#I'll probably have more thoughts tomorrow

[lis-likes-fics]

Compromising Positions

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!Reader Word Count: 5.2k words Prompt: Mutual Masturbation Warnings: NSFW, smut, caught masturbating, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjobs, mentions of ovulation, swearing... A/N: I'm doing this with nails on. I have already crashed out three times. If anything is wrong, that is why. No beta, we die like Hayley. Thank you and enjoy.

You really shouldn't be doing this.

For one, you just finished a case. The details were still fresh in your mind, morbid and murky. You should be disgusted by even the notion of doing something like this so close to these murders that you've been chasing with your team.

And if that didn't stop you, the fact that you had to share a room with your (hot) boss should have. You could at least have the decency not to masturbate in a bed that you'll be sharing with another person—especially your boss.

But he was out getting food for the team, and the case was poorly timed to take place right as you started ovulating. You had a lot of self-control, but you can only take so much.

Ideally, you should wait until tomorrow when you would all return to Virginia to lay in your own beds for the night. But the thought of waiting one more night before relieving all of the stress and tension in your body makes you want to cry.

You figured you could be quick. How hard could it be to cum one time before Hotch came back, especially when you're this wound up already?

Unfortunately, Hotch isn't a person who takes his time.

You don't hear the card swiping outside the door, or the lock unclicking to allow him entry. You realize he's there far too late, pulling your head up from its place against the headboard and snatching your hand from between your legs with a gasp.

You quickly grab the covers, pulling them over your lower half to cover yourself up as you see Hotch standing in the doorway. This is probably the first time you've ever seen this man actually fazed—even if it is simply widened eyes and pink tinted cheeks.

“Oh, my God,” you gasp, feeling heat on every surface of your body and sinking into the bone.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly, plastic bag rustling on his arm as he swiftly goes to close the door once more. “My apologies. I'll—let you finish.”

“No, no, no!” You say quickly, burying your face in your hands to try to hide yourself from him as much as possible. “No, I'm done. I'm sorry. That was so bad.”

“No, it's not,” he scrambles to reassure you from the door, his body blocking anyone from peering in and seeing you in such a compromising state. “I understand. Do what you need to do.”

You move as much as you can with your body still shielded, grabbing your sweatpants to pull them over your body again. “No, really. It's fine, I'm done.”

You stand with your back to him, face still in your hands. The shame sinks even deeper when your fingers still smell like your arousal. You hear the door close behind him, the rustle of the bag against a desk telling you that he decided to stay, after all.

You swallow thickly, trying to shove down the humiliation (and a whisper of more arousal that's making you want to scream) to no avail.

“I'm sorry, Hotch,” you say, your back still facing him. Your voice is softer, but still chalkful of the shame eating away at you. “That was so unprofessional and—God, this is embarrassing.” You mumble the last part to yourself.

“It's not,” he tries to assure you once more. “Really, I understand. You don't have to feel embarrassed, at all.”

You can't bring yourself to face him, but you slowly turn your body halfway toward him to bridge the gap. He's standing across the room, the both of you separated by the bed.

“Easier said than done.”

Any time you imagined him, you imagined it in a very different way. You thought of him walking in to find you like that, but it was usually followed up by him climbing on top of you and taking the job over himself. Or maybe he's suddenly pushing you up against a wall in a hungry kiss, his knee between your thighs, his hand achingly close to your throat–

This is doing nothing for your horniness.

You half-excuse yourself, slipping into the small bathroom to splash some cold water on your face in an effort to calm you. When that doesn't work, you give up and wash the hell out of your hands to try and get the smell out.

Over the next hour, the two of you hardly say anything. You eat in relative silence, he takes his shower, and then you both try to find sleep. Which is also easier said than done.

You lay on your side, wide awake, trying not to press your thighs together as the ache grows and grows. You need a release. You need it so bad, you feel like it's going to eat you up.

“Are you…still awake?”

You swallow thickly, debating whether or not you should just say no. But he'll know if you're lying, just like you'd probably know if he was (he's a better liar than you).

“Yeah.” You keep replaying your little incident in your head, over and over and over again. It's maddening in more ways than one, which is only making it more maddening.

“Do you…” he hesitates. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Not necessarily. You think if you talk about it with him, you'll only make your own situation worse, and you'll have to be removed from the unit for indecency or, God forbid, sexual harassment.

But you really don't want to sit in uncomfortable silence, and maybe talking about it to absolutely ensure that there is no issue might help.

“Sure.”

You both slowly sit up. He turns on the bedside lamp. You sort of just…sit there in more silence as you wait for someone to speak.

“I want to start by reiterating…” he says slowly, “that you do not have to feel embarrassed in any way. Really, I understand.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. You have to clear your throat, but it doesn't make you any bolder, or any louder for that matter. “Still, I'm…I'm sorry for this. I thought I could…” you fill your lungs with air, “be quick.”

