#afraid of making her actually unlikable and BAD

[julianscarcass]

.

[floralcrematorium]

i open CSP

miss ukraine only needs to be rendered,,, and i already started,,,

i close CSP and get in bed.

tomorrow,,,,,

[thekinslayed]

A Kitten Among Dragons

summary | In an attempt to close their growing distance, Aemond visits his sweet sister to find her accompanied by a furry friend.

pairing | prince regent!aemond targaryen x younger sister!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! v innocent reader, dry humping, making out, aemond teaches his sister dirty things 🫢, slight manipulation, big bad aemond creams his pants LMAO

wordcount | 3.4k

note | this idea came after my heavy disappointment of not having the cats included in the show mixed with the hc that peepaw def favors his granddaughters :) didn't intend this for be this smutty, but i got carried away oopsie

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated! (divider graphic link)

It was hard to deny that Aemond had neglected you as of late. Between organizing battle strategies with Cole, sitting on his brother’s council, and dealing with his own... problems, the second son hadn’t so much spared a brief visit to his younger sister to check on her wellbeing. It was a notion so unlikely of him, you were his favorite after all. This headache of a war was driving them apart, and he would be direly bereft if he would lose you next. Anyone but you. 

But duty was always calling, even more frequent now that he was regent. Hence, as soon as he had dismissed his council, his feet led him quickly to your door. What greeted him was most certainly a surprise, with you on your knees on the floor, bent over while fixating on something underneath your bed.

“Come, kitty! Why do you hide? There is nothing to be afraid of!”

When his initial shock had surpassed, his confusion promptly followed. Aemond cleared his throat, gathering your attention. You turned your head to look at him, greeting him with a quick “Oh hello, Aemy”, before returning your attention to the floor. Your arm was buried underneath the wooden frame in an attempt to reach the little creature, making you huff in exertion.

“What are you up to, my sweet?” your brother asked, approaching your kneeling form. He was tempted to mirror your position to take a peek, but he remained standing. 

“I– Gods, hold on, I can feel her. Come on, little one!”

His brow raised when you finally pulled out the critter from beneath your bed, a triumphant smile spreading on your face. It must have been one of the cats brought by Otto after Aegon had hung all of the ratcatchers. They were littered about the keep, some quite diligent with actually catching vermin while most merely hung about and shat everywhere. Such creatures did not interest Aemond, hence the look of contempt on his face at the one you carried like a babe. 

It was a furry little thing, fur white as snow, but its paws gray as though they were dipped in ash. A green ribbon was tied around its neck, no doubt of your doing. “Why are you keeping one of those things? They are not to be pets,” he scolded, which earned him a frown from you.

“She is my pet. Grandsire gave her to me before he left,” you reasoned, sulkily walking away to plop down on your chaise. Your brother had followed suit, settling beside you to watch you play with the feline on your lap. It looked to be quite young, quivering on its frail legs in an attempt to stand. You watched it with a fond smile, stroking its soft fur. “I have little companion as of late, though she has kept me quite entertained,” you told him.

He couldn’t deny the pang of guilt at your words. Before the war, you had been practically glued to the hip. His days were spent by your side, in the quiet aisles of the library, under the warm sun in the gardens, even in the skies with Vhagar. You would wake early enough to catch him training in the yard, before sharing a meal immediately after. Aemond was your constant companion, your fiercest protector. The war had changed much of that, and he was the only one to blame. 

The prince scooted closer to your side, breathing in your sweet scent. It was one he dearly missed, had thought about on the journey from his victory in battle. “I am sorry, sister. ‘Tis my fault, I have neglected you too much,” he said, covering your hand with his calloused palm. The sparing glance you bestowed him was an arrow straight to his heart, and a stab to his soul when you pulled away, lowering to sit on the floor to play with your kitten instead. It was silent, save for the quiet giggles that bubbled from your lips as it chased the frilly handkerchief you dangled around. 

He figured you were right to keep your space from him, to save yourself from being tainted by his blood-stained hands. You were so good, so pure. You were the best of all of them. It was by some miracle that an innocent being like you was born into their sludgy, miserable lot. You were saved from the madness of a Targaryen, and the greed of a Hightower. No, you were formed from the Mother’s rib, brought into the world with lightness and purity. 

His mother was right to keep you sheltered away, brought devoutly under the faith of the Seven so you may be guided into the righteous path. Perhaps they just might spare you from this brutality, this hell. They may have not saved poor Helaena, but Aemond prayed there was still hope for you. 

A little feline was what you are, in a den full of dragons. Despite the dragonfire in your blood, the egg in your cradle did not hatch. It only hardened into stone after years of hoping, of fruitless waiting. It was what tethered you to Aemond in the first place, forming a formidable bond in your shared isolation. And then he claimed Vhagar, had lost his eye, and then he was not the same. You remained devoted to him regardless, uncaring of cutting yourself on his sharp edges. He was all broken glass, and you were the most pristine porcelain no hand could ever forge. 

“They have brought Aegon back, haven’t they?” you asked quietly, still focused on your cat. Aemond helplessly stared at the back of your head, clenching his fist to prevent the urge to caress your head. You wanted your space, and he would respect that.

“Yes, have you gone to see him?” he replied, to which you responded with a shake of your head. “No?” Your pale tresses swayed with your movement, light and soft like feathers. You had ceased waving the embroidered cloth in your hand, fidgeting with its laces instead. Aemond could only watch as you shifted to hug your knees, head dipping. 

“I am frightened,” you whispered. 

“Of what?” he asked in concern.

“That I won’t be able to recognize him.” Your words made him pause with an odd throb in between his ribs. There was no doubt the state of unrepair the elder was in. All marred flesh, and broken bones. He had lost half a head of hair, and his right ear melted like the Conqueror’s armor that had been plastered to his flesh. It was no sight for you to gaze upon. 

Aemond had a hand in his brother’s agony, there was no denying it. But the fool was in his way. Aegon had been told to do one thing, and yet he had failed to even accomplish such a simple task. He was not needed on the field, nor anywhere else, really. Rook’s Rest was not his battle to fight, but Aemond’s. Although, the younger might have him to thank in the grand scheme of things. His brother’s idiocy made him regent, protector of the realm. Aemond had expected you to be proud of him, to be the first to run into his arms in glee with his new position, but you couldn’t be any farther away from him now.

“My own family has felt like strangers as of late. Mother won’t let me come to the Sept with her anymore, Helaena hasn’t been herself since….” you mentioned, finally turning to face him. Though it had only been as quick as a blink, for you have reclused yourself once more, returning your gaze to your pet. It was amusing itself now, rolling around on the embroidered carpet while wiggling its legs. “I scarcely recognize you.”

His frown deepened at your words, even more so at your indifference. It was true. He had not been himself as of late. He had let his weakness get to him, had allowed his temper to go unmanaged. In a pathetic attempt at reprieve, he let his feet lead him to a place that had scarred him, to a person whom he sought a false sense of comfort. She would never give him that, nor the touch that would effectively soothe him. He had only ever found it in one person, in you. Yet he would not begrudge you, despite all his greed.

But Aemond was weak for all that you would give him, if any at all. He could never go long without the sweet home he found in your arms, in every kiss you would bestow on his scars. In a bold attempt, he reached forward to place his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly. “I am still me, hāedar,” he said, gentle and warm. Such manner of speech was unlike the cold, one-eyed Kinslayer, but here, in the quiet of your chambers, he was neither of those things. Not in your presence. A budding hope only ever sparked brighter when you met his good eye, wide-eyed like a doe. You had mother’s eyes, beautifully round, yet none of the sorrow that dampened her brown orbs. Aemond could only hope it stayed that way. 

You leaned into his touch when he cupped your jaw, pressing a soft kiss into the inside of his wrist. It was then your brother finally sank to the floor, sitting flush beside you. With a gentle urge, he opened his arms, beckoning you closer. You were all too eager to bury yourself into his warmth, arms finding their home around his neck. Your melancholic sigh wisped the ends of his hair while he planted a kiss on yours, aquiline nose breathing in the familiar scent of rosemary in your hair. “I prayed for you, lēkia,” you mumbled, lips pressed into the pale expanse of his neck. Your warmth was immediately missed as soon as you pulled away to look at him. “I prayed the gods would protect you in battle, and they did,” you told him, to which he smiled at fondly. Though it was shortlived, for you had frowned at the thought of your other brother who laid in your father’s bed, barely holding onto his life. “Though I hadn’t prayed enough for Aegon, and look what happened to him now.”

Tears had started to dampen the corner of your eyes in a flash, lips quivering downwards. One had been traitorous enough to roll down your cheek, leaving its trail on your flesh. Aemond was quick to wipe it away with his thumb. Large, calloused hands cupped your face, urging you to look at him. “No, sweetling,” he soothed, planting a kiss on your cheek. Thin lips caught every salty droplet that escaped your eyes, shushing the sob that had you hiccuping. Your brother pulled you in close, flush to his chest, to his heart. The heart that only ever beat for you. “Be easy on yourself, sister. The gods have decided our brother’s fate, there is naught else you could’ve done.” His tone was firm as he spoke, though never harsh. With a sniffle, you nodded, before planting a kiss on Aemond’s cheek, a sign of your silent gratitude. The small touch alone had warmed his entire being, had his blood running hotter than it already did. It was agonizing that you remained unaware of what you do to him, of how easily you could make him weak. He could only sigh as you planted your forehead against his. “C-can you do that again?” he whispered. “Please?”

You obliged, planting a kiss on his cheek, then one on the other side. His arm kept you close, silently urging you to swing your leg over his hips to straddle his lap. His loins were starting to stir underneath your warmth, only taking a mere second the moment he felt your weight. Such was your power. You continued to pepper kisses across his face, unaware of how your brother could feel the pulsating from your pearl. With a tilt of your head, you pressed your lips against his in a peck, taking him by surprise. “Aemy,” you had said against his lips. A dreamy hum was his only response, his good eye closed from the dizzy haze you left him. “Do you suppose we could try what you taught me last time?” 

The devil between your thighs resisted the urge to smirk at your request, oozing with desire. He raised a brow at you in question, tilting his head to the side. “Last time?” he asked, feigning curiosity. You bit your lip timidly, absentmindedly trailing your fingertip in circles on his collar. 

“Yes, when you showed me how to…” you trailed off, looking at him with hope. 

“How to what, darling? Tell me,” he urged. You shifted about in his lap, timidly looking away. A squeeze on your hips encouraged you to use your words. “To do that thing with… with my tongue.”

Aemond’s grin widened at your words, utterly triumphant. With a nod, he urged you closer, reconnecting his lips to yours. He started with a simple kiss, then with a thumb on your chin, he propped your mouth open and his tongue slithered into your warm cavern. It had prompted you to do the same, following his lead by licking into his mouth. The hot muscle was quite rough with the little dots that functioned to make you taste, and he had such a distinct flavor that felt quite different from your own.

