#These two deserve each other because no one else should ever be subjected to the horrors that these two have brought to the party

[fashionredalert]

You expect me to be normal? About them??

*points to Madara being dissected by Tobirama for over a week, then later when Madara impales Tobirama with multiple black rods to keep him exactly where he wants him.*

[osaemu]

ミ★ quick learner 🜸

pairing: student! gojo x reader

summary: to you, chemistry means two things – the worst subject on earth and the best feeling ever. satoru somehow teaches you both.

word count: ~2.0k

notes: suggestive. modern au. mentions of organic chemistry. making out. guest appearance by geto. gojo calls you 'smart girl' at one point. rushed. barely proofread. written while i was half asleep. like always, reblogs are very very appreciated.

a/n: i genuinely don't know how i feel about this one... there are parts i like and parts i don't like (that i was too lazy to fix) and it's kinda just stitched together ... lmk what you think in the comments pretty pls 💞

"question four – what's the difference between molarity and molality?"

"wait, those are two different things?"

since you and satoru had both procrastinated studying for your impending chemistry test, you found yourselves at the library long past midnight. 

it was an accident – when you had decided to study in the library instead of at home, you hadn't anticipated running into anyone you knew. but of course, satoru gojo, the charismatic guy in your english class, was here too. 

you wouldn't say that the two of you were close – acquaintances was a better word. satoru and you knew of each other and were on friendly terms, but until now you had never really taken the time to talk alone.

but hey, just because you didn't know the guy that well didn't mean you were about to turn down a free study partner. especially one as attractive as satoru, although it was admittedly a bit distracting when you were trying to focus on your work.

it wasn't his fault – his long, white lashes were just naturally mesmerizing. and his eyes? breathtaking. even in the dim light of the library, his eyes shone like crystals. you didn't even want to start thinking about his hands, his jawline, and certainly not his body, otherwise you'd be studying something else the whole night – him and his stupidly attractive self.

after a ton of mental self-chiding, you finally manage to get your priorities straight and actually try to study, but what started as a study session gradually turned into a tutoring session when you two realized that one of you needed a lot more help than the other.

and to your dismay, that was you.

"you really thought molarity and molality were the same thing?" satoru scoffs, shamelessly grinning. "y'know, it's really a miracle you have an A in the class. you don't deserve it."

"shut up," you reply, knowing only too well that he was right. the only reason you were able to maintain a good grade in this stupid chemistry class was because the teacher offered a ridiculous amount of extra credit.

but unfortunately, you couldn't float on that boat for much longer. your grade was still slowly slipping, from a 95 to a 93 to what was now a flat 90, and your pride wouldn't let that number fall any further.

satoru laughs and shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair. "c'mon, at least tell me what molarity is."

"uhh, that's moles per liter, right?"

he nods and twirls a pen in between his fingers. "yeah, that's right. now what's molality?"

"how should i know? i don't pay attention in class," you groan, resting your head in your palm.

satoru rolls his eyes, and you take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous they are. they were a color somewhere in between cerulean and ocean blue, further enhanced by his long white lashes.

your admiration quickly fades to indignation when satoru clicks his tongue and starts rattling off some dictionary definition of molality.

"y'know, you'd know more if you weren't on your phone the whole time in class," he says dryly. 

you groan again and lean back in your chair. "it's just so boringgg," you whine, pushing the chemistry worksheet away. "forget it, i'll just guess on the test tomorrow. it usually works."

as you start to sweep your pencils and papers into your bag, satoru grabs your wrist and gets you to meet his ocean-blue eyes. "i'll feel bad if you do badly because i didn't help you enough."

his grip on your wrist is firm but gentle as he leans a millimeter closer. "let me help you, yeah?"

after a beat of silence, you nod and look away. his glacial eyes are piercing in the kind of way that makes you think he can see right through you, and you don't like the feeling of being readable.

"so, am i gonna have to force you to pay attention or will you do it yourself?"

the question catches you off guard. something about the way he asks it makes it very clear that it's a genuine question – either you can try and make yourself focus or he can make you.

you don't quite know what the latter means, but it sounds more fun, so that's what you pick.

and that's how you ended up on his lap, hair wrapped around his fingers as he quizzed you from behind. 

satoru had somehow motivated you to actually try and study by rewarding you with a kiss for every question you got right. had the offer come from anyone else, you would've called them a creep, but satoru was attractive and he knew it. on top of that, he wasn't afraid to use his good looks to get what he wanted, which, in this case, was for you to do good on tomorrow's test.

"avogadro's number?"

"umm, 6.022 x 10 to the 23rd?"

satoru nods and kisses the side of your face, lips trailing over your jawline as his eyes flick back to where he'd scribbled a couple practice questions.

"how many bonds can hydrogen form?"

"one."

this time, his lips touch your neck, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your body to hold back the embarrassing sound you can feel at the bottom of your throat.

"last question, how many bonds can carbon form?"

this time, your voice comes out breathier than you expected. "four, right?"

"smart girl." 

and now, for the first time this night, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips. he doesn't linger and he doesn't give you any chance to savor the taste of his lips – one second his mouth is pressed to yours, the next it's moving with words you don't quite absorb.

he rifles through a couple papers and makes a face. "actually, my bad, there's more. not much," he quickly adds when he sees you groan. "just some stuff we didn't cover completely at the beginning."

"you're the worst."

"you'd fail without me."

"maybe, but at least i'd be happier."

despite your playful jabs, the truth that studying with satoru was a lot more bearable than studying by yourself, and it was also a lot easier to stay awake. before you knew it, two hours came and went, and you were practically an expert on everything that could possibly be on the test tomorrow.

and when you're finally able to confidently tell satoru the difference between molarity and molality, that's when he turns you around on his lap to face him and presses his lips to yours again, and this time, he doesn't pull away.

"you're a quick learner, aren't you?" satoru mumbles against your lips. he pulls back for a second to get some air before grabbing your chin and leaning in for more. "yeah, i wonder what else i could teach you. you wanna find out, pretty?"

you're not entirely sure when the studying ended and the making out started, but you certianly do know when the making out ended. 

before you could reply to satoru's rather suggestive question, a message blared from the speakers around the library and interrupted whatever you two had going on.

" it is now closing time. all remaining students, please return to your residential places immediately."

satoru chuckles and nudges you off of his lap before standing up and stretching. "well, it's almost 3, we should get some rest." 

"yeah, that's probably smart."

"of course it is. i'm smart."

"yeah yeah," you mumble after a second when no better retort comes to mind. probably because he was telling the truth – satoru was smart, and he knew it. 

"well, i'll see you tomorrow," he says, sweeping the remainder of his stuff into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. "good luck on the test, you'll do great."

you smile and zip up your own backpack before heading towards the exit on the other side of the library, his words buzzing around your head and the memory of his mouth fresh on your lips the whole way home.

"satoru, satoru! guess what i got on my test!"

after you made your way home from the library last night, you slept like a rock. barely a minute after you tiredly stumbled into your oh-so welcoming bed, you were out. 

despite only getting around five or six hours of sleep, you felt pretty damn good the next morning as you sat down to take your chemistry exam. and that good feeling stayed with you the whole test, and when you finished, you were able to confidently set your paper on your teacher's desk.

well, as confidently as anyone could set a piece of paper down anyways.

but now it was lunchtime, and a soft chiming sound from your phone signaled that the test was score and put into your grade. your hands shook slightly as you tapped the notification, but to your delight, a 97 lit up your screen.

and of course, who else could you credit with this besides satoru? so you walked over to where you'd seen him hang around during lunch and called out his name, but you really hadn't anticipated company.

"ah, satoru, who's this?" the dark-haired boy beside satoru asked, voice light with interest. "have you been seeing someone and not telling me about it?"

satoru laughs and shoves the guy's shoulder before turning to you and grinning. "sorry 'bout him. yeah, what was your score?"

he has a lollipop in his mouth, and as he raises an eyebrow at you, you feel yourself grin as you proudly say "a ninety seven! my grade went up to the mid-ninties, too!"

"smart girl. knew you could do it," satoru says, a lopsided smile spreading across his face.

"it's only 'cause of you," you say, a bit sheepishly. "without your help, i wouldn't've been able to do that."

satoru exhales a laugh and reaches out to ruffle your hair. he looks like he's about to say something before the other guy clears his throat.

"sorry to interrupt your... moment, but the lunch line is starting to grow and my patience is starting to shrink. satoru, you coming?" 

"yeah, give me a sec, suguru." 

satoru looks back down at you, sunglasses resting on the tip of his nose and cerulean eyes flashing in the sunlight. "looks like i gotta go."

you nod and wave him off. "yeah, i'll see you around, i guess. thanks so much for the help, really. i owe you one."

satoru grins and pulls the lollipop out of his mouth. still looking at you intently, he runs his tongue over the lollipop one last time before sticking in your mouth.

"you wanna pay me back for tutoring you last night?" satoru asks, smirking at the surprised look on your face. "drop by my place tonight. i'll teach you something else this time."

he leans in and gives you a quick, sugary kiss before turning away and walking in the direction geto left in, leaving you with nothing but a tingling sensation in your lips and a promise to see you soon.

satoru laughs to himself as he walks away, waving one hand back at you without bothering to turn around. when he catches up to suguru, the latter notices the wide smirk satoru dons and asks about it.

"oh, it's nothing. just looking forward to tonight."

you were, too.

a/n: if i wrote smut i'd write a pt 2 to this. maybe one day idk

i'm probably going to get back to writing some more angst after i finish the last of my requests. i miss writing fics that make people cry /hj

if you haven't already, check out some of my other jjk fics in my masterlist (below!)

anyways thank u vvv much for reading, reblogs are always very appreciated 💞

masterlist

[agender-witchery]

I played through The Coffin of Andy and Leyley recently, and as with all games I play, I took to reddit to go and see what sorts of discussions people have about the thing I just read. Normally this is largely uneventful, I'll engage in some discussion, come out happy, usual things.

TCOAAL has way too much fucking incest for these discussions to ever be normal. Like that's just part of what the game's about? But because it's such an amazingly divisive topic, like a ton of people moralize over it, there's a subgenre of incest discourse around the game where the subject of discussion is that group of people who moralize about the game. And this creates a lot of weird arguments.