He reaches over gently to place a hand on your knee. Every instinct is telling you to move his hand from you, as the warmth of his palm is going straight to your head and making you embarrassingly dizzy, but you don't. Because it's warm and it feels nice.

You try to find your voice, looking down at your own hands instead of at his or his face. “You know I'm not usually like this.”

“I know.”

“I just…” You take a breath. “This case was very poorly timed, and… and I'm ovulating. Otherwise I wouldn't be such a horn dog. It really is an accident. I'd never want to make you or anyone else feel uncomfortable and–”

He says your name gently. You were rambling. You nod gently in understanding, trying to pull a shy grin over your lips in an attempt to ease the heat in your face from trying to explain yourself.

“I feel the only way to ease your nerves about being in such a…compromising position, would be to compromise myself in return.” His voice is calm, as gentle and as natural as it would be if you were talking about your weekend or how great the weather has been.

“You don't have to,” you say, though your voice is a whisper. The thought of learning something him compromising about him is making it hard to think straight.

“It's alright.” He takes his own breath, and as you finally glance up at him to see his face. For the first time, you spot a hint of disheveled nerves on him—hair slightly tosseled, cheeks still lightly dusted in a gentle pink hue. It is doing nothing to help you.

“I hope I don't make you uncomfortable by admitting to this,” he speaks very quietly, as if consoling you, “but I…enjoyed seeing you before.”

If you weren't hot before, you are not. Not just hot—you're burning. Something in swirling in your gut, and your criss-crossed position provides no pressure where you need it. What's worse, if he looks at you for even a moment, you know for certain that he would be able to read it all on your face in just a single moment.

“You…” you clear your throat like the words got caught. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods lightly. “To be quite honest with you, I have found myself developing certain feelings for you over the last few months.”

You feel like you've been shot in the heart, a shock that makes it stop beating for a few moments before pumping so quickly, it feels like it's trying to keep it going before you collapse.

“Really?” You hate how pathetic you sound. “Like…actually? You're not just trying to flatter me to make me feel better?”

He laughs gently, finally looking at you once more. Fuck, you need him so badly right now, and it's eating you alive.

“No, I'm not.” His hand squeezes gently, but never in any kind of imposing way. He's very kind and comforting. Either way, you try not to squirm. “You're an excellent agent, an even better person… YourYou're beautiful, smart, kind. There's a lot to fall for.”

His tone is analytical, as if it's the only way he'll be able to get the words out. If he pretends he profiling, maybe it won't be so difficult to admit something less logical, so emotional.

“Well,” you hum. “That’s…honestly a relief because I've had eyes for you since the beginning… Which I feel like I should not have said.”

You go to shield your face again, but he lifts his hands to your wrists, touching you so gently. “Don't hide,” he nearly whispers. “I did just tell you you're beautiful, didn't I? I want to see your face.”

You're hanging on by a thread. His thumbs are stroking soothing circles into your pulse points, your ears are thrumming with the beating of your heart. You think if you don't have him one you right now, you'll literally and truly die.

“Can I kiss you?”

Aaron doesn't answer you. Instead, he's catching your lips in his with a fervor that has you moaning into his mouth. Your hands come to his neck, their warmth sinking into his skin as you cradle him. You push up onto your knees, so eager to feel him everywhere.

“Aaron,” you whimper. You're brimming with need.

The sound of his name on your tongue makes him grab at your hips, more rough than he had intended as he pulls you flush against his body. You sigh into his mouth, melting against him as he pulls you close.

“I know,” he mumbles as you paw at each other like horny teenagers. He's becoming painfully hard in his pants, dipping his head in the crook of your neck to lick and suck and nibble at your skin. He's being so careful not to leave any marks for the team to suspect in the morning, but it becomes increasingly difficult the more you grasp one another.

“I need you.” The words fall before you can even think them up. “Please. Need you so bad. Please.” You had not intended to become such a mess so quickly. All he's done is kiss you, trail his hands along your back and sides, and you're melting against him and begging for him to touch you.

“We can't,” he breathes regretfully, though he keeps kissing you.

You pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes now shining with a hint of apprehension at the prospect of rejection after such a confession. “Why not?”

He's quick to assure you, one hand under your chin and the other at the small of your back. “I want to. Trust me, I want to.” He's catching his breath, lips pink from kissing you so much. He kisses you again just to seal his words. “But I don't have a condom. And if you're ovulating, then it's probably not a good idea for us to…”

You nod quickly. “Yeah. Yes, you're right.”

He pulls you into another kiss before you can try to pull back and second guess yourself. You sink into it easily, letting him lay you down against the mattress. He pulls gently at the hem of your shirt, muttering against your lips. “Can I take this off?”

Your nod is emphatic. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He smiles at your lips, embracing you for the hundredth time, only pulling away to pull your shirt over your head. Your mouths are hungry things searching for each other, begging and yearning for the other like they've been kept apart for far too long.