You tried to keep up with his pace, adorably enough, visibly out of breath once you both pulled away. Your cheeks held a slight tinge of a flush, running straight across the bridge of your nose. Aemond pinched your cheek between his fingers, nudging his nose against yours. “You are quite good, sister,” he teased, chuckling amusedly when you blushed. Your lips stayed connected for longer, exchanging tongues and spit in an easy, unrushed manner that made Aemond feel woozy as though his body was lightened by poppy milk. Through the blissful fog he found himself in, the silver-haired prince started to feel your hips squirm, subconsciously rubbing against his cock.

With a whine, you pulled yourself away. “It hurts,” you frowned, brows furrowing in confusion.

“What hurts, my love?” he asked, ignoring the thumping in his ears in anticipation. He had to be patient in his efforts, calm, lest he scare you away.

Your fingertips found the hem of your skirts, lifting the green fabric to your hips to expose your smallclothes. A damp spot had created a mark in between your thighs, glistening with your arousal. Aemond gulped, resisting the urge to palm the growing stiffness in his breeches at that moment.

Gods, you were going to be the death of him.

“Does it always hurt?” he asked, mouth growing dry at the sight of you. 

“No, but it did the last time we did this. Though it has grown quite uncomfortable this time around,” you pouted. 

What a sweet, innocent little thing you were. There was no doubt you held no knowledge about these things. Your sheltered upbringing and strict lessons from the Septa have left you thinking that the ways of the flesh are of sin, only to be done between man and wife. But gods, there was a world out there Aemond wished to show you. Mother would have to forgive him for many things he has done, including teaching his sister such debauchery. Better him than anyone else, he supposed.

“I can help take that pain away if you want,” he offered. 

“Won’t that be wrong, brother? Septa Luelle said—”

“I know, sweetheart, but it won’t be anything like that, I promise.” Your eyes flickered to look into his good eye as you contemplated, resolve crumbling with the comforting smile he offered you. It only widened as you nodded, his slim cheeks dimpling in satisfaction. His hand on the small of your back urged you to press your weight back onto his lap, guiding hands shifting your hips back and forth. You had gasped upon contact, amazed at the stiffness that had grown in between his thighs. 

“Were you hurting too, Aemy?” you asked, worry painting your features. Aemond bit back a groan, nodding his head meekly.

“A bit, but I am starting to feel better, sister. All thanks to you,” he responded. His words made you smile, encouraging you to move your hips at your own pace. You mewled, throwing your head back in delight. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

With a furious nod, your hips quickened as the funny feeling in your tummy grew. You held onto Aemond’s shoulders to steady yourself, while your brother rested his head on the chaise’s cushioned edge. It was soon evident you were growing tired of using your thighs, and so he planted his feet firm onto the floor, and Aemond’s hips lifted to meet yours. Your arousal had started to stain the front of his breeches, dampening the dark fabric with your cunny’s tears. The thought of tasting it on his tongue was enough to make his cock jump in his trousers, his tip no doubt weeping tears of its own. How wonderful it would be to get a taste of your sweet ambrosia. 

“A-aemond…” you moaned, burying your head into his neck. You held onto him as though you were about to drown, clutching onto the smooth leathers of his doublet like a lifeline. Your release must be steadily approaching, apparent in the steady whines that fell freely from your lips. It began to grow in volume, and Aemond had planted his lips back onto yours to swallow down your moans.

You lapped at him with desperation, spit smearing past your lips, though neither of you cared. Your release broke through you with little forewarning, coming with a cry of his name. Aemond had always thought you beautiful, but as your eyes screwed shut and your jaw fell slack, he was sure there was no other mortal being who could ever come close to your beauty. You looked like a goddess reborn, with your flushed cheeks and glistening lips. The sight of you alone drove him to his end, creaming his trousers like a pubescent boy. It left a clear stain on his trousers, yet he cared little.

“That felt quite nice, won’t you say?” he asked, equally dazed from the high of his release. You bit your lip, nodding, before burying your head into his chest with a giggle. Satisfied, Aemond caressed your back comfortingly, planting small kisses into your hairline.

There was no way for him to ever let go of you, not when he had you moaning his name so sweetly like this. You were his and his alone, his little kitten. He would find a way to make your union happen, to have you both married under the eyes of the Seven before his enemies’ corpses go cold. Hells, he would marry you now, if you wanted. He would find a Septon the moment you asked for it, or have the robes readied if you wished for a ceremony done by your Valyrian ancestors. He would do it all, and he can, now that he was regent. Mother would surely be displeased, with the growing animosity between her and Aemond, and the fierce protectiveness she held for her youngest daughter. But she would have to accept it either way. Who else was more suited to be your husband but he? Aemond would rather see the realm burn twice than have you married off to some insignificant lord. No, none else would hold a truer love for you than him alone. It’s been proven by the gods deeming it fit to intertwine his soul with yours. 

A scratching by his side had pulled him from his reverie, turning to find your little feline. You took her into your arms with a coo, practically shoving the furry thing into Aemond’s face with a grin.

“Pet her,” you urged gleefully. You stayed settled on his lap, much to his delight. Aemond shook his head to refuse, but he could never really deny you, could he? Sighing, he caressed the cat, scratching the spot in between its ears per your instruction. It purred with his touch, reminding the dragonrider of his mount whenever he would do the same with her maw.

“Hm, she’s quite like Vhagar,” he mused. It didn’t take long for him to enjoy playing with the furry thing, spending the rest of the remaining daylight by your side.

Perhaps cats weren’t so bad.

[sweetsexyspirit]

Jinx x reader

- Jesus fucking christ this woman is actually so fine in season 2. I didn't expect this.

- ⚠️ : Contains spoilers of S2, No nsfw, affectionate stuff and nice jinx. Headcanons of jinx I have during s2. May seem unrealistic but I'm going by all I can sense.

- After Silco's tragic death, Jinx certainly had changed alot. The girl who was never afraid of taking risks was becoming almost invisible.

- First thing you noticed about her after Silco's death was the way she was more calm. She wouldn't hallucinate that terribly anymore. Sometimes during nights she would wake up due to nightmares.

- Overall, she was calmer. There wasn't anyone trying to manipulate her anymore and make her worse and you were not a bad person.

- Your relationship was once riskfull, chaotic and full of arguments. You and jinx would get into alot of disagreements at first but now..

- She had turned more quite, She used her body to express herself more instead of words, She had became more affectionate and last but not least, silently obsessed with you.

- Not that she was never obsessed with you. Not a day would go on and without her questioning "Are you going to leave me?" Plus, more careful and it felt like she was everywhere with you even if she wasn't physically there.

- She would show her affections through small gestures, sometimes holding your thumb or pinky finger, sometimes putting her hand lightly on your back and sometimes giving you small pecks on different part of your body.

- During the nights, she would be the most affectionate. Holding you close to her, you were afraid anymore pressure from her and you would break.

- Unlike how you thought, she wouldn't cry infront of you about Silco. Not only that, she would comfort you all the time as if her own pains had never existed.

- After Isha's grand entrance to you guys' lives, She went on full mom mode. Not only for Isha, but you too. You would sometimes find it funny how she would become worried for Isha or you.

- With Isha entering her life, she became even nicer and happier. She definitely awoke Jinx's innerchild and you definitely didn't know how to thank the little girl for simply falling on Jinx.

- A crazy, manipulated, afraid and frustrated jinx was now anything but those words.

[gachagon]

Ena's are treated by others based on how capable they are

Yesterday I played through the entirety of Ena Dream BBQ and it was the most fun and surreal time I'd ever had playing a video game since I played OFF.

After I finished it though, I couldn't help but think about how Ena was treated as some kind of dangerous, menacing entity that has the potential for harm from the other entities in the game. Everyone in the game either treats Ena as if she is a troublemaker or someone who is too dangerous to be left by herself or to be alone with. Which is strange because Dream BBQ Ena never does anything like that to anyone in the game.

So why does everyone hate Ena? I think it has to do with the idea that Meanie/Salesperson Ena is way more *capable* and aware than the Classic!Ena from the youtube series.

Meanie/Salesperson Ena is more proactive and is able to advocate for herself, and even has a job (which shocks a some of the characters when they learn that this Ena has a job lol) Meanie/Salesperson Ena is much more capable of doing "bad" things or harm then the Classic Ena we see in the show.

Classic Ena seems to lose control over her "sad" side a lot even if she's not really sad. And sometimes when she *is* sad, it becomes too much and literally makes her ill.

A lot of the characters in the youtube series aren't afraid of this Ena though they do still want her to leave them alone anyways. Nobody is panicked or frightened or even a little bit wary of this Ena because she doesn't even really have control over her own emotions, and she falls apart at the slightest bit of adversity.

And as far as I'm aware this Ena doesn't have a "job" like Dream BBQ Ena does. Meaning I don't think someone other than Moonie has trusted her to do things for them. No one gives her any kind of hard responsibility and once they see how out of control she is over herself, many of the entities seem to relax around her even though she's an Ena.

I know some people have been saying what if the reason Ena's are so mistreated is because they were maybe made to cause trouble or to harm other entities, but I think it's more so that Ena's have the potential to cause harm based off of how capable they are and how in control they are of themselves.

Classic!Ena is not able to pull herself together most of the time and it seems to take a great deal of strength to reel back in her "sad" side. Her sad side also doesn't seem to speak rationally and demeans herself, unlike how Meanie/Salesperson clearly talk and are always on the same subject most of the time. I think for the other entities if you knew Ena's were bad news for some reason and you met one who could barely walk straight because of how "sad" she was all the time, you'd probably think the Ena who's 100% in control of *both* sides to be a little spookier because now you're messing with a person who can seriously do harm to you somehow.

I also think Meanie/Salesperson is aware of this dichotomy between different Ena's thus why they constantly have to reassure other people that they're not doing any kind of "sketchy" or bad things. Entities have probably treated this Ena way worse in the past just because of being an Ena, and being capable and more aware most likely didn't actually help with trying to get people to trust her more.

Meanie/Salesperson might also not be quite as innocent as we may think based off of the ending of chapter 1 because in the end they do kind of "destroy" everything, and in the end the only person who comes out of it okay is Ena.

We don't actually know what their job really is, lol but them having a job at all was enough for a lot of the entities to just trust them to do things for them. I think the fact that Meanie/Salesperson Ena was able to complete their task at all and come out of it okay, kind of proves that maybe the entities in the Uncanny Valley were right to be a little wary because now the Uncanny Valley is gone thanks to Ena turning the smoke off T_T

[finelinevogue]

Hi i was wondering if you could write an aaron hotchner fic where the reader gets really bad anxiety and Hotch is always there for them? Maybe like established relationship?

“drop the sir”

yes yes yes - my new loml aaron hotchner <3

cw: i guess this is shy!reader | anxiety | reader scratches their hands | she/her pronouns used | no established relationship sorry! i wanted this to be a developmental thing

word count - ~1.5k

The first time that Aaron noticed your anxiety was on your first day at the BAU.

He had remembered you from the internship programme where he had shown you around the place. One afternoon with you and he had known that you deserved a place amongst the team here. It was no surprise that 6 months later - after your internship - that you were hired full-time.

You had walked into the BAU, bag hanging on your shoulder and you had clasped it like it was your lifeline.

Aaron had noticed you all the way across the room from his office. He had been speaking to Reid, but soon paid no attention to what the genius was saying as he watched you nervously look around the room like you were out of place.