There are a lot of different kinds of weird arguments here, from people who lie and say it's only in the optional dream in the burial route (it's not) to people who just downplay it and say that the game isn't about incest (it is, it's just also about other things), to people who say that the game condemns incest (the game does not present an opinion one way or another).

And like, these arguments all have one thing in common, the people making them feel the need to save face in some way, make both the game and their discussion about it more respectable in the eyes of people who think we should never depict bad things in media ever. And so I wanna talk about the last thing, about how the game supposedly condemns incest, because even among the people who are most honest in their discussion of this game, this still gets thrown around a lot.

I don't think TCOAAL endorses incest, I don't think it endorses anything, but it doesn't really condemn them either. This goes for all of it, whether it's murder, cannibalism, incest, or whatever else they do. As far as the text is concerned, these things are presented value neutral and just kind of trusts the reader to implicitly understand that they shouldn't go around fucking their sister and murdering their parents. I don't think that's an argument the game has to make. There are some out of game sources that make that argument, but I do not think the game's about section on Steam counts as part of the text. The closest the game comes to having an opinion presented in the text is that sometimes Andrew acknowledges that what they're doing is fucked up, but that sure doesn't stop him, does it?

And that's kind of what makes the game so fascinating to me. This is a game about incest and manipulation and a horrifically abusive codependent sibling relationship and the ways in which these two maladjusted fuck ups react to the most vile shit possible, from their perspective. Like, I'll make a joke like "God I wish Ashley was my sister" but gonna be honest, if she really was, I would be trying my best to get the fuck out of there. And it is fascinating that Andrew doesn't. The way these two people absolutely need each other, that murder and cannibalism can't be deal breakers for Andrew, that they're valid solutions to problems for Ashley, the way in which these two idiots are so deeply fucked up and the way they react to being fucked up is just... why else would I have continued reading past the first episode? Stick them in a test tube and examine them kinda deal. You just can't really discuss this game in as much detail as it deserves if you just sweep the incest off to the side and pretend it isn't there.

So it's weird to me that people who talk about the game wanna downplay the incest, because to be completely honest, the game doesn't work without it, and anyone who enjoys the game enjoyed the incest, because it turns out this is a horror game and the incest is part of the horror.

[phatcatphergus]

Hi, you reblogged me with a lore dump about Q! Tubbo and you mentioned that you'd be willing to do a character analysis? Please, I'm invested at this point

Ahhhhh omg hi! I can't believe you came back for more lol. You shall soon be a qtubbo stan like the rest of us.

I do want to preface this by saying that this is my personal lore interpretation so it's subjective. So many people have great analyses of his character, so I recommend watching a couple streams or looking at the tag for a broad scope as well!

That being said...

I think the best word to describe qtubbo is loss.

He was brought to the island having already lost parts of himself he didn't know. Through his time on the island, he lost respect, credibility, friends, family, teammates, nieces and nephews, penpals, godkids, mentors, and himself. He never had something he didn't end up losing, whether by choice or force. He loses what matters most to him, yet he continues giving his all to everyone he meets.

He came to the island with loss and no sense of who he was or where he came from, yet he spent all of his time for the benefit of others. He worked day and night so that other people wouldn't experience the loss of what he could prevent such as items or supplies. He never wanted anyone to experience what he experienced, even when they were the ones perpetuating it.

No one ever cared about him unless it was for a reason. His relationships were transactional and needed to be because who would ever care for someone with no firm sense of self or where you came from? When he couldn't provide a transaction of care, he made himself useful, he became indispensable so that even if people didn't like him for him, they could use his skills until they didn't need him anymore.

The only time he actually felt that someone cared for him, just to care about him, was Fred. Fred had no emotions, no sense of self, and no past to speak of. Fred was someone who had no reason to hate or use Tubbo because Fred was like Tubbo. Fred was the first person who could care for Tubbo because he wanted to, and not because of his use or someone's sense of responsibility.

Losing Fred meant losing the one person who cared about him without strings attached. Anyone else only cared about him because he was useful, a leader, an engineer, a neighbor, a business partner, a babysitter, someone to steal from, or just someone to poke fun at. Until Sunny.

With Sunny, Tubbo knew better than to expect her to stay with him. He learned from his past that he doesn't deserve something as wonderful as Sunny, that he can only love and wait until she is ripped away too. If he wasn't good enough to keep Fred, why on earth would he be even partially enough for Sunny.

He mourned her loss the day he got her. He knew he wasn't the best for her, he wasn't anywhere close to what Sunny deserved, but he did his best regardless and loved her more than life itself. Sunny became his tether and the only reason for him to stay alive. Sunny needed him like he needed Sunny. Sunny was the only reason he kept himself alive after Fred's funeral. Through the jeers, through the belittlement, through the disregard for his feelings, Sunny was there and provided him with enough purpose to keep going.

Fit and Pac dating made his only sense of security start to crumble. The two people he figured would stick by his side were moving along without him. They wouldn't need him in their life because they would need each other. They don't need his friendship anymore, his usefulness has worn itself out. He doesn't see them extending a hand to him as they step forward because he's too focused on the empty voids in his past where others should be.

He tries to break them up, and even if they hate him, he can rationalize that he did it for the right reasons. They may hate him but they're stuck with him, kicking and screaming by his side. Everyone tells him that he needs to find Fred, that he's projecting his romantic life onto theirs. In reality, he is too scared of leaving the island the exact way he started, with nothing to his name and no one by his side.

His character is such a battle between what he wants to do and what he feels that he needs to do. His entire run through purgatory was fighting others for eggs that weren't even his. He spends his days working on projects for other people and picking apart his failures when others can only see his success. He works tirelessly so that Sunny won't ever understand what it's like to be underestimated, beaten down, mischaracterized, and alone. Even if the world is against them, he will be in her corner to fight until his dying breath.

He loves so deeply and so purely. He tries to compensate for the lack of it that he has received after giving it away to whoever asks. He is depressed, anxious, and on alert. He has gone through trials and events with his head high and carrying the weight of others on his shoulders. He loves and he gives and continues to even when the people he gives his love to throw it to the side.

He has people in his corner, but his fear of them leaving has already made them vanish in his mind. He's a killer and a father. An engineer and a friend. A penpal and an adversary. He is loss and he is love.

[defiantdreemurrs]

after finally watching madoka movie 3 i am 100% convinced the internet hates homura because they misunderstood her completely

the only crime you could ever pin on her is that she considers herself lesser than madoka and therefore is convinced she has to sacrifice herself so madoka can be happy

the same crime madoka herself is guilty of

both of these girls feel so much love for each other and yet they also feel so little for themselves, both of these girls are convinced the only way they can make each other happy is if they accept an eternity of suffering, and both of these girls practically leap at the chance to suffer for eternity if it makes their beloved happy

the only thing homura ever did wrong was to not love herself, and i honestly cant fault her for anything else as a result

the things she did for madoka are expressions of how much she loved madoka, as well as how little she loved herself, and i cant help but relate as someone who is so deeply filled with self loathing yet so madly in love that i would gladly sacrifice myself for her

homura isnt a villain, shes not evil, she willingly damned herself and occupied the role of the dissenter, the rebel, lucifer morningstar, solely so madoka could be happy in a world where her family was safe, she and her friends didnt have to fight witches, and homura could still be with her

which is something madoka herself did too, shes only doing what madoka did, but because she accepted her role as the devil to madokas god everyone sees her as pure evil and thats the whole POINT of the god vs devil imagery in the movie is to comment on how what we see as “good” and “evil” are so heavily dependent on framing and aesthetic and how those things can make two girls doing the exact same thing appear to be completely in opposition

the point of madoka isnt that homura is evil or that she shouldnt be so obsessed with madoka or that shes wrong for loving madoka as much as she does, the point of madoka is that you should love yourself and subjecting yourself to endless self sacrifice because you think so little of yourself is only going to hurt those you love and possibly to the point of locking you into a neverending cycle of self sacrifice in opposition to your beloveds own self sacrifice

the only thing homura ever did wrong was to not love herself as much as she loved madoka, because she certainly deserves to

(in other words, in case you misunderstood me: homura did basically nothing wrong and all her actions in movie 3 are justified she just kinda needs to love herself and i theorize movie 4 to resolve things essentially by having madoka show her that neither of them has to be so self sacrificing because its so very clear that this is the only thing she ever does wrong and that madoka has also been doing the exact same thing and that both are at fault and they just kinda need to stop escalating this endless cycle of self sacrifice, and one more time explicitly homura did nothing fucking wrong and becoming the devil to lift the weight of the world off of her beloveds shoulders is both a deep expression of love for madoka and a show of how little she loves herself)

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 14

The sound of seagulls floods the open, unpolluted air of Pelican Town. Summer has finally arrived, which means I have to grow this season's crops. A trip to Pierre's shop is in dire need since I also need to replenish my food supply.

The jingle above the door announces my arrival, causing Pierre to look up from his counter and give me a greeting nod. I shoot back a casual wave and disappear into the aisles.

"I knew you'd be here, farmer." Haley gave me a sly smile. She was apparently waiting for my arrival.

"Well hello there pretty lady, how'd you know I'd be here?" I throw my hands in my pockets and broaden my shoulders. She blushes at my little comment.

"Well, last season we ran into each other here around this time when you needed seeds. I may have waited around today to see if you'd show. I want to know what kind of crops you are growing this season," she responds.

"Uh huh...?" I give her a look of suspicion, unsure if she is telling the truth.

"No really! I don't want anything else I promise...," I watch her look me up and down quickly, "scouts honor!" she puts two fingers together in the air instead of the three.

I cover my mouth quickly to stop me from laughing out, but I don't do a good job because I end up letting out a few chuckles.

"I think your fingers are saying otherwise," I say.

A look of confusion crosses her face.

"Not that three fingers is too many or anything..." That finally makes her clue in to what I was laughing about and throws her hand back to her side. Her face has gone beat red now.

She turns to face the shelf of seeds and proceeds to change the subject, "what seeds are we starting with. Oh, how 'bout some melons." She takes a few packs of melon seeds off the shelf and places them into my basket.

As she continues to pick out the seeds for me, I cross my arms and lean against the shelf. She has been chit-chatting away to me as she places things into my basket, not noticing I haven't said a word. She hasn't even noticed the look of adoration I have been giving her this entire time.