His hand immediately comes up to cup your breast. Though it starts off as a gentle touch, he's quickly groping you with eager, greedy hands as he palms and kneads and soaks up the sound of your pants and moans.

It's hard to think when he touches you like this. You've dreamt of this so many times that you wouldn't know where to begin if he wasn't kissing you so feverishly.

You take his shirt off next, too intent on seeing him, feeling him. He helps you remove it and toss it haphazardly across the room. You lay your hands flat at his sides. His abs are not defined, but they're firm and they're warm, not quite a “dad bod” but close enough to make you drool. (You were drooling anyway.) His skin is soft and smooth, and you quickly get greedy in feeling him.

His finger hooks around the waistband of your sweatpants. He places kisses to your neck and collarbone, sucking bruises at the top of your breasts where they can be hidden but he'll always know are there. “Can I take these off?” he asks again, a little more tentative.

You look him in the eyes, feeling incredibly hot and incredibly needy. “Yeah, please.”

He smiles at you, keeping eye contact as he slowly brings them down your thighs, your legs, off your ankles. When he takes in the sight of you, it's with silent breath and darkened eyes.

You hear him curse under his breath, and if your mind wasn't so foggy with desire, you'd be shocked—maybe even tease him over it. “You're so beautiful,” he says, one hand stroking your side soothingly. “All of you. You're perfect.”

You don't know how to answer him. He's bleeding with sincerity. You give your gratitude in the form of another hungry kiss, cupping his face and scratching at a barely-there stubble with your nails.

“I wanna see you,” you mutter into his mouth. You can vaguely feel the smallest outline of him when he brushes up against your thigh. But it's not enough. You want a full view, full access to him. “Please, can I see you?”

He's already yanking down his sweatpants with far less care than he had shown you. You look between your bodies with a sigh. He's thick, his tip already leaking at how evidently needy he is for you. You stare for longer than you should, clenching around nothing as your fingers itch to touch it.

“Can I…?” Your voice is quiet, a shy request.

Aaron gives a bashful chuckle. “I'm afraid it'll end too soon if you do…” This pulls a smile from you, which spreads his own grin out wide. “Yes.”

You chew on your bottom lip, reaching a hand out to run your knuckles along the bottom of it. It kicks up at your touch, pulling a hiss from between his teeth. You stifle your grin, apologizing briefly as he reassures you that he's fine.

He's very warm, with a texture like velvet. You drag your fingers slowly—unintentionally teasing him—along his length.

You watch his face contort, squeezing in concentration and what looks like pain. His cheeks are flushed, his teeth bared slightly. He reaches out a hand, grabbing yours without cruelty to stop your teasing strokes. “Okay, okay.” He catches his breath. “I'm sorry, I just… I need a minute.”

“S’okay,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him, an effort to ease him. He smiles into your lips and eases onto one elbow. He's crowding your lower half, so close that his body heat is becoming your own. You don't mind. It's a comfort you would be content to live in as he boxes you in with his body, leaning on you considerately as his thumb continues to stroke your side.

When you pull away with a gentle smack, he hums as he stares up at you. His eyes are dark and intense, and you struggle to hold his gaze as you shy away with a shallow giggle.

He encourages your face back with his knuckle beneath your chin. “Show me how you do it.”

You're taken off guard by his request. Your brows furrow slightly as you cup his face. “How I do what?” He stares a moment longer, and your eyes widen a bit. “Touch myself?”

He smiles, and your breath is taken away. Aaron Hotchner is not a man who smiles often, especially like this. He smiles at you with teeth, pearly whites that light up his whole face and make him ten times more handsome (you hadn't even known that was possible).

“You want to see me touch myself?” you confirm, sounding more hesitant than you feel. His eyes droop lightly as you continue to scratch his light stubble. He hums his response, a gentle nod.

“If you don't want to, I'm not going to make you,” he assures, ever the gentleman. “I never want to make you uncomfortable in any way. I just want to admire you. All of you.”

“I want to,” you say too quickly. You want to show him everything. He's the kind of person who would sleep out in the hallway if it made you feel more comfortable, but you would rather spend the night in the closet than have him be cold and alone out there. He's so kind and so gentle and so handsome, that showing him something like this isn't anything you're opposed to in any way. “I just…have never done anything like that before.”

“That’s fine,” he coos. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your belly with a warm sigh. Your breath shudders as you run your fingers through his hair. “I'll do it with you, so it isn't awkward.”

You nod slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mhm.”

He kisses you lightly, his lips curled in an elated grin. “Lay back, sweet girl.”

You do as you're told, though his voice is anything but commanding. There's nothing assertive about it. It's a simple request born out of a kind of adoration that makes you warm from the inside out.

You lay against the headboard of the bed, missing his warmth when he moves off of you to sit by your side. Your shoulders brush one another as he sits close, gazing at you and assessing every feature on your face. To make sure you're okay.

