yourself facing an impatient Sokka, motioning for you to climb onto the eel hound. “Are you done? let’s go.”

Grinning, you grabbed his hand, sliding onto the eel hound behind him. You were ready to fight, knowing that Zuko would be waiting for you when this was all over. 

~

so the sokka fic will be out soon but for now here is this zuko fic. i hope its alright its my first time writing for him. hope you all enjoy :)

[aalbedo]

injured!tartaglia x reader (part 2)

part two of this

request: Hello I absolutely loved your one shot of Tartaglia helping an injured reader sdjgksjfkf if you don't mind I'd like to request a part 2 where reader asks him the story behind that big scar he pointed out? Maybe reader finds HIM injured and returns the favor and asks about his other scars while they treat his wounds?? Ahaha reader's just like "fuck I can't just leave you here to bleed out but don't you dare think this means I care for you or anything" lmao

format: two-parter (again, read part one first)

ship: tartaglia x reader

tags: fluff, reader is the traveler-ish (a completely separate character from aether and lumine, but still the traveler, does that make sense?), author forgets basic wound care halfway into the fic

warnings: blood, mildly graphic depiction of injury, stitches and needles

words: 3027

notes: hey so uhhhhhhhh i kinda went off the rails with this one, i didn't really follow the prompt in some points since uh... the part about the stories behind the scars... i kinda forgot about that... or like... eh you'll see, anyway, - banner still fucked up it will be fixed i prommy

Despite the high number of hilichurl camps, abyss mages, fatui agents, ruin hunters and ruin guards, Lisha was still one of your favorite places to explore, it was full of treasure chests to open, sweet flowers to pick and ore to mine. Plus, the atmosphere managed to still be peaceful, the open fields where the sun would shine uninterrupted for hours and hours on end were your favorite place to sit down and bask in the sunlight.

Your leg was still recovering from the tough hit you had taken a few weeks prior, which meant that you had to take more breaks while adventuring. Not that you would complain, taking breaks, putting some numbing cream on your wound, eating some reinvigorating food and drinking fresh water was just as satisfying as exploring.

After resting for about half an hour, you decided to get up, careful not to put any pressure on your injured leg. You threw your bag over your shoulder and walked north-west, towards the road to the chasm.

In the distance, you started hearing sounds of fighting, and as you got closer to them, you could see a tall figure fighting not one, but two separate ruin hunters, with a bow. It was too far away to see the person’s face, but you had half an idea of who it could be.

Then, out of nowhere, a bright purple flash, and in less than a second the ruin hunters were both on the ground, completely destroyed. Yep, it’s Tartaglia.

You thought about turning away and changing your direction before he could see you. You had already reluctantly thanked him for helping you that day, as well as paying for your medication out of his own pocket, but you still felt like you owed him a favor that you really did not want to fulfill. He was still the guy that almost destroyed Liyue, and made you fight for your life, despite everything.

Until you saw him fall to his knees, and as he turned to face your direction you could see his chest covered in blood.

You acted on instinct, ignoring your brain telling you to leave him alone, that he could tend to his own wounds, and you sprinted towards him. He may be an asshole, but you just want to avoid him, not leave him to die.

He was resting his back on a wall, head thrown back. Even from far away, you could see that he was breathing heavily. That same backpack you had seen on him the day he helped you was now sitting next to him, his left hand already rummaging through it.

His head shot up, he had definitely heard you coming towards him, his eyes widened as you kneeled down right in front of him and got a better look at his condition. You could see a cut crossing his chest, from his right shoulder to the middle of his torso, right over his heart. His grey coat was soaked in blood, as it pooled on the bend of his hips and slid down to the ground.

“So you do care about me.” he broke the silence, struggling to talk through heavy breaths and groans. He was completely out of breath, covered in blood, definitely in pain, and all he could think about was joking.

“I don’t. Just because I hate you, it doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.” You didn’t have time to get mad at him. “Also - I owe you a favor, I guess.” The only thought in your head was to help him, so you did not think twice before quickly unbuttoning his coat and undercoat and moving them out of the way.

You got a look at his chest and through the blood you could see several other scars, most of them looked years old, a few of them looked pretty large, carving his chest and abdomen. You wondered if his entire body looked like this, and why his face didn’t.

“Like what you see?” he joked again, his voice sounded hoarse, strained, very clearly struggling to talk. You sighed, couldn’t he just shut up for a minute?

You turned to your own bag to pull out anything you might need to help him. Potions, numbing cream and even a stitching kit laid next to you. You had bought the kit after that day, and started learning how to stitch wounds.

“No,” you dismissed him again. He whined quietly, you weren’t sure if it was because of your response or the wound.

All of the sudden, you felt… fear? Fear of what? Him passing out? And anger, at the fact that he wasn’t taking the situation as seriously as you were. He could easily die from this wound and all he was doing was making jokes.

You quickly started cleaning the blood with a cloth in one hand, while holding a bottle of antiseptic potion in your left, ready to pour it on top of the cut. You were being quick, passing your hand over his chest as fast as you could, trying to gather all the blood while avoiding the open skin, but there was so much of it that in mere seconds the cloth was soaked and completely useless.

You looked up at him and he was staring at the ground, his eyes completely unfocused. “Childe,” you called him and he squeezed his eyes closed, “try to stay awake.”

“Easy to say,” he muttered. At least he was awake.

You threw away the bloody cloth, and poured the antiseptic potion directly on his scar with no warning. Despite knowing that you were just helping him, a wave of guilt washed over you as you heard him cry out from the pain and throw his head back, wincing again when he hit the wall.

Half a bottle of potion and another clean cloth drenched in blood later, the wound had completely stopped bleeding, and you finally breathed out all the tension you were holding in your body.

His face, and body, were completely pale from the blood loss. His mouth was agape, eyelids half closed - looking at you, he sighed, barely letting any air out. You glared back, but by the way his head was positioned, you couldn’t help but look at his lips, the way they moved slightly every time he breathed out, they seemed so… soft, sweet. You brushed aside a thought that had snaked into your brain. His mouth curled up and he barked a laugh, but he stopped immediately and groaned again. Had he noticed that you were looking?

“Don’t laugh, it’ll hurt you,” you reminded him as you threw away the second blood drenched cloth.

“Sure,” he replied, voice still strained. “Whatever you say.”

You find a third cloth, the only clean one you had left, used some water from your bottle to make it damp and used it to wash your hands.

“Don’t talk either,” you looked at him as you opened a small glass jar containing numbing cream. “What were you thinking, being here alone and fighting two ruin guards?” He opened his mouth. “Don’t answer, you’ll tell me later.”

“I was just collecting some debts when those two attacked me.” He groaned again.

“I said, don’t talk if it hurts.” You made it clear from your tone that you were annoyed at the way that he was acting.

You dipped a couple of fingers into the cream, and hesitated before placing your bare hand on his chest, carefully placing the cream around the wound, so that he would not feel pain when you would be stitching it closed. As you got a better look at the cut, you noticed how the skin had been basically mangled, it looked like it would not be an easy recovery.

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” he pointed out, before groaning again. You were starting to wish you had taped his mouth with something.

“Because I know what I’m doing, I’m not an idiot. And you’re making me regret helping you, just shut up already.”

“Make me.”

Your hand froze over his skin. You moved your eyes back up to him, trying to decipher his expression. Was that an invitation, or just teasing? He hadn’t even tried to put on a smug face, his expression just looked tired and worn out, which made it even harder to decipher.

The longer you looked at him, the weirder it would get, you would have to do something before it got awkward and that thought from earlier slammed back into your head.

You wanted to wish you had run the other way, but the truth was that you were glad you hadn’t. Maybe it was all of the tension you had accumulated while seeing all that blood flow out of him, maybe it was the heavy lidded look he was giving you, but you placed your clean hand on the side of his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes widened, mouth parted ready to say something, but, before he could, your lips were on his.

The kiss was fast, you pulled back almost immediately and averted his gaze right away. You could feel him staring at you as you put your hand back into the jar and picked up some more cream.

“I didn’t think you would actually-” he didn’t finish the sentence.

You quickly caught a glimpse of his expression before focusing on taking care of the wound. You contained a laugh as you saw him look absolutely dumbfounded and flustered, he had seriously been rendered completely speechless by what could barely be considered a kiss. If he hadn’t lost that much blood that day, his cheeks would definitely be red.

Honestly, you couldn’t believe what had happened either. You couldn’t believe you had even done it. You could’ve just laughed it off and kept medicating him in silence. But you were glad that you didn’t.

Neither of you uttered a word for a while, and even though the atmosphere wasn’t explicitly awkward, you wished he would say something. After a thick layer of numbing cream and several minutes of silence, you finally gathered the courage to look back at him. He was clearly pretending to look away, as if he hadn’t spent the entire time looking at you working.

“Is the pain gone? Can I stitch it now?” Your voice came out unexpectedly soft. You touched the skin around the wound, waiting to get a reaction from him.

His head snapped back to face you, and he nodded. “Can’t feel a thing,” he said as he touched his own chest. “I can stitch it though, if you wa- Ah!” He lifted his right arm, the injured one, and immediately stopped mid-air, “fuck- shit, not this,” he almost yelled.

“You ripped a tendon.” You gently took his right arm, putting it back down for him, and looked at his shoulder. “I’ll stitch it, don’t worry - I’ve learned.”

He didn’t say anything, and you took it as permission. You opened the kit you had bought at Bubu pharmacy weeks prior: recurved needle, thread and tweezers. You could feel Tartaglia’s gaze on you as you struggled passing the thread through the needle, but in the end you managed to do it.

As you hovered over the wound, your gaze fell on a large scar, the one that would normally be visible from over his coat on his neck, and it went down over the left side of his body down until his hip. It looked pretty old, but it was still very visible.

“Can I ask you… how did you get that?”

“Mh?”

You pointed at the scar with your pinkie and slightly traced over it, “this scar, what happened?”

He followed your finger with his gaze, and kept his eyes on the scar even as you moved back to the still open wound. “Oh, that?” You passed the needle through the skin and pulled it out on the other side. “I was 14.”

You saw some blood trickle from the cut as you carefully pulled the thread and passed the needle through one more time. By the way he had spoken, you felt like he was going to continue talking, so you didn’t interrupt.

“Uhm, when I was 14, I-” you heard him pass his tongue over his lips, “the Abyss, you know.” You nodded quietly as you passed the needle through a few more times.

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” you reassured him, you knew that it was a pretty sensitive topic, or at least you imagined it would be. You stitched a few more loops with ease, getting progressively more comfortable with what you were doing.

“It’s fine, I- I was in-” his voice was starting to shake the slightest bit, but you noticed the change of tone in his voice.

You finally reached the end, and you cut the thread, tying it tightly at the end. You put the needle and the tweezers back into their container.

“I had to fight this… huge- and when-” once you looked up at him, you realized how lost in thought he was, looking at his scar, unable to take his eyes off it, he was probably getting some flashbacks. “I-” his voice cracked, his lower lip trembled ever so slightly, and you could not bear it anymore. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed the side of his face and dragged him in for an actual, proper kiss.

He fell right into it and reciprocated immediately, placing his left hand on the side of your waist. It was sweet, and tender, and you got a better feel of what his lips were like: just as soft as they looked.

You pulled back first once again, and as you got to look at his surprised face, eyebrows raised and everything, your mind started racing. You had just kissed not just a Fatui, not just a Harbinger, but the Harbinger that had tried to kill you, that manipulated you and that nearly destroyed Liyue for the second time. And he was sitting in front of you looking like an idiot.

You couldn’t figure out what you were feeling, but there was something going on deep in your chest, and stomach.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you quickly clarified before he could say anything. “Neither of them do, they were just to shut you up.”

“Were they?” he asked. And just like that, he came full circle back to the false smugness.

You really, really did not want to think about the weird feeling that was growing in your stomach. “Look at what I got from Baizhu.” From your bag, you pulled out a thick strip made out of cotton and a small vial full of Slime concentrate.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“What do they mean to you?” you bit back, waiting to see if he would face the question himself, or back out like a hypocrite.

“What did you get from Baizhu?”

You both chuckled, and you noticed his bare chest rising and falling back down as he laughed. “He said it’s a new type of bandaging, you use slime concentrate to stick it to the skin.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t love the sound of that, actually.”

“I was skeptical too the first time I tried it, but trust me - it’s much more comfortable.” You heard him sigh in defeat as you already spread some of the slime condensate over the strip, and set down the half empty vial. “It won’t hurt.”

“Do you promise?”

He looked into your eyes with a relaxed expression, you looked right back. “I promise,” you replied with a kind smile, before turning your attention to the strip and stuck it over the wound, carefully placing it so that it would cover the entire cut.

“All done,” you said as you started getting up, but you felt a hand grabbing your arm, another one grabbing the side of your face, and tugging you back down, and before you could realize it your lips were once again on Tartaglia’s.

You couldn’t help but reciprocate the kiss, his lips were still soft, and at that point you felt like you could get used to them. The kiss was exactly as gentle as the one before, you could feel your fluttering in your chest as Tartaglia’s thumb started gently rubbing your cheekbone.

He pulled back first this time, and as you opened your eyes back you could see a wide smile on his face.

“Sending me mixed signals, huh?” you pointed out.

“I told you, I never had anything against you personally,” he said as he put his clothes back on, trying to fix them as much as possible, despite the very clear cut on his chest and the blood covering them completely.

“I’m gonna need some time before I’ll believe that.” You got up and reached down a hand for him to get up. “You’re gonna need to prove it to me.”

He grabbed it with his non-injured hand and stood up beside you. “While you take your time, care to walk me to Bubu pharmacy, so I can buy some of these sticky bandages?” he asked, a wide smile still on his face.

“Sure,” you simply replied, picking up both of your back and tossing them over your shoulder.

You watched him move his injured arm slightly, to figure out how much he could move it. Unsurprisingly, not much.

He hummed. “I’m gonna have to take some time off from duty, hopefully they won’t kill me for it,” he said in a joking manner, but you could sense that he wasn’t kidding about the killing part.

“Well,” as you both started walking back to the harbor, you got an idea, “you could use the time off to show me that you truly don’t hate me.”

“Like what?” You could feel his gaze on you.

“Like, we could go out for dinner,” you suggested, keeping your eyes in front of you. “In a completely neutral way, and then see what happens from there.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’s a plan, then.”

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 8

The Darkling x Reader

'Are you busy?' You had taken to looking for Aleksander to entertain yourself. You had already done the usual routine for the day and were bored. You had been intending to speak with him for a while but he always seemed to be busy when you asked for him. You had an inkling he knew what you wanted but was scared to approach the topic. Your wandering around the Palace and acting like a leader surely hadn't gone unnoticed by him.

You finally found him in the courtyard hopping off of his horse, looking as regal and handsome as always. The way he stood while talking to his stable boy gave you a clear view of the embroidery on the back of his kefta. The weaves of black shadows seemed to have grown since the last time you had such a close look. Magnificent

'I think I can find a moment out of my day for you' He briefly took your hand in his and lightly traced your knuckles with his thumb in a soothing manner. He always does this.

'Fantastic, I've been meaning to thank you for welcoming me back into the Palace, I feel I owe you big time.' Butter him up first.

'Nonsense, this is as much your home as it is mine' He said and started to walk towards the entrance.

'Well, in that case, is it possible for me to take up my old position?'

You studied his face while a knowing smile replaced his emotionless expression. He didn't look in the least surprised.

'How long have you been waiting to ask me that?' You couldn't help but laugh. I knew he knew.

'I have nothing else to do. I can't just sit and pamper myself for the rest of my life as lovely as that sounds.'

'Do you think you're up for it? It has been a while since you commanded an army.'

You'd be surprised. You were about to give him all the reasons you were even more suited now but he abruptly stopped and looked deep into your eyes, catching you off guard. He looked at you with longing and love. It suddenly rendered you speechless.

'So?' he quirked his head and wore that boyish smile that you loved so much.

'As a matter of fact, yes. If you wish, I'll even take over those boring council meetings with the King to prove myself.' He raised his eyebrows and let out a short hum.

'That does sound like a very advantageous proposition.'

'So I'm assuming that's a yes?'

'I shall think about it.' He looked away, away from your addicting stare and those beautiful eyes.

'Thank- what?'

Did I hear that right?

'You're going to think about giving me my own position back? I made it in the first place! It was made for me!' If anybody walked past the two of your right now, they would surely think you were about to rip his head off.

'A lot has changed since then Y/N' He attempted to walk away but you had other plans.

'Where do you think you're going? We're not done here!' You ran in front of him.

'Y/N I have business to attend to'

'So do I, and it's this' He let out an exasperated sigh.

'I said I'll think about it, I never said no'

'But you never said yes'

'I'll have to run it by the King and the rest of the council. How do you think they'll respond to me appointing a brand new Grisha as Deputy-General? A Grisha like you nonetheless, they’ve never heard of your kind'

There it was. A Grisha like me. He was scared.

'I'll talk to them myself then, maybe even tell him a story or two.' You were so enraged you considered going to the King right then and there. With a little pressure on his old heart, you would be sure to get his approval.

His demeanor suddenly changed. You were talking to the General now. Great, you thought he's talking to the Deputy-General.

'Don't you even dare.'

'You're not leaving me with much of a choice. I'll reduce this place to ash if you're not careful with your words, Aleksander' You went to turn and leave but he gripped your arm and he pulled you closer to him.

'You are so sure of yourself. Did all those years alone make you so arrogant, or were you always like this?' His words were like venom to your heart but fuel for your rage. You shook his hand off.

'That is very rich of you to say don't you think?' Your hands suddenly felt very fidgety and hot.

'Y/N I suggest you calm down before making threats to your General. You should be glad I haven't chained you thus far.' His own hands balled into fists as he restrained himself.

This was your last straw, with a loud whoosh, you sent a stream of fire his way to distract him while a nice gust of wind knocked him to his knees in front of you. You grasped his hands in yours and slowed his heartbeat, relaxing him. His eyes swirled with fear.

'Go on, send the shadows, I'll gladly take them' you said through your teeth.

Suddenly you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, oprichniki. Aleksander looked at them and shook his head. Ivan looked livid. Good for him.

You roughly let go and took a step back, disappointed that he didn't make a move.

'You better think quickly' You warned and walked off.

Suits him right.

******

Your chambers were trashed, the mirrors smashed and the bed overturned. Screams and shouts still echoed over the walls yet nobody came to check on you. The whole reason for your return was to take back your title, to be yourself again, and leave your nasty past behind you.

You swore you were better now, that you could control your impulses, that power wasn't a temptation anymore, but you were wrong. You undermined Aleksander today, embarrassed the General in front of his soldiers. But he didn't punish you. You always knew that wherever Aleksander was involved, your loss of control followed. You never understood why.

He got one thing right though, you needed to calm down. Your mind couldn't get over the feeling right before the guards came, the feeling of almost having his glorious shadows. Of almost having that part of him again. There it is again, the temptation of power. You shook your head to rid of the thought.

You had momentarily thought about taking Alina and some of her power, but quite frankly you didn't feel the need anymore. Shadows were your thing, you always had an air of darkness. So does he. You didn't fit the light, but she did.

Sleep wouldn't come to you, not even briefly. You stared at the damage of the room in the moonlight and thought back to the image of him on his knees in front of you, fearing evident in his eyes. He looked so good on his knees.