"-summer is usually best for sunflowers, which are like my favorite thing ever, but they also grow in fall too," she rambles on. However, that sentence makes me perk up.

"Oh yeah? You really like sunflowers?"

She nods her head aggressively.

"Hm," is all I respond with. She didn't put any sunflower seeds into my basket. Instead she moved on to the blueberries and tossed those in.

We start moving down the aisles of Pierre's store, her rambling on about whatever she can think of with me trailing right behind her like a little puppy dog. She has filled my basket to the brim with everything she has decided I should get. I haven't stopped her from putting even one thing in.

She suddenly stops in her tracks, almost causing me to bump into her. She abruptly spins around to face me. "Why do you call me 'pretty lady'?"

"Can I not call you that?"

"No no no it's not that. I'm just wondering why. Do you think I am pretty?" her eyes are twinkling up at me while she waits for her response.

"I think you're beautiful," I responded genuinely, looking down at her captivating, blue eyes.

Her mouth opens slighting to say something, but then she closes it. She keeps repeating the same process as she thinks of the right words she wants to say.

"Why have you been so nice to me since you have gotten here? I have been nothing but mean to you and you don't deserve any of it. I'm so sorry," she wipes a tear from her eye.

"You aren't being mean to me now, are you?"

"No but-"

"Unless you are going to walk out on me again without explaining why?" I try teasing. I reach my hand up and brush away another stray tear from her cheek.

"Maybe," she chuckles sadly.

"Alright I'll make way." Chuckling along with her, I move to stand off the side, going along with the bit.

"I'm sorry again for doing all of that and constantly walking out on you when we are together. It's just... I have been feeling... weird?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we never going to talk about the day at the spa?" she blurts out.

My breath catches in my throat and I start choking on air, breaking into a fit of coughs. "You remember that?" I managed to get out.

"Surprisingly,  considering I drank that whole bottle. There are some bits I don't remember, but I remember enough."

"Is this why you wanted to catch me at the store today?"

"I had promised you there was nothing more to me being here. I just happened to bring it up now."

We stand there awkwardly, none of us knowing what to say.

"I'm really sorry I put you in that situation. I'm also sorry you had to see me like that. I had just gone there to clear my head with all my confusing thoughts and then you happened to show up and..." she trails off.

"And then you were telling me you and Alex go there to screw around, taking your top off, giving me a massage and hitting on me," I finished for her. She winces and her shoes suddenly became very interesting to her. I tilt my head and wait to see what she has to say.

"Sorry..." she whispers.

"That happened a lot to me in my high school years. Girls would get plastered, think they are into girls, then try to hit on me or even try to kiss me when they are in that state. I say 'think' because all of them I've seen on social media are with a dude now. Who knows, maybe they ARE into girls and just continue to suppress it. I hope they are all happy with their choices." I give a little shrug like it's no big deal.

Haley has a look of horror on her face. She brings her hand on top of her head, smooths back her hair and puts her other hand on her hip.

"I can't believe I acted like that, oh my Yoba." she puts her face into her hands and takes a deep breath.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Alex. I know you guys aren't together right now, but just in case you guys get back together or anything..." I give her a reassuring pat on her shoulder.

She raises her face from her hands and gives me the most judgmental, but sympathetic look and starts chuckling. "Respectfully...you are really dumb, Danny."

[jelzorz]

Still waiting for this semester to fucking end so sorpeli hcs ft. everyone else to help me cope

Opeli is bad at saying no to shenanigans normally but is especially bad at saying no to shenanigans when Soren is the one who asks. Nobody notices this but Ezran. He never considers why though. He just knows that if he wants something that Opeli will be a bit :/ about, he should ask Soren to ask for him.

Amaya knows and gets along with everyone generally except, of course, Viren, which is something she shared with Opeli when they were younger. In fact, the two of them having a bit of a bitch about him to each other was not at all an uncommon occurrence. When Amaya finds out about Soren much much later, she is not only Thrilled for her friends, she's thrilled because it would make Viren roll over in his grave. (It should also be noted that Amaya and Soren make an incredible chaos duo, much to Janai and Opeli's chagrin. Janai starts packing enough Sunfire-Ibuprofen for two whenever plans are made to visit Katolis).

If you've been keeping up with LJ and the Sun, you'll know that Opeli tells Rayla and Claudia figures it out on her own. A secret third person figures it all out too, because it's his kitchen and everyone ends up in it when they're angsting over their various Problems. Barius eventually ends up knowing everything about everyone and his yet-unnamed spouse ends up privy to the Juiciest Gossip in all of the Five Kingdoms as it comes.

Soren eventually does produce his own poems. He writes primarily about two (2) subjects. No one who knows him well have to ask who those are. In addition, although he and Callum were never Best Friends, it's something they talk about together, and something they bond over as they get older. Callum keeps a copy of every anthology Soren ever writes.

For a hot minute, it looks like Claudia might not be able to have kids. Ez isn't too cut up over this tbh but Opeli insists that a line of succession is established Just In Case. Ez names Callum his Heir Presumptive, obviously, with Callum and Rayla's kid to follow but, in Opeli's words, "A line of succession made up of two people is hardly a line of succession, Your Majesty." Ez, by this point, is a bit of a shit himself and goes "Okay then," before formally making Soren third in line for the throne. Opeli does not realise what this means for her kids until Soren points it out to her. The following "WHAT?" can be heard as far as the Independent Isles.

Soren doesn't ever forgive Viren. Not really. But he still takes the twins to his grave every now and then. He doesn't lie to them about what happened. He doesn't pretend his relationship with his dad was better than it was. He did his best in the end, Soren tells them, and in another life, maybe he would have done better. The relationship that could have been will always be something that he thinks about and this is the closest to that he will ever get.

The Corvus/Soren/Opeli threesome happens when the three of them are very drunk on one of Soren's birthdays. Opeli almost tries to swear it won't happen a second time, but historically, she was really bad at that, and realistically, she knows she wouldn't say no if Soren and Corvus wanted to do it again. What can she say? Two decades of devotion to the Five Sisters had her kind of repressed and she deserves to live her best life with two very attractive and very attentive gentlemen in bed.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Evie (Ace!Tav) Playthrough Day 4

(I love Evie in this fit)

Day 1… Day 3- Day 5

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

For the uninitiated, I wrote a Tav well before I ever had a chance to play the game. Now, I finally can and thought it might be fun for my first play through to be as that Tav. Or, at least as much as the game play will allow me.

These are just some of my notes and scattered highlights that I thought would be fun to share.

Let me know if you think if I should continue this and any suggestions you might have.

So much happened you guys holy shit!!!

Technically this is a combination of two days, since I didn't have time last night and figured I'd wait until after I played some more today (there is just so much of this game I feel like two hour sessions barely scratch the surface)

First off, it took me way too long to figure out how to deactivate the traps in the back cavern in the Emerald Grove

Legitimately nearly died twice; if it weren't for my saves I would have

Not ashamed to admit, I needed to google it; I have never claimed to be a "gamer"

Still got it sorted (and if anybody knows how to get to that center bit in the middle of the cavern, please let me know)

After that decided to go after best girl Karlach

Ran into the Owl Bear cave first and I am upset

I *really* didn't want to kill the Owl Bear mama, but even with non-lethal damage the cub still eats it's mother; seems like it all is the same in the end

I'm now thinking more and more that Evie and Shadowheart get to be good friends; Evie takes a more benefit of the doubt approach to people, and I don't think she knows enough about the Gods and Shar specifically to have many thoughts on the subject

I've been purposefully handing all the books and other info to whoever else is there so Evie doesn't get the info from reading

Lae'zel and Shadowheart are also majorly at each other's throats in the first act

Lae'zel also would not be a fan of Evie; Evie comparatively talks way too much for Lae'zel's taste (+11 to Persuasion will do that to a person) (did I mention I love bards)

Did eventually get to Karlach and she's so great guys! I knew I was going to love her, but I *love* her

She deserves to wreck the Paladins of Tyr hide out, as a treat

(That one bitch was giving me so much trouble, thank God for Wyll's Eldritch Blast or we would have been spending all our actions just trying to keep up)

I am once again faced with not being able to punch a ginger bitch because of *consequences*

Also, I hate all the options they give you when talking to Wyll after he's transformed into a devil

None of this is what Evie would say to him!

Either way though, I am secure in the fact that Wyll would like Evie (even if he's not a fan of her trust in Astarion)

So, one long rest later and we're heading towards the Blighted Villiage; Astarion, Gale and Karlach in toe

Came across the boar and Astarion really is so suspicious

I also think at this point Astarion really doesn't know what to make of Evie; placing her in category bleeding heart no doubt and not certain of her abilities

She's a good talker, as she's able to convince the goblins to let them pass without a fight

On the other hand, she did assists Gale with his little problem, sacrificing a necklace of Dancing Lights

Also it doesn't help that she was nice to a gnome

I think what starts to change his mind though is when they meet Raphael on the road

I really do wish you could give Gur as a background, because even if Evie didn't grow up in the caravan, I do think just culturally she'd pick up on stuff

Not trusting devils I'm sure is top of the list

I wasn't expecting to have Evie so viscerally mistrusting of Raphael, but it felt right to play it that way

I'm not sure who he'd remind her of in her past, but I do think there is something beyond just him being a devil that rubs her the wrong way

Either way, her rejection of a devil's bargain that would not only enslave her, but likely them as well, even in exchange for a cure does re-color some things

Not sure where to insert this in the grand scheme of the narrative, but Evie did let Astarion open the door on the orger and hobgoblin

Evie's talking did not help in this situation

I know the narrative makes it clear what's happening, but I'm thinking Evie might have had a random ace blind spot moment

Like she's not totally naive about sex, but when it's usually the last thing on your mind (and you just talked with a devil), it's not the first thing you picture at the sound of banging

Not her smoothest moment; (honestly the sudden violence is a god send for everyone not to ask her more questions about it)

Either way, went back to the grove with some of the infernal iron and got Karlach stabilized at least

I love Karlach and Wyll's friendship, I support wholesome ships; low key starting to ship her with Dammon though

He's real cute, Karlach deserves a nice guy, and you know he'd roll with the punches