You smile up at him, trying not to hide yourself away as you keep your legs uncrossed. He sets a hand on your knee, slowly encouraging it farther apart with enough gentleness to give you full power to refuse. You let him move it without quarrel, watching his face as he watches yours.

His legs spread as well, and he pulls one of yours to rest over one of his, keeping you effectively open. He stares at you, your pussy slick with your arousal, and sighs deeply. He's hard, his cock resting against his lower belly where a string of precum connects him to it.

Aaron takes his cock in his hand, squeezes the base with a grunt. You feel his leg twitch lightly beneath your own as you watch him, the way he strokes himself so slowly. You chew on your lip, watching with lidded eyes as your arousal stirs in your belly.

Slowly, you bring your hand to rest on your inner thigh. Your fingers tremble slightly, nerves and shyness, as you bring them closer to where you need to be touched.

You stifle a moan when you press the pad of your finger to your clit. Aaron's eyes watch you closely, admiring the way your fingers move as you tease yourself with shy hands.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. He watches you glide your fingers through your folds, wet with an embarrassing amount of arousal. “Show me how you do it.”

You slowly dip a finger inside of you, letting out the smallest sound as you push it in as far as you can reach. It's not nearly as far as you need it as you let your head lean against his shoulder.

He smiles, his hand becoming a little more insistent as he watches you bury your finger inside of yourself. Your eyes are locked on one another, mesmerized by the sight of the other's pleasure.

“Good, good girl,” he hums, flicking his wrist as he grasps the head of his cock. You add a second finger, curling it inside of you. It feels good, being able to touch yourself and relieve the ache that's been weighing on you all day, especially under his gaze that seems far more appreciative than it should be. “You're so pretty, honey. So pretty.”

He kisses your temple, raising his free hand to tilt your chin up for another kiss. You indulge him happily, humming into his mouth and letting your fingers brush against that sponge spot inside of you that makes you moan.

You roll your hips forward, feeling your need tightening in the pit of your stomach. “Aaron,” you whisper. “Fuck, I need more.” He squeezes his cock absently, your words ending shivers down his spine. “Need you to touch me. Please.”

His breath shudders. “You want my fingers inside of you, is that it?”

You stifle a moan, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Yes, please.” You lean further into him, your head in the crook of his neck. “Mine aren't big enough. I need you.”

He's a goner. Aaron reaches over, stroking your thigh with a large, warm hand and kneading the flesh thoughtfully. You let your lips part, your breaths a little heavier. His hand covers yours, pressing his fingers into your knuckles to push them farther inside of you. You whisper a curse, turning your face into his shoulder.

He slowly pulls your fingers out of you, leans in to kiss you in a way that's almost greedy. His hand squeezes your upper thigh gently before dipping between them. You open your legs wider to give him more space to move, sighing into his lips when you feel his fingers rubbing against you.

He spreads your lips apart, strokes his finger through them and consumes any whimpers you let slip. When the pad of his finger brushes against your clit, your hips jerk lightly, and you feel his lips curling against your own.

“I'm going to put them inside now,” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod, overwhelmed with desire. “Okay.”

He kisses you again just as he presses one finger inside of you. You hum into his mouth, raising a hand to rest against his chest. His finger reaches much deeper than your own, offers more girth for you to squeeze around as he slips in and out slowly, your slick allowing for easy movement.

“Fuck, Aaron,” you whisper. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” he grins gently, kissing you one more. You nod, your sounds worsening when you feel a second finger prodding at you. When he slips it inside, your lips go slack against his. “How about that?”

“Oh, God,” you breathe. You try not to squirm against him, clenching as he thrusts them too slowly, in and out of you with a rhythm made to drive you crazy. You feel like you'll stop breathing as the pleasure swarms in your brain.

When he curls his fingers inside of you, you have to hold back the moan threatening to slip past. He watches you, enamored by the look on your face, desire and pleasure written in every crease.

“How is that, honey?”

“Good.” As his pace slowly builds, thrusting and curling until you can't keep up, you have to purse your lips to keep from crying out. Aaron is a gentle man, as he'd been a gentle lover, but the way he fingers you is making it hard to think straight. “Fuck, so good. Please don't stop.”

His breath has picked up just listening to yours. Your soft moans are making it very hard to calm himself as his cock twitches against his belly. He kisses your neck, your shoulder, showering you in affection as he continues to touch you like it's his life's mission.

You can't help yourself from riding his hand. Arousal is leaking out of you, and part of you feels guilty as you feel it beginning to wet the sheets beneath you.

You reach blindly for Aaron, your breath heavy and your skin hot. He hisses when your fingers wrap around his cock, and you whine at the size of him. You wish it was inside of you so badly—you know it would feel so good to have him stretching you out.

You stroke him, too dizzy with pleasure to tease or go slow as you drag your fist up and down the length of him. “God, you feel so good,” you breathe into the crook of his neck.

He chuckles, though the sound is more breath than laugh. “I should be telling you that.” You mimic his sound.