You shot up from the bed and yanked the door open, walking with a purpose, your rage having a strange effect on you. You needed him.

******

Aleksander sat at his desk, halfway through a bottle of whiskey. He couldn't stop thinking of what you did. How such a small thing had affected you and made you snap. Your eyes held darkness he had never seen before, not even in himself.

He hoped your intentions were pure, it was better than the reality he imagined in his head as you held an iron grip on his hands and slowed his heart. You looked hungry; ravenous for more.

There was a time when your power made him more attracted to you, you were his equal in his eyes. Together the two of you were unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. But all of it changed when he seen how little you understood the power you had. Your powers were always ruled by your emotions and not by you. Today just proved to him that even after 98 years of practice, you were still a loose cannon.

He couldn't bring himself to use the shadows on you, not because you would've taken them, but because he didn't want to hurt you. For a split second, he was scared you would do something to him, but it was overpowered by the fear of what you could do to his life; turn it upside down and inside out. And he would let you.

He couldn't decide if he hated you for undermining him or whether he wanted you even more than he ever did. The tension between you two was always thick, but when he was on his knees in front of you, he couldn't help but think back to all the times he'd done it willingly, worshipping you at your feet. Rightfully so. You were a goddess in his eyes.

A door opening and shutting tore him away from his thoughts. He looked up and there you were, in nothing but a nightgown, flushed and breathing hard.

Part 9

ITS COMING sorry I’m making u wait but there’s nothing better than post-fight (literally) sex 😊😊😊

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl

[honesthammie]

Prompt 39: Death wants you to be terrified. But the scariest thing is wanting death.

13th Doctor x female curvy reader

Warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughts, alcohol and drug abuse, domestic abuse, fat phobia

I'm sorry for this. Its really depressing and I've been hesitant on letting you guys see it but I kinda like how it's written. I've made the abuser gender neutral as females can also be abusive. I promise the next one will be much happier!

"Come on (y/n), you can make it! Just jump across and reach for my hand. I promise you won't fall." The Doctors voice echoes across the widening canyon. If you looked down, you would only see pitch black. You didn't know how long you'd fall. Maybe this would be the perfect time to just go for it. Its not like you'd matter, you're only slowing the team down as is.

They wouldn't even be in this mess if you didn't slip and hit the world shattering drill, turning it on full blast. Unfortunately, you smashed the button making it unable to turn it off. Of course the only way you'd be able to turn it off is to actually go towards it. Everyone in the room screamed at you and some raised their tentacles to attack you if the Doctor didn't step in front of you. You know the Doctor noticed you flinching and your eyes gloss over and noticed you bracing for the impact.

You learned over the years to just accept your fate. You can't run from anyone when you weighed this much. You couldn't hide either, which often left you to just accept what was coming and hope nothing broke. Bruises were always easy to cover and so were any cuts but broken bones, that was always on display and you'd have to break your number one rule: never lie. You hated lying. The truth always comes out anyway so why hide it? If you hide it, you get punished worse anyway so why bother?

If you jumped and actually went with the team, you'd get questioned about earlier and about hesitating at jumping. But if you fell, would the Doctor miss you? As much as you hated to admit it, you were absolutely in love with the adorable alien. Why did you hate to admit it? Because she was a goddess and you were a waste of skin and bones. You weren't skinny and you didn't fit in with the team at all. You were only here out of pity.

You remember when you first met the team. You were the only person alive when they searched underneath the hotel. Even the spiders didn't want you. You were at the hotel because you heard about killer spiders and you wanted an out. You could never do it or something would come up stopping you from ending all your misery. You were the complete opposite of the Doctor. She was so brave and said whatever she wanted and didn't really care for the consequences.

You focused on the Doctors sparkling eyes. Despite the situation, she still sparkled with hope and encouragement. She wasn't upset with you. You really wished she was. This would be such an easier decision to make. Your head was pounding and your heart was going faster than her two hearts. Did you even want her upset? You couldn't tell, your head was spinning wildly, one thought going to another without a chance to process the last one.

You had come to a clear decision. You ran back and let momentum do its thing as your feet left the muddy gravel. You felt so free as you glided in the air for a few seconds. It was the most beautiful feeling. No punishment, no tears before going to sleep and no terror of going back home. Just you and gravity.

Then with a clearer mind you regretted your choice. You were horrified. You weren't ready. It wasn't time yet. Graham can't lose you. He'd only recently lost his wife. He'd feel the same as you and that thought terrified you. He'd survived cancer and gained himself a new family. He can't be like you. Ryan needed him, wether he was willing to admit that or not.

Suddenly you panicked and last minute reached your hand out hoping you'd grab something. Anything. You felt a soft warm object and latched on for dear life. You were then lifted up and onto soil. You focused on your breathing a moment and waited for your heart to calm down. You looked up and saw what, or rather who, saved you. You shouldn't have been so surprised to see the Doctors worried face above yours. She gave you a questioning look, knowing the question, you nodded your head and she straightened herself and helped you up.

"That was great (n/n)! So brave of you! Let's go gang, we've gotta turn this drill off before it splits the planet in half!" She shouted as she ran forward, seemingly knowing the way. She didn't let go of your hand until you reached the drill about 10 minutes later. You couldn't help the blushthat formed on your cheeks. The Doctor quickly opened a panel on the side of the drill.

The drill was massive, bigger than the Eiffel Tower and that what was on surface level, it went down much deeper that it had reached halfway to the liquid nitrogen that ran in this cold planet where our magma centre would be. The drill itself was purple and spherical. The panel box was the size of a human head which was about the size of the civilisations sucker pads. Inside were 3 buttons and 1 lever. You needed to type the pattern that would gain the access to the drill and force stop. If it goes wrong, it speeds up rendering this planet uninhabitable.

You watched as the Doctor quickly typed the pattern in. Red,blue,red,red,red,blue,black,black,blue. That was the pattern she quickly pressed in and held the lever down for 10 seconds. Soon the drill came to a halt and the planet was peaceful once again. You all let out a sigh of relief as it stopped.

You made your way back to the chief of the race and explained that they should dismantle and never use that drill again unless they plan to empty the panet of everything it has within. He quickly agreed and the fam made their way back to the TARDIS.

As soon as tye TARDIS was parked on the edge of your solar system, you got into your comfy clothes ready to nap or maybe play a few games to slow your adrenaline until you were tired enough for a full nights rest. You played a few rounds of uno and some poker where you used some bits of metal instead of chips. Eventually everyone had left except you and the Doctor.

You made your way to the doors of the ship and settled down just watching the stars in front of you. If the sentient machine hadn't already been aware of your darkest thought, you would have jumped out there and been amongst them. Just floating eventually turning to nothing but bones drifting, maybe to never be found. All the sights you've seen and yet this is where you were the most impressed. This was your home, your galaxy and because of all the light pollution, you had never been fully aware of how many neighbours you had because you had been literally blind. This was only stuff captured and faked and now, it's forever in your mind.

You heard movement and a shuffle next you. You knew who it was because she was the only other person awake and you knew she was going to ask and not let it drop until you tell her truth. And you were going to give her it but that doesn't mean you were ready to do so but you had to, someone had to know. Maybe you wanted help or maybe just someone to listen and know everything making you mentally naked in front of them.

The Doctor waited a few moments. She was figuring out how to word it without sounding horrible. "Is everything alright at home?" She asked her voice laced with genuine concern. "Sorry if this sounds a bit abrupt but let me explain. You've been really weird lately. You hardly speak and when you its with as few words as possible, you keep going elsewhere mentally and Rassilion forbid anyone getting angry with you! I also noticed how you hesitated today when jumping and I saw your worry and panic when you jumped. I think I know but I can't help you if you don't at least tell me what is going on! And don't change the subject or anything, just answer me please. I lo-. I can't lose you too." Her voice raised a little as she panicked just speaking about it. Halfway through she grabbed both of your hands and continued her speech.

You looked deep into her eyes for any sign of a lie but there wasn't one. Just like at the canyon, her eyes showed nothing but love. Maybe you should tell her, just her. No Yaz, no Graham and no Ryan. Just you, The Doctor and the TARDIS. You looked away for a moment as you collected your thoughts. However, as you opened your mouth and tried to speak, you found no voice. You couldn't tell her about them. Lord knows what she's capable of. But you've been looking for an out for so damn long. Maybe this is it. She's your out, no death involved.

You walked towards a panel in the console and pushed your hands inside and focused. You focused on the worst time it happened. You concentrated on the fear and everything attached. You couldn't tell her, but you could show her. The TARDIS disappeared into the vortex but didn't seem so sure on landing. She was picking it all up, she felt everything you did and she did not like going. "Please baby girl, I need her to know. I need help but I can't tell her. She's my only out that doesn't involve death and that terrifies me! Please. I understand your hesitation but she needs to see." You spoke mentally to the sentient blue box. She made a sad sound as she gently landed in the moment.

The Doctor looked at you bewildered. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape. You walked up to her and grabbed her hand reassuringly. You led her to the doors that separated her from your darkest secret. You took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

You appeared to be in the basement of your house. You walked up the stairs and took her to a storage room where she could see it happen. You sat in silence for a few minutes only the sounds of breathing and your heartbeat could be heard.

You knew this day off by heart, it plagued your nightmares often. It all started to sweet and went sour so quickly. At this time you were currently on your way back from doing your weekly shop to Tescos making sure you didn't forget their vodka and gin on your way to pay. Thankfully, the shop was only 10 minuets away and you doubted that the TARDIS would make you wait longer than nessacary. Just as the Doctor opened her mouth to speak the door opened and in walked an 18 year old you.

You set the bags down and started sorting the items into their new places. The canned foods go in the cupboard and the meat goes into the fridge. There were loads of food and stuff to go through and place properly. After you placed the last can of baked beans into the cupboard, the door swung open, nearly breaking the door.

They came home from their dealers place early. They stunk of weed and alcohol and had a little white powder around their nose. They looked like they had a good time until they had to come home. It was their dealers birthday so he was having a brothel themed party meaning there were strippers, pole dancers and prostitutes as well. The dealer was a rich guy who practically ran this city. The cops couldn't do anything as he could always bail himself out of jail.

They looked you in your comfy clothes and scoffed. They looked angry. "Why aren't you in your normal clothes babes? I thought I told you to throw away all of that shit. Come on now. Don't tell me I wasted all my well earned money on those clothes I specifically chose for you?"

You shuddered, both in the past and now except now they only made bile rise into your throat. You were so young and vulnerable. Now you know better.

The past you quickly scampered off to get changed. After only 5 minutes you reappeared in what was sexy school girl. The blue miniskirt covered less than most underwear so you were forced to wear a thong. The shirt was a bralet that barely covered your nipples. Your hair was in pigtails and you wore thigh highs. The sight made you silently sick in your mouth. You looked pathetic and weak.

You looked at them expectingly. You were waiting for your next order from them. They seemed to drool at the sight of you. "That's better babes. Why didn't you go shopping like that? Show the world your fat ugly figure? I want you to walk out there and see that no one else wants you but here I am, loving you. I am the only one who will ever like you in the way we have now. Your lucky I've had some fun tonight. All I want is my vodka and a new blunt darling"

You quickly went and grabbed their stuff and walked towards them as they settled in front of the TV. They turned the TV on and put Love Island on. How you hated that show. It made you feel bad for being the size you are. The women on there were beautiful but you also knew that, that kind of beauty costs money. So while your partner had fun watching the show for the romance, you watched it to spot what part of them was bought and what was real. Almost all the women had fake teeth and breasts. You hated how your partner would make snide comments on how they looked compared to you.

"You should be looking like Becky ya know. Beautiful teeth, big perky tits and a fucking great ass. What do you have? Flabs!" And there was the first comment of the day. The first of 30, you counted.

"Yeah well you are fucking broke so I can't look like fucking fake ass Becky or the others!" You thought. Then the Doctor gave you a look of shock and pity and then you realised you said that aloud. Not loud enough for them to hear you but enough for the Doctor.

"Make yourself fucking useful and make me some dinner. I fancy a steak and chips." They ordered as you got up and waddled over to the kitchen. A few minutes in you realised you put too much oil in the pan for the steak but the steak was already in and cooking quick. So quick that it started to smoke just a little bit. You tried blowing it away from them before they realised that you fucked up their dinner but ut was too late. They were already on their feet a marching towards you.

"I'm so sorry. I accidentally poured too much oil in. I'm so sorry. I have a spare steak, you can have my meal for tonight, I could do with skipping a meal anyways, helps me lose weight!" Past you was panicked and present you wasn't much better. Even though you were safe from them, they still made you uneasy. If you were to ever see them again, you'd freeze. They made your blood run cold. Even their voice sent unpleasant shivers down your spine.

"You better make me another steak but I still have to punish you. You fucked up, a lesson needs to be learnt." They said scarily politely. They grabbed your left arm and marched you towards the sink. They also grabbed the burning pan and pinned you so you had no escape as they poured the boiling oil onto your skin. You knew not to scream do you bit into your other arm knowing a bite out of it is better than causing more punishments for screaming.

When they were done left to watch the TV and you knew what that meant. You had to cook the spare steak and make there meal before you can get proper treatment at the hospital. Through your tears of agony, you quickly ran your burnt and bleeding arm under the cold water of the sink. You bit deeper into your other arm and tasting blood, but thay didn't stop you until the left one had cooled down. Then you got an old shirt, ripped 2 pieces of fabric off and wrapped them around both arm Injuries. You then continued their meal.

Once they had the meal they kicked you and punched you in the stomach because the chips were slightly cold and then they drove you to the hospital as they promised. When you had left you didn't realise you had been crying until a drop fell on your arm. You walked out of the storage room and sat on the sofa, turning the TV off.

The Doctor looked shocked for a moment before walking over and kneeling in front of you. The Doctor went silent for a moment. Before she could speak, you decided to speak first.

"I couldn't tell you because I couldn't think if a nice way of telling you. I didn't want to appear weak to you." You cried as your voice cracked in the middle due to the tears and the strain. The Doctor looked at you in pity and disappointment.

"This does not make you weak. Being abused does not make you weak. Because being abused is like being tortured by someone who supposed to love you and cherish you. They are meant to protect you from danger not be the danger. I would never hurt you. I know that I put you in risky situations but believe me, I would never intentionally put you in danger. You mean too much to me" The Doctor softly spoke with tears making a little river down her soft cheeks and onto your black carpet below.

"Before I met them, I was like you or Yaz. I was so happy at everything. Very little could bring me down. But I met them and started dating them and suddenly, my world of sunshine faded to grey. There was no light. I wanted to die Doctor. When you found me at that spider hotel, I wanted to be free from them as I couldn't do it. I can't because they'd kill me. I don't want to be alive whilst I'm with them. I have so many scars from either them or me trying to end my own life and that the scariest thing. Death wants us to be terrified but wanting to die is so much more terrifying Doctor, I know that." You cried as you emptied all you could to her. The Doctor was silent for a moment, taking in everything you said. Waves of emotion flashed through her, anger, sadness, pity and something you couldn't quite place.

"You said wanted. That's past tense. You said wanted to die. What changed? What made you want to live?"

"You did. You saved me from the spiders. You gave me a temporary out of the relationship for a while. You made me smile for the first time in 3 years! You made me laugh. The world of grey is now full of sunshine and rainbows Doctor. You also saved me today. When I jumped across that canyon, I jumped to end my life. I made a mistake that nearly ended a planet! If I wasn't so fat and clumsy maybe i-"

"Don't you dare say that! You are not fat (n/n). Yes you have more plush to your body but you are not fat. I hate that word. Its such a nasty word. You are gorgeous, amazing and so brilliant. You can't see what I see and I really wished you could for just one moment. You are worthy of being loved and cared for. You are precious, rare, one of a kind. I've never met anyone like you. There's always some skinny, fake bodied and caked up women but there's no one with as much natural beauty as you! Let's get back to the TARDIS and we'll talk more when looking at the stars because I can see that being here isn't doing you any favours" The Doctor spoke with such passion that you started to believe that her words held more than those of a supporting friend would.

Once the TARDIS was parked in the Milky Way you settled by the door once again and found yourself accompanied by the sweet alien. You both sat there for a moment just content with wrapping your heads around what's just happened. You looked over to the blonde and noticed how the stars made her glow in such an ethereal way that you felt almost compelled to worship her. Maybe you should after everything she's done for you. Her eyes sparkled with si many emotions from the past senario.

"Are you still with them?"

"Why do you think I never left this place? I mean even if could, I wouldn't want to but it's mainly because if I go back home, I'll come back with more injuries. I feel safer with you. You are my sunshine and rainbows and they are my storm clouds. Whilst I'm here, I'm alive and mostly unbroken. Whilst I'm there, I'm as alive as a puppet and severely broken. I can't leave, not on my own anyway."

The Doctor looked at you in thought. "The starlight compliments you. You look so pretty and almost angelic. I just wish they never hurt my angel. My innocent angel had broken wings and I'm going to fix what the Devil broke, I promise. Just hold on, I'm going to take us somewhere."

You held the nearest crystal as the TARDIS transported you somewhere but it seemed like the sentient machine was determined to take you there as quick as she could. As you opened the doors you noticed a familiar smell of weed mixed with alcohol. You heard the familiar tune of Love Island and knew exactly where you were. You were home. The Doctor saw your hesitation and whispered softly, "I want you to pack everything you want. I've written a note for them to find. I'm going to put it on the bed. If they notice you scream for me and I'll be there. They will not hurt you much, hopefully not at all. I just need to do something in the TARDIS before I help you." She turned and left into the TARDIS and disappeared down a corridor.

The atmosphere sent chills down your spine and you were frozen. The TARDIS seemed to notice and words of encouragement were sent into your head which helped you move towards your bedroom. You quickly buy quietly opend your suitcase and started to fill it with clothing and hygiene products. As you entered the bathroom a bottle of their shampoo fell into the tub giving you away. You knew you only had so long before they came in and hurt you so you closed the door and barricaded it with whatever you could.

As you pushed the last cabinet to the pile they roared through the wooden door. "Let me in you fat dumb bitch. You've been gone for 3 weeks and you've got some balls coming back! You're lucky I haven't burned all your shit! Where have you been?"

Your heart ran at an extremely fast pace nd you knew only one person could help you now. And so you screamed her name so loud it hurt your throat bit that didn't stop you. You screamed until you heard talking. You couldn't understand what was said but suddenly a thud was heard and then silence.

"Hey Starlight! It's only me. I've taken care of them. They're not dead but in a venishion aikido. They can't move, they're paralysed. You can come out and finish packing"

You moved everything out of the door and opened it to a view you expected. The Doctor with 2 fingers to their pulse point on their neck. The Doctor smiled at when they saw you. You finished packing and zipped the bag up. Then Yaz walked in with her police uniform on and arrested them for domestic violence and many other things. Now you understood why The Doctor left, it was to get Yaz as a back up option to completely take them out of your life.

The Doctor helped open doors for you as you got your room and you set the suitcase to one side to empty another day. You both sat down on your bed. The sound was filled with nothing but 2 lifeforms breathing and the TARDIS faint buzzing. You two stayed like this, staring into each other, trying to read the others emotions. But we all know what The Doctor is like, she can't stay silent for long.

"I had to save you because as long as you were with them, you weren't ever going to be truly happy. I didn't want my big bright star to turn into a black hole, I wanted her to be a supernova. My Starlight deserves to be happy."