Another long rest later and we're here

The scene

I've been thinking about the build up to this scene

Obviously we know in origins it's after Astarion has a vision of Cazador and wanting to push the limits of his new found freedom by going against one of his rules

But I keep coming back to why Evie

Astarion can likely smell something being wrong with Gale's blood, Wyll just turned into a devil and would likely kill him, Karlach's blood is literal fire, and Lae'zel would also absolutely kill him

That leaves Shadowheart and Evie

Shadowheart is a big question mark to him; she follows Shar, maybe she might even like being bitten

But then there's Evie who has shown time and time again that she wants to help

This is about survival after all, and it would only be a taste

IDK, exploring it; add it to the list of possible future fics

But Evie obviously does wake up and does allow Astarion to bite her

As for Evie's motivations as to why, yes, Astarion is a prickly bastard, but he's in the same boat as the rest of them

If he wanted to hurt them, surely he would have done it by now

She recognizes the look in his eyes, Gods know she's worn it enough; the man is starving, the fact he hasn't done anything until now says a lot

This is definitely the shift in her and Astarion's relationship where they start to actually warm up to each other

So next morning gang wakes up, Evie stands up to Astarion saying she trusts him and heads out again towards the goblin camp; Shadowheart, Astarion and Lae'zel in toe

So Evie's current standing with the party;

Gale has disclosed his condition and gotten the first magical item; high rating with Evie, thinks of her as somebody who he can not only trust, but as someone who has shown bravery and true kindness (not to mention eloquence); maybe starting to form an...appreciation

Wyll has turned into a devil and certainly likes Evie, but maybe a little doubtful in her trust in Astarion and some dealings with the goblins

Shadowheart; genuinely trusts Evie as she's revealed her ambitions as a follower of Shar, and used the artifact in front of Evie in order to protect them from the influence of The Absolute (also might be starting to crush on her, but Evie has not been taking the opportunity to flirt)

Karlach: too soon to tell, but seems like a good person

Lae'zel: not a fan, too weak willed and doesn't know her place; talks too much

Astarion; unsure, certainly knows he can trust her now, to an extent; still too much of a bleeding heart, but then again, it's helped him; at the very least she knows to draw the line with devils and willing to kill to stay alive, over all a fair ally to have

Oh! I can't believe I forgot about my new best boy!

Scratch!

[sasster]

And Then?

im still SICK so if you see any typos, no you didn’t tw: blood Uhm, yeah, here’s the next part of the other drabble! If you’re lost, you should probably read that one first. [doc] —

This must be what divine intervention feels like, was the first thought that passed through Aelium’s mind when he woke up, not on the floor, but in a bed softer than anything he’d ever laid on.

For a time that felt like eternity he was surrounded by vast nothingness that even swirled through him at times, if he made a sound in that nothingness it did not reach his ears, nor did his lips move. Eternity was not enough time for him to catch his bearings, because before he knew it he was awake, in this bed, with a blanket thrown over his head.

Didn’t he die?

There were two voices murmuring with each other somewhere else in the room, but he refused to pull the covers up from his head to find what fresh hell Persep’d sent him to. He died, didn’t he?

“The fuckin’ puppet broke my phone, and I think he did something to my other connections, I can’t really call anyone that can deal with this.” Was the first voice, it was one he’d never heard before, but it sounded more annoyed than anything about the situation.

“I don’t even think I know anyone that has half an idea how to deal with something like this.” Came the response, a voice crowned by the grogginess of someone that deserved to be brumating peacefully, not being bled for however many days and nights that he was. Areios sighs. “Zeke, none of it makes any sense. Can’t we just burn the body?”

“If you say he died before and came back, I don’t think we should try to leave it to a simple burning.”

Areios groaned.

Poor thing. They must be talking about Persep, though Aelium couldn’t fathom why Persep would be the one that died. He was very clearly not the one that was stabbed in the heart.

At that thought, he reached up to touch his chest and found only the memory of having been stabbed; A fresh scar. The movement caused his hand to throb something awful, and he was reminded also that he’d broken thumb. His thumb was still broken, but the wound over his chest was closed up.

That didn’t make sense either. He did not enjoy playing in Persep’s world.

“Looks like your friend is up.”

The movement must have gotten the attention of the owner of the unknown voice and what came next was the sound of Areios lumbering over to his side, before he knew it he was wrapped up in his arms.

“Aelium, are you okay?”

He only nodded into his chest as the blanket was removed from his head. Then he caught a glimpse of the blue haired human that stood over his twin, now bound where Areios was.

“This one is breathing, too.” He said without turning to see the reunion of the two purple bloods. “Let me figure out what to do here.”

“I can call our ancestor.” Aelium whispered with an impossibly small voice, unsure.

Zeke laughed.

“Great, more Lycaons. It’s not like we have much of a choice here. Call ‘em up.”

—

By the time Thanat arrived, Persep was definitely awake. The unperturbed human had the foresight of blindfolding him before he woke up, “So he’s not tempted to do anything funny,” Zeke’d said as he did it.

Bound and blindfolded like that, Aelium found that he was much less intimidating. He didn’t seem fit for a conversation though, so silence was what he, Areios, and Persep sat in when Zeke walked into the room with their elder.

Thanat wasted no time crossing into the room and stopping directly in front of his blindfolded descendant, the scowl he sported was mostly obscured by his hair, but Aelium’d spent enough time with the pair of them to know it was there.

“Hey there, Embalmer. You’re late.”

“You must have forgotten to send out my invitation.”

“I figured you’ve been busy enjoying the company of The Evocator. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Even Aelium knew this was a sore subject, but what he could not anticipate was what came next. A growl ripped out of Thanat’s throat, and he snatched Persep up to his feet by the hair. The usual serenity their ancestor carried with him was swept out of the room as the growl increased in intensity.

Persep has a way of bringing out the worst in the other Lycaons, it seems.

“So,” Zeke interjected, leaning around the growling reaper to get his attention, as though this was all nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Areios said that he stabbed Aelium in the chest and then fainted. That’s weird, right?”

The growling stopped almost immediately. “Is that so?”

There was no answer, and in the sudden silence, Thanat leaned over to grab the previously discarded knife from the floor.

“Is that so?” He repeated when he didn’t get the answer that he was looking for, then he shook Persep by the hair to indicate from whom he’d expected the answer. Persep only tried, fruitlessly, to pull himself free instead of answering. “Very well.”

In one clear stroke, the knife that ended Aelium’s life once again found itself spilling Lycaon blood. A darkness draped itself over the Embalmer and from the angle Aelium and Areios watched him slit Persep’s throat, it was hard not to see the resemblance the two held. Dark eyes, and a smug sense of satisfaction crossed his features.

Aelium and Areios watched in stunned silence, but Zeke laughed, a little hysterical.

“Fuck, I mean, you’re kidding right? Aren’t there rules to this shit?”

Perseps head lulled, only held firm by the hold Thanat had on it, and for all intents and purposes, he seemed to be well and truly dead. A second later he gasped for air and seemingly regained his faculties.

Once again, Aelium found himself touching the new scar on his chest, and once again fear started to cloud his thoughts, tugging at his resolve.

“I actually died?” He mumbled, so small that only Areios could hear him. The behemoth responded by pulling him in close. Nothing in Persep’s world makes proper sense, he wanted so badly to wake up from this nightmare.

“There are rules,” Thanat mused, ignorant to Aelium’s question, as he carelessly dropped Persep to the ground. “He already broke one.”

“Congratulations, pest.” He spit down at the troll down by his feet. “You’ve tethered your immortality.” The statement was accompanied by a kick to the ribs that no one in the room was expecting.

Persep swallowed something that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a cry, mutated by the new slit in his neck. The slit that, with the sickening sound of skin squelching against skin, seemed to be mending itself.

Aelium and Areios held each other tightly, or as tightly as they could given the exhaustion the day’s events left behind.  Aelium noted the way the giant’s arms quivered around him.

“He’s a reaper, then?”  Zeke clarified, not for himself, but the two in the room that’d been forcefully thrusted into this world. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” The Embalmer echoed calmly, with his attention now on someone other than his disgrace of a descendant, the clear animosity that poisoned his features melted away. “I really do not know how he did it.”

“That’s really fucked up.” Zeke mumbled.

An uncomfortable silence settled around the five of them, leaving them all to stew in the gravity of what this all meant. Aelium struggled to understand the nuance of what being a reaper meant. And why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as though any of this made even a lick of sense.

Persep died sweeps ago, he should still be dead.

Aelium himself was just stabbed in the heart, and there was clearly no medical intervention, he should be dead.

He groaned at the headache that started to throb stronger and stronger, this caused Areios to attempt to tighten his hold on him. Selfishly, he drank in the fact that Areios didn’t seem to hold any of this against him.

Maybe he’d never held anything against him after all.

“Can you spell this out for those of us present that have no idea what being a reaper means?” He asked, voice partially muffled into the chest of his giant friend.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much, Leli.” Persep said as he brought himself to his feet, his blindfold now undone and slipping to the ground, with a saccharine smile and smugness that made him sound much too happy. “It was not exactly how I planned, but it just means I’ll be here for a while.”

“Yeah, that’s what immortal means. Thanks.” The human, that Aelium wished he had half the backbone of, said in a voice that dripped with sarcasm. “Basically, he found a way to break his bind to a very powerful God — Thazilis must be pissed off by the way — and the universe reconciled that by tethering him to itself.”

Aelium strained to look at Thanat for confirmation, who only nodded along solemnly.

“That doesn’t sound like good news.”

“It’s not good news, it’s like, medium news?” Zeke responded, also turning to look at Thanat, he nodded again. “It means he can’t hurt or kill people anymore, which I guess are his main hobbies?”

Perseps silence was starting to get to Aelium, so he turned his troubled gaze to his twin. Persep was standing at his full height, the chains that offered Aelium the peace of mind that held him together, were undone and pooled at his feet.

Though Thanat seemed unbothered by this, his hand immediately held firm in the younger man’s hair again, keeping him in place, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous that his twin was no longer so thoroughly restrained.

“That’s why he passed out when he stabbed you in the heart. Killing a mortal is the biggest no-no for a reaper, and the universe was correcting his misstep.”