You squeeze him, perhaps too much because one of his hands comes to slow your pace with a grunt he's trying so hard not to let out in full sound. “You've got to slow down, honey, or this will be over far too soon.”

You smile, the knowledge that you're riling him up so much going straight to your head. Your reply is a kiss to his neck, which quickly becomes two kisses, which becomes three and so on. He sighs with each kiss, fingering you still with as much fervor as you'd shown before.

You moan out his name, brimming with want. Your pace is steady on him, not as fast as before but just as stimulating as you peek up at his face, concentration deep in his features. When you flick your wrist, he grunts and pulls his fingers out of you, though he never stops touching you.

You whine at the loss, feeling him sliding your arousal all over your pussy as you bite down at your lower lip. “Please don't stop,” you murmur, your voice almost weak with how badly you need him.

He just shushes you gently, smiling once again at the surprised moan that comes out of you as he starts rubbing at your clit. You bury your face in the crook of his neck again, inhaling his scent and trying to stifle your moans as your pace kicks up on his cock.

“You're so messy, sweet girl,” he coos. His claim is supported by the lewd sounds coming from between your legs as his fingers rub quickly over your eager clit. Your hips cant up into his hand, his words sending intense shivers bolting up your spine. “And your thighs are shaking so much.”

Your fingers squeeze around him, precum dribbling over the top of them and making it easier to tug at his cock. His teeth clench as he feels himself growing more and more breathless.

“Fuck,” you gasp lightly. “I'm gonna cum, Aaron.” His calloused fingers catch your clit in a way that has a shocked mewl pulling out of you. “Please, Aaron, don't stop.”

He doesn't, not even for a moment. He seems more eager for you to cum than even you. You ride his hand, your face buried in the crook of his neck. Your moans are building as you struggle to keep quiet.

“Good. Good girl, c’mon. Cum for me, sweet girl.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

And just like that, you're falling off the edge as the pleasure blossoms inside of you. You squeeze your fist around his cock, tugging a couple more times before he's spilling out over your hand and his tummy with a barely stifled moan.

You both shudder, his hand still working you through your orgasm as your brain goes fuzzy and your limbs fill with bliss. Your moan of his name is pressed into his skin in an attempt to stay relatively quiet. A noise complaint is the last thing you both need right now, along with the rest of the team finding out about this before any of it is concrete yet.

When the pleasure has faded and he pulls his hand away, you fill your lungs with air and feel yourself going limp as you rest all of your weight on him. He takes it welcomingly. His hand still rubs along your inner thighs, soothing you with gentle shushes, still sounding quite breathless himself.

“You did so good for me, honey.” He turns your face to kiss you, making you moan into his mouth as his hand slips between your thighs to glide between your soaked pussy. He grunts at how wet you are, licking into your mouth and securing his arm around you as you melt against him.

He leans over you, and you smile at his warmth. You raise a hand gently to his face, the hand not sticky with his cum, and hum into his mouth.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips. “I needed that so bad.”

His response is a light chuckle, tender with affection and post-orgasmic exhaustion. “I'm happy to help,” he says. “And if you need any more in the future, I'm here.”

Your stomach flips a little at his words, the prospect of the future seeming quite exciting to you now.

Aaron sits up slowly, a sigh dragging out of him as he stands to move in the direction of the bathroom. He fetches a wet towelette to clean you up with, his movements so gentle and kind as he wipes away all the arousal. He takes your hands in his large ones, wiping his own release away with a tenderness that melts your heart.

He cleans himself hastily in order to join you in bed. He lays back, pulling you close to lay your head on his chest. You sigh longingly, stroking his chest and holding him close. You still feel a little eager, but it has been toned down considerably.

He smells good, like the cologne you'd gifted him on his birthday, and something else you can't quite place. Something uniquely him.

“You smell nice,” you hum.

He laughs, a rumbling in his chest that makes you smile. “Thank you,” he says. “You smell wonderful.”

You turn your head to kiss his chest, letting sleep tug at you. Aaron's hand rubs gently at your back. “Go to sleep, honey.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and holds you close.

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[14dyh]

Clueless | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x reader Summary: Your research partner, Hange, is clueless about romance. Or so you thought. Content: just fluffy research partners trope A/N: i survived college hell week so here you go. HVD HANGE LOVERS!!

"I didn't know you could walk slower," you remarked as Hange strode beside you. 

Early training was exhausting, coupled with the paperwork you have to handle after. Just thinking about it drains your energy.

Your ever-energetic Section Commander only beamed at you and responded, "Well, I have to match your pace more often now."

"Why is that?"

"Since we became research partners?"

Your head racked in confusion, gaze snapping back to them.

"Research partners? Since when?"

"I knew you still haven't read Erwin's notice," they said matter-of-factly, pulling a folded sheet of paper from their uniform. "He thinks your works are impressive and said we should work together on a new trapping device."

"That... sounds exhausting..." 