"You keep saying my Doctor. And you asked if I was still with them and then when I basically said yes, you quickly, as in a rush, sent us home so I could leave them. You keep saying all these things about me. You held my hand from the canyon to the drill. You are always the first to check on me and you always make sure I'm OK first even if I'm the farthest person from you! Doctor, be honest, I don't want any more bullshit. Doctor why?" You spoke softly but with determination. The Doctor blushed and shifted her gaze to the stars and quietly gulped. She knew this day would come. The day her secret was revealed. And she dreaded her answer and she dreaded your reaction. And whilst she figured out what to say, you already knew the answer.

You gently grabbed her chin and made her look at you. Once her gaze caught yours, you smiled and placed your lips to her soft ones. Quickly she caught up and kissed you back with all the love and passion she could muster. She wanted to relay that she did love you and that she would do exactly as she said earlier, she would cherish you.

As for you, you smiled. You finally had an out that didn't end in death but instead ended with the same love that you yearned for, for years.

[legionofpotatoes]

I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

[mashup-writing]

When all is said and done; Hwasa (Mamamoo)

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Summary: Hyejin had broken your rule "No moving" and since she was acting particularly bratty that day, you decided to dish out a punishment that would be satisfying for you yet nothing but painful for her.

Requested? ☑

"You love it how I move you, you love it how I touch you."

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Thirty one days, you told her that day. The day she had learned not to bite off more than she can chew.

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Hyejin acted over-confident when you gave her one task, raising her eyebrow at you as if she was daring you to do your worst. You swore to yourself you'd make her regret underestimating you, and you succeeded. You didn't bother tying her up and just promised her that if she lifts any part of herself off the bed she wouldn't be cumming for a month. Halfway through you having your fun and already you had rendered the alpha into a begging and panting mess. Hovering over Hyejin, you bit at her scent gland and pumped down on her length and she unconsciously bucked up into your hand.

You let go of her and put a hand on her stomach, you kiss her neck that's now full of marks and get off of your alpha. Chocolate orbs flutter open with unshed tears of frustration and overstimulation she grabs at your hand weakly although desperately Hyejin asks why you stopped.

You smile sweetly at her and tell her that you don't ever break your promises.

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To make matters worse? You count your days starting from zero and although it's a thing about you she already knows, the fact that don't leave her untouched in those thirty one days only served to further her torture. Unlike other doms; you don't set a time for when you'll have her all to yourself to tease her. You find pleasure in the anticipation that fills the air whenever you catch your Alpha alone, where her eyes never meet yours out of her own volition until you take her chin in your hand to guide her to meet your eyes.

Once before she had tried to hustle you into shortening her punishment time, she figured she could take advatage of your more laid back and soft dominating nature. The nature of yours to give her exactly what she asks for when she's been a good little Alpha for you. It backfired at her and she ended up with double the original length of time, that was the day she found out that underneath the soft dom act? You were a patient, strategic sadist that always finds a way to turn the cards in your favor.

Your 'Punishments' come in various forms ranging from subtle to mind numbingly dangerous. The subtle ones range from you wrapping your arms around her shoulders and pressing open mouthed kisses from her nape to her shoulder when she writes, a leg slipping in between hers with your knee pressing up against the back of her knot oh so coyly yet so painfully exciting, to you pulling her close to your body in public before letting out a split second burst of your scent smelling with unbridled want just to rile her up. It's times like the latter that she really has to work and fight to stop herself from letting the need take over which will then result in her panting and begging you to take her right then and there.

The dangerous punishments are dangerous for a reason, those punishments are composed of you seeing just how much you can make her fall into subspace and beg. The 'easiest' ones in this caterogry consists of you giving her touches, both fleeting and ligering, they're easy because she can use your touch to ground and prevent herself from slipping. The easy punishments are double edged swords as she always manages to resist your games that end with her in tears. The hardest punishments she hates and loves at the same time, it's the punishments where you use nothing but your voice to drive her into subspace. The need is frustrating and fulfilling altogether, these are the punishments that have her pumping her length all on her own, with her pace being controlled by your commands. Every time you go hard on her, you taunt her with empty promises of having mercy on her and letting her cum early, bringing your face close to hers as you tell her to look you in the eyes as you tell her how good she's being for you. Hyejin believes you every single time only to end up in tears of ruined ecstasy as your voice commands her to stop.

Everyday for thirty one days, you give her two punishments a day; a subtle punishment and a dangerous one. There's a way you keep her anxious, you made sure to let her know at the start of day zero that you're only only going to give her a harsh punishment when the sun has faded from the horizon and the sky turns dark. The hours of the night has never made the idol feel as excited as it has the past thirty one days. She hates the after-dark punishments and she loves them at the same time, because she suffers through it painfully so. But the aftercare you provide is nothing short of heaven, your hands stroking her hair as your lips rest on the shell of her ear, whispering praises phrased in a way that it makes her feel like she's the most important person in the world. Hyejin doesn't believe you when you tell her, but in your eyes she really is.

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Day 32:

You open the front door as silently as you can while praying to all your lucky stars that your Alpha stays asleep. You went all out with the punishment last night, as you needed Hyejin to stay asleep for quite some time for your plan regarding the end of her punishment time to come to fruition. You make your way to the kitchen to place the grocery bags down on the counter, boiling a oot of water as you take the items out of the said bags. Once every ingredient is laid out on the table, you waste no time in going to work. Cutting your potatoes into quarters before dropping them into the boiling pot of water, you then turn to making the sauce that's going to go with them.

With five minutes left on the potatoes, you move on to seasoning the steaks and once your pan is hot enough, you sear the fatty side of the meat placing butter on a pan you've heated. Placing butter in the pan alongside thyme, rosemary, and a few pieces of garlic. You baste the steak in the juices for a few seconds before taking it off the heat. Rinse and repeat, by the two pieces of meat are on a cutting board waiting to be sliced, the potatoes are ready. You take them out of the water and fry them in the left over steak butter.

Once the food is all plated up on a serving dish, you place the dome cover on. A timer for how long till the food goes cold starting in your head. You smile to yourself with pride before rushing over to your shared bedroom with Hyejin. You slowly slip back under the covers, wrapping an arm around her wrist before peppering her face with kisses.

"Wake up my little Alpha." She stirs, a frown forming on her face as she turns to you and slings an arm under and over your shoulder before burying her face into your neck. You let out a chuckle as she draws lung full breaths of your scent. 15 minutes. Deciding have a bit of time, you humor your mate and release pheromones into the air. The idol shifts, hold tightening as she pulls you closer to her, your bodies intertwine and she tilts her head upward, nose touching your scent gland as she turns into putty in your arms.

You run your hand up and down her back, the other playing with the hairs on her nape. Hyejin let's out a groan as she stretches her legs before hooking them with yours. "You seem reluctant to get out of bed." That gets you the attention you want. She pulls her head back to look at you incredulousy. "You seem confused about it. Do I have to remind you just exactly what it was you put me through?" You laugh, propping yourself up on one arm. "Careful now, that tone's what got you into that predicament in the first place." Teasjngly, you train your index finger from the tip of her nose down to her lip, you zone out as you absent-mindedly trace her lips. You're brought back down to Earth when Hyejin teasingly takes your finger between her teeth, waggling her eyebrows at you.

You take your finger out of her mouth. You grab a hold of her arm and swing your legs off your side of the bed. "As enticing as your offer is. We have to get up." A 'Why?' leaves the Alpha's lips in an dramatic groan, you roll your eyes fondly at her antics. Playing the suave card, you bend down to bring her hand to your lips, you place a kiss on each of her knuckles, keeping eye contact with her. "Trust me, I promise I'll make it worth your while." The idol smiles at you and gets up not a momeng later. You beam at her and you run to the door, holding it open for her before performing an exaggerated welcome bow. She laughs at your actions before taking your hand in hers.

You lead her to the kitchen before letting go of her hand. She turns the lights on as you pull a chair out for her, she walks over to you before sitting down at the chair you offer, her eyes trained on the covered plate the whole time. You shake your head in amusement before lifting the covers on both of your plates. Her mouth falls open at the food presented before her eyes and she looks at you before turning her gaze back to the food. She points an accusatory finger at you. "So that's why you smelled so enticing!" Your mouth drops open in offense, she laughs at your expression before waving her statement off as a joke.

"What brought this on?" You smile before taking her hands in yours, bringing both to your lips and placing a kiss to both hands simultaneously, her gaze softens at the way you keep her hands in yours. "You were so good for me the past month, so patient and so obedient. So I intend to repay you in acts of service for the honor you bring me by trusting me to be your dom." Hyejin puffs her chest out in pride and you shake your head. This alpha will be the death of you.

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A/N: My inbox was filled with smut back to back, to the person who requested this? Thank you so much for being patient, writing smut is difficult- Oh my god.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 9: Hesitancy

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Changing the chapter naming scheme; my brain can't handle two-word summaries anymore. This one is a lil short but very soft and I promise relationship progress is made. As always, I hope you love it. <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary:  “Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

Words: 1962

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

There was no way in hell you could go into work today.

You didn’t actually have a choice, which is why you’d driven there. But you simply couldn’t command your feet to walk you into that office, towards the teams’ inquisitive stares and deductive skills that were closer to mind-reading than you were entirely comfortable with. You’d adjusted and re-adjusted your lipgloss several times over in the mirror, brushed through your hair, and even though you knew there was no way the team could know what happened 20 minutes ago in the park, you felt like you might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said “Aaron Hotchner and I Just Kissed (On the Lips).”

So you were holed up in the parking garage of the FBI in your piece of shit 2007 Toyota Camry. Stalling.

You sighed when you felt your phone buzz, knowing what the notification was. You were only seven minutes late, but seven minutes was eight too many in Hotch’s book. You checked the message.

Hotch: Please come inside.

So he knew you were hiding out, then. You sighed and slammed the car door, trudging up the stairwell and into the building.

Exiting the elevator to your floor, you paused outside of the frosted glass doors leading to the BAU and tried to still your breathing. Despite Hotch’s apparent instant regret and quick departure occupying the forefront of your mind, you still couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that kiss had been. The part of you that wasn’t filled with panic about his reaction was squealing like a little kid at the confirmation that holy shit, he liked you too. You took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of professionalism and composure you could muster, and walked in.

You made it less than halfway to your desk.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa; don’t just walk in here like I’m gonna let that slide.” Morgan swung his legs off his desk and stood up in front of you. “Every day you get in at least ten minutes early and now you’re walking in late looking like you got something to hide. Spill it.”

Your open-mouthed gaping by way of response was blissfully interrupted by Hotch calling your name from the balcony overlooking the bullpen.

“Garcia needs your help finishing up reports. Meet her in her office.”

You shrugged to Morgan. “Duty calls. Sorry!”

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy!” he called after you as you scampered towards the safety of Garcia’s tech lair.

You knocked on her door, and she greeted you with her standard excess of enthusiasm.

“Come in! I’m just going through my keylogs for the past few cases and filling out reports of every database I had to access less-than-legally.” She shot you an evil grin. “Which is a lot. You can help me by typing up the information into the actual reports on your computer.”

Just happy to be away from the teams’ prying eyes, especially a certain someone’s, you nodded. “Let’s do it.”

***

Not half an hour had passed when Garcia swiveled towards you in her chair, clutching her pink feathered pen with a knowing glint in her eyes. “So. Tell me.”

“What?” you asked, trying to hide your shock with feigned innocence.

“Oh, honey, come on. I may not be a profiler, but I’ve picked up a couple things throughout the years. And I can tell something’s up.”

“God damn it,” you groaned and laid back in your chair. “I thought this was a no-profiling zone.”

She smiled even wider, if that was possible. “It is. But for you, my dear, I have made an exception.”

“Did Morgan put you up to this?”

“He may have possibly texted me telling me that you were late this morning.”

You rolled your eyes.

“But you’re never late! Even I know that! So -” she scooted closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially, “- spill.”

Sighing, you weighed your options. The last thing you wanted to do was create drama and jeopardize your position, much less Hotch’s reputation, but you were itching to tell someone - if only to get their opinion on the matter. And it wasn’t as if you had anyone else to talk to…

“Fine!”

Garcia rapidly motioned her hands to signify you to continue.

“But you can’t tell anybody, okay? I’m serious, Penelope.”

“Not even-”

“Especially not Morgan.”

She pouted but reluctantly agreed, and you took a deep breath and told her everything.

How you’d developed an innocent crush at first, how it had spiraled out of control, how you’d visited his apartment and he’d told you about his past, and finally, how he’d kissed you in the park just that morning. You stopped, awaiting her reaction, but she was uncharacteristically silent.

“...Garcia?”

She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, are we talking about Aaron Hotchner, like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, like boss man Aaron Hotchner? Mr. Grumpy? Never smiles, always wears a suit, carries the weight of the world on his sculpted shoulders?”

You glared, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, “It’s just -” her voice softened, “- in the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him act like that. Bring someone coffee, breakfast, open up to them. The whole bit.”

Your heart fluttered more than you’d like to admit at that.

“Listen,” she continued, “I don’t have to tell you that life has not been kind to that man. And I’m not gonna give you the stupid speech about dating an older man or dating your boss, because I don’t give a shit. But I will tell you - he’s been through enough. So if this isn’t what you want, back out now.”

Her tone was kind, but the seriousness of her message was evident. You nodded in understanding.

“I get it, but I don’t think he’s the one that’s gonna end up getting hurt here.”

“Well, hopefully nobody will get hurt and you’ll both ride off into the sunset together. But you gotta talk to him first.” She ignored your pained groan. “I’m serious! Nothing good is going to come out of you guys dancing around this. People act really stupid when they’re pretending they’re not in love with each other.”

Cocking your eyebrow, you shot back, “Kinda like you and Morgan?”

She flushed scarlet and waggled her ostentatious pen in your direction. “Touché.”

***

The thought of being emotionally vulnerable to Hotch made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit, but the more you mulled over it, the more you realized Garcia was right. Hotch knew how you felt - your fervent response to the kiss had made that abundantly clear - so what did you have to lose, really?

(Besides your career and the respect of your boss, but you tried not to consider that possibility).

He’d kissed you, you reminded yourself as you tried to focus on reports.

He cares about you, you recited like a mantra as you waited for the workday to end.

He’s twice your age and a widower with a dead kid and your Unit Chief, you panicked in the bathroom as you avoided the knowing eyes of the rest of the team.

Still, 6 pm limped in eventually and you bid everyone a good night from your desk as they filtered out. Hotch, unsurprisingly, was not among them. You planned to wait until you two were alone in the office so you could approach him undisturbed.

What you didn’t expect was just how late he worked - it was nearly 9 by the time he locked up his office, briefcase in hand, and turned to see you still sitting at your desk.

“Oh,” he said. You tried to decipher the tone of the syllable - surprised? Pleased? Indifferent? But came up short.

“I thought we could talk,” you offer cautiously.

“About wha-” he began, then seemed to think better of pretending he didn’t know and sighed. “You’re right. We should.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “I wanted to apologize for my actions this morning. I took advantage of a situation where you felt comfortable spending time with me outside of the office, and I should have never let it get that far. If you want to speak to Strauss about transferring units, I completely understand.”

You gaped at him. Was it truly possible for a man this astute, this in-tune with human behavior, to be this stupid?  

“Is that what you think this is?” you asked, practically launching yourself out of your seat from the sheer force of your bewilderment. “You think you took advantage of me? That I just went along with it because you’re my boss or something?”

The barely concealed shame in his eyes answered not only that question, but also the one you’d asked yourself beforehand - no, Hotch wasn’t stupid. He was broken. He was filled with so much self-hatred that the only explanation he could concoct as to why you were spending so much time with him was the one where you were trying to avoid offending your creepy, older boss. The realization filled you with such heartbreak that you nearly choked on your next words.

“Aaron,” you started, and it was strange how well a name you’d never before dared to say fit in your mouth, “I’ve -”

Don’t say loved.

“- liked you since that case in San Diego. I don’t know how you haven’t figured that out, considering the fact that I wake up an hour early every morning - I hate mornings, by the way - to get coffee with you. But I like you. And I know for a fact you feel the same way, so don’t try to pretend like you did after the bar.”

The number of times Hotch had been rendered speechless in his lifetime could be counted on one hand, and this made the list. You waited for him to respond, and he did, finally, in the most muted voice you’d ever heard him use.

“It isn’t right.”

“Please,” you implored, taking a step closer to him. “Don’t do that. You’re not going to talk me out of this, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to talk yourself out of it too.”

“I’m your Unit Chief,” he said, his voice regaining the power that usually accompanied that statement, “and I’m old enough to be your father.”

“And I’m an adult fully capable of making her own decisions,” you responded.

“The practicalities; they’d be a mess. Informing the Bureau, the team…”

“Would I have to quit my internship?” you asked, your only genuine hesitancy surrounding the situation.

“Well, no,” he shook his head slowly, “but we'd be subject to a much higher level of scrutiny.”

“I’m prepared to be scrutinized.”

“Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

He didn’t say anything, but you could tell what he was thinking. A man like him, someone who carried more than a few lifetimes of trauma and guilt, wasn’t someone to get involved with on a whim - for both of your sakes. This was more so the concern, you suspected, than anything he’d already mentioned.

“I know what I’m getting into, Hotch. I’m not expecting this to be easy.”

“Well, I -” he shifted uncomfortably, more visibly nervous than you’d ever seen him. “Can I least give you time to think about it?”

“Doubt I’ll be able to think about anything else,” you teased, and, with a sudden surge of courage, you stepped forward on your tiptoes to plant a feather-light kiss on his cheek.

The flush that spread up his neck was, decidedly, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Taglist: @stop-drop-and-drumroll @criminalmindzjunkie @xoprincessmel @cevanswhre @addie5264 (Message me if you want to be added!)

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Buzz, Buzz—Buzz, Buzz {One-Shot}***

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Tease, NSFW, SMUT

Words: 4.5k

Note: I love vibrating panties by the way. Great idea! This was too much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!!!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~

 “I can’t believe you cooked all of this,” Scott said as he gaped at all the food scattered around your townhouse.

You had gotten a little carried away in the kitchen with all the cooking. You’d made fried coconut shrimp, some potato salad, mac and cheese, and some honey BBQ smothered ribs. That all went with various little finger foods like chili cheese nachos topped with all the fixings, little kabobs, and a fruit salad. Looking at all the food you may have gone overboard considering there was probably only going to be maybe ten people in attendance today to watch the fight.

“I know, I think I went a tab bit overboard.”

 “No, it’s great. It is fight night after all,” Scott said.

 You finished putting out the rest of the décor for the night and making sure your townhouse was company ready.

 “You are quite the little entertainer.”

 Scott helped you straighten the rest of the townhouse which you had neglected in your cooking spree. While you tackled upstairs, Scott tackled downstairs. You had to make sure the bathroom and the bedroom and even the guest bedroom was good. The one thing you hated was when you went to someone’s house and their whole house was not on point. It could have been just something small, but it got to you.

 “Shit, Scott I forgot the cake.”

 “I knew you would. How could you not? I didn’t think you’d be doing all of this.”

 “If I go to get it I won’t have enough time to get ready before everyone gets here.”

 “It’s okay, I’ll get it. Give me the receipt and I’ll go. You get ready,” Scott offered.

 “Thank you, Scott.” You rummaged through your bag until you found the receipt for Scott so he could pick up the cake for fight night. Fight night was never complete with something sweet to end the night.