The human kept droning on about rules and reaper responsibilities, but the only thing that throbbed louder and louder in his ears was the confirmation that he did, in fact, die. For a few moments, just a few moments.

He died for a few moments.

His head started spinning, the smell of the blood on his shirt finally started to suffocate him.

When’d the room get so hot? Why couldn’t he make sense of anything Zeke was saying about Persep’s new lot in life? He screamed for everything to stop, for everyone to shut up, but the sound just rattled around in his skull instead of leaving his lips.

For the second time this evening, Aelium passed out, this time his fall was broken by the behemoth that held him so securely.

[soartfullydone]

Did you ever read ACOSF? What did you think of the twilight baby plot?

Everything I know about ACOSF I've learned against my will lol. One of my best friends kept a play-by-play of each chapter in a Google Doc, so she could spare me the reading experience but also so we could make fun of it mercilessly.

In all seriousness, I knew I was never going to subject my eyes to it directly because I hate Nessian with a burning passion. I one-hundred percent believe that Nesta deserves better than everything she got, and she should've been meaner actually. Even when I somewhat liked ACOMAF, I felt utterly indifferent to Cassian. Who is this bland rice cake taking up the space where Lucien should be? No good dialogue or anything out of that guy. And then SJM wrote Nessian into MAF with all the subtlety of a clown show, and it was over. Nesta hates him! Keep him away from her! If she doesn't kill him, I will!

Most baby plots are horrendous in fiction, and I hate them deeply also. They often reduce women to being pure idiots (why do I have morning sickness after unprotected sex? a mystery!) or they reinforce this false idea that women can only achieve ultimate happiness by having their One True Love's baby. Ah, the number of women I know who are stuck in unhappy marriages, their sense of self completely lost because being a Wife and Mother comes first! Can those things be fulfilling? Absolutely. But a lot of folks are selling a romanticized idea of both, and SJM is no exception here.

Because look at what the Twilight baby plot does. It takes away all of Nesta's power, asserts her feelings of worthlessness, and encourages her to be a breeder for Cassian, who never even told her he loved her in their romance book. It puts her firmly and forever under Rhysand's and the Night Court's boot. It confirms that Feyre has also lost all her agency, that the High Lady title is meaningless, that her found family and Court do not respect her, that Rhysand will lie to her and trap her if it serves him to do so. That, ultimately, her body does not belong to her and she doesn't have a choice.

What really gets to me, too, is that these two women have to change their bodies to accommodate their love interests, their supposed fated mates. Methinks if it was fated, if they really were perfect for each other, this kind of change wouldn’t have been necessary 🤔. But also if this really were a fantasy story with all-powerful magical beings, there’s no reason why Feyre’s pregnancy should’ve been so risky to begin with. Barring that, there’s no reason why a C-section couldn’t have been an option. It was drama for the sake of drama, pain for the sake of pain. All filler, no substance.

Everything surrounding the baby plot and Nesta's forced captivity prove ACOMAF for the lie it is, a romanticized idea about overwritten trauma and choosing the Perfect Guy because he can read your mind and tell you the things you want to hear. I mean, how else do we go from Feyre earnestly believing she wants time with her new love, that a child can wait, to a Feyre who can't think of a single gift to give Rhys besides the news of her pregnancy? (Cue him cumming to the sight of their unborn child. I will never forget, and neither will you, dear anon, I'm sorry. But I didn't write it!)

And idk, given how much pregnancy in general squicks me out despite being a woman myself, how much medical care for women generally sucks, how many people are going through such pain with miscarriages, unviable pregnancies, and unclear yet strict abortion laws... This ain't it, fam! If SJM wants to talk real-life application with her trauma bullshit, then let's talk real-life application! Because no one, not a single person, has an I Am Become Death magic sister who can pull a dying mother and their dying baby back from the brink where medicine and the law have failed them. No one can have their premie who can't survive on its own suddenly turned into a healthy six-month-old. Who does this plot serve? Neither the reader nor the characters benefited.

I genuinely can't understand how SJM, as a mother herself, could write something so tone deaf, without even being brave enough to explore this kind of fear and pain with any care whatsoever. If she wanted Feyre and Nesta to actually bond over something... Feyre's pregnancy and what that means as a human-turned-fae and a mother could have been it. That could have been something the sisters discussed and helped each other with, where they could have learned more about each other and their deeper fears as young women in a society that does not truly respect them. Both of them share in family trauma, for fuck's sake! Now here Feyre is starting a new family at great risk while Nesta is still guiltily mourning the one she lost! The dots are there!

But no. Instead, not even Feyre is allowed to learn the truth about her pregnancy until Nesta tells her, and then Nesta is painted as a villain for doing so. Feyre isn't allowed to have any real opinion or lingering fears or doubts about her fate whatsoever. Because none of this stuff really matters, especially not the trauma. It's about the fucking, rutting, animal sex. It's about the smirking males, their dripping seed, and their inability to be anything besides horny at any given moment. It's about the washboard abs. Hey, a sexy story would be just fine with me! I just wish SJM would fully embrace that (and also write it better lmao) and get off her "I'm God's gift to feminism" soap box. Maybe take off the girlboss shades, too, because ain't none of her female characters even living up to the shallowness of a girlboss. The narrative undermines and undervalues them too much.

Actually, I have to clap my hands to SJM for this baby plot. I've never seen one that destroys two main female characters in a single stroke before. That's how powerful Rhysand's dick is.

[lalalaugenbrot]

15 questions + 15 friends tagged by @nougatbit

1. Are you named after anyone?

i don't think so but as far as i can retrace my name it's greek, somehow ended up in russia and then was made popular outside of russia via doctor zhivago's lara/larissa... (still have to read that!)

2. When was the last time you cried?

I cried from an allergy i have to certain skin cremes last night at the cinema... apart from that i don't remember atm but certainly not long ago

3. Do you have kids?

nope

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

i did swimming when i was like 14 (i still like swimming a lot but i'm not in a club or anything anymore)

5. Do you use sarcasm?

no :-)

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

this has always been a weird question to me... their??? face?!?!! (*laughs nervously* wouldn't that always be the first thing to notice about someone???)

7. What's your eye color?

blue

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

a weird opposition. i don't really like horror movies and i prefer the ending a story needs and deserves, so some stories (e.g. a story on two traumatised young men who love and need each other more than anything or anyone else in the world in a mediocre prime time crime show) certainly deserve a happy end, other stories (e.g. a film that displays some severe social grievances) often should not have a happy ending because there isn't one to be expected in reality either... except for sometimes, for example, when it is about two queer men in 1913 Britain, finding and loving each other against all odds and all social norms, written by a gay man in the same era, then of course a happy ending can be imperative even :-)

9. Any talents?

people don't tire to tell me how ~creative i am... and that despite my apparent total lack of (visual, auditory, sensory) imagination 🙃 so there's that

other than that... i think i am good with words and i write since i literally can write and nothing brings me more joy than having written.. writing has been like the most important thing in my life for 26 years now even though it has always been something that happens more like 'in the background' of everything else

10. Where were you born?

in one of the (imo) most village-like "Großstädte" of Germany... if i told you where you'd probably know it because of one specific thing... i've been all the way to other continents and people knew it just because of that

11. What are your hobbies?

most hobbylike things are probably analogue photography, building stuff around the house (shelves etc.) and going to the cinema (or like film in general)

12. Do you have any pets?

no, but i had mice and i miss them... if i had more time and more space to have an adequate place to keep them i'd like to have mice or rats again...

13. How tall are you?

1,73

14. Favorite subject in school?

hm. not sports. i had a 'compulsory optional course' in physics/informatics and i always say it changed my life bc that's where i understood that i like and am good at technical and computer stuff... i also liked pedagogy (nrw superiority), the obligatory history course in 12th grade specifically and in the last years also maths... god do i miss solving math problems 😭😭

15. Dream job?

i wrote this in my friends journal when i was like 10 and it is still true but i think i am a bit past the point where this will ever happen but it's 'director ' (of films)... but that involves networking and other people and putting yourself out there... and uh... i just don't see that happening (i have directed but not in the slightest professionally), the other one of course has always been 'author' and i guess that could still happen... someday in the future maybe... you know, when I'm a grown-up

tagging: @diersten @tiny-steve @sinnsenke @mcfif @black-cat-aoife @silverysnake @free-piza @lachricola

[silversiren1101]

hellpair and relaxation :)) (they deserve it)

You are 10000% right they DO deserve it :3

Ask Game - Ship + Headcanons

I've joked about this before, but Regill is the kind of person that takes vacation time off as seriously as he does work. He is strongly opinionated that they need to be entirely distinct lest they bleed into each other and become less effective. Work is only for work. Rest/vacation/holiday time is NO WORK. People that try to have fun with work will see their work suffering; trying to sneak in work during time off will only one yearn for time off sooner and more frequently as they aren't truly resting. They must be distinct.

In the modern world, he'd be the guy that would immediately turn off his work phone and sign out of all of his accounts the second the clock hit 5pm the night before scheduled time off, lol.

Minovae is... frankly bad at separating the two, lol. She'll blend work with play and play with work - that's just how she is: always needing to feel productive. Regill is less severe about her seeking play-time during work but if she tries to work when she should be relaxing? Oh he is like a hawk watching her. He'll snatch things from her hands and lock them away, forcibly change the subject to something else if she brings it up in conversation, drag her outside or away to do something else... Her soul has literally shattered from stress and he is extremely fastidious in making sure she never gets close to that point ever again (especially having been warned by Sosiel and Arsinoe both that since it's happened once she may be more susceptible to it again - like hairline fractures that never fully heal).

Because of this, their vacations usually involve travel. She just can't be in the Citadel or anywhere near because she'll end up busying herself trying to be productive. They usually go to cities: Kintargo, Korvosa, Oppara, Absalom... hell they've been to Sothis a few times! He does try to ensure she actually relaxes despite the hustle and bustle of traveling and such - sending her off to a spa or grumbling indulging her in beach time (he doesn't like the beach but so long as he has a book and it makes her happy...)

The most relaxing vacations for her are the ones that tend to involve hot springs or spas, though it's a sacrifice between that or the beach since they're usually in the mountains!