"Right! Exciting, isn't it?" Hange smiled, too deep in their excitement that they misheard you. You can never keep up with that amount of enthusiasm, try as you might. 

After pulling an all-nighter last night to organize files, your commander now wants to transfer you to the thinking team. Great. 

"When are we going to start?" you asked Hange. 

-

It turns out that working closely with Hange would present unexpected issues. You have no problem with Hange or the work itself as being with them brightens your day more than you cared to admit. Sometimes you wonder why they're so good at making you smile and laugh even at the face of mathematical formulas and complex design structures but that's a question for another day. Your real musings lie on the question of why they're so clueless about people hitting on them. Surely, the box of chocolates left on their desk with hearts scribbled all over it or the cadets swooning over them when they passed by the corridor weren't just people being friendly as Hange always liked to think. 

This present issue became more clear when Valentine's Day arrived. To think that your lot makes time to celebrate this event is amusing. You were with Hange the whole time that day, brainstorming and sleepless that you almost forgot about the day of love happening just outside your doors. 

"What if we try it? You know, outside?" Hange offered, sipping on their fifth mug of coffee. "See if it works?"

"Hange, it's a long-range weapon. And there are people outside," you muttered sleepily, yawning as you walked towards the window to allow some sunlight in. You drew the curtains and looked down. "People celebrating apparently."

"For what?" Hange asked absentmindedly, busy scribbling down a few ideas that you probably have to illustrate later. 

"Dunno," you yawned again, drawing the blinds back. "I'm sleeping. You can't stop me."

"Go ahead," they said, thumb pointing at the bed. "I'll wake you up later."

-

When Hange woke you up about an hour later, you hid under their pillows and bargained for another five minutes of sleep. 

"No, silly, we're not going to work. I brought something," their voice came, lifting the pillows you're hiding on. 

Their brown eyes beamed at you, holding up something as your vision cleared. 

Chocolate? 

No, not just that. They've got an armful of it. 

"Where on earth did you get all of that?"

"Outside the door," they muttered, opening one to munch on it. They offered you one. "Surprising, huh?" 

"Well, it's Valentine's Day." You only remembered about a minute ago. 

"It is?" Their eyes widened momentarily. "I thought it's tomorrow."

You laughed softly, taking a chocolate from their hand. "We've been staring at plans all week, we didn't know."

"About time," they spoke, sitting on the spot next to you. Their eyes met yours and for a moment, you were tempted to look away as if gazing any longer will melt you in a puddle. It's not helping that they seemed to enjoy looking at you more than anything else recently. "Let's have dinner. There's a new dinner just outside the quarters."

"Did, uh, did we miss dinner downstairs?" 

"Yeah... I forgot about it." A sheepish grin crossed their face. "Doesn't matter, though. It's only 9 PM."

-

It turns out that diners were occupied that day, couples swarmed the place as the buttery scent of baked goods wafted in the air. After the long queue, you managed to take back four sandwiches which you ate in your shared room. 

Hange sat on the bed next to you, scribbling equations, crossing them out, and starting over again. It was adorable how their brows crease when they think.

"Hange?"

"Hm?"

"Shouldn't you sleep?"

They smiled, "Later."

"Happy Valentine's Day," you mumbled sleepily, curling up next to them.

"You too." Hange's gaze lingered on your sleeping form, thinking of the reservation for two they booked yesterday.

They stayed up late that night, writing down equations, and dimming the lamp to allow you some sleep. They were asleep until afternoon slumped over their papers which you diligently put away when you woke up that morning. You only understood half of what was written, guided by Hange's short annotations on the page. It warmed your insides, knowing that Hange wrote these equations for your designs. The invention you're both working on felt more feasible and easier to envision.

- 

"It's working well, Commander," you reported to Erwin later that day when he asked about the device's progress.

"It must have been, huh? Hange knows how to gather a great team," he smiled amicably. "They specifically requested for you."

Your cheeks heated up, smiling warmly even on your way out of Erwin's office.

Hange was waiting in the corridor, notebook discarded and eyes lighting up when they saw you. They half-run in your direction, energetic and beaming as always as though they had enough sleep.

"Ready to go?" They asked, walking beside you.

"Where?"

That same charming smile you always notice creased their cheeks.

"Maybe the diner has a seat for two this time."

[iguessitsjustme]

Day saying yes to having his picture taken was so important. There is now proof out there that he is still a part of the world. There is proof out there that he is still a part of the badminton world, which was his own special world, in that fan's phone.

Then Day asks Mhok to take a picture of him with the trophies. Little by little Day is entering the world again. He's allowing himself to be part of the world and to be seen in it even if he can't see it for himself.