He'd gone over to you instantly, wanting to be the first person to reach you.

"Y/N?" He had asked, holding out his hand for you to shake.

It didn't go unnoticed the slight tremble to your hand as you reached out to give his a shake, accompanied with a nervous smile.

"Agent Hotchner, Sir." You nodded.

"You might wanna drop the 'Sir', it'll go straight to his head otherwise." Garcia said in passing as she walked past you both.

You chuckled as you shook your bosses hand. He had a firm grasp. They were firm and calloused, but somehow made you feel like you were in safe company. After he let go you felt disappointed, although you still had the pleasure of looking at him - standing in front of you in a clean suit and his hands in his trouser pockets.

"She's right." Aaron smirked, before resetting to his normal stoic face.

"Am I in the right place?" You asked.

"If you're asking that question then I'm afraid we might've hired the wrong person."

"O-oh, no.. I-"

"I'm joking." He gave a small smile, making you breath out a sigh of relief. You really hadn't wanted to get fired on your first day.

Luckily for you, Aaron had caught onto the fact you were nervous and made sure you knew he was only teasing you. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy. Starting a new job was difficult, he knew that, and nerves were high - he wanted to make sure that you felt as comfortable as possible whilst settling in.

"Didn't realise you made those." Garcia said, walking passed again.

"Garcia, don't you have a job to do." Aaron said, using his usual frowny face unlike the one he'd been using with you.

"Yes, Sir." Garcia said, walking away with a smirk.

"Welcome to the BAU."

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

It wasn't until someone brought you up in conversation that he thought about your shyness for the second time.

"So what do you think of the newbie?" Morgan asked, making a coffee. Aaron seriously questioned whether Morgan actually did any work around here seeing how often he caught him hanging around the coffee machine.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah."

Aaron looked out of the break room kitchen and across the room to where you were sat at your desk.

It had been a week since you've joined and you'd been really involved with helping with paperwork so far. Your supervisor had been teaching you various bits of information throughout the week, but Aaron was wondering whether they were wasting your capabilities by having you stuck at a desk constantly.

He'd also noticed how quiet you were.

You never initiated conversation at someone else's desk, only ever if they came to you first. You never left your desk for random breaks, you just kept your head down and did your paperwork. He'd seen you in the break room maybe once and that was only to make a drink.

"Shy." Aaron responded. "Quiet."

"Reid said she's done twice as much paperwork as Catherine and she's been here 5 weeks less than Catherine."

"Well, Catherine is a waste of space." Aaron said honestly, causing Morgan to choke a little on his coffee from his bluntness - not that he disagreed.

"Well what do you think?"

Aaron turned from watching you chew on the ends of your pen to face Morgan, who had been watching him the whole time instead of you.

"I think she'll be interesting." Morgan smirked into his coffee.

"For what?"

"No, buddy." Morgan patted Aaron's back. "For who?"

Morgan left the room with Aaron frowning in confusion.

You'd be interesting for who?

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

Aaron was known to have a quick temper, but no one had seen him quite like this.

"Missing files!" He shouted around the room. "No one is leaving this building until someone can tell me where they are."

Aaron ran a stressed hand over his jaw.

The room was silent except for the humming background noise that the air conditioning was making. People were nervous to look at their boss, much less look up from where they were hiding against themselves.

You in particular were shaking like a leaf in the wind.

You had covered your sweater over your hands to stop the urge to scratch away at your hands - as you often did when your anxiety spiked. Your hands were often scabbed, scarred and quite frankly... ugly from where you'd subconsciously scratched away at your skin. A habit that had stemmed from younger years.

"Who was working on the New Orleans case last?" Aaron asked.

Everyone was silent - no one dared to speak up.

A pit dropped in your stomach. You had been working on those files a couple of weeks ago, maybe even in your first week of the job. Catherine had been helping you organise a bunch of files and you'd spotted a mistake in the paperwork for the New Orleans case. She had said to leave it to one side and that you could come back to it later. You'd assumed the paperwork had been changed, corrected and put back but now you're not so sure.

"Anyone? Someone must have?" Aaron asked again, his patience wearing thin.

"Y/N was, Agent Hotchner." Caroline spoke up from where she was stood near you.

Your heart went then, pounding against your chest. Your mouth went dry and you could feel your body start to heat up.

There was a part of you that wanted to bring Caroline down with you, but you were only new here and you were terrified of stepping on anyone's toes. You hadn't even chatted with anyone in the break room yet in case you started chatting to someone who didn't want to talk to you.

You looked around the room, lots of faces staring back at you.

You felt like you were going to stop breathing. The situation was far too overwhelming.

Worst of all was when you looked at your boss. He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling in stress before he returned his gaze to you.

"Y/N. My office, 5 minutes."

As soon as Aaron walked off and back to his office the rest of the room started up with hushed conversations. You could feel people looking at you, probably for the last time since you were no doubt about to be fired.

It was embarrassing.

You didn't dare sit back down at your desk, afraid you'd get told off for that.

Caroline gave you a pitying look as if to say 'should've-been-more-careful' and in the deepest of your heart you really wanted to call her out on it. It was her mistake too and she'd been training you. It seemed a little unfair to pin this all on you.

Nevertheless you walked your way slowly towards Aaron’s office.

Your hands unwound themselves from your sleeves and your right one started scratching the skin on your left one.

You only notice when you start scratching, not the continuation of it so it quickly dropped out of your mind that you were doing it.

You knocked on Aaron’s door twice.

“Come in.”

You made your way inside, shutting the door behind you and coming to stand in front of his desk.

He was sat in his chair behind his desk, paperwork everywhere. It looked chaotic and disorganised - much like he was probably feeling.

Aaron looked at you with his piercing eyes, no doubt profiling his way through this situation.

You tried to maintain eye contact but you lasted all of three seconds before your eyes turned to your hands - which were now red raw from the scratching.

“I need you to quit that.” He spoke in a neutral tone.

You looked up at him, eyes a little blurry from where the tears wanted to fall but you refused to let them. You nodded in understanding.

“Sure.” You swallowed the hard lump in the back of your throat, “Would you like be gone by the end of the day o-or, like, in ten minutes time, because I can pack my stuff up in –.”

“Y/N.” Aaron tried to cut in.

“—a few minutes. I just need to…”

“Y/N.” Aaron stood up.

He rounded the desk and stood a mere metre in front of you. You braved to look at him and noticed how sad his eyes looked. Those sad brown eyes looked at you so softly, whilst his eyebrows couldn’t decide whether to furrow or stay straight.

That’s when you noticed his hand outreaching towards yours, ever so slowly with an almost hesitation.

“Stop, please.” He said very quietly.

You looked down to where his hands were meeting yours and you understood what he had meant now. He hadn’t meant quit quit, he had meant quit scratching your hands.

“Sorry.” You quickly held your hands down by your sides, refusing to draw more attention to it.

Aaron’s hand retracted, but some part of you wondered what it would have felt like if his skin had touched yours again.

Would it have felt as warm as you remembered? Or would it feel more electric this time?

The room was quiet but you knew Aaron was waiting for you to speak.

“Agent Hotchner, um.. Sir.” You cleared your throat before looking at his eyes, so he could tell you were speaking the truth, “I didn’t lose those files, Sir.”

You stood your ground, not allowing your anxiety to take over this conversation.

Aaron nodded his head.

“I know.” He said with a small smile.

“You do?”

“Dr Reid messaged me somewhat 30 seconds before you came in here, notifying me that the files were found in the paper bin closest to Caroline’s desk. They’d been filled out and filed incorrectly, am I right?” He waited for you to nod before continuing, “And you spotted the mistake? Caroline pulled the files to the side, I assume and made it look like you’d messed up.”

“Yes. Sorry, yes Sir.”

Aaron nodded his head.

“Y/N, why did you let Caroline use you like that?” Aaron asked, crossing his hands over his chest.

You looked down, ashamed with yourself.

“I don’t know, Sir. I guess, maybe it’s because I’m still new here?”

Aaron made his way back around his desk, allowing you to breathe without his shadow enveloping you. It was a weird thing to note that you sort of missed his near presence though.

He made his way to sit back down, leaving you standing with nothing to say or do.

Aaron picked up the phone and dialled in his assistant.

“Hi, yeah. Could you let Caroline know I want to speak to her in my office in ten minutes. Mhm. Yeah. Yeah, no, tell her it’s to do with her redundancy.”

You tried not to gasp or looked shocked when Aaron put down the phone abruptly, but hearing that Caroline was being fired for her mistake was quite the turn of events. She was no doubt going to think you tattled, too, when actually in fact Aaron is just a damn good profiler.

“You’re free to get back to work, Y/N.” He gave you a curt smile.

“T-thank you.”

You gave him the best smile you could, before you turned to walk out of his office.

You could feel his gaze on you but you didn’t turn until he called your name a final time.

“Y/N?”

“Sir?”

“You’re doing a good job here. Keep it up, just drop the Sir - It’s Hotch.”

Both you and Aaron were smiling as you left the room.

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

[BONUS]

You started the day by finding a gift bag on your desk.

Looking around the room you tried to catch someone’s attention to figure out who was behind this. Was it some cruel prank or was it a real gesture? Ever since Caroline had been fired people had been nicer to you, almost thanking you for initiating her leave.

Before unpacking your bag or even taking off your coat you removed the tissue paper from the bag and unwrapped the small box inside.

You came across a small white box, rectangular in shape with cellophane wrapped around it.

You turned the box over until you noticed the name and contents; ‘Smoothing Hand Cream - Sensitive & Kind to All Skin Types’.

There was only one person who could have bought you this.

You quickly turned to Hotch’s office and saw him standing at his door with a coffee in hand. He nodded at you and gave you a smile with teeth - something that was very rare.

Something that was more meaningful than a tube of hand cream.

[universefcb]

Can you do a lamine story where his gf is hesitant about him buying her stuff because she doesn’t want people to think she likes him for his money but he reassures her that he actually likes buying her things and will defend her if anybody says anything to her?🫠🫠🫠🫠

All for you

Pairing: Lamine Yamal X gf!reader

Summary: You're dating, and he loves giving you expensive gifts. But lately you've been feeling bad about helping people think you're with him for the money.

Warning: Mention of y/n, fluff

Author's note: I got tired of just black, now I'm using colors similar to the photos, because the black coloring is irritating me because it looks too dark in the photos.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Ever since Lamine Yamal started dating her, his life had taken on a new glow. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before—with her, everything felt lighter. More real. But with that came the inevitable complications of having a public relationship, even if they tried to keep it discreet.

That afternoon, he showed up at her house with a mischievous smile and a designer bag in his hand. It was a gift, yet another one, that he had bought with enthusiasm when thinking about her. A delicate necklace, with a small heart-shaped pendant. Something that, in his mind, would have been just a loving gesture. But when she saw it, she hesitated.

"Lamine…" she began, biting her lower lip, without even opening the box yet. "You didn't have to."

He chuckled, coming closer and placing the bag on the coffee table.

"I know I didn't have to. But I wanted to."

She looked away, uncomfortable.

"I just… I'm afraid of what people will think. They'll say I'm with you because of interest… because of your money." Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "I don't want people to think that about me. You know that's not why."