 Once he was gone you finished tidying up and setting fresh candles out you hopped in the shower. Ten minutes later you were trying to find the right outfit but couldn’t decide what to wear. It was a fight, so you didn’t want to get too crazy, but you also didn’t want to look frumpy. You tried on dresses with wedges and heels, jeans and tanks, jumpsuits, skirts but you could not decide.

 Halfway through your mind jumped to Scott’s brother, Chris. You’d been friends with Scott for about nine months before he introduced you to his brother superstar Chris brown at a party. It was of course an automatic attraction for you. who the hell wouldn’t think Chris Evans was hot? Sometimes when you hung out with Scott he was around, and it became normal after a few months. Every once in a while you’d hang out alone mainly when you were in a group. You’d break off alone and talk or even do things together. You’d come to realize he was a cool guy, really funny and down to earth. You’d gotten comfortable around each other and you couldn’t deny that you were probably developing a crush.

 After nearly fifteen minutes of debate, you decided on an off the shoulder shirt and a pair of jeans that you would pair with some wedges. You thought it was a good combo. When you reached into your drawer for a pair of panties you didn’t think anything about picking the black thong you’d gotten as a naughty birthday gift from your friends. You’d lost the remote months ago so that rendered the vibrating contraption useless. While you were rushing around to make sure you were ready in time you didn’t realize the doorbell rang until you heard pounding at the door. When you opened it, Chris was standing there holding the cake Scott was sent out to get.

 “Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t hear the door.”

 “It’s okay. I come bearing sweets.” You smiled and held open the door so he could come in.

 “You can put it in the kitchen on the counter. Thanks.” You followed behind him looking over his body. His white polo looked so good on him. It fit him just right and accentuated his broad his shoulders were and how trim his waist was. He looked so good. Catching yourself before he caught you checking him out you looked away and tried to compose yourself.

 “What happened to Scott?”

 “He had a few things to do before he made it over here, so he asked me to bring this over.”

 “Thank you.”

 “I feel like I should thank you, it smells amazing in here. I can’t wait to get my hands on all this food,” Chris said as he rubbed his hands together.

 “You’re so silly.” A few moments passed with the two of you smiling at each other before you snapped out of it.

 “Okay, I’m gonna finish setting up, everyone should be here any minute.”

 “Okay, need help?”

 “No, I got it. You chill and get the channel right. I’ll be back.” As you walked past him you thought you heard him whisper “god damn”. Deciding it was your ears playing tricks on you, you continued rushing around.

 While you were rushing around doing God knows what he found the channel the fight was on and got it ready. When he fixed himself a plate and sat on the couch it was then he saw a small black device peeking out from underneath the wall mounted bookcase. He dug it out but before he could investigate further the doorbell rang. He slipped the device in his pocket and answered the door to find a group of smiling faces.

 “Heyyyy!” He smiled and ushered them inside as they all spoke at once. Some were commenting on how good it smelled inside, some on the coming fight, and some just chattering. Before long everyone had settled and situated around the living room.

 “How was this recent trip, Chris?”

 He’d just got back into town from filming a coming show that he was excited about. “It was good. It was mainly last minute reshoots and whatnot. It should be premiering soon.”

 “What’s it called?”

 “Defending Jacob.”

 When you walked out everyone approached you and pulled you in for hugs. You spent the next few moments hugging everyone and having small talk. He couldn’t help but watch you. When he first met you he thought you were beautiful, yeah but he didn’t dwell on it. As the weeks and months passed and he got to know you better thanks to Scott he really liked you and the vibe you gave off. The more he talked to you away from your group of friends, the more he liked.  

After a few months he knew he was in real danger of finding himself in a situation that had the potential to be messy. Normally he wouldn’t have cared but he’d just gotten to a point in his life where he was through making bad decisions that made him into the asshole. If he made a move on you he would be the man he was. So he kept his distance and did everything in his power to keep himself in check.

 His eyes roamed your body and he fully took notice of your outfit. The jeans fit you too well and the top accentuated your soft shoulders and ample cleavage. Just like that he knew it was going to be a long night.

 When everyone got their food and seats the fight started, by that time he’d checked out your ass more than four times and found himself staring at your breasts more times than he could count. He made it a goal to focus on the fight and nothing else. He told himself it didn’t matter that you were beside him and smelled like every flower in the book or the fact that your thigh brushed his every so often. A little after the halfway mark you returned with a beer for him.

 “Thanks.” Your smile was polite and sweet. He dug his hand in his pocket and remembered the small device there. He didn’t know what it was but after fiddling with it he decided it was probably a stress thing. It took him a few minutes to realize the soft rubber spots were buttons. He pressed one down. Almost at the same time, you dropped back onto the couch with an “oh”.

 When he looked at you the look on your face said confusion and shock.

 “Are you okay?” Your head snapped to him and you instantly nodded. The way you did it was weird, but he didn’t think anything of it. He continued to fiddle with the device in his pocket and pressed another button. You whimpered beside him and crossed your legs. When his eyes met you again you gave him a reassuring smile before looking back to the TV and the fight.

 “Wow, that was a great cross,” you stuttered. He tried not to notice on your squirming beside him, crossing and uncrossing your legs but he noticed. You took your beer bottle and raised it to your lips and guzzled it until it was empty. He noticed you squeezing it so tightly the skin around your knuckles was taunt. As he tried to figure out what was going on with you he pressed another button. You released a sigh and sat up with a straight back then placed your empty beer bottle on the table before you with a shaky hand.

 He watched you as you looked around the room as if you were looking for something. He was so busy watching you trying to figure out what was going on that he didn’t think anything of pressing more buttons on the device in no particular order.

 “Oh Jesus Christ. No, no, no.”

 “You okay Y/N?” You pinched your lips and nodded to Scott.

 “Yep, all good. Cake. Does anyone want--cake?” You blew out a breath through your mouth. He watched your chest heave as if you were having trouble breathing. He pressed another button and your eyes closed before you stood. He noticed the shake in your legs when you did though and he was even more inquisitive.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

When you got to the kitchen you were free to panic. The remote wasn’t lost at all. It was somewhere. Either it was in one of the couch seats and someone was unaware they were controlling it and your pleasure. You’d forgotten how these things felt after trying them out that one time. You remembered very well now. Taking a few moments you cut slices of the cake and placed them on plates. After you’d cut the slices Chris’ voice took you by surprise.

 “You okay?”

 “Yeah I’m good. Are you good?” he looked at you as if he were suspicious of something. You’d probably acted weird as shit before.

 “I’m good. Need help?”

 “Uh yeah, thanks.” You and Chris each took a few plates and walked back out to hand them out to each guest. Once your hands were free you leisurely walked around the living room checking behind free cushions and spaces to see if you could find the root of your embarrassing situation.

 “What’re you looking for?”

 “Oh nothing important. I just thought I lost a piece of jewelry earlier. Don’t worry about it,” you lied. You tried to act as normal as possible but it was hard. You didn’t know when the next vibrating surge would come and you could also feel Chris’ eyes on you. the two things were making you more awkward and nervous than usual.

 Soon everyone was on their feet cheering on their chosen fighter. The controlled chaos gave you the opportunity to look in each of the couches but you’d come up empty handed. The only other possibility was that someone had it and was controlling it without knowing just what it was. Now you looked around to each of your friends assessing them trying to figure out who the culprit was. Your eyes met Chris’ from across the room and he stole your breath. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments and you wondered if it was him but his hands were free. Everyone cheered snapping you out od the moment to see the fight was over.

 The vibration began again this time it wasn’t on the low setting, it was a lot stronger.

 “Fuck!” You crossed your legs, pinched your lips and tried to hold back any sounds you were tempted to make. The vibration continued then intensified and you could feel the beginning stirs of the orgasm that wanted freedom.

 You didn’t think you could stop it so you walked to your balcony as smoothly as possible. You turned your back to the French doors and bit your bottom lip trying to stop the moan. It definitely wasn’t working so you grabbed the railing before you and bent over and let the orgasm free with a grunt. Your body was on fire and you already knew it wanted more. The vibration stopped unexpectedly giving you a much needed break. The wetness between your thighs was now distracting. 

After taking a little time to get yourself under control you walked back inside the living room and to the couch and sat beside Chris with a sigh.

 “You’ve been acting weird all night. Are you sure you’re okay?”

 “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a hot night.” It wasn’t a lie, you were burning up at this point.

 “Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound like he believed you, shit you didn’t believe yourself. Your eye caught the shine of something black Chris was holding, and all the blood drained from you as horror filled you. He was holding the remote you thought you’d lost. It dawned on you at once that he’d had it this entire time and he’d been playing with the buttons inadvertently bringing you to a pretty intense orgasm.

 “Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you tried to act normal.

 Nothing about this was normal. You had to figure out a way to nonchalantly get it back without tipping him off to what it really was. Before you could come up with something the vibrations began again against your already over sensitive clit sending your back crashing back into the couch. The setting was set low, but it was still more than enough to start the stirs of yet another release. Fighting through it you sat up tried not to squirm. When the setting increased you failed miserably. Your hand shot out to grab and squeeze Chris’ thigh. When you looked at him the second your eyes met you knew he knew. Slowly he looked to the black device in his hand and back to you and then his eyebrow arched up.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

No fucking way, he thought. There was no way this was real life. He couldn’t believe events would turn like this. Quickly you yanked your hand back and apologized before looking the opposite direction. He almost laughed out loud. This was too perfect. What he thought was just a useless stress reliever turned out to be a lot more valuable. It was the remote to what he’d now pieced together as your panties. 

The thought of you wearing some sexy contraption that he had control over instantly made him hard. He could have turned it off but he chose not to as he realized your antics on the balcony was probably you being overcome with pleasure. It was then he realized he’d made you come. The old him wanted to resurface so badly so he kept the setting where it was and watched you squirm. God, it was sexy as hell doing this knowing everyone around you was clueless. He watched closely he wanted to see you come this time knowing that he knew just what he was doing. You didn’t utter one word or give one thing away. The only thing he noticed was your body heaving clearly exerted.

 With a smile, he turned off the device and tucked it back into his pocket. He’d give you a break. The rest of the night he tried to forget the power he had, forget the tightness in his pants and ignore how badly he wanted you. After the fight finished everyone stayed for a few hours longer just laughing, dancing and having a good time. You stayed away from him the entire time. If he was close to you, you found a reason to go to the opposite side of the room. It amused him; he’d gotten under your skin. It had him thinking back to every glance you’d shared over the months. Did they mean something more?

 Slowly everyone made their exit leaving Scott his partner and him there to help you clean up. You tried to shoo them out but they each insisted on helping to show appreciation for the hospitality you’d shown. He could tell you hated every minute of it and that made him even more amused. Your cool composure was crumbling and he could see the angst in you bubbling to the surface to reveal just how much he’d affected you.

 By the time you showed them to the door, he still had your remote and he knew you knew it.

“Y/N, this was so much fun. Thank you for hosting it,” Scott said giving you one last hug.

 “No problem, it was fun.”

 “Yeah I had a lot of fun,” he added. You didn’t look at him, but you pinched your lips.

 “All right y’all get home safe.” He walked out the door and down the hall with Scott and his partner with a small satisfied smile on his face.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five minutes from when you closed the door the doorbell rang. When you opened the door there Chris stood holding the remote between his thumb and pointer fingers. Neither of you spoke, you just stared at each other. Who needed words with everything that had transpired between you? here was a man you’d never slept with but had made you come two times.

 As you reached for the remote Chris yanked his hand back. You continued trying to grab the remote but every move you made he evaded. Soon he was stepping inside.

 “Chris, give it to me.”

 “Why do you want it?”

 “It’s mine.”

 “It’s been mine tonight.” You caught his double meaning and you rushed him in a mad dash attempt to grab the remote from him. Chris evaded you and the two of you danced around the living room, you trying to get what belonged to you and him determined to hold on to it. Chris stumbled backward and fell on the floor and took you with him. The remote fell from his hand to a few feet away. When you realized it you were laying on top of him. Your eyes locked and you realized just how your body was angled on him. You were sitting right over his crotch and you definitely took notice of the thick ridged muscle pressing into you.

 You caught the glint of the remote off to the side a few feet away and slowly looked to him. He must have realized what you saw and the two of you scurried to it. Thanks to his long arms he was the one to grab it. As soon as he did you felt the most intense vibrations, he’d turned it to the highest setting.

 “Fuck!” You shouted out and writhed on him. You bucked your hips against him and picked up the speed dry humping him and rushing to find a release. Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh—my—god!” You screeched as your body convulsed.

 It felt like you were having the wildest seizure, a seizure that took any control you had of your body. All you wanted was to come and thanks to the vibrations you got your wish. You threw yourself across his chest trying to catch your breath, but it was impossible. Whimpering you writhed some more from the unbearable pleasure. It was too much. Slowly the settings decreased until the vibrations stopped.

 You didn’t know how long you laid there on him but when you lifted your head it felt heavy as if it weighed a ton. Your hands still shook as you pressed them to his chest. When your eyes met the fire, you saw there was something that you were not prepared for. 

“Oh god.” Chris’ eyes dropped to your lips and in seconds your lips crashed together. This kiss was the most intense one you’d ever had. Chris’ tongue delved into your mouth and entangled with yours just as his hand gripped your ass pulling you closer to him and holding you against his hard cock. Both of you moaned together already knowing what you were going to do. There was no way you could stop now. He’d teased you all night and now you wanted something more.

 Chris’ hands came around to the button of your jeans and quickly undid them before he slipped his hands inside the backs to cup your bare ass. You bucked your hips against him brushing your core on his swollen need. The entire time neither of you broke the kiss, instead, it intensified and became even more passionate. Chris’ hands lifted the hem of your shirt and yours were there to pull it off completely. As soon as it was off Chris’ hands were there to unhook your strapless bra to free your breasts. It was only then his lips pulled from yours to latch onto a hardened nipple.

 He greedily went between both nipples sucking, licking and biting them bringing you even more pleasure. You pulled his shirt off of him and clawed his back enjoying the smoothness of his skin. He pulled you down again on his need and the urgency you felt increased. You stood above him and began pulling off your jeans. As you did he busied himself with his own pants. Once you’d kicked them off you moved to pull down the panties, but he stopped you by pulling you to him. Your feet were beside his face just as he pulled you down onto his face connecting his lips with your soaking slit.

 “Oh shit!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head again, he was not going slow and you were glad for it. Now was not the time. Chris licked and sucked your clit as he slurped you’re your opening sucking all your juices from you. It didn’t take you long to begin bucking against his lips and using them to find your next orgasm. Chris moaned the faster your rode his face and played with your nipples. When you looked down to him the intimacy of the moment pushed you over the edge so much that you lost yourself and smeared your pussy across his mouth and nose.

 Before he made you come again you slinked down his body to his bulging cock and pulled it free. Your first reaction was to lick your lips as the feast before you. wasting not even a second you took him into your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, but you were not going to back down. Slurping against his skin you bobbed your head up and down his shaft a few times before bringing your hands to increase his pleasure.

 “Fuck yeah!” taking a quick glance at him you found his head angled back with his eyes closed and mouth ajar. The lower you dipped the wider his mouth became until he scrunched his face and bit his bottom lip and watched everything you did.

 “Yes, suck this cock. Fuck those lips!” The quicker you bobbed the more your slurped until you didn’t care how sloppy things were getting. Sloppy head was the best head after all.

 Chris grunted loudly before pulling your head off of him.

 “I don’t have anything,” he said.

 “I do.” You reached into the drawer of the coffee table beside you and pulled out a condom. Once you opened it you slid it onto his rock solid cock. Every time you touched him he hissed and sucked in a breath. Once he was fully sheathed he pulled you to him and kissed you again. feeling the tip of him at your opening you slowly slid onto him. Both of you groaned and savored the sensations flowing through you. before you sank down fully Chris pulled your shoulders down fully sinking into your heated core.

 “Holy shit!”

 From the beginning, Chris pumped up into you with purpose, it was the same purpose he’d had all night—to make you come. You moaned and panted trying to catch your breath and take all he gave. He filled you so perfectly and to absolute capacity.

 “Mmm, Y/N, I always knew you’d take this dick so well.”

 Chris flipped you onto your back and held your thighs open and plowed into you never slowing his thrusts. Every connection had you shouting out unable to hold back how much pleasure he was giving you.

 “Your tight little pussy loves this dick. Look how wet you are.”

 Chris changed his angle and slammed into you quicker them before. the new angle had you clenching round him as you felt yet another release wash over you. you gripped him tightly and fug your nails into his shoulder trying to not pass out. Chris looked as if that was the last straw for him because his thrusts became wild and deep. The only sound in the room was the sound of your wetness squelching and your combined moans. You were so wet for him it should have been embarrassing but you weren’t embarrassed at all.

 “God your gonna make me come,” Chris grunted.

 “Come on this pussy right now, tag me up!” You had no idea where that came from. As if on queue Chris pulled out, yanked the condom off and stroked his length at the same time he pressed the button on the remote giving you another intense jolt.

 “Oh fuck, yes, yes. Shit, I’m gonna come.”

 “Come with me,” Chris’ voice was strangled, and his hands moved impossibly fast. Soon he grunted and gasped as he released spurt after spurt of hot come across your pussy, pelvis, and stomach. The third made it all the way to your breast across your nipple and that was when you came again. You arched up onto your legs as if you were a bridge as you rode through the intense pleasure. Chris was the one to turn off the device as he dropped onto his knees to catch his breath. His eyes never left your newly decorated body. You saw the string of come across your nipple and you lifted your breast to your mouth to lick off the trial all the while staring at him. Chris’ jaw dropped as he watched, and as he watched his cock grew again.

 “Mmmm, tastes just like cake.” Chris looked in utter shock and disbelief before he snorted and dropped back onto the floor.

 “Oh god, you’re gonna be the death of me!”

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve

Title: Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~10K

A/N: Flashback Chapter set between Chapter 14: Superheroes and Chapter 15: Foyet. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The bar was thrumming with activity and the energy that accompanies people who've all had a long, hard day at work and would like to do nothing besides forget. The team had gotten back from a case in the evening, and with only Friday separating them and the weekend, had all decided to head out for a night of drinking.

You look around, your hands wrapped around a glass of scotch - Derek, Penelope, and Emily were dancing in the makeshift dancing area, JJ was playing darts with some guys, Spencer was cheating people out of their money at a game of pool, and Rossi had long ago excused himself to go sit by some woman at the bar. You'd be dancing too, but the unsub had gotten the jump on you during the takedown and you'd been nursing a sprained ankle ever since. Hotch had stayed with you - whether it was simply to keep you company or because none of the other activities appealed to him, you're unsure. Likely the former - he was pretty good at darts too.

He's sitting across from you in the booth, a glass of scotch in his hand as well. He doesn't make a face when he drinks it, which you have to admire - it was such a man thing. You only drank liquor to get drunk and had been surprised with the drink by Rossi, who had insisted that you needed to drink something stronger than a glass of wine after the day you'd had. You take another hesitant sip from your glass, trying hard not to give away how little you like it. He could've ordered you a mixed drink - something sweet so you didn't taste just pure alcohol.

"What've you got going on this weekend?" you ask Hotch. The case had been miserable all around and you wanted to talk about anything but that.

He looks up at you, the faint hint of a smile on his face. "Haley and I worked it out so that I can have Jack the entire weekend. I'll have to think of something to keep him occupied."