[tetrisfinished]

growing families

on friday my second niece was born (my sister's second daughter) and omg i am so in love!

but more than that, since the moment i saw her i have prayed beyond any prayer that my eyes never ever harm my sister or her (my) family. because seeing esa experience the birth of a new family member, and seeing him interact with a kid, and having him say "i wish i had a baby sister or brudda" ache my heart so much.

to be completely honest and frank, i'm not sold on the idea of a second kid. all things apart, just completely for myself, it is not something i want. but i am of course willing to consider it for esa's sake.

here i will pause and say there is NEVER A REASON to engage in having a kid unless YOU WANT THE CHILD. that is it. that is the ONLY REASON.

but....in my real life, it seems my brain has adopted other reasons as well. given my history, ie i am already a parent, i know for a fact that i will love and give a second child the attention and care that they require and deserve. so if i choose a second child, it will not be at the expense of a present and available caregiver in their life. and the reasoning behind me starting to change my mind is how much esa wants it (though one can argue that he's only 4 years old and perhaps doesn't know the full extent of what he's asking for) and because my personal experience with a sibling (my sister) is that she is actually my bigger cheerleader, support system, confidant, bringer-back-to-earth....all of those and more. and i want that for esa.

and i guess most importantly - because a sibling is the only person who shares the "trauma" imparted on the children caused by shared parents. no one else will ever understand.

and given that yasir and i are not in a good place, nor frankly, do i ever foresee any change in our situation...esa already feels the difference. there have been countless times where after some bickering esa has asked either or both of us to apologize to the other, or in random situations he's held both of our hands and then slipped out from the middle and made us hold each others' hands, or he's point blank told me to speak to yasir ie just talk to him mama.

so even at 4 years of age...he absolutely understands that ours is not a good marriage.

on the flipside - if i decide and am successful with conceiving and having another kid...i am actively subjecting yet another child to the shit relationship that yasir and i have. and more important to the SHIT parenthood that yasir provides to the family. i am actively choosing to subject a child to constantly missing his father or looking up to a father who's almost never present in the home and constantly on his phone or with his friends. and i'm actively producing a child that may someday grow up to be exactly his or her father's child.

i'm actively agreeing to watching not one but two of my kids feel sadness and jealously when they see other kids having better relationships with their fathers. i'm actively choosing to see their pain in a completely hopeless situation because i am not able to change their situation or their father.

i'm actively choosing all of this and before even any of this - the matter of ahem conception of said child. i am actively choosing to engage in the activities required to engage in in order to have a child. which....is perhaps the biggest piece of this plan that i personally take offense to.

all of this to say - i'm still straggling this line. i'm still figuring it out. i'm still not sure what it should be...

anyway.

that's it.

-k

[bollur]

Relationship headcanons for Vox Machina pretty please?

a/n: this is so long but i don't wanna apologize for it actually because it's so sweet and i loved doing this.

Vax;

you're literally two left shoes

people are surprised to find out that Vex is his sibling and not you

the shit-talking among you two is so thick that outsiders think you hate each other

sometimes the party are still unsure if you guys are being serious, then you both burst into laughter

sometimes you end up waking up piled on top of each other like a couple of kittens

always dragging each other into one anothers shit

you do everything together

recon mission? you don't even ask – you just get your shit ready

got caught and need an alibi? your 'husband' is coming to save your ass

giving the party double the heart attacks because of the life threatening shit you do? he wouldn't have you any other way

it's funny watching you train together because it's always just you trying to avoid him while screaming bloody murder because he's 100% capable of kicking your ass and doesn't hold back

you swear its payback for the fact your burns are better than his

and you may or may not have participated in a couple rounds of ball tag that you weren't invited too

you found out it counts as five points if you knee someone in the balls and you haven't let go of that since

you never fail to tell each other how lucky you are to have one another

you couldn't imagine life without the other

Vex;

she's the right shoe to your left

honestly the anchor to your whole ass wreck of a ship

does not hesitate to scold you furiously when you do something to put yourself in danger, even if it was her brothers idea

you know better than to do it – or at least you should

has held you in tears before because she wasn't sure if she was happy you survived or so moved by the fact you would risk her life for her brother

she told you one time she was going to make you scream louder than Vax ever could

you had been extremely confused

you were torn between flushing, crying, screaming and vomiting out of nervousness from that one statement alone and the million things you tried to decipher it meaning from the unreadable expression on her face

that's when she joined in on you and him training, you realized quickly what she meant, and you were sure all of Exandria could hear you that day

if Vax was 100% capable of kicking your ass, then Vex was 200%

she was determined to make you more capable of handling yourself

sure you could literally fireball someone ass off the face of this earth leaving only a scorch mark in remembrance of their existence

but that did you no good in close combat and if you died she'd personally killed whoever did it, bring you back and then kill you again for leaving her

you were the sister she never knew she wanted but was beyond thrilled to have

even if your studies were expensive as fuck

she's cried over paying for them before but you've kept them alive in sticky situations so many times she knew it was deserved

Percy;

it took a lot of work to get your relationship with him to where it is now

for him to admit he doesn't feel at least a smidge of jealousy at how pure your relationship with everyone else is would be a lie – he wants that

not that he'll ever tell you

when you smile at him like he's the only person in the world, he would die for you

you like to come and watch him tinker with things and it's the most comfortable silence he's ever found himself in

sometimes he finds himself showing you how to do a few things

he loves watching you practice new spells even if you don't always notice he's there

looks forward to the nightly wine sessions that somehow became a thing from weekly but you'll never hear him complaining

loves that he can have conversations with you over refined subjects sometimes

if you have no idea what he's talking about on something, you listen to it with actual interest

he may or may not constantly think about the fact you told him one night that you love how cute it is when he gets passionate talking about his interests

also absolutely does not think about the night you were completely trashed over trying to keep up drinking with grog and told him he was the prettiest snowflake you'd ever seen and had the audacity to 'boop his snoot'

nope never

you give this man like 7 silent heart attacks a week with the shit you get into

he's threatened to wrap you in bubble wrap before

it's just his reserved way of telling you that he wants to keep you safe and he absolutely adores the smile that crosses your face every time he makes a salty remark about your recklessness

Pike;

there's not a single soul in this world you wouldn't absolutely demolish for her

honestly the same goes for you

you're family to this little gnome and she values that more than anything

just like scanlan you give her head pats whenever you can

there's so much reading of tusk love together that sometimes the party gets concerned when one of them hears the words coming from your mouth with in her room

one time you both lied and told them you were aiming to become a famous smut story writer and Pike was your critique

but then cackled and assured them it was just the two of you enjoying some tusk love

honestly no one was sure which one was better

always teases you when she has to heal you up after the multiple sparring sessions you go through on a weekly basis

sometimes you and her like to lie your way into fancy parties just for an excuse to dress up like ladies and get free 'fancy shots'

you just need an excuse to dress up like a princess and she loves seeing you happy for something so silly

which when she found out how easy it was because you actually had quiet the reputable family name to use in your advantage for these occasions

she was 100% into all the way

the two of you were always down to fuck shit up

Grog;

to be honest the first few couple time the party had been in the thick of it this man thought you were absolutely useless

but then he thought maybe you were a lot like Keyleth – not fond of violence and insecure about yourself

but then this dude, during one particularly bad encounter, watched you stand up, eyes glowing, raise your hands to the sky and fucking balls of fire came raining down upon your enemies

he wasn't sure if he had been aroused or terrified but it was probably both

it was definitely both and after that he respected you a lot

you'd never be his Pike because you were taller and obviously not Pike, but he adored you

this man bugged you for 4 days straight to practice burning hands on him after he heard you telling Percival all about it

you spent 5 hours explaining to him how and why that was a horrible idea and you might actually vomit if you ended up hurting him and he got severely offended and didn't talk to you for awhile

somehow you ended up with him several feet in front of you and pike slightly behind you and obviously everyone else behind you because who was gonna miss this

what you really thought would end up with him never asking for you to do it again ended up with him wanting to spar with you all the time which, was worse than doing it with Vex or Vax, you quickly found out

you have been teaching him how to paint to the surprise of the group

he was actually really interested in it and ended up painting a beautiful picture of him hacking someone in half in one swipe

you didn't hesitate to frame it and have it put up on the wall

in return he teaches you how to handle you ale, something you're still failing at miserably

Scanlan;

your relationship with this gnome was a special one

on the outside it looked like it was all harmless flirts, jokes, and shit-talking

but you two confided in one another for a lot and it was more than just what you thought of his latest musical work

it was actually very therapeutic to find yourself in his room at 3am both of you throwing your hands around, talking about nothing and everything

there had been several times you had to be told to shut up because you got a little too loud while everyone was sleeping

you couldn't ask for a better and more understanding person than this small king

even if he tried to convince you into a three-some every friday night

you'd always ruin it by telling him you didn't feel like dealing with chlamydiae, making his paid date either horribly offended or disgusted and leaving

you'd think eventually he'd stop

nah – he's convinced you'll come to your senses eventually

you pat him on the head every time you walk by him or get a chance

there's an unspoken bond between two people who reach for things without even having to be asked and that is your bond

you've totally sang with him before

of course you were incredibly drunk and ended up puking on a bunch of people and getting yourselves thrown out of the pub

he rated it a 10/10 and would be damned if it didn't happen again because watching you have that much fun was what he lived for

Keyleth;

there was nothing in this world you wouldn't do to protect Keyleth

she was your soft friend

you loved disappearing with her for hours on end to just enjoy the world around you

she would tell you all kinds of things about plants and animals and you there was nothing more you wanted to do than sit and listen to her

she taught you how to make flower crowns

after that the two of you always had one on tbh

you better believe she always brought it back to life if it started to wither because she was going to cherish it until the day she dies

sometimes she came to listen to you and Pike read tusk love

you all kept that a secret for the sake of her shy heart

this chick loved having conversations with your fluffy familiar and tbh it spent more time around her than it did you

not that youd ever admit being sad about that because it would make her sad

a sad Kiki mad you a mad magic user

she was the reason it started getting easier to become a morning person except on the mornings you drank hard

sometimes youd wake up to find out you had passed out in her room if no one had escorted you to yours

she didn't mind – you'd just crawl up onto her bed and you'd sleep like puppies until it was all better

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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

+ Childhood

[scuttling]

(Not So) Casual Friday

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 4,456 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch (it's not a main component but he very much has the tummy here), Pining, Accidentally admitting attraction, Embarrassment, A little angst, Oral sex, Protected sex Summary: Your best friend Derek finds out about your feelings for Hotch and teases you mercilessly. You can manage it, though, until the first ever Casual Friday, when Hotch shows up to work in a black polo and jeans and you kind of ruin everything. Or maybe you don't? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Okay, girlie, today’s the day,” Derek says when you set your bag and coffee cup on your desk on Monday morning. You shoot your best friend a tired smile and wonder for the—you’ve worked at the BAU for almost two years, so it’s probably the 500th time—for the 500th time why he has to be such a morning person when you would prefer not to have a conversation until at least 10 AM.