Lamine frowned, moving even closer until he held her face gently between his hands.

"I know," he said firmly, looking into her eyes. "And that's why I'm comfortable giving you the things I do. Because I know you're not with me because of that. I know who you are."

She took a deep breath, moved by the direct way he spoke. But Lamine didn't stop there.

"And if anyone says any shit about you, I'll be there. To defend them. To make it clear that it's my choice to spoil you. Because you deserve it."

She tried to contain her smile, but she couldn't. Lamine was like that—intense in his words, sincere in his feelings. He never did anything halfway.

"I just don't want to be the target of comments," she confessed, calmer now. "Sometimes I'm afraid of what people on the internet say."

"I do too," he said with a shrug. "But I'm more afraid of seeing you deprive yourself of things because of it. So let them talk. We know the truth."

She was silent for a few seconds, then reached for the bag.

"Can I open it?"

"Please, right? Otherwise I'll return it and buy something else tomorrow," he joked, making her laugh.

She opened the box carefully, and her eyes lit up when she saw the necklace. It was beautiful. Simple, but full of meaning. Just like the two of them.

She hugged him tightly, hiding her face in his neck.

"Thank you, Lamine."

"I love you," he murmured.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @merinottt @htpssgavi @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[naomi-nana]

Hopefully this isn’t too much, can i request Jade, Floyd, Riddle, and Jamil with a female reader who pretends to be a boy in NRC by using a wig and those full face mask (like Momobami Ririka’s mask from Kakegurui), they found out that reader is a female when they saw her asleep in an empty library or somewhere quiet without her mask and wig on. Thank uu and have a great day/night!

✎ᝰ. an amateur disguise . twisted wonderland

in which, you wear a mask to hide your true identity in night raven college. how would they react?

featuring : jade, floyd, riddle, jamil

cw : f!reader, jamil's is short cuz i genuinely don't know how to write his part, may be ooc, bad grammar, not proofread

a/n : helloo! hope u have a great day/night, too!! ╰(*°▽°*)╯ so sorry for taking a little too long than usual ... i lowk struggled writing this, lol. but no worries, i had fun writing regardless!! enjoy reading:)

JADE LEECH

jade is one of the few students many are afraid of, mostly because of his enigmatic nature. so when he sees you walking around in a mask, his curiosity is piqued. he tries everything to see your face beneath that mask—but to no avail.

he'd ask you questions, too. like, "name, is there a reason as to why you're wearing a mask? oh, but don't feel pressured to answer. it is never my intention to force you to tell me—i am just a curious eel, that is all."

you never really answer him, though. you always avoid his question by making up some lies. "oh, look, i have professor crewel's class after this! better get going!" then you sprint down the hallway while he looks at you, smiling to himself and thinking, "is this not the end of the day?"

when jade enters the library to return a book he has been reading, he notices someone sleeping in the library. a girl. wait, a girl? he approaches the sleeping girl slowly, leaning down just enough to examine her face.

and that's when he sees the familiar looking mask beside her head—your head. "oh?" he chuckles upon seeing it. not only do you wear a mask to hide your face, but you're actually a girl? "name, you really need to be careful as to where you put your mask."

he takes it up from the table, gently placing it on your lap to hide it from other people. "it seems like i have succeeded unraveling yet another student's secret." he chuckles again, finally leaving the library while silently wishing to himself that he gets to ask you about it.

but never mind. it's interesting to see you wearing wigs and mask to hide your true identity. he decided to keep that secret to himself.

FLOYD LEECH

when floyd first sees you, his first thought is about how strange and cool you looked with a mask on. he thinks you're like one of those vigilantes he sees in movies.

he asks many questions, too—though unlike jade, he's very blatant about it. "ne, ne~ show me what's under all that mask, shrimpy! no? but why? it's not like you're being hunted by people or somethin'. oh, but are ya actually being hunted?"

you'll have to check first before you leave your classroom because, who knows? floyd could be standing right besides the door (yes, that happened before). of course that won't work. because somehow, even if you're hiding in a top secret place, floyd will find you. creepy, but you've grown used to it.

after running around trying to find you, floyd is bored and decided to just go back to the dorm. and that's when he sees someone sleeping in the courtyard. it's a girl. "woah, no way." he mutters under his breath before approaching the sleeping girl slowly.

he'd poke the girl (is that allowed?) out of curiosity, and when she wakes up, she screams. "hey, don't start screamin'. you're scaring me!" he frowns. "you're the one scaring me with how you're so close to my face!" you yelled back.

huh. the voice sounds so familiar. "whaaat??? shrimpy, that you?? aha!~ is this why you're wearing a mask?? i wasn't expectin' ya to be a girl. what else are ya hidin'? are you actually a super secret agent, too? tell me more!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

he'd ask you if you have the permission from the headmage to wear that accessory. if you say yes, he'll let you off the hook.

he's not that curious about how your face looked like as jade and floyd are, but he does find it strange and would like to know why you wear the mask. do you perhaps have a disease? or are you some kind of a famous celebrity like vil?

so when he entered the library to borrow another volume of his favorite book and saw a girl sleeping on one of the tables, he froze. a girl? in NRC? is that allowed? is she perhaps one of the staff's daughter? questions starts to enter his mind as he's trying to find a logical answer to the unusual scene before him.

he decided that it'd be the best solution to just approach her and wake her up—mainly because he doesn't really trust the students in NRC enough to let her sleep here. and so he did just that. "a-ahem, miss ... i apologize for disturbing your nap, but i advise you to not sleep in the library. if i may ask, where do you come from?"

though when the girl literally jolts upwards and screams at the sight of riddle, he's startled. "i-i'm sorry for startling you, but please do not scream, miss. this is a library, and—ah, don't run in the library, too!" riddle sighed when she ran out the door. "honestly, why can't people just respect the rule in the library? ... hm?"

he noticed something. a mask. a very familiar mask. riddle stood still in front of the table where you once slept. "... i guess i should return this to her later ...?"

JAMIL VIPER

when he sees you wearing a mask, he paid no mind to it. he understands if you want to keep a low profile—even though wearing a mask just draws more attention to you, but he gets it. jamil has spent his entire life to be an average student, after all.

yet he can't help but feel suspicious of you. what if you're actually a problem waiting to happen? what if you're a bad person? what if you're an assassin? countless possibilities started to fill his head, but he does little to act on them.

all jamil does is observe you from afar quietly, while also occasionally talk to you. like, "if you are trying to avoid attention by keeping a low profile, wearing a full face mask does the opposite, you know?"

though when jamil walk pass an empty classroom and saw the door slightly creaked open, he can't help but take a peek. what he saw inside is a girl—you, with a mask and your wig literally laying on the table you are sleeping on.

"... figures." he mutters to himself before closing the door. the last thing jamil needs is to experience another drama just because your secret got revealed, after all.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use (with or without permission), do not recommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[artificial-transmutations]

The wedding getaway

A mile in each other's shoes

"Oh, come on, you can't be serious."

Lance groaned and looked at Lisa, the bride's maid, who in turn didn't appear all that amused either, although for different reasons. She smiled a sweet and poisonous smile as she answered.

"Yes, I am, Lance. Dead serious. Apparently, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a hotel with enough free rooms on a Caribbean island in the middle of spring break."

Before Lance could answer anything, she continued with a sharp voice.

"Or how expensive. So, yes, I'm afraid you have to share your suite with one of the other singles for the duration of your all-inclusive stay. Deal with it."

Lance took a deep breath and fought down the urge to say something very inappropriate. Lisa was probably right, and he wouldn't die from having to share a room with one of the other guests for a few days. He would only go there to sleep, anyway.

"Ok, ok. No need to explode like that. So, who will be my... roommate?"

In an instant, Lisa had a list in her hand and looked at it until she found the name.

"Let's see... that would be Jamal, who also didn't arrive with a date. I trust the two of you know each other?"

"Jamal? Oh god, no! Why do I have to room with the n... with him? Isn't there any other option?"

Lance couldn't believe it. Jamal, really? Of all the guest, he had to endure Jamal?

"No." Lisa said firmly. "And now, if you excuse me, there are a thousand other places I need to be right now. Have fun and try to get along with your roommate, ok? I'm not gonna make any changes."

With a flip of her hair, she walked away.

Lance was fuming as he fingered the keycard to his room. This had to be a bad joke. Jamal and him... Let's say they never got along really well. And ‘never’ was quite a long time for them, actually. They've known each other since kindergarten and didn't get along very well even then, although they had arguably be friends back then. But ever since, their relationship became worse.

It wasn't Lance's fault, of course. That much was certain, he decided, as he drew the card through the door sensor. Jamal was just so...

The door opened and revealed the object of his disdain.

Black.

There was hardly any way to phrase it differently, Jamal had the unmistakable dark skin color of a dirty ... Black man. Lance didn't consider himself a racist, but the fact was that people who weren't white were less civilized, that was just the way it was.

"Lance."

Jamal's voice was just as dark as his skin as he glared at Lance. Unlike Lance, Jamal most definitely was racist. He was proud of his heritage and thought very lowly of Lance, no doubt because of his skin color. If things were allowed to continue like that, people like Lance would surely become even more oppressed by people like Jamal. He closed the door behind him.

"Yes, that's me. Do you have a problem with that?"

He approached the other man like a predator until he stood right in front of him. They were about the same size, and Lance could see the dark wide nostrils of the other guy flare.

"Yes."

Jamal spat the word.

"I do. What are you doing here, you white piece of trash?"

Lance gritted his teeth.

"What are you doing here, you filthy ni-"

Jamal's fist flew before Lance could finish the word and it was only due to the fact that Lance expected the hit that he could dodge and thus avoid having his teeth bashed in. He answered with a quick kick to the balls, and the two men began their brawl.

The fight was short and intense, but neither of them managed to seriously hurt their opponent. At the end, they sat at different sides of the large double bed, breathing heavily.

"Fuck."

Lance spit out a blood drop. Jamal had a surprisingly hard punch.

"Yeah, that about sums it up."

Jamal was massaging his wrist, and Lance guessed that his jaw would bruise pretty badly. He was more than surprised, however, when Jamal offered him his hand to help him up.

"It's no use, Lance. It looks like we're stuck together for the next few days, and I've got better things to do than beat your racist ass every time I go to my room. Truce?"

Lance considered the proposition for a few moments, before he nodded and grabbed the dark hand.

"Truce. At least as long as we're stuck in this room with each other, you fucking monkey."

A moment of silence followed before Jamal got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. From inside, he mocked Lance again.

"You know, Lance, you really need to learn how to control your racism. I bet the only reason why you're so angry about me is the fact that I have a big dick."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, asshole."

These were going to be a few long days. The wedding wouldn't be for another two days to give everyone time to enjoy themselves a bit. Originally, Lance had looked forward to this opportunity, but now it seemed like these days were going to be more of an ordeal than anything else.

Of course, there was no way he was going to sleep in the same bed as Jamal, and, luckily, Jamal agreed on that without argument and moved his stuff to the couch. They didn't speak a single word to each other this evening, and Jamal left the hotel room shortly after, allowing Lance some time alone. He was still bruised up and dirty from the short fight and took the opportunity to take a shower himself.