You knew that Hotch would be content to do nothing as long as it was with Jack, but he liked to make the most of their time together and did his best to plan things out that Jack would like. "I saw a poster that said the Air and Space Museum has some special exhibit on this month. It looked interesting." You knew Jack would enjoy that - his latest toy was a rocketship that went everywhere with him.

"Saturday?" he asks, eyebrow quirked up in question.

"Make it 11, and you've got a deal," you tell him, with a small smile. "I am no longer entertaining plans at 9am."

He lets out a slight huff. "If you just went to bed at a normal hour it wouldn't be that hard to wake up in the morning."

This was an old argument with the two of you. Hotch insisted on always being the first in line to any ticketed event. He hated waiting - he'd start to fidget and get annoyed and keep leaving the line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long.

"Take it or leave it." You were sticking your ground. He could use the lie in too, he'd just never admit it.

"We'll pick you up," he says, bringing his glass to his mouth and taking another sip, eyes meeting yours from above the rim.

It was interesting how you and Hotch had settled into this routine of constantly doing things with Jack. You reckon he likes having another adult around when he's out with Jack - it definitely made things easier to keep a little kid entertained. You'd once mentioned to Emily that you were having dinner with him and Jack and she'd looked at you a little oddly, saying that she'd been on the team forever and had never once had dinner with her boss and his kid. You'd responded by telling her that she probably wouldn't enjoy it all too much - Emily liked kids just fine, but her and Hotch tend to get on one another's nerves a bit after a while. They were far too different even if they did work well together. Hotch would try and fail at limiting her to two glasses of wine with dinner and she'd annoy him by just putting the dishes straight into the dishwasher without caring how she did it.

"Someone sent this over for you." You turn to see the waitress place a drink at your table, and indicate towards a man in a wrinkled suit, seated at the bar, who waves at you.

You can feel your face turn into a grimace as the waitress looks at you expectantly. You avoid looking at Hotch across the way. You didn't need to see his reaction. "Would you mind telling him thanks, but, no thanks for me?" you ask her apologetically.

She nods understandingly, taking the drink back and walking towards the bar.

You turn to look at Hotch, completely exasperated. It was nice. It was a nice gesture - sending a girl a drink. Friendly. Yet, you're just a little at your wit's end lately when it comes to men. It all just feels superficial.

Hotch can read you pretty well by now, so he asks if you're alright.

You look at his concerned face. You know why - usually you don't mind this sort of thing. Hell, you pretty much encourage it with the way you act, flirting with nearly everyone simply because you can. It's like a sport to you.

"Are you asking as my boss or as my friend?" you ask him, eyes cast down towards your drink, following patterns in the wood of the table.

"Friend," he says, adjusting to lean in a bit more towards you.

Sighing, you shift a bit, dropping your leg from where you'd been keeping it elevated next to him. "Lately, I just feel like I can't get guys to see me. Like every guy I meet, they either want to date me or kill me," you tell him, referring to your job. "But beyond that, it's like I don't even matter."

Hotch nods understandingly at your frustration, his face a grimace at your explanation. He's unable to deny that that is very much the case when it comes to women quite often - especially in your line of work. You're all far too aware of the horrors of dating, being called in on numerous cases on dating gone wrong. "Aren't you still seeing that guy - Kensington?" he asks with a slight uptick of his jaw.

"Well, if you can call seeing someone six times over the course of about an equal number of months, then yes I suppose so," you scoff lightly. "Twice we got called in on cases halfway, once he got interrupted by a work emergency, and then most recently I accompanied him to an event at which most of the other dates were the kind that demand a retainer in exchange for services rendered," you say, alluding to the super model types you'd kept company at Cedric's business event a couple of weeks back. You could fit into his world quite easily, but you didn't want to. You'd left that behind for a reason.

Hotch chuckles slightly at that, amused at your tone and manner in which you referred to women who were essentially either escorts or sugar babies. You didn't really fit that mold - of that he was quite certain. For one, you definitely didn't need the money.

"Don't get me wrong, I actually do like him. We get one another and our background and upbringing is similar enough. He makes me laugh. However our schedules - both of ours - are highly unconducive to dating and in his line of business he needs a girlfriend who can leave everything at the drop of a hat to stand by his side."

"So unless you leave your job or he leaves his, it won't work out," Hotch finishes your thought for you, a resigned expression on his face in commiseration.

"Exactly. Which is a shame because he's actually one of the good ones. He's rich but not pompous, educated and intelligent without being condescending about it, and actually shows genuine interest in me and my job. Believe it or not, as basic as those things might seem, they are actually difficult to find all in one man."

He hums. "I can imagine," he says, taking another sip of his drink, a slightly amused expression on his face. You rarely talked to him about your dating life so he was actually very interested in this insight. He wonders briefly if there's any significance to you having listed the fact that Kensington was wealthy before any of his other qualities. From what he knows of you, he doubts you'd truly care if your partner had money or not. More than likely it merely helped establish a commonality, nothing more. However, from what he does know of the men you've dated recently, they all appear to be quite well off nonetheless.

"Anyways, all that is to say that I'm not exactly looking to entertain complete strangers in bars at the moment. I don't trust my luck."

"Probably for the best, anyways," Hotch comments, appraising the crowd at the bar. There really didn't appear to be anyone worth talking to - especially none of your caliber, per his judgement.

"What about you? How's the post divorce dating scene?" you question, feeling a little bolder than you usually might, since the two of you are already discussing the matter. Turnabout was fair play.

He's a little surprised at your forwardness. You tend to do your best to not meddle in his personal business, despite the amount of time you two spend together. He believes it's your way of maintaining some modicum of professionalism to your outings. Your conversations tend to revolve around cases, your classes from college, an article in the newspaper, or the ever present game the two of you like to play of profiling complete strangers walking by. He says its to hone your skills, but really he just enjoys how invested you get - how competitive and passionate, color rising in your cheeks as you defend your assessment, annoyance tinging your tone as you disagree with him, admiration when he notes something you hadn't, and pride when he praises your observations, your cheeks flushed a prettier pink and your eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"I wouldn't know," he discloses, a slight flush in his cheeks. He hadn't dated at all since the divorce. He hadn't had the time and he hadn't really had interest in anyone. Not when you exist, so overtly present in his day to day life. He knows he's - in some capacity - using the outings with you and Jack as the closest thing he's got to dating again. Not to say that it was that - dating. However the fact that his weekends were typically filled by you and his son made it so he wasn't exactly left wanting.

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Their divorce had been a while back now - you knew for a fact that Haley was dating, having ran into her with some man when you'd offered to drop Jack off for Hotch when you all got called in on a case last minute. You hadn't mentioned it to him, but you're sure he knew as well. "You're joking. Really? No one?"

"You might recall, I got divorced because I didn't have the time for my existing relationship. A new one requires quite a bit more attention than that," he says dryly, self deprecation dripping from every word.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at him as you stir your drink with the toothpick it came with, spearing the cherry inside and popping it into your mouth.

"You should just go for it next time we're in some whatever town. Every female detective we've encountered constantly gets all moony eyed around you," you inform him matter-of-factly. They're all so obvious too, eyes always drawn to his ring finger in search of a wedding band, and upon finding it empty, hanging onto his every word. Flicking their hair and fluttering their lashes at him, keen on proving themselves to be competent by sticking their noses into the profile.

"That's hardly true," he contradicts, shaking his head, the color in his cheeks having creeped down his neck.

You chuckle at that. "Maybe you're not as good of a profiler as you think you are."

He glares at you, however the lightheartedness remains in his eyes so you know you're in the clear for your jab.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is, whenever you decide to get back on that proverbial horse, I think you won't find a shortage of options," you tell him kindly. After all, Hotch worked harder than any of you. He deserved to find happiness again.

He rolls his eyes at your statement ever so slightly. His right hand was a much less complicated and demanding lover for the time being - he was making do just fine.

"So, on to the next for you then?" he asks, attempting to divert attention back to you and your existent dating life rather than him and his non-existent one.

You shake your head, a humorless smile appearing on your face as you start to feel just slightly light headed from the alcohol. Maybe accepting random pain killers from Emily hadn't been quite the right move. "Nah," you mumble into your drink. "Cedric can stay, if only because I don't have an actual good reason to end it yet. Besides him, the other two on the back burner are quickly losing what little appeal they held to begin with. I might actually take a break."

Hotch smiles as if he doesn't quite believe you're capable of actually taking a break. Your reputation for never being without a date far preceded you.

Truth be told, at first it was simply easier to always be dating someone in the aftermath of the John wreckage. If you could constantly keep yourself occupied and distracted in that area, while you actually gave turning straight a fair shot, then maybe you'd make it through instead of going crawling back to his bed. Maybe you'd stop seeing his broken face when you told him you couldn't be with him. Maybe the memory of leaving him standing alone in front of that tattoo parlor in the Village wouldn't cause your heart to ache and rebel against your own actions. Maybe. Just maybe.

Now, the pain of Julian's death and the subsequent fallout with your family was merely hurtful when you chose to think of it or were reminded of it inadvertently It was no longer ever present. That seemed like progress. Like somehow despite everything - the pain and torture you'd inflicted upon both you and John had somehow been worth it if it meant you could go to sleep without thinking of Julian. Wake up without your father's face looming ever present in your mind.

You and Hotch look up when you see the rest of the team approaching the table one by one as the night drew to a close. It was last call and about time to head home so you could all have a hope of making an appearance at the office the next day.

"You want a ride home?" Hotch asks you, noticing your slight struggle to get out of the booth.

"It's totally out of your way," you protest, yanking your coat on and fishing for your keys in your pocket.

"I insist, come on. You can't drive properly with that sprain right now. He walks towards you and placing his hand at your lower back, guides you out of the bar behind the rest of the team. "Your car should be fine and we can grab it in the morning."

You know he's right, so you allow yourself to lean against him ever so much more, letting him help you out to his car. Hotch helps you in and closes the door behind you, before walking around to the driver's side. You take control of the music, plugging in your phone, intent on introducing him to more modern music. The two of you made it through seven Top 50 songs on the drive to your place, Hotch complaining throughout and not finding anything redeemable in any of the songs you'd chosen.

Aaron looked over at you as he neared your house, your head moving along to the music and your fingers dancing across your thighs to the tune, a large grin plastered on your voice as you tried to convince him that this this one he surely had to enjoy. He actually didn't mind most of the music you picked out to introduce him to - you didn't just pick anything, you always did your best to pick something you thought he'd truly enjoy. However, he worried that if he started to openly like any of them, you might stop trying so hard.

He pulled into your driveway and walked around to help you out of the car, lending you a hand along the path and up the steps to your door. He stands on the lower step as you unlock the door, before you turn around to tell him goodbye. When you turn, you're almost at his height due to the different steps you two are stood upon and you're not quite sure what compels you, but you reach for him and lean in to a hug, tucking your head onto his shoulder. If he's surprised he doesn't react as such, wrapping his arms around you as well briefly.

"Thanks Hotch."

"I'll pick you up at 8:30AM tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sounds good. I'll be the one standing right here, holding the cups of coffee."

He smiles, rolling his eyes just slightly, before turning around and walking away.

*------------*

He first becomes aware of only pain. A piercing, stabbing pain that he can feel everywhere, centered around the abdominal area. He can't move, everything feels heavy. Opening his eyes is a struggle and he manages to only open his eyes a fraction, before being forced to close them tight again. It was bright. White and too bright for his sensitive eyes.

He's slowly starting to realize where he is - becoming increasingly aware of the pain and the bandages, the needle connecting an I.V. to his arm - he's in a hospital. He tries to remember what happened - he'd dropped you off, waited until you made it inside and waved him off, before leaving. He'd gotten back to his apartment. It had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Then Foyet was there. After that all he recalls is pain and Foyet's voice - over and over and over.

Do I seem impotent now?

You should've made the deal.

This will never be over.

Aaron finds it too difficult to keep his eyes open and closes them once again, slipping under.

The next time he wakes, a technician was present and the girl quickly hurried out when she noticed him move.

Once the nurses became aware that he was conscious, it had been a flurry of activity - doctors and technicians in and out to ensure he was alright and to up the pain medication. Some talk about internal bleeding and nine stab wounds to which he'd simply nodded along. He tried to ask for Dave - someone who could make sense of all of this. They told him no visitors yet, but that family had been informed.

Once Dave enters, that's when he finds out everything. Foyet had dumped him outside the hospital. After he hadn't shown up to pick you up that morning, you'd raised the alarm and Garcia had tracked him down. Nothing was missing from his apartment from what they could tell, despite the mess. The only thing left out was his address book. Dave had it with him and Aaron looks through it, going immediately to the one page that mattered. It wasn't there.

Haley Brooks.

Rossi had sent you to go get Haley since the Marshalls were getting ready for her. You'd left Jack with JJ, assuring him that you'd be right back. He'd already seen his father and you'd watched from a distance as Hotch had adjusted to sit up, insistent on not letting his son see him as anything but alright, even in the context of a hospital bed. Haley had been with them and you watched as her eyes flitted from Hotch to Jack - fear for her son and what he might have to go through, due to his father's job, her main concern. She was worried for Hotch too, of course. She must be. However, their initial interaction that you'd witnessed hadn't been quite how you'd expect a wife to react to her husband being in a hospital. Though, you suppose, she wasn't really his wife anymore. Not that it mattered to him - you're pretty sure in his eyes, she might as well still be.

You approach, and you can hear Hotch and Haley in conversation about what's going to happen next. Foyet had taken only the page in his address book with her name on it, so his intentions were perfectly clear. Haley and Jack were being targeted by a serial killer. That meant they needed to be protected, and you knew that Hotch would have to break it to her.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Haley asks. You can hear the uncertainty in her voice. You wait outside, trying not to eavesdrop but it was impossible not to overhear.

"No I don't. And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

"Jack has school, Aaron. He has friends. I have a job now." Her voice is accusing and you want to tell her that none of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is the two of them being safe.

"I know. And I'm sorry. We will catch him. And you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you." Hotch's voice comes out low and you can hear the anguish caught in his throat as he speaks to the mother of his child - telling her to take their son and go. Breaking his own heart in the process by keeping Jack away from him. Knowing that that is exactly what Foyet wants. Wants him to suffer.

"Are you sure that we're in danger?" she asks, her voice suggesting that maybe he was overreacting. You feel a surge of anger course through you at that. For her to even suggest that he was overreacting when he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stab wounds was simply…you didn't have the words. He wouldn't make her go through this over nothing!

"Yes."

You decide to intervene then. Before she can question it further and agitate him more. He needed to rest. You knock quickly, alerting them both to your presence. "Haley, the Marshalls are ready for you."

She nods and grabs Hotch's hand. You avert your eyes to give them their privacy as Hotch tells her to be brave and strong. He'll see her and Jack after she's met with them.

Haley walks towards you and you point her to the tall female agent standing at the end of the ICU doors, wearing non-descript clothing in order to not garner too much attention. She nods and looks at you, and you see a hint of something pass through her eyes, like she wants to speak, but then seems to think better of it and walks towards the direction you'd pointed her in.  

You watch her go, before turning to Hotch. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, and then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You hesitate for a second, before walking in. Your presence wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, you hope, so you walk towards the bed and take a seat in the chair to his left, waiting until he decides to look at you.

"How're you feeling?" His face is turned towards you as though he's partially surprised you're even there at all. You wonder if he would've preferred you have left him alone instead.

"They're got me some pretty strong meds," he tells you, indicating towards the I.V. drip connected to his arm.

You lean over and read the chart hanging from the side of the bed, eyes glancing over it. "They got you on all of the good stuff - Hydromorphone will get the job done for sure." You try to smile but you know it won't reach your eyes right now.

"How long did it take you to sound the alarm?"

You shift, tilting the chair to look at him better, your teeth worrying your bottom lip and eyes narrowed, trying to work out why he'd ask that. The smell of a hospital was starting to get to you a bit - that odd smell that feels like despair and cleaning supplies. "Ten minutes. At 8:35, I called your cell and you didn't pick up. I called again at 8:36 and 8:37 and 8:38. At 8:39 I told myself I was acting crazy and that the weird feeling I had wasn't anything really. I just needed some breakfast. At 8:40, I called Penelope and had her track you down." You remembered the ten minutes of pure panic you'd gone through when he hadn't been outside at exactly 8:30AM. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. With Hotch, you'd expected him to be there at 8:25AM and so you'd been ready to go by 8:15AM with a travel mug of coffee for the both of you in each hand. He also always texted you when he left his place to come to yours and you hadn't gotten an ETA text that morning. Maybe that's what had originally put you on edge.

He looks at you, an odd look on his face at your explanation as if he's trying to decide what to make of it - the entirely detailed and rambling explanation he got from you, likely catching him off guard a bit. Great, he thinks I'm insane.

A small smile makes its way to his face however, and you're glad he's still capable of that, despite everything. You haven't yet looked down at his bandages. Foyet had stabbed him nine times. You'd seen the notes that Rossi had taken - what Foyet had said to Hotch as he stabbed him. Talking about how Hotch has profiled him as being impotent. The mere act of stabbing Hotch while taunting him with that particular piece of the profile -it filled your stomach with churning acid. It was the closest to sexual assault that Foyet could inflict upon Hotch and you're trying hard not to think about the emotional and mental ramifications of it all for him. The physical was one thing - that's something that people can move past with time. The violation of one's home and one's body however - the toll that takes on ones being and sense of self - that's much more difficult to bury.

Just to even think that he was exaggerating - you're mad all over again at Haley. You shouldn't be. You know that isn't fair at all. She was having her whole life upended. And yet…he was the one in a hospital bed and you're having a hard time recalling her seeming at all concerned for him. She must've been, of course. But…he didn't deserve to be made to feel like shit because of it. It wasn't his fault. Knowing him, he really would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

You avert your eyes to stare at the wheels at the bottom of the bed. They'd wheeled him, unconscious, past you when you'd first arrived at the hospital, not bothering to go into the office and instead arriving straight from your place via a cab. You'd been the first one there, having Garcia call the rest of the team. You'd called Rossi so that he could be the one to call Haley. He'd known her longer. You'd limped your way into the ICU, bypassing every single security check with a flash of your badge.

Pointless really. They wouldn't let you see him. Family first. You had to wait for Haley and Rossi to arrive - they were his emergency contacts. You briefly wondered if that was because he'd never bothered to update it after the divorce or if that was truly still the case - if she would be the person he'd want to have during an emergency.

"Can I say something?" Your voice comes out small and hesitant. He hadn't said anything in the wake of your explanation earlier.

He nods, looking at you curiously.

You wet your lips, clearing your throat a bit and sitting up straighter. It's not your place, and yet.. someone should say it. Someone should tell him.

"Sometimes, when we love people, we allow them to hurt us. We allow them to ignore our pain in favor of elevating their own. We allow them to bypass our feelings and our needs because we believe we aren't as worthy of having what we need acknowledged. I get why, of course. Especially right now, but.." You trail off, not knowing how to finish what you'd started in a way that didn't complete overstep the boundaries that you'd already crossed. He'd know you had heard. He didn't need to know that right now, you didn't exactly love his ex wife. You liked her just fine. But right then, you didn't appreciate how she'd treated him.