[destinationtoast]

This was my watch party for the finale. 💖

[kyndahot]

CONTINUING THIS! this.. is so much longer than I intended it to be LMFAOOO *throws this at you like bird seed*. ALSO something about us - daft punk is their song. I do make the rules now. Seer Obscura's text is in purple for clarity's sake-- I'm not confident enough in my writing or grammatical ability to trust their dialogue is legible otherwise LOL I could get away with it more confidently in shorter posts seer obscura can cook morgan has a cat & a green thumb

So Morgan offered them his bedroom to sleep in while he was away but he isn’t very confident that they actually take him up on the offer from their very hesitant “I’ll decide later.”

He didn’t push it past that— if they were uncomfortable with it then his couch could make a decent pull out and he had some extra bedding in the hallway closet to make it a better place to sleep.

It’s really late into the night when he arrives back home, Seer Obscura texted him earlier in the day that they’d be heading out after they fix up the apartment.

“I can take care of it myself, friend. Just take care of Sage’s food and water bowls and head out.”

“Morgan, it’s fine. I wouldn’t feel comfortable if I didn’t leave it sparkling.”

He lets out a tired, breathy laugh. “Fine, if it helps you sleep at night.”

“You know it will.” ⸙⸙⸙ Unfortunately, he receives news at the airport that his flight would be delayed by a number of hours. He calls Seer Obscura to let them know. "Feel free to just head on out anyway. I'll probably hole up in the closest hotel when I land and get home tomorrow. Sage is good about eating only when she's hungry so just give her a tiny bit more food than usual and she'll be fine until I arrive." "No problem, get home safe, Morgan. And let me know when you land, alright?" "Of course, have a good rest of your day." ⸙⸙⸙

Its deathly quiet when Morgan enters the apartment. With a sigh, he just drops his bags unceremoniously at the door, peeling off his blazer and tossing it on the couch as he passes by. He opted out of the hotel room, he was plenty homesick as it was and he'd survive a few hours of missed sleep if he could see his cat and cozy apartment again. Dragging his feet lazily down the hallway, he stops to graze his hands across the leaves of his split leaf monstera. It warms his heart to see that all of his plants seem to be as lively as ever in his absence--he wasn't ever worried that they would decline under Seer Obscura's care. if he didn't give them better instructions he was sure they would throw themselves head first into research on plant care. A yawn escapes him as he shuffles down the hallway, wayyy too tired to bother getting ready for bed— he had every intention of just belly flopping into bed in his work clothes. That is, until he opens the door and makes out a human shaped mass under his covers. Sage, his ever so doted on russian blue, immediately gets up from her curled up position by Seer Obscura's frame and stretches before hopping off the bed and running her silver-furred body against his calves. Morgan wasn't very careful about how loudly he swung the door open so it doesn't take long before Seer Obscura stirs, lazily dragging their upper-half to sit up. "Morgan? I thought you would be arriving tomorrow?" It takes him a second to come to his senses before responding. "I didn't think you'd still be here." Rubbing their eyes, they let out a small hum. "Well, I did finish cleaning up relatively early but I decided to--" they pause for a beat before continuing. "Hm... you'll see it in the morning, I'm sure. Point is, I was going to stay behind to keep watch until early tomorrow morning." Without thinking, he finds himself moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "Keeping secrets from me? That's more cryptic than I'm used to you being--nowadays, anyway." He can barely make out the small tired laugh Seer Obscura lets out, "Yeah, well, it's taking a lot of effort to not spoil the surprise. Oh, let me move to the couch--" Morgan places a light hand on their shoulder to stop them, "Hey, hey, you're good where you are. I'll take the couch tonight." "Morgan, it's your bed. It got plenty of use from me while you were away." He feels himself grin at the thought. "Really? I'm glad to hear it-- but still. You're fine where you are." Seer Obscura grumbles before scooting to the other side of the bed and slapping the side now unoccupied. "Then we're sharing the bed." Morgan coughs on his own spit at their suggestion. There is no hesitance in their voice, just unwavering nonchalance at the idea. "I-Im sorry?" "If I'm to stay here then you're staying with me. We're adults, I can trust you to behave if we share a bed. And well, I doubt you take me for the type to get handsy." The man laughs, "Uhh, I guess? If you don't mind at all? Do you want me to like... sleep with my head on the other end of the bed? Or we can put a pillow between us--" Groaning, Seer Obscura flops back down and turns their back to him. "You're ridiculous. Sleep how you like, Morgan, but decide quickly before I sleep on the floor to spite you."

"Ouch! Fine, okay. Goodnight, friend." "Goodnight, Morgan." ⸙⸙⸙ The two go to sleep knowing that someone occupies the space next to them, so there isn't much tossing or turning from either of them. Still, its a comfortable rest. Seer Obscura is the first to wake, eyes fluttering open to find they've turned to face Morgan at some point in the night. His expression is soft, the light weaving its way through the thin curtains bathe his skin in a soft glow. They're glad to see him rest so soundly after what sounded like exceedingly boring back-to-back meetings. They look down to see Sage had saddled herself in between the two of them, leaning against Morgan's side with a content light purr. Smiling softly, the seer moves to pet the cat until they notice the weight stopping them from doing so. Morgan's hand was resting atop their own. ⸙⸙⸙ When Morgan awakes, Seer Obscura is already gone, but they leave behind a text advising him to check his fridge. The grin that spreads across his flushed cheeks is unwavering for the rest of the day when he sees the inside of his fridge is filled with containers full of different foods, his favorite foods, meal-prepped for the day-- even more lining the inside of his freezer, enough to last him a couple weeks. For the remainder of the week, he enjoys that his apartment smells of them. Both of their cooking and of their person.