The water was somewhat soothing, and slowly, Lance regained his composure. He certainly wouldn't let someone like him spoil his vacation, and perhaps Jamal was right, and it was a good idea to just ignore each other as much as possible. He could live with that.

When he was sufficiently clean and calm, he left the shower and reached for a fresh towel, only to see a small article of clothing fall from the rack.

With some disgust, Lance noticed what it was: A piece of underwear, a pair of boxer briefs to be exact. It was previously worn, and Lance had no doubts who the owner was. Jamal must have forgotten it when he took a shower earlier.

Lance tried to ignore the unwanted textile as much as he could, but his eyes kept returning to it. Truth be told, it wasn't all that small. In fact, especially the pouch area was rather large, and the fabric looked like it had been stretched somewhat. Without really wanting to, Lance had picked up the piece of underwear and inspected it from all sides now. Frustratingly enough, what Jamal had said earlier appeared to be true. If this piece of underwear was any indicator, then Jamal's dick had to be fairly huge.

That only angered Lance further. Who did Jamal think he was, with his stupid large penis, mocking him? Did Jamal think he could impress him with that?

The piece of clothing had a slightly damp feeling to it. Most probably it was because of the steam from two showers, but was that really all? His body acted on autopilot when he brought the foreign item of clothing closer and sniffed. It was a bit musky, that was for sure, but he wasn't quite sure yet. He buried his nose in the front part of the pouch, right where the dick had been before and took another deep breath.

Oh, there it was. Definitely, Jamal's scent was embedded in the fabric, and the smell was stronger now. Lance felt a rush of shame and anger. Did he really smell the underwear of his black temporary roommate? That was disgusting. He was just about to drop the garment, when he noticed something else. His own -rather small- dick stood proudly at attention.

"What?" Lance said out loud? He was hard because of a man’s underwear? No, not just any man’s. Jamal's, his arch enemies if he had any.

No, this had to stop. With a quick motion, Lance pulled the underwear over his legs and left the bathroom.

Only when he pulled on his pants over the baggy and mostly empty cloth that concealed his erection, he took note of what he had done. Why had he put on the thing?! Well, now it was too much of a hassle to change that, he decided and closed his pants, pressing the damp sweaty fabric against his groin.

Luckily, Jamal didn't come back until late in the night, when Lance was already asleep. He half noticed the other man getting settled on the couch, but he was too tired to care.

When Lance woke up the next morning, he was covered in sweat and his boxers were uncomfortably tight. He groaned as the memories of the day before came back. A quick glance confirmed: Yep, the black man was still there, on the couch, and still asleep, as it seemed.

With a throb, his cock demanded attention under the sheets. It had been quite a while since he had woken up with such a severe case of morning wood, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He wasn't alone, after all. He couldn't resist, however, to reach down under his sheets to readjust himself.

Only when he felt the unfamiliar fabric, again somewhat wet, by his own sweat and precum did he fully remember. Right, for some reason, he had put on Jamal's underwear after the shower. And later, when he went to bed, he hadn't fixed his mistake. There was something else, though.

Lance carefully felt the outline of his cock. This wasn't right. The stolen underwear pouch was filled to the brim with a throbbing organ entirely unfamiliar to him. This wasn't his cock! It was much, much too large!

However, every touch on the large piece of flesh felt good, and he couldn't resist stroking the length stealthily, if only a few times. Why did this feel so good? Lance failed to fully suppress a moan, and saw Jamal stir in his sleep. He really had to stop this. Only perhaps one or more stroke.

Were before, when rubbing one off, he often resorted to only using three fingers to stimulate his length due to his tools size. Now, however, he found that his whole hand was unable to fully close around the shaft, and there was a lot of space for his hand to move up and down, too.

He threw Jamal another glance, but the unwanted roommate still seemed to be asleep. Perhaps he could continue just a bit longer, and perhaps pick up some speed...

This time, too, he failed to muffle his moan completely.

"Ahh, fuck, yes..."

He breathed as he pumped the thick organ faster and faster, using his other hand to caress his balls through the underwear, which felt unusually large as well. Not being able to keep it down any longer, he pumped faster and faster, through Jamal's underwear, until, with a loud groan, he shot a generous load into the fabric.

Lance saw stars for a moment, but the noise had apparently been enough to wake up Jamal, and he turned around on the couch and remarked with a sleepy voice filled with annoyance.

"Dude, what the fuck? Did you just jerk off?"

"Uhh, no. I was... not."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the president. What the fuck, dude? Couldn't you wait until I was gone or something?"

Jamal groaned and got up to go to the bathroom. As he was walking, Lance got a short glimpse at the other man’s groin for the first time. If one thing was for certain, his dick wasn't as large as Lance had suspected. Most of the front of Jamal's boxer briefs was obviously empty.

Jamal spent a surprisingly large amount of time in the bathroom, and when he emerged again, he was - as far as Lance could tell - pale as if he had seen a ghost. He didn't speak a word as he quickly got dressed and basically fled the room, leaving a puzzled Lance behind. What had gotten into that guy again? He shook his head and, finally, removed the sheets and pulled down his borrowed boxer briefs.

And then, he looked at his crotch dumbfounded. He had been right. It wasn't his dick, even though it was flaccid again now, it was much too large. However, that wasn't the biggest problem. Despite being too big, it was decidedly... Black.

And it wasn't just his shaft that was suddenly dark skinned. His balls, too, and the rest of his groin as well. When he turned in front of the mirror, he realized that even his ass-cheeks were a rich dark brown color now, and his pubes dark and wiry.

Lance's head was swimming. What in the world was going on? Was it an infection?

No, even a guy as biased as Lance knew that dark skin was not a disease you got infected with. He simply had no explanation for what he was seeing. Luckily, only his groin was affected. Both his legs and his torso were still as white as they were supposed to be. And his face was fine, too.

Lance shook his head. He'd have to get to the bottom of it, but that had time until later. Today, he wanted to enjoy the beach a bit. However, as he tried to put on his swimming trunks he noticed a problem with his new anatomy. Neither his swimwear nor his pants would fit without being extraordinarily uncomfortable. Not wanting to cut off the circulation to his now much larger tool, he glanced over to Jamal's suitcase. Judging by the pair of boxer briefs, Jamal's stuff should be about the same size, even though Lance didn't really understand why the other man brought clothes this big.

After rummaging through Jamal's belongings for a bit, Lance found what he was looking for. A pair of swimming trunks and a pair of pants that fit comfortably as he put them on without a second thought. He briefly considered fully dressing from the other man’s trunk, but decided against it and took socks, shirt and sunglasses from his own stash.

Finally, fully equipped, he went to the beach.

Given the time of the year, it was rather full, just as he had expected it to be. Nevertheless, he found a spot to lay down a bit and sunbathe, and soon, the warm rays had him relaxed.

For a while, nothing happened. Lance felt at peace, and his thoughts returned to the morning events. He was no stranger to masturbating, but it was the first time that he had felt the urge to do so while in the same room as another guy. Even stranger though, he didn't feel particularly ashamed about it anymore. So, what if Jamal had seen him? He certainly jerked off, too. Put aside all the obvious things that separated them, that was one thing they had in common. They were both men, and men had certain needs. Nothing wrong with indulging in them, right?

In fact, in the morning sun, his thoughts about Jamal were less hostile than usual. It was really hard to be angry all the time when relaxing in the warm seaside sand.

A few hours later, Lance decided to take a swim. However, as he wiggled out of his borrowed pants, he was confronted with yet another surprise.

Apparently, the dark skin had spread. Now, the whole length of his legs was decidedly dark-skinned. Lance shook his head as if he would be able to revert the skin color of his legs like that. But it was no use: The pigment was there to stay. This couldn't possibly be natural, or even healthy! He needed to see a doctor, right now!

Half-panicking, he checked his upper body but was relieved to see that there, his skin was just as milky white as it was supposed to be, as were his feet.

Against all logic, his panic subsided. Sure, he looked ridiculous like that, but it wasn't that bad. In fact, once he managed to look past the weird color of his skin, he found his legs somewhat better looking even, packed with lean muscles. It wasn't bodybuilder level, but a whole new level of power that he never had before.

Originally, he wanted to run, search for a doctor as quickly as he could, but now, he reconsidered. He might as well go through with his plan and swim a bit in the inviting ocean. He could look for a doctor afterwards.

The water was wonderful, and the feeling of his legs powerfully propelling him through the waves was intoxicating. Lance lost track of time, and it was only when his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day that he turned back, all thoughts of a doctor forgotten.

He grabbed his stuff and went back to his hotel room to change, but was surprised to meet Jamal in there, when he unlocked the door.

The other man was sitting on the bed with his pants at his ankles and was furiously beating his meat. When the door opened, he quickly covered his groin with a pillow, but there were two things Lance had noticed: First, Jamal's dick was really small! And, secondly, from the waist down, Jamal's skin was colored a bright tone of pink, a stark contrast to his dark torso. There was an obvious connection waiting to be found, something really profoundly easy, but it escaped Lance persistently.

Instead, for the first time in God knew how long, Lance smiled at Jamal briefly.

"Don't mind me, just carry on. I'll just get changed really quickly."

"O...okay." Jamal replied, obviously confused about more than Lance's statement. Hesitatingly, he removed the pillow and continued his work, his eyes glued at the other man.

Since Jamal was occupying the bed at the moment, and Lance didn't want to disturb him by accessing his own suitcase, without thinking too much about it, he grabbed a new set of clothes from Jamal's: A pair of socks, pants, fresh underwear, a shirt and a baseball cap. He got dressed and nodded at the furiously masturbating Jamal again as he left the room just as Jamal came.

Dinner was somewhat strange for Lance. His upper body, arms and feet felt all strange and tingly, and below the borrowed cap, his hair felt like it was shifting and changing. He was really hungry today and was glad about the all you can eat buffet.

However, the more he ate, the more the strange feeling took hold of his head and face as well, and with it, another urge awakened. Lance's thoughts consistently went back to the picture of Jamal masturbating on their bed. Say what you want, but that white boy really had a cute body. That was something Lance had always liked about Jamal James.

Lance Lamar felt his groin get tight again. It was difficult enough to find underwear for his large black python, but when he got aroused, there was hardly anything able to contain the beast of burden.

Finally, he stood up in all of his black glory and went to the elevator. Time to see if James was still around and was up for a length of his loving boyfriends large dick up his cute tight ass.

He was.

As he left the dining hall, Lisa smiled a thin smile and changed an entry in her list. Two less troublemakers and one more happy couple for the wedding.

What a great couple, in the end! After all, racism never pays.

If you like to read about another great couple, in a magical story, perhaps check out this novel!

[mochinek0]

Daminette December: 15-(SUB) How to Thaw a Frozen Heart

PART 1

Word spread quickly about Damian and Marinette dating. Many people were shocked, even more so, when they found out that he was the one who asked her out.

When people looked into him, they learned he was called the 'Ice Prince of Gotham'. Lila was furious hearing the whispers. She looked into Marinette's boyfriend and learned his family was wealthier than the Agreste.

'How could he choose that nobody?'