Hotch looks at you, breath caught by your words. He hadn't realized you'd overheard the conversation between him and Haley. There could be no other reason for you to be saying all of that. You'd said it all softly, hesitantly, knowing you were crossing some sort of line and yet you'd still said it because you felt he needed to hear it. We love.. We allow… We believe… You were speaking from some amount of personal experience. Your first question to him had been about how he was doing - unlike both Rossi and Prentiss who had asked him what happened. He's not sure why the distinction matters, yet it does.

Haley was right too, however. He can't be upset with her. This was all his fault. He hadn't made a deal with Foyet and now his family - his son - their lives were being upended. Haley had already put up with a lot during their marriage. The divorce should've meant that she no longer had to bear the consequences of his job. He can't help but feel guilty for that - for putting her in this situation. Especially when he's so overtly aware that he could've kept it from happening.

He watches as you sit in that chair, eyeing him apprehensively, chewing on your bottom lip. You care. He can tell you care. You care so overwhelmingly that it's hard to deny it. Sometimes he wishes you didn't. It would make things a lot easier on him if he could think that he felt something for someone that didn't even think about him - that he never crossed your mind even. However, there's far too much proof to the contrary. So instead he has to live with knowing that you care about him, that you think of him, that you likely - in some capacity - love him. The way one might love a friend or a mentor. Somehow that's worse because he has to then deal with you saying stuff like this. Things that make it seem like only you care.

He doesn't know what to say and he can feel tears forming that he's quick to blink away, hoping you hadn't noticed. He swallows and just nods, not trusting himself to say much of anything that didn't involve asking you to stay - possibly forever, because for the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, he feels seen.

You try to smile and change the subject, fill him in on the Marshalls' plan with Haley and Jack. Offer to get him ice chips or some food that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. He notices how at ease you seem in the hospital, and comes to the conclusion that maybe a family member had spent some time in one. You seem to know which nurses to talk to in order to get whatever you needed. You watch like a hawk when they come to do anything with his medications. He's pretty certain you would've slept there overnight had Rossi not asked you to help Morgan with something on the ongoing case.

He misses you as soon as you leave.

*------------*

You catch Jack and Haley on your way out. You know you won't be seeing Jack for a while. The Marshalls would be taking them today. Everything was going to change for them.

You nod at Agent Montgomery - the U.S. Marshall that's going to be on their case for the time being. She shifts, moving to the doorway to give you guys a moment.

Haley is seated at the table, her hands holding onto some paperwork. She meets your eyes briefly and nods before returning to the documents. There's a pen in her hands and you can't help but note that her fingers shake around it a bit.

Jack is seated at another table nearby, Agent Montgomery having cleared the breakroom for their meeting.

"Hey buddy." You kneel down to where Jack has been sitting, coloring a printout that one of the nurses must've provided. Jack turns to you, showing off his work. "That looks amazing, Jack!"

He beams with pride at your praise. "Thanks, Y/N."

"I have to head out, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

Jack gets up and hugs you, wrapping his little pudgy arms tightly around your neck, allowing you to sweep him up entirely. You know this is the last time you'll get to hold him for quite a while, so you allow it to linger, hugging him back tight. "I love you, Jack." Whispered into his ear while you blink back tears.

You release him and stand, making sure he's settled back into his activity and occupied, before turning to Haley. She stands, walks with you a small distance away from Jack. It isn't fair, what's happening to her. You don't really hold anything against her. It's awful, entirely awful what's happening - her whole life was about to be uprooted because of your jobs. Because of all of your collective failure to catch Foyet the first time. It was your mistake and her and Jack were going to pay for it.

You look up at her and you can see how entirely scared she is of what's about to happen. To have to do this on your own was one thing. Doing it with a partner, another. To have to do it all alone while supporting a child - she wouldn't have anyone she knew to rely upon. All by herself and unable to trust anyone.

"We're going to find him. We're gonna catch him. I promise." You know words were of little solace but that's all you have to give right then.

She smiles, a watery smile to match the unshed tears in her eyes. There's a shaky nod before she moves forward, hugging you in much the same manner Jack had. She's a bit taller than you, so you try to stand straight, allowing her to lean against you. "Take care of him." Her voice is a whisper against your ear, as though she's entrusting you with something extremely precious. Which she is, you suppose. She's counting on you to make sure that Hotch would be alright. That Jack's father would be fine, awaiting his son's return.

"I will."

*------------*

It had been a week since Foyet had left Hotch outside the hospital. A week since Haley and Jack had been taken into WITSEC protective custody and given new identities in an unknown location. A week since Morgan had become the new acting Unit Chief of the BAU, taking over in Hotch's stead. To the public - to the outside world - and especially to Foyet, it had to seem like his attack on Hotch had left him completely alone and broken - no wife, no kid, no team to lead.

You hated it.

The team had been assigned a new case late Sunday evening after you'd all pretty much spent the past couple of days in the hospital. Hotch was discharged earlier in the day and was under strict orders to stay on bedrest for the time being. You'd all flown out early Monday morning and it was now Saturday evening, the case having stretched out the entire week due to the Unsub's kill schedule.

You got back home after submitting your report, grabbing a water and a pack of the little bunny crackers you keep on hand for Jack. You're pretty sure you won't be seeing Jack before those expire and someone should eat them. You shower and get dressed for bed, thinking about Hotch. You knew he was home and would be coming back to work next week, doing the absolute bare minimum bed rest that the doctor had mandated. You're fairly certain the doctor had been intimidated into it by Hotch's severe face, daring him to say anything longer than a week.

It's fairly late by the time you actually crawl into bed, plugging your phone into the charger by the nightstand and flickering off the lights, plunging the room into darkness save for the red glow of the alarm clock stating that it was now eleven o'clock. You wonder if anyone has checked in on him while the team has been away. Perhaps Jess, but she must also be out of her mind with worry about Haley and Jack.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you've grabbed your phone and scrolled to his name in your Favorites, pressing on it. You hold the phone up to your ear and listen as it rings, once, twice, thrice, until you hear the sound of it being picked up.

"Hotchner." His voice is low but doesn't sound sleepy, so you're at least confident that you hadn't woken him up. Having nothing to do but lay around must be messing with his carefully regulated sleep schedule.

You suppress a laugh at his formal no-nonsense greeting, even though he undoubtedly knows it's you. "Hey." Your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Is everything alright?" There's a slight edge evident in his voice and you realize that maybe calling him at eleven at night when his wife - ex-wife - and kid are being kept away safe wasn't exactly the right move.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's alright. I'm sorry. I just called to check in. How are you?"

There's a pause where you can hear the ambient sounds of your house settling in along with him shifting - the rustling of a bedsheet and the groan of the frame as he moves to adjust himself. So he had been in bed when you called.

Finally, you hear, "I'm alright. Thank you for dropping off the food."

"Yeah, yeah of course," you respond, your heartbeat picking up a bit for some reason. You figure it's because you're unsure of the call itself still and knowing that Hotch was in bed and you'd likely disturbed him in some sense at least, makes you feel a little uneasy.

For his part, Aaron had been going stircrazy, sitting at home with nothing whatsoever to do. The Marshalls had taken Haley and Jack the very same day. Dave had taken him from the hospital and back to his apartment and Garcia and JJ had dropped by the same day with some groceries and a couple of ready to eat meals for him.

He spent most of Sunday sleeping, the strong painkillers making him drowsy. Monday morning, he awoke to his doorbell and his nurse, Eric, from the hospital was there to help him with the dressage. He didn't think that was covered by his insurance - he could only imagine how much home visits from a medical professional cost - and had told Eric there was some sort of mistake. However, Eric had insisted that someone at the hospital had already worked it out and insurance wasn't an issue - this was a covered service apparently. Since Aaron already knew him, and he really could use the help, he'd let him in. Eric had entered holding a large box of food as well, that he said had been left at the door along with a note. After Eric left, Aaron had opened the box to reveal pre-portioned meals - all homemade, all different, all things he could throw in a microwave easily. The note was just signed with your name, telling him to call if he needed anything else.

He'd slept through most of the days, awakening only to let Eric in daily. He ate only because he had to in order to take his medications. Otherwise his mind was a haze of thoughts and worries - worrying about Jack and Haley, about Foyet being around the next corner, about the team managing without him, and somewhere at the farthest reaches of his mind your face danced around - worried and concerned for him, despite doing your very best to appear otherwise.

When your name flashed across his phone late at night, at first he felt the thrust of panic - that something had happened. And then there's your voice, calm and even, asking him how he's doing. No one else had called him. Dave and Prentiss had texted once or twice over the week, but with a case going on, everyone had been busy.

There's a brush of silence after he thanks you for the food and he can hear you take a breath and shift ever so much. He realizes that you're calling him while most likely lying in bed. It causes his heart to speed up and a tight coil to begin tightening in his stomach. It's utterly benign - he has no reason to feel that way, and yet, yet he does.

"How was the case?" he asks, desperate for someone to speak with, not wanting the phone call to end.

You're slightly surprised but you easily talk him through the details of the case, the profiling process and how the team had approached it. You find yourself babbling on for a while as he asks you questions about the evidence, how the local detectives had been, how the team was doing.

Aaron listens to you, taking it all in. You're good at this, providing all the details you know he'd want. You notice everything, all the little things. How the local detectives had responded to Morgan being in charge - how it had been easier for JJ to liaise with them more closely instead. How Reid was getting much more comfortable with having a weapon in the field. There's a soft, sleepy quality to you despite your obvious willingness to tell him everything. Your voice like a salve, doing more for him than any of the medications the doctors had prescribed.

He's not sure when or how, but the conversation has meandered from the case to something Prentiss had told you once, to a story he had of Dave and Gideon back when he first joined the team, and then to a professor of yours from college who had been particularly invested in the Bundy trials in a near obsessive manner. He finds himself laughing for the first time since that night at the bar with you.

When his eyes next catch the time, it is past 2AM. You'd been on the phone for the past three hours. Before this, the longest phone call he's ever had was fifteen minutes.

"It's late," he whispers, almost as though he doesn't want you hear him. "You should get some sleep."

You glance at your clock and find yourself shocked at how long the two of you had been on the phone together. Who knew Hotch was even capable. Though, you figure, you'd been doing the bulk of the talking, rambling on about something or the other. He must be utterly exhausted of listening to your voice.

"You should too," you murmur through a yawn, your eyes flickering under the weight of your lashes.

"Good night, Y/N." You can hear a smile in his voice and it's almost as though you can feel him - the way he feels when he hugs you, warm and strong, firm against you, surrounding you completely with his being.

"Night Hotch."

*------------*

Hotch had been back a couple of weeks and the team was adjusting. While Morgan was indeed the public face of the team, Hotch was very still involved and working far too much behind the scenes. You've kept an eye on him, looking for signs of him overexerting himself. He is, of course. He's burying himself in work, diving in head first because that's likely easier than focusing on everything else. So far, all you've done is give him looks that say Shouldn't you be going home? and Is this really what you want to spend a Wednesday at 9PM doing? He doesn't acknowledge them openly but you know that he knows that you see exactly what he's trying to do. He'll leave once he realizes that you're staying if he is.  

You're not quite sure how to check on him during the weekends. Before, you used to have Jack as the reason why you saw him. Now, without Jack, you're not quite sure how to go about seeing Hotch and making sure he's alright, without it somehow being seen as overstepping. You nudge Rossi to go check on him one of the days and then another, you invited the entire team over for dinner so that you know he ate. You know he won't let you cook for him if he's no longer on bedrest, even though the way he holds his gun and the sharp inhale he takes anytime he has to put the Kevlar on is extremely telling.

JJ wants everyone in the conference room on the other side of the floor since your regular one is taken and she calls you to inform everyone of the change in venue for the scheduled meeting. You glance up from your desk after having told Derek and Emily of the location change, trusting them to tell Spencer when he returns. JJ isn't expecting everyone for another half hour, and Emily had caught Rossi as he was heading out to lunch, so he's also aware. Emily and Derek follow in his steps, asking if you're going to join them, but you wave them on ahead.

You take the steps up to Hotch's office swiftly, knocking and turning the knob in one motion, only to find him standing behind his desk, no jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned, a patch of red visible on his skin from one of the stab wounds inflicted by Foyet. He looks up at you and you can feel the surprise in his eyes. It was your fault, you should've waited. That was stupid. Your eyes can't seem to look away from the blood spotting the otherwise white wrappings that sit in a pile on the desk.

"I - I'm sorry," you stutter out, blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of you. You notice that his shirt was also equally marred, the blood having seeped through. You'd obviously interrupted him.

He draws a breath, and you can see him try to put on a mask of being unbothered by your sudden appearance. "Did you need something?"

'Um, JJ had to move the briefing to the other conference room," you inform him, still unable to look away. You're staring. You know are. It's dawning upon you how entirely you'd fucked up. Hotch was such a private person. He'd hate having someone see him in such a state of vulnerability.

He nods. "Thank you. Could you close the door, please?"

You don't move from your spot in the doorway.

"Y/N?"

You're not sure what exactly has overcome you, except this overwhelming need to take care of him. Especially now, right then when he's hurting. Bleeding quite literally. Hotch takes care of everyone. Every single one of you. But no one takes care of him. Not the way he needs to be cared for.

You cross the threshold, shutting and locking the door behind you. He seems entirely taken aback as you approach him silently. There's a voice in your head telling you that this, right here, this was the definition of overstepping. Yet, there is a more insistent compulsion residing within you, urging you forward until you've reached him. He looks at you, confusion in his features.

"Let me." You reach for the alcohol wipes on the table, meant to disinfect the affected region.

He doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't move, making it difficult for you to actually reach him as he's standing flush to his desk. He only looks at you, brows scrunched together, the pronounced cleft of his lower lip set tightly.

"Let me." You repeat yourself, moving forward and forcing him to back up a little and make room for you. You deftly move to sit on his desk, facing him, and beckon him towards you without looking up. If you looked up, you might lose your nerve.

You part your legs and much to your surprise, he actually moves forward, coming to settle between them. You can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You're suddenly very aware of the friction between his dress pants and the material of your own fitted ones.

You take the alcohol wipe and tear open the packaging, unraveling the cloth before cautiously moving towards him and dabbing at the area that seemed to have opened up slightly. He releases a sharp hiss and suddenly, his hand is at your waist, gripping tightly. You pause, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut, lips pressed tightly together. After a second, he nods, indicating at you to continue. He doesn't make a sound again as you clean up the area, though he does tighten his grip ever so slightly a couple more times.

You look at the items on his desk and pick up the jar of salve that he must put on prior to the dressings. Carefully, you unscrew the lid, looking up at him with a question in your eyes. He nods again, barely looking at you.

You try to do it quickly. Fingers picking up some of the salve and gingerly spreading it over the region, brushing past raised skin, puckered up as it heals. Slowly. Not fast enough for him.

Aaron watches as your head is bent, teeth biting down on your lower lip in concentration as you gently span the entirely of his chest and stomach. Soft, dainty fingers quickly working so as to put him out of his misery faster.

Of all people, he didn't want you to see him this way. So vulnerable, so exposed, so scarred. You'd thrown him off balance when you hadn't quickly scampered away after you realized your error in barging in. Approached him with such purpose that he hadn't known how to turn you away.

You reach for the fresh roll of gauze next, swallowing as you look up at him once again. "This would be easier if you take the shirt off."

He shrugs it off at your words, placing it on the back of his chair. There's a fresh shirt on the seat of his chair. He'd been prepared, it would seem.

"This might put a dent in the line of women waiting to pounce." He indicates towards his chest, self deprecation dripping from his weak attempt at humor, in an effort to cut whatever imaginary tension he had made up in his head.

You look at his face, seeing the vulnerability and insecurity as plain as can be. He doesn't need to verbalize his thoughts in order for you to know exactly what he's thinking. What he's been thinking.

Who would want someone this grotesque?

Who would want a man as broken as this?

Who could possibly bear the sight of him - marred forever? His very flesh a perpetual reminder of the terror he wades through, the monsters he encounters, the horror that is his life.

"No."

Your answer is simple, straightforward. Yet nothing has ever confused him more as he watches you hold one end of the gauze to the front of his chest near the top of the scarring, and then bring the roll around his back, over it to hold it in place, your small hands ghosting over his skin with the utmost propriety, intent in making this as painless, as easy, as comfortable for him as possible.

"I'm not going to tell you some patronizing bullshit about scars being beautiful."

You control your breath in easy measured paces, forcing him to follow along. One breath in. Pause. Breath out. Repeat. You continue to wrap the dressing around his chest slowly, your eyes fixed on the task at hand to ensure that it was all straight and even, tight but not too tight.

"They do, however, speak to all that you've endured. All that you've conquered. Overcome. Anyone who loves you will see you just as you are. They would think you absolutely incredible. Regardless of anything. Because of it all."

Aaron focuses on your voice, soft and melodic and yet sure. So very sure. How could you possibly be so sure?

"Someone who loves you will see the scars," your fingers press ever so slightly against his chest, "and they will know. They will know all that you've undergone to become who are - how you survived despite the odds."

You take a sudden shuddered breath as you recall the sight of him unconscious in the hospital bed, being wheeled past you. You're quick to shake it away.

"They will be grateful. To have you, scars and all."

You finish, tucking in the end of the gauze firmly and ensuring it wouldn't come loose with just the slightest of motions.

You look up at him then, finally meeting his eyes properly. Beautiful, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold brought on by the late afternoon sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Aaron can't help but look at you. He rarely gets to see you this up close. So very close. If he were to just bend down the smallest amount, there'd be no space at all. Your hair bundled back into a professional low bun, soft wisps framing your face. The cupid's bow lips - pouty, pink, perfect lips. The upturned nose and the slight babyface cheeks that accompanied it. He realizes his hand is still gripped onto your waist and he's reluctant to remove it. Not yet. In a bit. Not yet.

"Thank you." His eyes are closed as he says it so he misses it when you nod your acknowledgement.

You lean past him, one hand grabbing his forearm for balance while the other reaches for the shirt on the chair. You'd started the job. Might as well finish it. You unbutton the collar and he takes it from you, quickly slipping it on, and yet not moving away. His hand returns to your waist. Staying where you could easily reach up and start buttoning it for him. So you do.

Aaron knows you don't need a response to everything you'd said. He also is quite certain that you believe it. No matter the entirely shallow world you'd been a part of, he knows that you aren't like that. You might be a little vain - the nice clothes and makeup, the care you put into your own appearance. However, you're not vain like this.

Aaron breathes out a deep sigh that he'd been holding for some time as you dexterously work each button into its proper hole. He really could get used to this. To you.

"Why do you always sit on stuff?" His voice is soft and low, calmer.

You glance up, noting the slight humor dancing behind his eyes while he waits for your answer.

You can't help but smile, a breath of laughter escaping you just barely. "I suppose…because I'm short," you admit, shaking your head as you continue down the trail of buttons. "Makes it easier for me to be at eye level if I sit on higher surfaces."

He laughs. A near boisterous laugh. His chest rumbles underneath your hands, causing your fingers to tremble.

You can't help but laugh along with him, releasing a deep held breath as you do.

He would be alright. He would.

[veiledsilver]

Top five moments you've felt like the universe was messing with you.

Oh boy everyone get ready this is a long list. In descending order, from mildly funny looking back on it to "oh god oh shit oh fuck":

5. Catfishing: College Edition

In 6th grade, I decided to apply to colleges early to see how they were like. I was scared that if they knew I was too young, they'd arrest me. So I created a gmail account as my persona, a white 12th grader named Emilie Alexander. Emilie was planning to go into nursing, dating a high school linebacker named Kyle Kenderson, and deathly allergic to bee stings. If she even came near a bee, she would die.

This part was of the utmost importance.

See, I was constantly paranoid that one day, the jig would be up- I might forget that my fake last name was Alexander. Or the college dean might come knocking at my door and tear up my home in his mad search for Emilie. If that happened I would fake her tragic death, presumably caused by one big fucking bee.

I secretly collected my information. What nearby states were the prettiest to visit. Which colleges were the safest and most affordable. How often they held courses that I liked. In my emails with colleges I tried to sound as mature and professional as possible.

Then, one day, a college member asked me what high school I was in, so they could check my records.

My blood froze.

It was time to bring out the bee.

In response to their question, I sent an email that was like this:

"Dear Mr. McLaughlin, I was a proud graduate of- ugh! Ah! Kyaaaa! Uwaa! W-w-what's this... huge goddamn bee doing here?! Eek, pardon my foul language! It's just that, as I told you earlier, being stung by a bee would kill me.... and now it's stung me thrice (three times)!!

What do I do?! I can't die... I've always wanted to attend your beautiful college...

But this is... the end...

Mr. McLaughlin...

*looks at you sadly*

Tell... my mother... I loved her...

*dies*"

He never responded, probably because he was rendered speechless, but I never touched that account again.

My private gmail for fun stuff like tumblr still has "Alexander" as a surname, though.

4. Wild and Authentic

Alright. Alright. So. My art teacher in middle school.

Right off the bat, they endeared themselves to the tumblr art kids- they proudly used they/them pronouns, dyed their hair vibrant colors, deeply encouraged OC creation, and was chill with any art style even if it was anime. Mx. Mason was very cool, except for one thing.

We had complete artistic freedom when it came to their assignments, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING.

Drumroll, please.

Take a deep breath if you must.

Ready?

...

Cats had to have extremely distinct whisker pores.

YES, they believed that modern depictions of cats were too streamlined. Too... idealized. As a cat owner themselves, they were convinced that society's vision of cats did not do their feral feline ancestors justice. In making their faces flawlessly smooth-furred, we were stripping the cat of its true nature.

I found this out the hard way, when I was drawing warrior cats fanart for class (it was of Firestar cuddled in the arms of an orange haired anime catgirl who was his reincarnation in my first ever comic series, Warriors Neko Desu! ♡ Heart Academy Dokidoki).

Mx. Mason came over to look at my magnum opus, and I expected them to have their socks knocked off at my artistic talent. They lifted up my drawing for all to see, and I smugly leaned back in my seat.

Only for them to launch into a passionate lecture about how, in neglecting to draw whisker pores on cats, I was DENYING THIS FICTIONAL CAT OF ITS WILD AUTHENTIC SELF.

My friends absolutely lost it when I told them this story, and there was a period of time when all our discord nicknames were wild and authentic too.

As for Firestar and his counterpart Hoshineko Orenji-chan, I never did give them wild authentic whisker holes, but that's to be expected of a kittypet, I guess.

3. Stan Jungkook Or Whatever

A couple years ago, my family and I flew to Seoul, South Korea, to visit our relatives and teach me more about my heritage. It was very nice! I got to visit shrines and festivals and palaces, and I was in awe that this was what my ancestors had once seen in their daily lives.

Then, when we went to the modern side of Korea, I realized just how much I didn't fit in.

It was clear that I didn't know how to act, or how to speak Korean, and I spent my days fumbling around and getting scammed multiple times by salesmen. But I clowned myself the most... during an interactive event with kpop stars.

They had this experimental event where holograms of the boys would sing onstage and dance in place of the actual idols. Before the show began, girls could stand in booths that scanned their appearances, and holograms of THEM could dance onstage with the hologram boys.

I didn't know this.

When Cousin Ae-cha told me to step inside one of the machines, I thought I'd be hilarious and stand backwards, so it would scan the back of me instead of my front. As I walked out, I saw other girls putting on their best makeup, cutest clothes, and most expensive accessories, and I slowly realized that I was in danger.

But the danger didn't come until halfway through the concert, where the boys looked eagerly off-stage and a holy staircase appeared and all the hologram girls descended from heaven. There were cherry blossoms. There were roses. There was me, among the crowd of beautiful airbrushed girls, walking backwards.

I felt the judgemental gazes of twenty girls and their mothers.

Each boy danced with a girl, who got a cute animated moment with special effects, and sang about how they found a dream girl to have a true love romance with. Finally, all the girls vanished except one, and it was me.

One of the boys didn't dance with any girls, and now he was all alone in the rain, feeling dejected that HE did not find his true love girl to have a dream romance with. Then the rain stopped, the sun came out, and I emerged. Still backwards.

He was thrilled and sang about how my face (that he didn't see) stole his heart, and now everyone in the audience was giggling, and he slowly brought me very close to kiss me... but because I was backwards, his nose was cutely nuzzling my hair.

The audience members- at least the adults- were now laughing their asses off. His lips met the back of my head, and together we vanished into the wind.

I'd say I couldn't show my face there ever again, but I never did show my face, so... hm...

2. Horrid Little Temptress

If I wasn't a minor, I'd need a drink before starting this story. Sadly, I cannot drown my sorrows- and neither should you after you hear this, because it's only fair.

Mrs. Appleby was my Spanish teacher in like, 9th grade. Even the wild and authentic art teacher thought she was insane. Appleby forced kids to brew tea for her and yelled at them when they didn't get it right, and I thought she had a chronic squint until I realised she just did that to mock me and my Asian eye-folds. She forced us to watch Dora the Explorer to "absorb knowledge." Everyone fucking hated Mrs. Appleby.

But the worst thing she ever did... was during the school festival.

See, whenever she's angry, she zooms right into kids' faces to scream at them. Her wrinkled flesh would blot out the goddamn sun and all you see are her bloodshot yellow eyeballs so victims just stayed rooted to the spot like cornered animals or something similar. This is important.

Because when she was sampling her own brownies (read: hoarding them so no one else could eat them), one parent foolishly decided to grab one and she thought it was a student and she grabbed his wrist so hard she could've nearly snapped it and... and... zoomed into his face.

Except she underestimated his height and kissed him by accident, but it was more like her mouth was sucking in his face like a vacuum.

His wife was shrieking like an ape. His kid, my classmate, saw his social life flash before his eyes.

In her defense, she did not mouth to mouth with him on purpose and afterwards she cried in the bathroom and when I foolishly followed her in to comfort her, because I am a teacher's pet through and through, she snatched the paper towels I got for her and wailed that she was a-

A-

HORRID LITTLE TEMPTRESS.

If I had decided to not be kind, I never would've heard that string of fucking words. But I did. And I paid for it dearly. The end.

1. Violence IS The Answer, Sometimes

Thomas, my dearly detested.

Back in sixth grade, I used to have a crush on him because he had the surfer boy look with nicely tanned skin and pale blond hair and the clearest aquamarine eyes I've ever seen. He also liked surfing and swimming. He seemed like the perfect little trophy waifu except for one absolute dealbreaker.

He and his parents were extremely conservative and so, when I told him I liked him, his response was basically "haha no you're a [slur] and would probably eat my dog."

I was horrified and ran away to cry. But then, by the next day, I decided I needed to punish him. Thomas walked in before class started and I was waiting for him with these hands. I kicked him so he doubled over, slammed his face into his chair's seat, and quickly clambered on top of him to SIT ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. He started shaking and twitching and trying to pry me off, but eventually he went limp and stopped moving.

I thought he fell asleep, but Mohammed, another classmate who was bullied by Thomas, told me that Thomas might never wake up again (not that he was very sad about this. I didn't know until later, but Thomas said slurs at him too).

While I was sitting on the guy, he'd straight up passed out from the lack of oxygen.

Screaming and crying, I told our homeroom teacher that Thomas suddenly fainted, and she was the type of Caucasian that thought all little Asian kids were sweet and innocent, so it didn't even cross her mind that? It might've been me? Who sat on his head when she walked in?

He was sent home early that day. I had to go to a different school next year because Thomas's mom threatened legal action. The only reason I didn't get punished further was because my rich cousins out-Karen'd her and donated a huge amount of money to the school to keep them quiet.

Anyway, I never did anything that insane ever again, because something like that is enough for a lifetime. My cousins made it clear they would never back me up again. I was sure this whole event would be put behind me, too.

But last fall, during my first day of online learning... who did I see in my zoom meeting... BUT THOMAS! I had my mic and camera off, but the moment he saw my name, his face went pale. His soul would've left his body, but then it would've gone to hell, so it wisely decided to stay inside.

Still, out of shame and embarrassment, I never turned my camera on for the rest of the school year.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Sharing Is Caring - Gar Logan x Reader Soulmate AU

Words: 2.3k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Hiya I love your writing and it’s cute that you call us angels hehehe! May I request 18 with beast boy in teen titans where a new titan (fem! reader) joins and they finally touch during a battle or something and the sparks go off? based of the AU you did with familiar green!” (18. I think you might be my soulmate)

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I’m so happy you like the AU and I love BB so this is perfect! Also yes - I do call y’all angels because you’re always making me so happy and fulfilled so thank you for the amazing request angel I hope you like it <3 Also I there’s lots of Teen Titans universes so I went with the Titans from right after Justice League vs. Teen Titans before D.A. goes and rips my heart up haha. Let me have me moment.

“Welcome to the Titans y/h/n!” Kori greeted you, reaching out a hand. You clasped it, feeling her energy radiate but you closed yourself off from pulling her powers. “TT she doesn’t look all that powerful” a short, domino mask clad, child teen starred at you. “Shush Damian let her get settled in then she can show off her talents” Nightwing chided Damian who crossed his arms staring at you. “I think a new team member is sick! Welcome y/h/n!” a green colored boy grinned ear to ear. “Uh hi, is there somewhere I can put my stuff?” you trusted Nightwing, Dick as he had recently told you. 

Martian Manhunter had found you on an away mission. Some form of test subject you were a confusing mash between human dna and white martian, unable to shift on your own, who ever’s experiment you were had weaponized martian dna turning you into a parasite. You realized this during your training, and learned to control the leeching, even discovering a way to share the powers of others without harming them. Eventually on your next birthday you pretended your powers had disappeared. Seeing as only you could now activate your powers your captor rendered you useless, a weapon with no more bullets. At that he gave you to alien traffickers, who had little use for a human girl. Then, working tirelessly on a planet of some random sector the green martian stormed you, sensing the white martian blood. Fast forward through a terrifying fight and explanation, you had been brought to earth and dropped in the hands of Nightwing. He promised you a team and finally, a family. 

“Yeah I’ll take you to your room” Dick smiled, placing a hand on the small of your back - that’s when you realized he was powerless. Human touch was comforting, you didn’t have to suppress the desire to share, or steal human’s abilities, it was refreshing. As the two of you walked through the tower Dick explained about each person on your team while he gave you a tour. You had learned that Raven was quiet but trustworthy, Blue Beetle was uber powerful but kind of a loose cannon - you wondered if you could test your powers on his, next was Robin who was the newest but was cold yet secretly cared, according to Dick at least, then there was Cyborg who came and went, and finally Beast Boy who was apparently the easiest to get along with, even though he was green. It was a lot to take in while also trying to memorize the floor plan of the seemingly never ending tower. Finally you arrived at your room and began setting it up. You didn’t have much as you were new to earth, but you had a few rocks from the planet you were working on and some new furniture and clothing Dick had bought you before you arrived. 

Putting the finishing touches on you room you heard a knock at the door. As you approached it slid open to reveal a cheery green boy. “Hi! Nightwing told me to give you your new suit! It’s totally cool look!” he pushed a suit into your hands with a smile as he continued talking. “It’s like my suit! Super stretchy and stuff because of your powers. What exactly are your powers cuz this suit kinda has it all? Fireproof, waterproof, light weight, maneuverable, but it doesn’t have any cool gadgets like Robin’s so that means you have to have powers!” he rambled on while you took in his appearance. He looked confident and kind, like was happy to be in his own skin regardless of the color, he had light freckles that peppered across his nose and he had the prettiest eyes, they were a delicate light brown with golden flecks, they were mesmerizing; and they were staring right at you.

“Uh hello? Earth to hero?” you flushed as Beast Boy had caught you staring. “Oh sorry thanks this is great! Uh do I have to wear it all the time or?” you still hadn’t quite picked up on the way life was around the tower. “No, not unless you want to! Also y/h/n is cool but some of us, me included have real names too! So as you already know Beast Boy, Garfield. Please to meet you!” He stuck out a hand but retracted it when he realized you had moved back into your room to put away your suit. “Oh okay! I’ve always wanted a real name!” you called from halfway inside your closet. Pausing to think of the perfect name that really represented who you wanted to be on earth you decided. “Y/n” you called out to Garfield who still stood in your doorway. “Cool name! Y/n - I like it! Well, I think you have to get settled in but catch you later for training y/n!” he bounded down the hall, lucky for you he was quick enough he didn’t catch the blush dancing across your face everytime he said “y/n”. 

Your room looked good as you headed towards the kitchen, excited to try whatever real humans ate. “Y/n! I hope you don’t mind but Gar filled us in on your name and it’s pretty cool!” Blue Beetle waved at you from the kitchen. Sitting down at the kitchen island you peered over to see what he was making. “Hungry? Gar and I are eating grilled cheese. I can make you one?” you nodded, fascinated with the way the bread browned on the pan. As he slid you your plate you saw a green dog running towards the kitchen. Terrified you stood up, ready to take on the creature, hoping Blue Beetle wouldn’t mind sharing a little juice. The dog noticed your alarm as it shifted into Garfield. “Woah y/n sorry, you probably don’t really know all about us yet! Dude thanks for the meal Jaime!” Gar slid into a chair a couple seats over and he began digging in. The grilled cheese was delicious, after giving your compliments to the chef the three of you began talking about your lives. You learned a ton about Jaime and Gar, really happy that they were so welcoming. “So what are your guys powers? Besides turning into a dog and all” you smirked at Gar who stuck his tongue out at you. A familiar voice interrupted you, “actually y/h/n I think it’s better of you come see for yourself! Up for a little training?” you turned to see Dick who stood next to Raven and Robin. 

“So to help y/n understand her new team mates lets do a little one on one!” the others looked bored while you couldn’t help but be excited. Jaime and Robin were chosen first. It blew your mind to watch blue colored metal envelop Jaime’s body. Damian was also shockingly talented, you assumed he was powerless like Dick because of the heritage and the fact that his suit had a tool belt as Gar had said. The two danced around the practice area, bantering about the weakness of the other and what not the entire time. Damian soon had Blue Beetle pinned down and even though you knew he could go further, Jaime pulled out of the fight. 

Next was Raven and Nightwing because apparently Dick demanded a “rematch” from last time. Raven’s powers were by far the most amazing. Your jaw dropped as black light seemed to lift any object at her will, including Dick. What you didn’t expect was that the powerless defeated their opponent again. It was so exciting. All that was left was you and Beast Boy. Before you could begin you realized you needed to explain your powers to the team. “Okay wait! I’m gonna need some help for my battle” the others look surprised but Dick nodded, encouraging you to explain. 

“Okay so basically I’m half human half martian. I know it sounds super scary but technically the experiment with my dna was a failure. I control my own powers even though I really have none. As you probably know martians are shape shifters right? They take the form of creatures along with other mind bending powers. What the scientists did with me was basically taking away the creativity and giving me more control. See, I started with the ability to steal the powers of other creatures, like a parasite. I hated the feeling of snatching the life force of other creatures so I essentially taught myself to share. Because of the martian blood I can set up a link between me and another hero where I mirror their power without draining it, like a sharing is caring kinda thing. I was hoping one of you would let me try it?” You finished sheepishly. Dick and Damian shrugged knowing they couldn’t help and Raven was the first to say no. “Y/n I’d be interested in the future but I don’t think I can trust you right now, the power I possess is difficult and confusing and I don’t want us to get hurt” you agreed, after hearing snippets from Gar and Jaime you completely agreed. “Well I’ll let you!” Starfire grinned and you couldn’t help but get excited to show off. 

Taking her hand you established a link, she blinked a couple of times, explaining how it felt like there was an invisible loop between the two of you, but she was completely fine. You could feel her powers radiating heat and energy. After just a few seconds you tested the powers out, throwing blasts of green energy from your hands. “Oh yes you can fly can’t you!” you grinned as you began levitating. The whole team was amazed. “Alright Gar let’s go. But fair warning if I can get a hand on you I might just use some of those shape shifting abilities” you winked. 

The two of you began, using Starfire’s abilities you went on offense, soaring after Beast Boy as he shifted between creatures. Throwing bolts of energy at him you managed to land a hit on him when he was a hawk, he tumbled to the ground but shifted into a cat, landing on all fours. This went on for a few minutes until you saw the opportunity to grab his shoulder and pull some of his energy. Soaring down you kicked him down, pinning him beneath you, reaching for his shoulder. When you touched him, sparks like you’d never felt before erupted. You bounded backwards, quite literally shocked. Beast Boy shifted. back to his normal form, rubbing his shoulder with confusion. 

“I- that’s never happened before. The electricity was - do you have those powers too?” You couldn’t understand what had happened until Damian walked up to you. “TT - Y/n you’re human are you not?” you nodded. Damian turned to stalk over to Garfield, “and so are you Garfield, even though you are quite green” the rest of the titans let out some form of an “oh my god” or “no way” or “only here” and you stood up, still confused. “I don’t get it. Is he a special human that shocks me? That has never happened before why does it make sense to you?!” you stared at the team as their heads all turned to Beast Boy. He got up, closing the distance between the two of you. “Well you probably didn’t learn this on your planet but here, humans have soulmates and when they touched - ” Gar moved his hand to your cheek and the same sparks danced on your skin, you leaned into the touch, the warmth was perfection, something felt right, you looked up at Gar who continued. “when soulmates touch they feel sparks, that’s how you know it’s them and well, I think you might be my soulmate.” he finished. You looked at the others for confirmation. After a couple nods you looked back at Gar.

“But I’m not all human. Shouldn’t I not have a soulmate? I read about it in magazines since I’ve been here but I wrote it off as a human only kinda deal?” Beast Boy shrugged, “hey I’m not all human either, I thought I’d be missing out as well. Fate works in funny ways I guess” you smiled, you had read that soulmates were perfect for each other in every way, coming to Earth seemed scary but knowing you had a forever friend made it seem a lot better.

“I think we can call it quits on practice” Dick started. “The new soulmates probably have a lot of catching up to do, seeing as they’ll kinda be together forever” Damian groaned, saying something about the disgusting idea of soulmates and how he thought he’d probably never have one, Raven quietly agreed. Jaime told the two of you he’d catch up later as he walked off with Dick and Kori. 

Now just the two of you, you reached up to Gar’s face, letting the unfamiliar feeling crackle and pop with electricity. “This is not how I expected my first day to go” you admitted, still trying to wrap your head around the days events. Gar looked at you, his eyes softening, “trust me y/n I did not think today would be like this either. But I did think you were totally cute even before I found out you’re already mine” you laughed, but couldn’t help the butterflies that were now dancing in your stomach. Craving more of the warmth you closed the distance between the two of you, not ready for anything more than a hug just yet, you wrapped your arms around his torso while his tightened around your waist. The books were right, the feeling of your soulmate’s touch was addicting, perfect in every way, you could definitely get used to the idea of feeling this all the time. Pulling away Gar clasped your hand in his and winked at you, “now that you’re my soulmate you can share my powers anytime mamas” you rolled your eyes, but were pretty excited to know what it felt like to take a real cat nap. “I think I might have to take you up on that Greenie” you grinned, resting your head on his shoulder as Gar led you up towards your rooms for some well deserved rest. Finding your soulmate was definitely a great start to your time with the Titans, you couldn’t help but wonder what would be next. 