Seer Obscura plant/cat sits for Morgan while he’s out of town for a week and freaks the fuck out bc they don’t have the slightest idea of how to take care of plants. They just volunteered because Morgan has pretty eyes and a pretty smile with cute dimples and he mentions that he needs to find a sitter and before they know it they’re standing in his apartment with his keys in their hands.

The note he leaves behind is pretty vague and when he’s guiding them through his apartment, Seer Obscura reaches for his hand to stop him in his tracks, waving the note in their hands.

“What is a little bit of water to you? A little bit of water? Like… a cup? Half a cup? How many seconds do you count down when you’re pouring water out of a watering can? Or do you use a hose? Don’t laugh, I’m being serious, Morgan.”

Morgan gave them more concrete measurements (mostly for their sake, how much a certain plant needs of something he’s long been using muscle memory for) and they take it so seriously they’re actually pulling out measuring cups & spoons for it. Whenever he gets a text during a meeting he has to take a deep breath and keep his expression as stoic as possible because the way they talk in person vs the tone of their texts is so juxtaposed—he can’t imagine their voice in his head being this frantic and he so badly wants to laugh.

[amyrosedaily]

Day 7: "female bullying" (reference under the cut)

Donate to save Muhammad Shehab's family! Main Post | GoFundMe

[outlying-hyppocrate]

i have officially returned. ask me anything.

[nightskylonging]

Whose idea was it to make a kirtle out of flannel bedsheets in 29C weather?

Oh yeah, mine.

I'm merrily calling this project 'my descent into madness' and I'm having a grand old time. I'm engraining the metric system in my brain (American down, folks), I'm delighting in how comfy this thing is going to be (I did a quick pinned fitting with the side gores in, it is so soft and so flowy, and it'll be even more flowy once I get the front and back gores in), and I not only definitely have enough fabric for the sleeves, scary as they may be, but probably one or two kerchiefs as well! I won't wear those with the kirtle, that's too much dark blue in one go, though.

[maukuja]

I haven't really been able to get anything meaningful done during my sick leave (which is pretty much the whole of last month) but! today I did! I worked on an essay for 30min and then also worked on an art piece for ~1h! And I could've gone for more but I need to go see a cardiologist early tomorrow so I'm trying to get to bed early!! I'm trying to take more care of myself and succeeding so I am celebrating that :3

[kyouka-supremacy]

(๑˃‌﹏˂‌)

[mitamicah]

I asked people on tumblr (and IG) what to do with my hair and here's the results

First of all thank you guys for voting on this poll (X) it was very interesting and helpful getting your input

Now I actually ended up not only making a poll here but on IG too and surprisingly they were in agreement for buzzcut:

So I guess I'll have to find the scissors tomorrow x'D Stay tuned :3

[elegyofthemoon]

can someone remind me to write up my thoughts about gallagher and the enigmata later or at least compile them somewhere i want to share it but also my Goodness i am sleepy as heck today and i have work tonight 😔

[imwritesometimes]

seeing how simple the recipe & ingredients for brigadeiros are and kinda wanting to add them to my Christmas goodies for the year to give out but also knowing my godmother is Brazillian and I'd hate if if they weren't good.....

[proto-language]

winter so bad i'm considering watching grantchester

[there-will-be-a-way]

Logically I know... In the state I am rn... I should admit myself to a psych ward. But I would worry my friends and family.

The last few weeks made me realize I live more for others than I do for myself. My family told me I'm self centered but with every decision I make, I put their feelings first. I can't do this anymore. My social worker told me we could get me out of here anytime. Even if it meant staying at a shelter for homeless people. But what about my belongings? My parents would be in so much pain.

But today something clicked in me. That we live in different worlds. They don't understand me - and it's not about blame, it's about different life experiences. Which doesn't matter in the end. I want to be with people who get me. People with a different kind of life. Like my friends.

They can't understand. Unless they wind up in a similar situation than mine, they'll never understand.

For most of my life, even during my hardships, I had a plan. I knew where I wanted to go. I had a plan. Now I don't. I just genuinely don't know what to do. I don't. I feel truly and utterly helpless - and more sorry than I could ever put into words. So much guilt.

If yesterday, my acquaintance wouldn't have driven me home, I wouldn't have gotten here. I wouldn't have made it.

I can't care for myself at the moment. So humiliating. Such a shame. So much helplessness.

But I will end up figuring it out. Even if that means asking for more help than I deserve.

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3