Lila realized she could play off Marinette's "jealousy " any more. The others had commented how happy she looked with him and how she was smiling more. They would look out of the lunchroom and see the two sitting on the law, sketching. The new couple would even walk together after school.

Just when Lila thought, she could relax away from the school drama, pictures of them started to pop up in the news. Pictures of their dates: Damian and Marinette at a cafe, coming out of the movies, at the park with his dog, him leaving the bakery! She lost it when she read the headlines: Parisian Pastry Princess thaws out Ice Prince's heart.

'Why are they calling her a princess?'

Meanwhile, Marinette and Damian were panicking internally. They had never meant for this to get out of hand. It was suppose to be for school only and some how everyone thought they were really dating. Yeah, they enjoyed each others company. They were both afraid to admit it, but they more relaxed with each other than anyone else.

"Damian!" Dick cried out.

Damian sighed. He was expecting this and knew calling would make it go quicker.

"So," Jason smiled, "tell us about your princess."

"First off, she hates being called that." Damian declared, "I tried it once and she said "Don't" very...forcefully."

They laughed.

"So, what drew you to her, Little D?" Asked Dick.

"We're fake dating." He answered.

"What?" Cried Dick.

"Aw. Come on!" Whined Jason.

"Knew it." Tim declared.

"You can't ruin it, just like that." Sighed Jason.

"I did not expect you to agree to fake date someone, Damian." Bruce finally spoke.

"I asked her. " his son replied.

"You....asked her?" Dick questioned. "You....asked her to date you....without actually dating?"

"Yes." Damian answered, "Father did Grayson sustain a concussion?"

"Why?" Questioned Tim, "Why would you ask and more importantly, why did she say yes? How much money did you offer her?"

Damian glared at Tim, "She was being bullied and mistreated. I proposed the idea so they would leave her alone."

That was not the answer they had expected. They knew Damian was attractive enough to get a girlfriend, if he actually wanted one. They also knew he hated publicity so the girl he was with, had to be worth it. They just wanted to see how long it would take to make him crack. Dick just smiled.

"Are you treating her well?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, Father." His youngest son answered.

"What about...touching?" Jason pressed.

"She knows about my boundaries. " he replied.

"Hate to break it to you," Tim spoke, before sipping on his mug, "but if people don't see some action, they might assume figure out you are fake dating."

"Are you suggesting, I get physical with her? " Damian asked.

"At your age level!" Dick cried out, quickly.

They realized Damian was stumped.

'Oh, boy.'

"We'll get to that later, but since you're not serious about her, it doesn't matter." Jason stated.

"And she respects your boundaries." Dick pointed out, "so it's....unlikely she will try anything."

"Try anything?" Damian asked.

The boys looked at each other and Bruce sighed, "Your conception, Damian."

"Ah. No, I do not believe she will do anything like that." Damian declared, putting them all at ease.

"So, when can we meet her?" Tim smirked.

Damian glared and ended the call.

Lila, ever the opportunist, quickly spread the word that Damian and Marinette weren't really dating. She confided in others that Damian told her it was a publicity stunt to make him more likeable and Marinette was just that desperate. Too bad, for her, Damian heard her and quickly notified Marinette.

She sighed, "Thank you for trying, Damian."

"Are you saying the deal is off?" He questioned.

"Isn't it?" She asked, "Lila is actually telling the truth, this time and-"

"I can hold your hand." Damian announced, "I brought my motorcycle today. I can give you a ride home, if your parents allow it."

'That should be enough physical contact for the masses. Curse Drake for being correct.'

"Are you sure? The motorcycle, I don't have a problem with; Nona has a bike and I ride with her." Marinette stated, "You said you don't like being touched."

"You trust your Nona." Damian pushed back, avoiding the obvious.

"I trust you." Marinette declared, "You have been nothing but honest to me. You never hid your intentions and you didn't cross my boundaries either."

Damian gulped. He hadn't expected her to trust him. She had never told him her boundaries and yet, she had respected his.

Later, in the day, people started whispering about Daminette holding hands. Curiosity got the better of some people and they had to ask, 'Why the sudden urge to hold hands?'

"I am not particularly fond of physical touch." Damian admitted to his peers.

Marinette smiled, "We are going at his pace and I'm okay with that. If tomorrow he told me he didn't want to hold hands, I would wait until he asked if we could again."

Many were satisfied with their answers, but when word spread around, Lila decided to confront them head on.

"Is Marinette forcing you?" Lila pushed, reaching out to him.

Damian slapped her hand away. Lila quickly pulled her hand to her chest and sniffled.

"I-" she started to speak.

"It is known in Gotham that I am the byproduct of rape; my father speaks about it at movements." Damian stated, "I despise physical touch. If you looked deep enough, into my background, you would have seen that I have broken many girls' hand for not keeping them to themselves."

Lila took a step back.

"My father is aware of my hatred for touch. I told Marinette when I asked her out." He growled, "My Angel has never pushed for physical contact!"

"And it's okay if you're not ready, Damian. If holding my hand is too much, we don't have to." Marinette smiled, letting his hand go.

"Are you finished spreading falsified statements about myself and my girlfriend?" Damian questioned Lila.

"I'm not!" She quickly pushed back, "I-"

"Heard you claim Marinette was forcing herself on me." He shot back, "You are a disgrace and no better than paparazzi attempting to create a false story for popularity."

Lila shifted nervously, "But I-"

Damian took a step towards her, "One more false statement and I will personally go to your employer, buy out your contract, and permanently black list you from fashion."

For once in her life, Lila remained silent.

"You can't do that! " screamed Alya.

"Agreste is a low class millionaire because of his father, who was only influenced by Style Queen." Damian declared, "My father is a billionare. The Wayne family has been around for centuries and throwing away a million, all I have to do is list it under a 'charity service'."

Lila glanced at Marinette and was surprised to see she was shocked as well. She expected her to be looking smug.

'She didn't know! Why the fuck do they always choose her?'

Damian watched as Lila's face contorted with anger towards Marinette. Quickly he decided to end her charade. Damian leaned down and kissed Marinette. Marinette squeaked as he abruptly kissed her. When he pulled away, everyone saw her cheeks bright red. He grabbed her hand and led her away from the crowd.

At the end of the day, everyone witnessed Damian offer Marinette a ride on his motorcycle. They could see she looked more excited about the bike. In a way, it eased Damian. He was afraid that Marinette would pull away from him after he kissed her.

"Ready?" Damian asked, holding out a helmet.

Marinette nodded and took the helmet, smiling.

Mari got on the bike and wrapped her hands around him. She felt him tense. She started to pull away but Damian placed her hands back around his waist.

"I'm calm." His voice echoed in the helmet, "I apologize about kissing you, without asking your permission."

Mari cuddled into his back, "You have helped me more than you know. My first kiss seems like the best reward."

Damian wasn't about to admit that her touch made his body feel on fire. After hearing he was her first kiss, he didn't know what to think. He quickly slammed his visor down and drove away.

"I guess she really did thaw his heart."

"They look so cute togther."

"I'm glad Marinette is so understanding."

"She's so sweet."

"Always has been."

"Did you hear he kissed her and she was so surprised."

"Awww."

"Did you hear the shit that Rossi was spreading about her?"

"Took it like a grain of salt, like all the other shit she says."

Bustier's class kept silent as everyone praised Marinette on her patience with her boyfriend. How Marinette wasn't one to cross boundaries. Mari obviously wasn't jealous of Lila; she was happy with Damian. They didn't know what to say as people laughed about Lila and the lie she had spread about the couple. They wanted to ask, but Lila was nowhere in sight.

@maribat-calendar-events

TAG LIST- DAMINETTE: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb

UNSPECIFIED- @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog

[ariays]

What makes Minho a unique teen romance male lead:

1. He’s the “Mean but Not Malicious” Type

A lot of teen series have the classic bad boy male lead who’s brooding, mysterious, and sometimes outright toxic (cough Nate Jacobs from Euphoria or Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl). But Minho? He’s different.

Yes, he starts off snarky and arrogant, but he’s never cruel. His “mean” moments are more about sass, self-confidence, and playful teasing rather than being manipulative or emotionally unavailable. He’s that guy who thinks he’s all that—but is actually really soft underneath it all.

2. He’s a Himbo, But a Smart One

Minho gives off major himbo energy—he’s rich, ridiculously good-looking, and very aware of it. But unlike a lot of stereotypical “dumb jocks” in teen dramas (think Reggie from Riverdale), Minho actually has depth. He has goals, he cares about his friends, and despite his superficial exterior, he’s pretty emotionally perceptive—especially when it comes to Kitty.

3. His Character Growth Feels Earned

Some male leads in teen series tend to change too quickly once they develop feelings for the female lead. (Looking at you, Hardin from After). But Minho’s growth is gradual and believable. He doesn’t just flip a switch from “annoying rich boy” to “perfect boyfriend material.” Instead, his feelings for Kitty creep up on him, and you can see the shift in how he interacts with her.

He still teases her, but it becomes more affectionate. He still acts cocky, but you start noticing those small, vulnerable moments—like the Chuseok kitchen scene—where he actually lets his guard down.

4. He’s Unapologetically Dramatic

Minho is extra in a way that most teen drama male leads aren’t. He’s not just confident—he’s theatrical. From his grand entrances to his over-the-top reactions, he brings a comedic flair that makes him entertaining without making him a joke.

A lot of teen drama male leads tend to be serious, broody, or deeply angsty. Minho, on the other hand, brings comedic energy while still being emotionally compelling.

5. He’s Stylish & Unapologetically Metrosexual

Unlike the usual rugged, broody, or athletic male leads in teen series (think Nate from Euphoria or Conrad from The Summer I Turned Pretty), Minho embraces fashion, skincare, and self-care in a way that isn’t played off as a joke.

A lot of male leads in Western teen dramas either: ✔ Stick to basic, "masculine" fashion (hoodies, leather jackets, plain tees) ✔ Look effortlessly disheveled (the whole ‘hot but doesn’t care’ aesthetic) ✔ Avoid anything remotely “feminine” to maintain their "tough" image

Minho, on the other hand, is deliberately put together. He’s well-groomed, he cares about his appearance, and he fully owns it. From his tailored fits to his expensive skincare routine, he has a level of self-awareness and confidence that makes him unique. Instead of needing to be macho, he leans into a softer masculinity, which is refreshing.

6. He’s Not the Broody, Emotionally-Closed-Off Male Lead

Most classic teen romance male leads fall into one of these categories:

The dark, brooding, emotionally unavailable love interest (Conrad from TSITP, Hardin from After)

The soft, nerdy best friend who secretly loves the female lead (Ben from Never Have I Ever)

The overprotective, jock-type boyfriend (Noah from The Kissing Booth)

Minho doesn’t fit into any of these boxes. Yes, he starts off as a bit of a snarky, rich-boy, but he’s not emotionally closed-off. He expresses himself, he reacts dramatically, and he’s not afraid to show his feelings, whether it’s through humor, frustration, or genuine care.

His emotional openness, combined with his flair for the dramatic, makes him feel more alive compared to brooding, silent male leads who struggle to express affection.