[peakyblinderswhore]

a/n: demanded! to me by my favourite internet friend. no, but seriously, i loved writing this even more than the first part, it was interesting to get in michael’s head. i hope you like it , maybe i could continue this? also this has been in my drafts since the very first day cause i just kept writing :D

w/c: 2k

[one] [two]

“But,” you whisper, unable to pull yourself from the spot you were frozen to, “you’re married.”

Without missing beat, Michael breathes out, “That’s a fixable mistake.”

“Michael,” you say, unsure of how to act, “I…”

You step away, head spinning from the interaction. When you looked up to face him again, he had disappeared back into his office, almost in a puff of smoke.

Oh god.

You had to leave. Frantically, you dash back towards your desk, trying to grab your purse before realising that your hat and coat were hung up on the cloak hanger in Michael’s office — how convenient. You shake your head and decide to head towards the stairs without them. You’d bared the cold before and could do it again for one journey home.

You practically skip down the stairs, missing a few on your way down. You walk into the main office and Lizzie calls over to you, “You alright, need anything, love?”

Cursing under your breath, you spin on your heels and say the first thing that comes to mind, “Hey, have you seen Finn? He said he was going to help me move my desk about upstairs and he hasn’t come back.”

Lizzie frowns, “I’m sure he went out earlier, hasn’t he come back?” she sighs, walking over to her desk to check a few things once she realises you’re not leaving and mutters, “I swear I’ll give him an earful for leaving you like that.”

Your face heats up, “Oh no,” you say, worriedly, “you don’t need to do that. I was just hoping that he’d do it sooner rather than later. He did say he was going to get Isaiah…” Lizzie looks up from her pile of work, “I just forgot to ask how long he would be, that’s all.”

She smiles, “I see,” she says suggestively, “you’re waiting for him to come back so you two can, you know… do what two people do best.”

Paling at the suggestion (at work!) you sputter, “Oh I wouldn’t —”

“Don’t worry,” she’s got a cheeky smile on by this stage, “I know I would, given the chance,” she leans closer to you and holds up one hand before whispering, “you know, sometimes me and Tommy get caught up in the heat of the moment too.”

You laugh uncomfortably and tighten your grip on your purse until your knuckles go white from trying not to give off that you are incredibly distressed with the way the conversation was headed.

“When the moment strikes,” you awkwardly say, not sure what else to say.

“Correct,” Lizzie returns to her work, “anyway, I’m sure he’ll be here soon. We can go out for lunch, later, if you would like that? Girl power an’ all.”

Grateful for the change in subject you sigh, “That actually sounds amazing, maybe you could give me some tips for keeping everything organised?”

“Whatever you want to talk about, love,” she glances up at the clock, “come back down in an hour and we’ll go then. If Michael asks where you’re going just tell him that Tommy said it’s okay.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later,” you say and head back upstairs.

You hadn’t even thought about facing Michael again but the reassurance of going out with Lizzie later on made you feel better about yourself — you could only hope that Michael wouldn’t instigate anything else.

After walking past Michael’s, now closed, door, you put your purse under the desk and sit down. There was a noticeably large pile of files that you assumed Michael had put there when you had gone downstairs. You felt stupid for running like that; you needed this job for the money and Finn had begged Tommy for it for you and you couldn’t give that up in a heart beat. As long as Michael stayed away, you could endure your work days.

You sat up, determined to do as much work to keep out of Michael’s way as possible and began skimming through the files.

Some were related to money, others were related to the betting shop, not many though. Most of the legal stuff came this way so only a few things concerning the betting shop would come through, you figured, it was mostly affiliations and shares, somehow. Based upon how little there was you assumed that there was more to come.

The easiest way for you to file these would be chronologically, for now, seeing as Michael hadn’t specified how he wanted it organised — plus a lot of it was a couple of years old, you figured it was some of the stuff that Michael had been doing before he went away and began filing.

Halfway through the stack, you heard Michael’s door open, “Oh, you’re back. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”

Turning to face him, you ignore the shock on his face and ask, “How do you want these filed? I can do it chronologically but it’ll be hard if you want to refer back to it if you can’t remember exact dates.”

Michael looks at you, waiting for you to meet his eyes; when you finally do, he says, “however you think is best.”

You nod and continue to file them chronologically. Until it isn’t effective, you’ll change them around; it’ll give you something to do where you can avoid him.

“Why don’t you come —”

“No thank you.”

Michael chuckles, “You didn’t even hear what I was going to say.”

You stayed silent, stood with the file in your hands.

Realising that you weren’t going to give up so easy, he says, “I was going to ask if you wanted to see what I was working on.”

You debate in your head with what to say, you settle on seeing whether or not it’s important, “Will it help me understand some of my work here?”

Michael replies, “Yes,” and turns, he has a wide smile on his face, he probably thought that you hadn’t seen it as he had turned away but you caught a glimpse of it.

You place the file on top of the cabinet and walk towards Michael’s office, wondering what he might show you. You’re wary of the fact that half an hour ago you had tried to walk out of the building and away from him.

Stepping into his office, you notice the change in the aura. Not only was it warmer in here, but somehow Michael had managed to make it seem different; you weren’t sure how, though.

Standing in the corner, Michael is watching you as you’re taking in the room, he gestured towards his much more comfier looking desk chair and said, “take a seat. It’ll help in a moment.”

Carefully, you perch yourself on his chair, wary of him standing behind you.

Your ears perk at the sound of Michael shuffling a few things about in the background, you daren’t turn around to see what he was doing. Just as you’re about to stand from the chair, Michael places a hand on the desk and his other on the back of the chair, leaning down to your ear level, he whispers, “You see out the door?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, suddenly aware of the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

“I can see you sitting at your desk currently, but if you were to move it right in the middle, I wouldn’t be able to.”

Your throat suddenly dries, you say, “It’ll help me reach everything with ease.”

Somehow, he manages to lean even closer to you, his breath tickling your neck, “But I won’t be able to see you,” he lifts his hand from the back of the chair and tucks your hair behind your ear, “you’re beautiful to watch when at work.”

It’s at this point that you notice that your muscles have stopped working correctly and the shiver down your spine somehow rendered you motionless, shocked by Michael's works, despite his wife, he has a clear attraction to you. You weren’t sure whether to be freaked out or flattered.

“But,” you manage to choke out, “It’ll be more efficient if my desk is over there.”

Just at that moment, you hear someone coming up the stairs, before they call out, “Did you still want your desk movin’ or —”

You look up at Michael, asking to call out to Finn with just a look. His hand snakes around your mouth and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that Finn doesn’t find you like this; you’d hate for him to think something was happening.

“She went out to fetch something for me,” Michael calls, standing up from where he was positioned before.

“Well, I’m not sure I can move the desk by myself; I couldn’t find Isaiah.”

“Don’t worry then, Finn.”

“Sure?” His footsteps move closer to the door and Michael moves to the door, to intercept Fin before he reaches you.

“I’m sure,” Michael says, you can hear the tight smile in the way he’s straining his voice, especially now that he’s further away.

You put your hand over your mouth, trying to make yourself as silent as possible.

“Alright, I’ll, uh, go then.”

“See you later.”

And with that, Michael had gotten rid of Finn.

He waits a few seconds, his shadow reaches for his face and rubs it with his hand, “Fuck,” you hear him mumble before he strolls back into his office, where you sat, patiently waiting for him.

“Good girl,” he says.

Your eyes widen at his comment, mortified at yourself and suddenly yearning for the comfort of Finn being there.

You stare at him, pleading for him to explain himself, instead, he walks around the room, your eyes follow him, waiting for his response.

“I’ll move the desk.”

You stay silent for a moment before opening your mouth, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll move the desk,” he simply says and lets you leave.

After that he lets you go back to work. The rest of the day passes without another interruption from Michael apart from the filing he kept giving to you but that was work so you didn’t oppose it. You went down to fetch Lizzie for lunch, a few minutes late, and she says, “Oh, I thought you’d gone out to fetch something for Michael.”

You silently nod, “I did, I slipped past you when you were, uh, working.”

The lie slipped out of your mouth without a bat of an eye and somehow, it worked. 

Lizzie’s face reddened, “Oh, well,” she begins, quickly grabbing her purse, “when the moment strikes, am I right?”

You hadn’t even considered that possibility, and yet, the universe was working in your favour — or maybe it was in Michael’s favour. You weren’t too sure yet; it was too soon to tell.

“Shall we?” Lizzie stands from her desk and walks over to you, slipping her arm through yours and walking out of the building, “does Michael know where you’re going?”

You shake your head, nonchalantly, “No but I’ve done most of the work he’s given me today. I’ll explain when I get back anyway, he can’t deny me a meal, can he?

”You say the last bit in a tone that suggests you weren’t actually sure if he could or not but Lizzie doesn’t pick up on it and laughs at you, “You’re catching on far too quickly; this is perfect.”

tags: @saintd0lce

[metallicwings]

Sunrise | a percabeth fic

“Percy Jackson would wage war against fate itself if it meant he and Annabeth would stay together.”

percabeth | au | fluff, nostalgic | 2.1k 

In which Percy gears up for the big question on a beautiful beach with a beautiful girl at the break of dawn.

“Hey, you okay?” Annabeth pulls her cardigan tighter around her as she sits beside Percy on the porch swing. The sun had yet to rise, and the world was tinged blue. She watches as the waves wash over the rocks near the shore, pulling back ever so gently as the moon fades from the sky.

“Yeah,” He replies, his eyes sparkling as they meet hers. “Wanted to go for a morning stroll.” She rolls her eyes.

“You and I both know you hate early mornings.” She rises and offers him her hand, a little smile on her face. He grins, knowing she was too smart to fall for such a lie. “But okay. Let’s take a walk.”

The sand feels damp under his feet as they set a slow, easy pace. His hand was intertwined with hers like it had been for the last eight years.

“You miss the city yet?” She jokes. It had only been a few days since they went up to Montauk for a much-needed break from work and traveling between San Francisco and New York, and just from life in general, but she knew that while the waves were a familiar and homely sound to Percy, he can’t help but feel like he couldn’t sleep without the buzz of the city as background noise.

“Maybe a little,” he smiles and glances at the horizon, the sky slowly turning pink.

“So do I,” she agrees. “Guess we’re both just city slickers at heart.” He squeezes her hand as they fall into comfortable silence, a rare moment of peace and quiet accompanied only by the lulling sound of the sea.

“It’s warmer out this morning, isn’t it?” Annabeth remarks, splashing in a shallow pool left behind by the tides. She was right. It was the end of winter, but the sea breeze was warmer than it had been for the last few weeks. He chuckles. He knew why.

“What’s so funny?” She nudges his shoulder with her own. “And why are you so spaced out?”

He looks down at her, and really looks at her—her eyes filled with curiosity and lips pursed in worry. He’s known that face for over a decade, memorized every inch. And yet she leaves him breathless every time. She’d only become more beautiful. He gazes at the way the rising sun touches her curls, turning them into gold. He gazes at the way she blinks away the bite of the morning wind, her cheeks pink and flushed. He looks at Annabeth, really looks at her, and knew that he could never love anyone or anything as much as he loved the woman standing before him now. He loves the way she looks at him in admiration when he comes up with something intelligent (it’s really not that rare), and he loves her the same as when she looks at him with annoyance whenever he does or says something un-hero-like in front of the new kids at camp. He loves the little scowl she has on her face when she’s frustrated (often at him), just as he loves the bright smile that he knew was reserved for only him. Looking back at everything they’ve been through together, he knows they’re incredibly lucky to have lived and loved the way they did.

And he knows she loves him too. Everyone did.

“I’ve never seen that girl happier than when she’s around you.” Frederick had told him during one of their afternoon picnics at Central Park, after he was silent for a bit after Percy’s little spiel. They were standing under a big tree—probably bothering a slumbering dryad—several feet away from Annabeth and the boys, who were tossing frisbees with their college friends.

He just stared at his daughter who was working on her laptop, quietly cursing under her breath at the redesigns the gods had asked her to do after a family dinner went wrong at Mount Olympus (again).

“Granted, it was a long time before I saw her actually happy, Percy. My biggest mistake was letting her go. Letting her think I let her down at such a young age. That she wasn’t worthy of a family, or of love. But you…you came into her life and immediately saw her for who she is. And you loved her for it. You’ve taken care of her more times than I have. And for that, Percy Jackson, I am eternally grateful.”

He meets Percy’s eyes, focusing on the boy before him—no, it was a man that stood before Frederick Chase, all grown up now, more battle-hardened than any historical figure he knew. A far cry from the boy he met at Half-Blood Hill.

He broke into a smile and clapped Percy on the shoulder, and Percy was no less than astonished at the tears that brimmed in his usually steely eyes. But he was, after all, a father. He turned his head, lest his daughter sees the emotional exchange he shared with her boyfriend. And of Percy’s request, he finally replied, “Son, I’d love nothing more.”

“Finally”, he remembers his mother saying, rolling her misty eyes before dissolving into a fit of sobs and hugging him tighter than when a forest nymph put him in a chokehold for accidentally breaking one of her branches. She hugged him for a long time, and it was then that Percy really felt the weight of what he was about to do.

“I’m so going to mess up.” he said. Sally placed a hand on either side of her son’s face. His green eyes were troubled. “I might actually throw up.”

“You’re overreacting,” she stated.

“That…really wasn’t what I was expecting you to say, Mom.” Sally laughed, grabbing a tissue from the kitchen counter to dab at her tears. She scanned her son’s face, noting the worry and anxiety that marred it.

“Okay,” she lowered her voice. “Then I have a question for you. Are you really, really sure you want to do this?”

He held her gaze in silence. Was he sure? This was Annabeth Chase. His best friend, most trusted ally. The smartest, bravest girl he’d ever known. It was Annabeth who took a poisoned blade for him out of instinct. It was Annabeth who saved his life more times than he could count. It was Annabeth who showed him a world he never even knew existed, and was right there beside him as he tried to navigate his way through it.

This was Annabeth Chase, the girl he held up the whole damn sky for. He remembered only her when he could not remember literally anything else from his own life. He gave up power and immortality for a chance to be with her. He would go through Tartarus and back for Annabeth Chase. He did. And he would do it over and over and over again.

Annabeth Chase comes once in a lifetime. And he was never, ever letting her go.

So was he sure? He had never been more sure of anything in his life.

His mother knew that very well. “You two—Fates or otherwise—you’re meant to be together, you know that, right?“ He had almost exploded like a Greek fire talking to his mom. And he was about to do the same right now and ruin everything if he doesn’t pull himself together.

“Percy,” Percy jolts himself back to the present, shaking himself from memory. Annabeth puts a hand to his face, her thumb gently caressing his cheek. “I lost you for a moment there. What’s up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You and me…everything we’ve been through together.” His throat feels like sandpaper. He was seconds away from crying or screaming out of nerves, and he really didn’t want to just start yelling gibberish at Annabeth.

“We have been through our fair share of adventures, haven’t we? Many of them misadventures, but I digress,” she teases. “We’re here, together, that’s all that matters.”

“You’re right,” he steels himself. If he doesn’t do this now, he’ll miss his own planned timing: doing it during a romantic sunrise on the beach. The sun was halfway up the horizon, slow to rise. It seemed to be waiting for him to find the words. “Together.”

Percy takes a deep breath and takes both of her hands in his. “Annabeth Chase.”

She furrows her brows in confusion. “Yes?”

Like a chump, he doesn’t say anything else for several seconds. He merely stands there, staring blankly at her. Annabeth rolls her eyes at him. She’s going to have to take over.

“What’s taking you so long, Seaweed Brain? Just ask.” She teases, and Percy’s heart comes to a full stop. There’s a glint in her eye. He can’t help but burst into laughter, throwing his head back as Annabeth watches with an amused smile.

“You never make it easy for me, do you?” He echoes the words she said to him on his sixteenth birthday.

“Never,” she says softly. Finally, finally, Percy starts talking.

“Annabeth, at twelve, I didn’t think I knew what falling in love really meant. I didn’t think that love would be a priority as a half-blood, but meeting you showed me exactly what it meant. You opened up this entirely new world to me and showed me love through friendship, through trust, through being there for each other no matter what. I’ve fallen in love with you so quickly, so dangerously, that for a time I didn’t think I could take it.” Her eyes were slowly filling with tears, attention solely on the boy before her.

“This life, our life—it’s reckless, it’s chaotic. Every day is a bigger challenge than the one before. But it’s ours. I know that as long as we’re together, we can do anything. You and me together is the only thing that makes sense when nothing else does. I promised never to let you go, and I intend on keeping that promise as long as I live. You are my best friend, the girl I’d want by my side in every battle, the girl I’ve fallen in love with over and over and over again, and I want to go on so many more adventures with you. In this life, Annabeth Chase, you are my order in the chaos.”

He renders her speechless, tears streaming down her face. Percy doesn’t take his eyes away from her as he gets down on one knee and digs in his pocket for a clam-shaped enamel box laden with jewels. Relieved he didn’t drop it anywhere, he holds it open to a crying Annabeth, revealing a beautiful silver ring with a braided band and a single sparkling diamond resting on a blue velvet cushion.

“So, Wise Girl,” he says slowly. “Will you marry me?”

Annabeth lets out a sob. “Yes,” she nods furiously. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Really?” He jumps to his feet, heart thundering in his chest. He almost couldn’t believe it. She said yes. He didn’t know whether to freeze for an ungodly amount of time or to start running around the beach in elation. However, instead, with his trembling hands, he places the ring onto on her finger. A perfect fit.

When he looks back up, she’s there. Brilliant. Golden. Beautiful. She kisses him, and the world melts away into nothingness. All that’s left are Percy, Annabeth, and the promise of a new day. Just the way it should be.

“Did he tell you about this?” Poseidon asks. He chuckles at the scene before him.

“As a matter of fact, he has mentioned it in several mumbled prayers.” Athena watches as her daughter wraps Percy in a bone-crushing hug. Standing side by side atop a cliff, Poseidon catches the war goddess break into a small, affectionate smile. “The boy would know better than to tell you and not me.”

“Funny that you speak of ‘telling’ instead of ‘asking for your permission’,” he jokes, knowing Athena was protective of her children, especially when they were involved with a child of his. Her eyes flash dangerously as she glances at him, but the ghost of a smile on her face remains.

“You and I are both aware that no forces, godly or otherwise, would dare hinder those two from being together.”

“My,” he strokes his beard. “You really are the wisest of us all.” She rolls her eyes and disappears in a flash of light, choosing to ignore his immature little jabs.

Poseidon sighs in content, sending a wave towards the two locked in an embrace and knocking them off their feet. He grins as they topple onto the sand, laughing all the while. Immortality has given him his fair share of cynicism and a disdain for the temporal, but he couldn’t help but be happy for his son. Forever is a strong word, but he knows that they’ll last. Their love was stronger than fate itself.

He taps his trident on the ground twice and disappears before they spot him, leaving behind a swirl of sand and the salty scent of the sea.