“Today’s the day for what?” you sigh, asking out of obligation, because it’s obvious that’s what he’s waiting for; he smiles, picks up your coffee and hands it to you, which must mean you sound bitchy. You take a grateful sip, close your eyes and exhale through your nose.

“For you to admit to me that you’re in love with Hotch.”

You spit out your coffee—only all over yourself, which is great, wouldn’t want to inconvenience Derek at all—and then cough so hard he has to thump on your back to help clear your airway.

It draws some attention; Hotch comes out of his office, takes a look at the two of you and probably regrets hiring the both of you, then walks down the stairs to make sure you’re okay.

“What happened? You’re wet,” he says a bit gruffly, looking at the coffee all over your chest and sleeves. You glare over at Derek, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.

“Derek made me spill my coffee.” You grab a handful of tissues off your desk and pat at the wet spot, trying to soak up the worst of it, but it’s not salvageable. You’ll have to change your shirt.

“And then you… choked on it?” Hotch asks, to clarify. Derek does laugh at that; the things Hotch is saying happen to have dual meanings, slightly sexual, and now that Derek knows—thinks he knows—about your thing for Hotch, it’s clear he finds it all so hilarious. He’s a twelve year old boy in a grown man’s body.

“Okay, I didn’t spill, I spit,” you correct, looking up at them, and Derek makes an exaggerated face of disapproval.

“Should have swallowed,” he says, trying to sound serious, and you shoot him an irritated look and reach out to slap him in the chest. Asshole.

“Do you need help getting cleaned up?” Hotch’s expression is kind, sweet, but you’d sooner die than have him blot coffee off of your boobs. It would be mortifying, especially in front of Derek.

“No, no, I think I’m okay. Thanks,” you add with a soft smile, and then you reach up and pull your sweater over your head, unzip your go bag, and search for another top.

For some reason, Hotch has a coughing fit scarily similar to the one you just had, and you turn to pat his back like Derek did for you.

“Are you alright?” you ask, looking up into his face, and he nods despite his watering eyes.

“Fine,” he croaks, and he leaves as quickly as he came. You sigh, because it’s not even nine and your day has already been so weird.

You’re wearing a tank top, and thankfully the coffee didn’t get through to that layer, so it’s quick and easy to throw another lightweight sweater over top of it; you ball up the wet one, shove it in the dirty clothes portion of your bag, zip it up and stash it under your desk. Derek looks like he’s having the best day of his life.

“You realize you just undressed in front of Hotch,” he says with a tone you don’t appreciate. You roll your eyes.

“I did not. I had a tank top on underneath.” You almost always wear an undershirt, because you’ve been a cop long enough to know that sometimes your clothes get torn or messed up in the line of duty, and you’re not trying to offer a free show while taking down an unsub. Derek wiggles his eyebrows, points at your chest.

“Yeah, one that put those little boobies on display. His eyes bulged out of his head like a cartoon character.” This time, you punch him in the arm, hard. It’s too goddamn early for this.

“Can you please shut up already? I don’t have a thing for Hotch.”

“Ah, I didn’t say you had a thing, I said you’re in love with him. And I have evidence; lots of it.” You tip your head back, groan, wondering what you did to deserve a best friend who is also such a pain in the ass, and it’s that moment that Hotch chooses to rejoin you; he looks a little flushed, probably from the coughing earlier.

“Uh. We have a case; I know not everyone is here yet, but you can head up to the briefing room, I’ll grab the others when they arrive.”

“Sure thing, sir,” you say easily, grabbing your tablet and what’s left of your coffee; you gesture for Derek and he follows, laughing and shaking his head. “Okay, what is it now? I’m so glad you find me entertaining today.”

“‘Sure thing, sir,’” he says with a high, breathy voice you assume is supposed to mimic yours. “You want his dick so bad.” You narrow your eyes at him as you head upstairs.

“Uh, because I was being respectful? I know that’s a foreign concept for you, the world’s biggest asshole, but you don’t have to read anything into it.” You take your usual seats at the table, pull up the note-taking app on your tablet, and Derek sits back, crosses his arms behind his head.

“Well you’re not calling me ‘sir’, and I’m the sexiest piece in the office, so it’s hard not to read into it.” You look over at him, elbow on the table, chin in the palm of your hand.

“Sexy is subjective, and you don’t do it for me, sorry to break it to you.” He scoffs, laughs, and you laugh too because you both know you see each other as brother and sister, buddies, and fellow former cops, and absolutely nothing else.

“Yeah, I get it, only Hotch does it for you; he’s not my type, but I can see how a young lady like yourself could be drawn to his brooding exterior.”

“I’m not drawn to his exterior!” you practically growl, and then you’re joined by Spencer and JJ.

“Good morning. What’s going on with you two?” JJ asks, loading up the monitors for the debriefing, her eyebrows raised.

“She’s in love with Hotch,” Derek says completely nonchalantly, and you rest your head on the table, on top of your forearms, and sigh.

“She’s what?” JJ’s whole face lights up, and you seriously regret everything.

“I’m not in love with anybody!” you mumble against your arms, and then you sit up, because you’re clearly going to have to defend yourself. “And I’d appreciate it if you quit saying that I am.”

“I told you I have evidence,” Derek reminds you, leaning back in his chair a little. One swift kick would have him toppling ass over tea kettle, but you’re too nice, even when he’s actively trying to ruin your life. “Shall I go over it while we wait?”

“I’ll be an objective third party,” Spencer says with a brief smile, and you sigh, wave your hand toward Derek.

“Alright, let’s hear it. I’m sure I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for whatever evidence you might think you have.” He grins like this is the moment he’s been waiting for, and you feel a little stupid for encouraging this.

“For one, you always look at him. When I’m delivering a profile, I notice you watching the locals, making sure they understand what we’re going over, since you're the queen of analyzing the micro expressions. But when Hotch is delivering a profile, your eyes are on him the whole time. Same goes for discussing theories on the jet; anyone else, and you’ve got your face in your tablet, scribbling notes, but you always look at him when he speaks.”

Your cheeks get hot. He’s a captivating speaker, is all, with that deep, velvety voice, and you can learn a lot from him, so you pay attention. That’s just being smart.

“Second, you tense when he gets close to you: not like you don’t want him to touch you, but like you’re halfway to jumping him already and trying to control it. I could probably put my hand in your pocket and you wouldn't even flinch, but if he leans over you to point at something you look like you’re about to cream your pants.”

“I have seen that, actually,” JJ offers, and you look over at her, betrayed. Sure, you get a whiff of his clean, crisp cologne, or feel the heat of him at your back, and your body reacts, reminds you that this is your boss and you’re at work and you can’t get turned on by the way he smells, but that’s actually a good thing, not an indicator of feelings or anything.

“Third, there’s something up with you and the gray suits. I can literally tell that he’s wearing one before I even see him, all because of the look on your face. It’s like you’re drunk on the gray suit.”

“Okay, that’s not true,” you say with a roll of your eyes—the gray suits are god tier, but there’s no way you’re that obvious—but it’s Spencer who speaks up, this time.

“You know, I have noticed that. Your pupils tend to be more dilated when his suit is gray or blue than when it’s black.” Fuck. You sigh.

“He barely ever wears the blue. It looks so good on him,” you murmur, and then you snap your eyes shut, cover your face with your hands. “Fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“To be fair, we are profilers,” Derek says, leaning in to pat your back. “But also to be fair, he’s been a profiler longer than any of us, so if we know, he definitely knows.”

“Not helping, Derek,” you grind out, and then you’re joined by the rest of the team. Penelope takes the seat next to you, leans in with a worried tone of voice.

“Is everything okay?”

“She’s having a small crisis, but she’ll be fine,” JJ says with a smile, and you don’t miss the way Hotch looks you over when she says it, concern in his eyes. “Alright, so we’re headed to Arkansas…”

Later that morning, when you’ve been given your instructions—yours are heading to the crime scene with Emily and Derek—Hotch pulls you out into the hall, rests a gentle hand on your arm.

“Are you alright? JJ mentioned you were having a crisis earlier. This is the first time I’ve been able to get you alone, and I wanted to check on you.” You take a deep breath, look up at him, so handsome in a black suit, white shirt, green tie—he almost never wears a green tie, and you absently think it brings out the more golden tones of his eyes—and smile softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s really nothing. Personal stuff, and I’m dealing with it.” If by ‘dealing with it’ you mean you’ve been repressing it, shoving it down day in and day out until your feelings are choking you, then yeah, you’re dealing with it. “Thanks for checking, though, that’s kind of you.”

“Of course. I’m here to help in any way I can, if you need me.” Good god, do you need him, emotionally, physically, but that’s fantasy, and this, what he’s offering, is rooted in reality. Good things do happen, but not to you.

“Thanks.” Your voice is weak to your own ears, and he swallows, nods; you see Derek hovering by the door, waiting for you, and you pull away to join him, plastering a smile on your face. You don’t talk about it again until Friday, and at that point it’s extremely unavoidable.

It’s Casual Friday, newly implemented by the bureau as a way to boost morale, and while it doesn’t really excite you, because you’re fairly casual anyway, others take full advantage of it. Others, including Hotch.

He shows up to work wearing a black polo and dark jeans, his usual watch. It’s easily the most simplistic, basic outfit a man could decide to wear on Casual Friday, but this isn’t just a man, it’s Aaron fucking Hotchner, and so naturally, you lose your damn mind.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the damn polo didn’t fit him perfectly, tight across his shoulders and chest and the little tummy he has that makes you want to be under him so badly, your stomachs pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly, his strong thighs working against yours…

“Hello, are you alive in there?” Emily asks, waving her hand in front of your face; the two of you, along with Derek, are in Penelope’s office for lunch while Rossi, Reid, and JJ are out of the office for a seminar. You blink, shake away your thoughts and hope and pray they don’t come back—but they’ll come back, they always do.