7. He Exudes Non-Traditional Masculinity

Most male leads in teen dramas stick to a traditionally masculine aesthetic—either super muscular (Noah from The Kissing Booth) or effortlessly scruffy and rebellious (JJ from Outer Banks). Even the ones who are more “soft boy” (like Josh from To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before) tend to be written in a way that contrasts them against a tougher male lead.

Minho, however, balances both masculine and non-masculine traits in a way that makes him unique: ✔ He’s confident, but not aggressively dominant. ✔ He’s fashionable and expressive, but not reduced to a stereotype. ✔ He’s attractive, but not in the rugged bad boy way—his appeal comes from his charisma, playfulness, and charm.

His character doesn’t need to be hyper-masculine to be desirable, which is a refreshing departure from traditional male leads. He’s proof that a guy can be well-dressed, expressive, and a little flamboyant while still being a compelling love interest.

8. He’s Secure in Himself (Without Trying to Prove Anything)

Minho never tries to “prove” his masculinity. A lot of teen male leads are obsessed with dominance—whether it’s through fighting, being emotionally unavailable, or acting like they don’t care about anything.

But Minho? He doesn’t need to do that. He’s secure in himself. He knows he’s attractive. He knows he’s stylish. And he owns it. He can be extra, dramatic, and funny, but it doesn’t make him any less confident or appealing.

This is what makes him stand out from the usual teen romance male lead—he doesn’t fall into outdated ideas of what it means to be a man. He’s just him, and that’s enough.

[whimsical-mistakes]

i hate it when pandora is made out to be super mature and someone who 'wouldn't hurt a fly'. like no. the woman literally blew herself up, she is not responsible.

anyways here is how i interpret her

she has really bad grades but shes extremely smart. unlike regulus, pandora only really pays attention if the topic interests her. she doesn't care about the draught of living death but she does care about amortentia so in the exam, despite not remembering actually writing anything down or taking notes, she can list every trait and ingredient of it but then when there a question about living draught her mind goes fully blank.

and honestly i think she knows that grades aren't everything and what some silly test on paper shows nothing about her actual skills (and i think she would've ingrained that in luna too)

she is not a ravenclaw. im sorry but i dont think that pandora fits within that house. as we know, ravenclaws like to seek knowledge but i dont think pandora does - i think she loves the unknown (likely due to being a seer and having the curse of knowing too much) and she will only seek out knowledge only if she has to

she is a slytherin that doesnt intentionaly break the rules like barty. she just doesnt understand why there are so many stupid rules in place when there are way better ways she could get things done.

she is NOT a planner - if you ask her to do something she'll just shrug and give you the most ominous response known to man

she knew remus was a werewolf. - she has 0 evidence to back this theory like at all. she just had a feeling.

she has zero sense of danger.

'regulus i think your being paranoid. how could me going outside for a late night walk to investigate the loud howling on a full moon be dangerous? you cant die at hogwarts'

she purposefully messes with barty by pretending that she saw something about his future and making him believe it. and he falls for it every. single. time.

'barty!' 'what' 'be careful on your way to care of magical creatures.' 'what why?' 'PROMISE ME BARTY' 'dora. did you see something' *slow nodding*

barty was paranoid for the rest of the day

she has 5 bajillion hobbies (sewing, baking, juggling ect.)

everyone in the friendgroup is slightly afraid of her - they all feel like shes capable of things that no one should be capable of

she steals potion ingredients from slughorn and lets the marauders get the blame

(which they take because at this point they cant even remember what they did and didn't do)

she took care of magical creature

evan and pandoras parents are split.

evan lives with his dad, dads shiny new wife and little brother (i am gonna go into depth about this household in my evan characterisation)

their mum managed to get out and took pandora with her - mr. rosier pays them money to act like they don''t exist and that's exactly what they do

her mum is a healer who works super hard and is often exhausted but is kind and lets pandora explore the things she wants

evan and pandora were separated when they were four and couldn't get back in contact but when they went to hogwarts they immediately rekindled their relationship

pandora is increadibly emotionally intelligent and loves observing people and theyre mannerisms - she sees how tense dorcas gets whenever anyone talks badly about gryffindors and how regulus sneaks glaces at the gryffindor table when nobodys looking, she even noticed wolfstar first

but she will take all of this to her grave.

she doesnt feel the need to share it like gossip or even to confront the people its about. she just enjoys knowing and allowing the world to unfold around her.

she has a little box of things that she collects that she just loves

she can read taro and loves watching people reactions to each card

she also loves being a absolute menace and making up the most random shit for people

'aahh yes this card mean you shall be blessed with the spirit of a pelican and the vitality of a platypus' 'ooooh- wait what?' 'shhhh let the cards speak to you'

in history of magic, her and regulus' favorite thing to do is write little flirty notes and put them in the bags of people that they ships bag as if theyre from eachother - this is how rosekiller finally confessed confirmed.

she LOVES matching hair with evan

shes super protective over regulus

not one person in the school hates her. they just don't.

edit:

when it comes to her moral compass - i dont think its very strong. thats not to say she cant tell the difference but i think her empathy gets in the way of her being able to decide if something is right or wrong. i think that when her friends joined the deatheater she was heartbroken but she couldn't just cut them off the way dorcas could because she could see why they did despite her thinking it was a horrible thing to do - i think thats why she never joined the order, she stayed neutral but still showed her view through the quibbler (supporting the order). i think she knew there was the chance she would have to go up against barty, evan or reg and she knew that she would never be able to.

(i hope i didnt offend anyone with the intro or my opinions - at the end of the day its a fandom and theres no 'set' traits of the characters)

i am gonna continue to add to this when i have another headcannon to add xx

tags with no pressure (my fav blogs)

@crescenthistory @unconventional-lawnchair @thatdammchickennugget @fear-less @adalitas-coffeebreak-corner @g1rld1ary @rainydayathogwarts @sun-kissy

[lazycats-stuff]

Yo, Can u write about Mexican! Batbro (same age or a year older than Damian, like Damian he's a biological son of Bruce) who celebrates dia de muertos, he could make an altar of Thomas and Martha Wayne, he could explain his roots and culture to the batfamily

Sure thing. Damn, Bruce is really mister Worldwide.

Summary: (Y/N) is Mexican. Everyone is curious.

Warnings: nothing bad, talking about Mexican culture, which is really cool with the day of the dead honestly,

Bruce has been thinking about getting a vasectomy, since he has found out about (Y/N), his son who was born and is being raised in Mexico. Bruce slept with a model and hence, (Y/N) was born. His mother loved him, but she wanted (Y/N) to go to the USA, to get a safer life and better education.

Bruce, being ever so suspicious, decided to do a DNA test, just in case. You just never know and Bruce didn't want to be used for his money and a green card for the boy that wasn't his. And once a DNA test showed that Bruce was the father, he took it upon himself to get (Y/N) into the USA and to get him his citizenship.

And immigration is not fun to deal with, everyone knows that. After pulling some connections, (Y/N) managed to get to the USA on a visa for now at least. Bruce has started the process right away with an immigration lawyer, the best on he could find in Gotham city. And since last name Wayne opens up a lot of doors everywhere, Bruce has decided to use that to his advantage.

The boys were not shocked by the news of another biological son. Damian wasn't afraid or threatened and unlike the first time he came to the manor, he's established himself as a biological son. And (Y/N) is a year younger than Damian anyway, so Damian welcomed (Y/N), but of course, it would take time for everyone to adjust to the new addition to the family.

Once (Y/N) settled down in the manor, Bruce sat him down to talk about everything moving forward. Bruce told (Y/N) that he will never prohibit any aspect of his culture and that if there are holidays that are important to him, that they would celebrate it. Bruce didn't want (Y/N) to lose his culture. He wanted (Y/N) to be proud of his culture and seeing the beaming smile on (Y/N)'s face made it all worth it.

So, the two decided to make a list of holidays that are important to him and that they were going to celebrate. (Y/N) made sure to put Día de los Muertos, alongside  Cinco de Mayo and El Grito de Independencia. Which (Y/N) clarified for his brothers. Cinco de Mayo commemorates the bravery of Mexican soldiers who made the French army retreat. El Grito de Independencia is the actual independence day, where they got their independence from Spain.

For some reason, Americans think that Cinco de Mayo is their independence day, which (Y/N) doesn't understand why Americans would think so. Like why? Do they not like to research? (Y/N) couldn't understand it, but decided to let it go since maybe Cinco the Mayo is far more easier to remember for them... No, that doesn't make any sense in that.

Maybe he'll never know.

(Y/N) was doing just fine in school. Bruce noticed how hard working he was. And it wasn't like Bruce had to force him to, he was just doing it on his own. Bruce wondered why, since he was a good student before coming to the USA. (Y/N) just explained how his mother taught that hard work is something that will make him succeed in life. She told him her story of hard work and how she became successful.

And Bruce understood why. (Y/N)'s mom didn't have connections and a last name that could open doors and simply pave the way. Bruce understood that and agreed that his mom did good. You can't expect that last name open up doors for you. Because anything can crumble when you least expect it.

So Bruce encouraged (Y/N) to take breaks, since it's not good to study for a long time. (Y/N) nodded and understood that. He promised Bruce that he would try his best to take breaks and Bruce smiled, knowing that he can't force change over night.

Jason on the other hand, needed help. He couldn't understand Spanish for the life of him. And he asked (Y/N) for help. And (Y/N) was surprisingly a good teacher. Teaching him how to pronounce certain sounds and taught him more than the teacher did. Jason was thankful and (Y/N) had no problem giving him tips he needed to remember certain things.

Dick was more interested in his culture. What were certain traditions of Mexican culture? What were values there? What is something you shouldn't do there? What should you do there? Dick was always more interested in learning about other cultures.

That turned into a nice during dinner. (Y/N) explained his roots and culture to them, beating a few stereotypes along the way and everyone listen intently. (Y/N) also said that he would like to celebrate the Día de los Muertos, reminding them that it start from the eve of October 31st until November 2nd. Bruce nodded having no problem.

What did shock Bruce was that (Y/N) revealed that he made an altar of Martha and Thomas Wayne. Bruce didn't know about it, but wasn't mad. (Y/N) explained what it meant to have an altar. It would mean having pictures of the deceased, alongside some candles and a cross. (Y/N) also added their favorite flowers.

Bruce was touched by that. To have his parents honored and remembered like that was... Touching. And a bit better than the way they do it here in America...

" Can you show the altar to me? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) nodded.

" I will papa. " (Y/N) sipped his water and Bruce nodded. After dinner, (Y/N) would show Bruce the altar of Martha and Bruce Wayne. It was a simply altar, with pictures, probably provided by Alfred, favorite flowers, just like (Y/N) said. There was also a cross.

" And it's normally that simple? " Bruce asked, curiously.

" Well on the Day of the Dead, we make ofrendas, in English language that means offerings. We leave water in the pitcher so that the spirits can quench their thirst, paper banners that are traditional and they represent wind and then we have earth which is normally bread. Then you have candles that are often arranged to look like a cross, so that the spirits can find their way, " (Y/N) explained and Bruce nodded.

" Also, some altars have level. Most elaborate ones have have seven levels, but most have 3 levels. And we also have flowers in Mexico that grow a lot and have a strong smell that is said that spirits are attracted to it to visit their mortal loved ones, " (Y/N) added and Bruce was going to get those flowers for (Y/N), no matter what connections he had to pull.

Bruce nodded as he listened more. He really liked this holiday. It was nice and you can feel closer to your lost ones, rather than in America where you bury your loved ones and then simply visit their grave. Bruce never thought about the spirit of his dead loved ones would come.

But he liked the Mexican mindset on that matter.

" That's a nice way of thinking. That their spirits try to come and visit... " Bruce trailed off, smiling at the altar.

" Whatever you need for the altar, you'll get it. Whatever it is, I'll get it for you. "

(Y/N) nodded, knowing that Bruce would do that.

" Well, you can help with cleaning up the grave, since we take care of the graves to put some offerings there. Oh, you and the rest of the family need to learn a lot. " (Y/N) crossed his arms as he chuckled, Bruce chuckling alongside him.

[miwiheroes]

Arguments I think we should stop using for Byler and why:

Let me know if you have any thoughts about these! This post isn't made to give anyone byler doubt btw omg, my intention is to actually cure it, because I feel like some of these arguments are made as an overcompensation as a result of doubt so-

"Why do people say that two boys falling in love in the 80s is unrealistic? This show is about monsters and a different dimension!"

This argument is pretty much always a joke, which i don't mind, but using it as a genuine rebuttal isn't going to get us anywhere. People in general are far more likely to believe the impossible--things like monsters and super powers--than the improbable--things like two boys in the 80s falling in love. I feel like, instead, we should be focusing in on the fact that two boys falling in love in the 80s is an important thing to represent because it was improbable and "unrealistic". The reason why it feels so unrealistic to happen is because there is actually very little representation of it happening successfully, therefore, if we see more representation of it, it won't be seen as unrealistic anymore. Also, I don't believe that the audience really understands that what they're watching is not supposed to be a shot for shot realistic protrayal of real life. This isn't just about monsters and shit, this show is about love. Yes it's cheesy, but it's not unrealistic for a show about love - which portrays unique loving relationships like platonic love between a random guy and a lesbian - to portray a queer love story which honestly isn't even that hard to wrap one's head around.

"Mike didn't care about El until she pointed to Will's photo. He only cared about her because she helped find Will."

Okay this one is wayyy more nuanced than just him only caring about her because of Will. He is a heroic human being, and this is supposed to be portrayed by him taking her into his home, not out of romantic love, but just out of goodness of character. He is a very sweet person at the beginning of S1 because he's curious about El and acts different to Lucas and Dustin. Although, there are definitely things to show that he doesn't love her romantically here, like him trying to get rid of her and get her back to her family or something. I think the argument above in bold actually is an overcompensation for how he acts around her in S1. He treats her like a friend when showing her around, but Bylers might be afraid that looks too romantic. Don't worry guys, I really think it's Mike being himself. Acting friendly and nice around El is just part of his character to me. He also decides to not have her talk to his mom when she says she's in trouble, so it's not all about Will. However!!! He does decide to commit to hiding her and begins to place her on a pedestal when she starts to make an effort to find Will.

"Mike and El are on bad terms at the end of S4 so they won't be together in S5."

This argument was also used at the end of S3 (see the byler slides), saying that technically, Mike and El weren't actually together by the end of S3. Then they were together in S4. Here's the thing. This show isn't all about telling and not showing. It's about the opposite. Just because they didn't tell the audience "we're back together now!!!" doesn't mean that they aren't. At the end of S3, for example, El going "I love you too" implies that they are back together and that their relationship is now going to be more grown-up unlike in S3. Because of the love monologue at the end of S4, I can genuinely see Mike and El being back together at the beginning of S5. I can see them actually saying I love you to each other a la Steve and Nancy S2. Like, come on guys, isn't our whole argument that you can say I love you to someone and not actually be telling the truth? Also, Finn has confirmed that Mike and El will be together "going into" season 5, and the time skip between March 1986 and Nov. 1987 shows to me that they are still going to be together, and that they are saying I love you because El would not be staying in that relationship if he continues not to say it. More problems in their relationship are going to be revealed, beyond him being able to say I love you or not.

"This actor ships Byler so Byler endgame."

Uh oh,,,, if you start saying this, you can easily get a rebuttal from a Milkvan saying that so and so ships Milkvan, so... I honestly think that people saying they like Byler as a ship can be somewhat seen as a little hint they could possibly be endgame but tbh, it's not a full proof. To me, proof from the actors comes from what they don't say about Byler. They don't treat it like Stonathan, Ronance and Steddie. They treat it like a possibility, like a spoiler. The other queer ships of ST are treated like cool things that would have been interesting if they had happened. Byler is never treated as something that would have been cool. It's something that could happen. My confidence comes from when the actors are more ambiguous about Byler than when they're completely, utterly on board with it. Except for Noah, because he's definitely allowed to ship it, because his character is literally in love with Mike.

[blughxreader]

Do you think escape for batsis is in the realm of possibility if she pretended long enough? I’m talking like 5-10 years of playing the long game. Enough time to gain everyone’s trust, and maybe she even grows to like them too, but still wanting her freedom back, would she possibly be able to escape the manor with enough time and ingenuity?

... Trips outside with Platonic Yandere Batfam... HC

Honestly, I doubt you could escape. Between the chip they secretly planted in your leg upon your kidnapping, the hidden agents that trail you on your outings, and the Bat's propensity to have their eyes on you at all times... it's unlikely.

But if you convince them you love them and if they're comfortable with their security system, you can finagle your way into a cozy little adventure outside!

In the beginning, after a year or two of living at the Wayne Manor and warming up to the Bats, they would consider letting you leave the house. At first it's only to private islands during carefully scheduled vacation times.

Luxury villas, private chefs, un-disrupted skylines, new books / notepads / art supplies so you can capture the moment (and so they can frame it)... It's pretty sweet actually, especially if you've ever had an "old money aesthetic" Pinterest board.

Just you, a charcuterie board of aged meats and cheeses, and Dick's leg against yours because he insists on touching you... and Tim's camera shuttering every 4 minutes... and Damian's loud insistence on having your eyes on him... and and and

After a few years, if they feel like you genuinely love them and are happy then you can convince them to let you go out! Just allow 1-3 business days for preparation.

(Also: trips outside are also an excellent bargaining chip for rights with you. Tim's "Sleep in my bed for a 10 consecutive (preferable) or nonconsecutive days this month and we can get boba and browse a bookstore" vs Damian's "If you tell Jason he's fourth favorite, I will ask father to rent out Gotham Museum for the evening so we can view the new post-impressionism exhibition" (I.E. he wants to go SO BAD but is afraid of rejection))

Jason and Damian are the easiest to convince. Just offer them an in-depth discussion on a book you two read together or a drawing/reading date, and they'll call all necessary contacts that second.

Dick and Bruce are like, "hn. but there's plenty of things to do at home."

If you begged, Dick would fold faster. Like, "Fiiiine. But only if we can rent the venue and go in disguise." Because he's not mentally prepared for paparazzi to think you two are dating.

Bruce, on the other hand, has three sleepless nights leading up to the outing and insists you hold onto him without fail the entire time.

He's most likely to rent out the rooftop of a restaurant and hire a famous ensemble. The Batkids are invited sometimes, but these trips are mostly for you and him to make some memories. Tim, Steph, and Duke 100% will pretend to be waiters. Dick disguises himself as the pianist and fumbles through the first few songs before he's invited to eat with you two.

Last but not least, Timmy. Hardest to convince but you can also get some unique, crowded locations out of him. However, because it's crowded he will handcuff you two together. Sorry, not sorry.

It might be fun going to a gaming arcade and playing a single player game with each of your hand's though. He might also introduce you to his friends as well! Game nights with them are always exciting.

for more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!

[kaechu1]

Hello! I'm the anon that asked for the Platonic Hera and daughter Reader prompt, I actually didn't expect you to write it so fast. But I'm glad none the less, so if it's not too much trouble, can I request another one? This time with Circe and a mortal female Reader? Let's say the reader is on her period and Circe doesn't know what to do, goddesses don't experience that kind of thing! ( That is my personal headcanon) So she tries her best to comfort you. And that would be all thank you 😊. I also love your work, so keep it up champ!

circe with fem reader on her period !

ᡣ𐭩⁀➴ note: yes I'm writing this on my period! and this is supposed to be platonic but well... im feeling lesbian. art from gigi

ᡣ𐭩⁀➴ warning: none.

ᡣ𐭩⁀➴ content: , period mentioned, period cramps, hurt/comfort, the nymphs loves you, kisses, cuddles, witchcraft.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 circe was confused on first when she saw you being moody all day and seemed so uncomfortable, also holding your stomach while refusing to leave your bed? that was so unlike you and she couldn't shake that feeling, did something wrong happen to you?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 not mention she thought something bad happened to you when she first saw blood on your clothes or on the sheets, you had to shamefully explain to her that's no one has stabbed you nor did you stab yourself and that's just your period.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "your... period? darling what is this.." she was even more confused but you tell her more about it she understands. she didn't quite understand why you have to go through it but she understands.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "why? you don't get your period every month?" "I'm afraid that's not something goddesses have honey" "oh for fuck sake, of course."

ᯓᡣ𐭩 when the nymphs know about that they all get scared and worried for you, all you remember is them all hugging you while telling you not to leave them.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 apparently one overheard your conversation and heard you saying you're bleeding and thought you were dying, it was adorable moment, circe still using it against you every time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 after circe had her laugh for about 10 seconds she start to explain to her your daughters that you weren't dying and it's just something mortal women went through, it took full 10 minutes for then to let go.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 after that she try her best to comfort you in anyway, even iher nymphs trying to comfort you. you want food? 5 seconds and the nymphs already coming with all kinds of food you want, oh you're cold? dw the nymphs already brought 5 more blankets for you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 circe would be on her work place trying to make spell oe some sorta of potions that'll ease your pain while the nymphs comfort you with everything they got.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 after all that in the night you'll get to cuddle with your wife as you dig your face deep into her chest asking about her day. she'll take softly while letting her hand go through your hair and sort of comfort.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she won't let you move a little after that, yes you might say it's not that serious but circe can't just go and let her wife walk around bleeding now can she? if you do anything the nymphs would be happy to do it for you either way no.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she gotta admit she LOVES how clingy and touchy you are drugging your period, always hugging her, asking her for cuddles and kisses and she would be more than happy to give you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and of course she gotta make the pregnant joke. telling you if she could she'd make you pregnant so you wouldn't feel the pain. it's all fun and jokes until you said you're in.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she once hall full on panic attack when she enter the room only to see you laying on the ground while holding your stomach while saying what seem like curses under your breath, she thought you pass out or something.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you want she won't even leave the bed, she'll stay with you all day if that mean it'll ease on your period cramps. she'll just lay down holding you close to her as she whisper sweet things into your ears as she play with your hair while getting the nymphs to bring you food and drinks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she can cuddle with you, don't worry about it the nymphs will be more than happy to cuddle you instead so be ready for group hug.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 circe would always be stunned by the view of you laying down with all her nymphs surrounding you while y'all cuddle together. it always warm up her right to see you and her nymphs spending time together. she'll even join you if she's done with whatever she was doing.