“She’s just short circuiting because of Hotch’s Casual Friday look,” Morgan says with a wink, sitting backward in his seat. “She’s been drooling so much I’ve had to follow her around with a mop to clean up after her.” You push your wheeled chair away from them with a groan, needing space and air and, potentially, a brain transplant. You’ve gotten nothing done all day long.

“Can you blame me? The man comes in here everyday, buttoned up tight, looking incredible in a suit and tie, and then he shows up in that black polo, all snug and hot and delicious, and you expect me not to freak out? You guys are lucky I didn’t pass out.” You’re met with silence, and you blink, confused, at your friends, but they’re all just kind of staring with looks of barely concealed humor. “What? It’s not like it’s a secret that I want to climb him like a tree.”

“Pretty sure it was a secret to him,” Penelope says, looking shocked, and you whip around in your chair to see Hotch standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and a little flushed.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I, uh—” He raises a hand, waves you off.

“It’s okay. No harm done; thank you, for the, uh. Compliment.” He steps forward, hands a manila folder to Penelope. “Thanks for taking care of these,” he says softly, and then, unsurprisingly, he gets the hell out of there. You wish you could disappear off the face of the Earth.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you mutter when he’s gone, leaning forward with your head in your hands. “That’s it, I’m quitting. It’s been nice knowing you guys.”

“Okay, don’t be dramatic,” Derek says, and you look up to glare at him; he’s the one that started all this in the first place. You were fine, feelings tamped down and suppressed, until he brought it up and then told everyone you know.

“Don’t tell me not to be dramatic, Derek! This is all your fault. You never respect my boundaries, you never know when to just let me be, you always have to pick and pick until you wear me down. Maybe I had a reason for wanting to keep my feelings private, did you ever think of that?”

“I know you're upset,” Emily begins softly, because there’s some pretty thick tension between you and Derek now, but you stand up, push your chair across the room, and shake your head.

“I’m not upset, I’m fucking humiliated. I’m going home; let him know I’m sick, will you?” You exhale deeply, storm upstairs and grab your stuff and drive home with tears in your eyes. You’ve never been so embarrassed in your life, and add that to the absolute heartbreak you’re feeling? You’re just happy you make it to your apartment, so you can break down with cheesecake and a sappy, romantic comedy with a happy ending: those perfect, fictional worlds are pretty much the only place one is guaranteed. You are, as planned, hunkered down on the sofa in your softest pajamas, watching You’ve Got Mail and eating the center out of an entire cheesecake with a spoon when there’s a knock at your door. You groan, pick up your cheesecake tin, and walk over to it, fully expecting it to be Derek come to beg for forgiveness for ruining your life, so it’s no surprise you drop your dessert on the floor when it’s actually Hotch on the other side.

He looks down at the tin, then up at your face, cracks the barest hint of a smile.

“I thought you were sick; I brought soup,” he says, holding up a paper bag, and your heart thumps in your chest. You wipe a hand over your face, because you haven’t been exactly neat in your heartache cheesecake consumption, and then you kick the tin across the floor and invite him in, closing the door behind him.

“I thought it was obvious that I wasn’t actually sick, just… really embarrassed,” you say when he turns back to look at you. “I can’t believe you heard all that stuff I said… I’m really sorry I made you uncomfortable.” You take the bag from his hand and invite him to follow you into the kitchen, where you set it on the counter, lean against it. He comes close, but not so close you can’t function, which is good; your comfy pajamas are shorts and a loose tank top, so you feel a little exposed already.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he says softly, and you frown, must have heard him wrong. He presses his fingertips against the counter, as if for support. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was… unexpected,” he explains, “very unexpected, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

You flush hot, and you can feel the bad decision part of your brain switching on, warning bells ringing in your head.

Whatever you do next has the potential to be extremely stupid, and you would like to avoid that at all costs; you love your job, after all, despite how physically and emotionally exhausting it can be, and you love your team. Time to think with your upstairs brain only.

“That makes me feel a little better,” you say truthfully, and despite the pep talk you just gave yourself, you move closer to him like there’s an invisible magnetic force between you; you would imagine a guy like Hotch would step back, keep his distance, but he only cranes his neck a little so he can look down at you more easily.

God, he’s tall. And he smells good, and his face is perfect, and that goddamn polo...

“Good, I’m glad. I don’t want you to feel bad about this. I’m not uncomfortable, it’s not… it’s not unwanted.” You swallow audibly, looking up at him, wondering if he knows what he’s saying, what it sounds like.

“It’s not?” you ask, and it comes out breathy; he takes a small step closer to you, brushes his fingers over your arm, peers into your eyes.

“No, it’s not. I’ve been thinking of you, too; I know you know you’re beautiful, but you’re also so smart, and strong-willed, and a force to be reckoned with. I’m proud to have you on my team, and I’d be proud… to have you climb me like a tree.” He smiles again, just the barest hint of one, and you put your arms around him and pull him closer for a kiss.

One long, slow, perfect kiss turns into another, then another, and he presses your back against the counter, his hands on your face and your hands on his thick waist; you hum into the kiss, revel in the feel of his lips on yours, his tongue sweeping past them, and when you pull back for air it feels like there’s only one question that needs to be asked.

“Bedroom?” you breathe, and he nods, and you take his hand and pull him in that direction, pausing to kiss him several times before you get there. “You don’t happen to have a condom, do you?” you ask, breathless, guiding him to the bed, and he frowns, shakes his head.

“I didn’t want to seem presumptuous.” You grin at that, lean forward and kiss him, your fingers in his hair.

“I find it so hot that you even say presumptuous. I might have one here somewhere.” You open your nightstand, move around books and toys until you find a couple; you flip them over, checking to see if they’re expired, and offer him a couple options. “They’re still good, surprisingly. You can, uh. Choose the one that would work best.”

He looks them over, picks one and hands back the rest, and you throw them back in the drawer and slide into his lap, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says, holding your waist as you look down at him, completely in awe that this is happening. “But I want to clarify: if you’re looking for something casual, I don’t think we should go any further.” You inhale softly, surprised by his straightforwardness, and you lean in, kiss him slowly.

“I don’t want casual. I want to be with you.” His eyes are so brilliant, dark in the dim light of your bedroom, and he nods, presses his lips to yours and slides his hands beneath your top, guides it over your head. Then they move to your shorts, slipping them gently off your hips, and you stand so he can push them to the ground.

You’re both breathing heavily, a little rough, and you step between his legs, kiss him again, run your hands down his chest, closing your eyes with a sigh because you finally get to feel him after a year of just imagining what it would be like. After a beat, you open your eyes, look into his, smile.

“Really grateful for Casual Friday,” you whisper. “Otherwise you might never have found out I’m kind of in love with you.” You ease the polo over his head, drop it on the ground and encourage him to stand so you can take off his pants; he does, but before you can drop to your knees as planned, he takes your face in his hands, presses one soft kiss against your mouth.

“I’m more than kind of in love with you.” Oh, if that isn’t the greatest sentence your ears have ever heard… You wrap your arms around his neck, kiss a little more, forgetting that you planned to finish undressing him; when you remember, you make quick work of it, then have him lay back against the bed and settle between his legs.

You put your mouth on him because you want to, more than anything, and his hand drops to your hair, caressing you while you suck slowly, deeply, holding him with one hand and pressing against his stomach with the other. His moans are soft and gorgeous, his body tense beneath your hand, and you’d do this all night, but he murmurs your name, coaxes you up, puts his hands on your back as you settle against him.

“You’re so incredible. I never would have imagined I’d get this, get you,” he breathes, skimming his hands over your sides and hips, and you kiss softly, steamy and sweet.

“Me neither.” You lean up, make space for him to roll on the condom, and then press him inside; your breath hitches, and so does his, and you lay on top of him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, arms around each other tightly while you move. “Hmm. Aaron,” you sigh, hair falling around him, and he groans, digs his fingertips into your hips.

“Sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth.” You smile, but it slips away when he surges up to kiss you, leans up so he’s sitting with you in his lap. He slides a broad hand up your back, wraps it around the nape of your neck, and pumps his hips up as you sink down, eliciting a series of soft, eager moans from the both of you.

“Feels like I’ve waited so long; I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I wanted you,” you tell him, chest heaving, and he brings you to him for a kiss, something a little rougher, less refined. He’s getting close.

“Never. You make me feel so much.” You reach back against his leg for support, work harder to bring him off, and when he comes he crushes his mouth against yours, delicious and more uncontrolled than you’ve ever seen him. He chants your name, so soft and sweet rolling off of his tongue, and then gets you on your back so he can press deeply inside.

You feel so incredibly full, panting beneath him, your hands on his waist and your feet on the backs of his thighs; his perfect face is inches from yours, all shallow breaths and decadent, passionate kisses, and when you climax you pull him closer, sigh, unravel completely in his embrace.

Maybe good things do happen after all. You hold each other and talk for a while, after a quick pitstop to the restroom, and then your stomach growls—understandably, since the only thing to fill it since lunch was that stupid cheesecake—and Hotch orders takeout on his phone from bed; god bless technology.

There’s a knock at the door twenty minutes later, and you know that’s quick for your favorite Thai place, but you’re not complaining because you’re officially starving. He offers to grab it, throws on his boxers and heads for the living room; after a few minutes, you wonder what’s taking so long, pull on your robe and go to check on him.

Hotch is talking to Derek, who is standing in your living room with a piece of cheesecake and a shit eating grin.

“I came with a peace offering, but now I think I’ll wait for a, ‘Thank you, Derek,’” he says, and you roll your eyes, stalk over and take the cheesecake out of his hands. You give it to Hotch, lean up to kiss Derek on the cheek, and push him toward the door.

“Thank you, Derek. Go away, Derek,” you say with a smile of your own, and he raises his palms and retreats down the hall, laughing as he goes.

This is just one more thing he’ll tease you mercilessly about, but this time the benefits outweigh the costs. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner