#and I think a little simplicity is useful =3

[quinloki]

Tagging X Reader Fics

Hey all - I saw this post going around and wanted to make an easy, two-cents kind of post to go with it.

Primary Point: If you want to keep your tags clean, Moonpaw's request actually helps. You can tag "x reader " "reader insert" and then just the character name. Instead of 4-5 different ways the fandom uses a character name plus all those variations of that name and x reader.

Example:

[ x reader, reader insert, donquixote doflamingo, doflamingo, doffy]

vs

[donquixote doflamingo x you, donquixote doflamingo x reader, doffy x you, doffy x reader, doflamingo x you, doflamingo x reader, doflamingo x y/n, etc.... ]

Secondary Point: I love Fantasticsnail's description of x reader as a sort of RPG journey style story. Sometimes there's parts of the character insert that need to be defined for the story's sake, and generally there aren't, and sometimes we define parts because it' comforts us as writers (and sometimes those variants aren't for everyone And That Is Okay Too.)

Just make sure you tag your stuff.

You can warn about other details in your CW or Notes prior to the story start. If you want folks to know you prefer y/n, or you use [name] or whatever, that's a good place to do it.

I'm not saying you *have* to do things this way, but too much variance in tags makes it hard for people to avoid what they want to avoid.

Just like you don't want to surprise someone with dark content unexpectedly, you don't want to surprise them with x reader or even canon x canon!

Everyone has a right to curate what comes across their dash, and please, remember, don't censor your tags T-T Nothing sucks more than being afraid of spiders, having that word blacklisted, and seeing spiders cause someone decided to tag #sp!ders or some such.

Tumblr tags aren't smart. Simplicity is best ^_^

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ cowboy!rafe always snuck into farmer's!daughter!reader's room to give her a goodnight kiss.. but what happens when their innocent little kiss turns into something much more?

warnings: sweet fluff, flirty banter, brief flashback, daddy kink lol, sneaking around, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rafe covering your mouth, crying, overstimulation

a/n: i’ll be opening req’s soon! lately here i’ve been wanting to get out some of my own prompts since over half of my works are all req’s.. but i’m excited to see what you girlies send me! find more of farmer’s!daughter!reader and cowboy!rafe here <3

wc: 1.2k

“open up, doll face.” you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as rafe lightly tapped on your window. he made you so giddy, you scrambled up from the warmth of your sheets, unlocking the hatch before helping him climb in. “i thought you weren’t coming..” you whispered, pouting up at him as he snickered. “y’gotta have faith in me, sweetheart. when have i missed a goodnight’s kiss?” rafe cupped your face, both of you smiling against each other’s lips before melting into one another.

you always felt so warm and fuzzy inside when you and rafe got to share your secret little moments together, the simplicity of just being together without having to worry about someone catching you two made both of your hearts swell. rafe knew how to sweep you off your feet with a single kiss, a string of giggles tumbling from your mouth as he not-so-quietly threw you onto your bed. “rafe!” you scolded him, your heart beating in your ears as he slotted himself between your thighs.

“my daddy is next door! what if he hears..” you slapped his chest playfully, the man above you arching a brow. “daddy? i thought i was your daddy.” your cheeks heated in embarrassment when you recalled the quickie you two had in the barn not too long ago. rafe had you bent over a hay bale, his thrusts making you unable to speak until he asked you the golden question.

“hmmph! fuckin’ say it. tell me what i wanna hear, who’s your fuckin’ daddy?”

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, rafe smiled as he shook his head down at you. “you just thought about it, didn’t you?” snapping you out of your flashback daze, you laughed when he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the column of your throat. he smelled like soap, the slight stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin. as if your hips had a mind of their own, you grinded your clothed cunt against rafe’s thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the lack of friction.

“hey,” rafe cupped your tits through your flimsy night top, “you thought i wasn’t coming tonight, right? that’s what you said.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion before a gasp slipped from your mouth. “yes..” rafe trailed a hand underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. “so why don’t you have any panties on?” you froze, eyes flickering down to where rafe ran a finger between your folds. keening, you couldn’t help the moan from leaving your lips.

rafe stared at you for a moment, his eyes growing dark as he clamped a hand over your mouth. “i’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. ‘think you can stay quiet for me?” of course you couldn’t.. and rafe knew that. you stared at him with wide eyes, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took himself out of his pants. “i mean it. we don’t want your old man chasing me down with that shotgun of his, now do we?” you shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance.

you shrieked, his hips rolling into yours as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt. if it wasn’t for rafe’s hand muffling your scream you’re sure both of you would be in deep trouble right now. rafe rested his head on your pillow, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he started thrusting. feeling his weight on top of you like this had easily become your favorite thing, the closeness of it all made your heart sing. “fuck, i could never get used to this.. ‘feels like the first time all the time.” he grunted.

you held onto his wrist, your thighs hugging his waist as he kissed the side of your face. “taking me so fuckin’ good, you were made for me, yeah?” you whined, your eyes watering as rafe continuously hit that soft spot inside of you. your headboard started hitting the wall, a smirk gracing your boyfriend’s features. “rafe!” you whispered, tearing his hand away from your face. “s-slow down!” you attempted to push him away while simultaneously trying to keep your noises to yourself.

rafe picked up his pace, wrapping a hand around your throat. “can’t..” you shook your head, your chest rising and falling as the knocking of your headboard only got louder. rafe cursed under his breath when you cried out, working fast to get you turned over so he could push your head into the pillows. “what did i tell you?!” he scolded, landing a smack to your ass. you didn’t have any time to react to the stinging sensation on your backside, your orgasm washing over you once rafe started stroking your clit.

you fisted the sheets underneath you, biting down on your lip as white hot pleasure blinded your vision. rafe made no attempt to soothe you, instead he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling you up as he nipped at the sensitive skin in the curve of your neck. “sweetheart?” you gasped when your father’s voice sounded from the other side of your bedroom door. you cleared your throat, frozen in place as your door knob rattled. “answer him.” rafe spoke in your ear, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

“what?!” you stammered, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as rafe continued to rub hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “answer him or i’ll make you scream.” you wanted to shoot a sassy ‘you already did’, but you didn’t dare chance it. your chin wobbled, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. “y-yes?!” you called out, glaring at rafe over your shoulder when the sound of his hips slamming into you bounced off of the walls. “you alright in there?” you bit the back of your hand, your head falling weakly.

“is this a girl thing or somethin’, should i call your aunt?” your cheeks heated, a chuckle sounding from the man behind you. “no! i’m o-okay!” rafe pulled your hair again, his lips close to your ear as he whispered the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard. “what would your pops think, huh? catching his perfect little angel getting fucked like this..” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your knees slipping out from under you when rafe pushed you flat on your sheets.

“alright.. goodnight!” you ignored your father’s voice, the only thing your brain allowing you to process was rafe cumming inside of you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. “shittt,” he hissed, “son of a— fuck!” it was his turn to cover his mouth, his muscles constricting as you practically milked him for all he had. you reveled in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up, the thick ropes still connecting you two even after he pulled out.

you sighed, both you and rafe panting in the small space that was your room. “you okay, doll?” rafe kneeled down at your side, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips. blinking at him, you nodded before pulling him next to you. “it’s really late..” you yawned, glancing at the little clock on your bedside table. “i know.” rafe grumbled. there was nothing he hated more than having to leave you like this. wrapping his arms around your waist, rafe waited until you fell asleep before slipping out of your window again.

[aeroring]

oh yeah btw i added like 3 more pronouns to my blog description because lol i felt like it

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 2 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You try to forget the night with your neighbours by going on dates, but it doesn't go as planned. It goes better ;)

-OR-

Your hot MILF neighbours see you on a date and get jealous so they fuck you again

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, switch mommy Agatha, top daddy Rio, both are possessive, strap-ons, oral, double penetration, marking, degredation & praise kink, spanking, choking, orgasm denial, good bit of aftercare at the end

Words: 5.5k

A/N: If you thought it couldn't get any hornier you are very very mistaken. It is so much filthier than part 1

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Master List

Not For Sharing

Warmth envelops you as consciousness seeps back into your mind. A subtle, sweet scent lingers in the air—a mix of flowers and something distinctly comforting. You stir, the remnants of your dream still vivid: your impossibly hot neighbours had swept you off your feet, indulging in a passionate embrace and fucking you so good you’re pretty sure you died. The nights you dream of them are always that little bit better. Smiling, you let out a satisfied sigh, tugging the soft, firm thing in your arms closer. Must be a pillow, you think lazily, nuzzling into its warmth.

"Good morning, sweetheart," a familiar voice chuckles.

Your eyes snap open.

Agatha.

Not a pillow.

Not a dream...

You’re curled against her side, your head resting snugly on her stomach. She’s propped up slightly, her body warm and soft beneath you. An arm is draped around you, her hand brushing soothing strokes up and down your back as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. In her other hand, she holds a book, but as you blink up at her, she smiles and gently closes it, setting it aside.

"Mornin'," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. You barely resist the urge to bury your face back into her, your cheeks burning as the realisation of last night fully dawns on you.

Agatha leans down and kisses the top of your head. The simple gesture sends warmth flooding through you. She tilts your chin up gently, her eyes twinkling with something unreadable. "Your clothes from yesterday have been washed and dried," she says, her voice soft and matter-of-fact. "And Rio’s in the kitchen making breakfast for us."

Before you can respond, Rio strides into the room, three mugs of coffee balanced expertly in her hands. She hands one to Agatha with a quick peck on her lips, then holds another out to you.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she says with a teasing grin, her tone impossibly warm.

"Thanks," you mumble, taking the coffee. She slides onto the bed beside you, lifting an arm and raising an expectant brow.

"Shift over," Rio says, wiggling her fingers invitingly.

"Hey! I was enjoying the warmth," Agatha protests, mock-affronted.

"Yeah, well, you’ve been enjoying it for the past couple hours," Rio shoots back.

"Hours?!" you exclaim, heat rising to your cheeks again as you sit up, coffee clutched between your hands.

"Well, yes," Agatha says lightly. "You were clearly very tired." She doesn’t elaborate, her smile mysterious, and Rio just hums in agreement, leaning back against the headboard as she pulls you snugly against her side.

—

The three of you share a leisurely breakfast in the kitchen—pancakes, eggs, and endless cups of coffee. Agatha and Rio exchange easy, affectionate banter, occasionally roping you into the conversation. They’re warm and welcoming, making you feel at home despite the lingering butterflies in your stomach.

"We were thinking of taking you out today," Agatha says as you finish the last of your coffee. "Just something casual. Then we’ll drop you off at the train station later."

Rio nods. "Sound good?"

You blink, momentarily startled by their kindness. "Yeah," you say softly. "Thanks."

They wave it off, smiling, and you excuse yourself to get changed into your freshly laundered clothes.

—

The day unfolds with relaxed simplicity. First, they take you to a cosy bookshop tucked into a quiet side street. Rio pulls a ridiculous rom-com novel off the shelf and insists on reading the blurb aloud, much to Agatha’s exasperation. Next, you stroll through a park, the crisp air filling your lungs as you wander past street performers and families enjoying their weekend. They buy you a coffee from a nearby cart, Agatha teasing you when you nearly spill it on yourself.

Afterward, they take you to a charming little boutique, where Agatha insists you try on a scarf that matches your eyes. “Perfect,” she declares, adjusting it around your neck with a soft smile.

By lunchtime, they lead you to a small, bustling restaurant with mismatched chairs and walls covered in framed photographs. The food is delicious—warm and filling—and the conversation flows easily. It feels surreal, sitting across from the two of them as if you’ve known them forever.

As the meal winds down, Agatha pulls your phone out of your hand. "We’re putting our numbers in," she announces, typing quickly, before sliding the phone to Rio, who does the same.

"We already have yours," Rio says, her voice warm. "If you ever need anything—anything at all—just give us a call or shoot us a text."

You nod, touched, and tuck the phone back into your pocket.

—

The drive to the train station feels bittersweet. They both walk you to the platform, hugging you when the train approaches.

"Thank you," you say again, your voice earnest as you meet their gazes.

Agatha’s smile is soft, her eyes lingering on you. "Take care, sweetheart."

"Don’t be a stranger," Rio adds, nudging your arm.

You wave goodbye as you board the train, watching them until they disappear from view. The train begins to move, and you sink into your seat, warmth blooming in your chest. You’re not sure what last night meant—or if you’ll ever fully understand it—but you know one thing for certain: you’ll never forget it.

—

It’s been five weeks since that weekend, and they still occupy your every thought. The scent of them in the air, the warmth of their arms, the gentle cadence of their laughter—it all plays on a loop in your mind. You’ve gone on a few dates with other people since then, trying to distract yourself, but nothing compares. Nothing satisfies.

A few nights ago, things hit a new low. In the midst of a heated hookup, as your date left a mark on your neck, you’d moaned Rio’s name. Somehow, you managed to laugh it off and keep going, but minutes later, when Agatha’s name slipped out, the whole thing came to an abrupt halt. You were left flustered, wet, and unsatisfied—wanting Rio and Agatha with a desperate ache you couldn’t shake.

You’ve thought about texting them. A thousand messages drafted and then deleted. What would you even say? They haven’t messaged you, either, you think. Were they waiting for you? Or was that weekend nothing more than a fun, fleeting indulgence for them—a way to “mix things up,” as Agatha had casually put it?

Tonight, you’re determined to move on. 

As you finish getting ready, you remind yourself to put them out of your mind. Your new date seems funny enough, and meeting them at a trendy bar feels like a step in the right direction. You’re going to have fun tonight. You’re going to be present.

—

The bar is loud and bustling, neon lights reflecting off polished surfaces. You try to focus on your date, but within minutes, it’s clear they’re not who you hoped they’d be. Their jokes are flat, their smile forced, and they’ve been unreasonably rude to the waitstaff. You make a mental note to leave as soon as politeness allows.

Then you see Agatha and Rio walk in, commanding the room without even trying. They’re magnetic, glowing under the low lighting, and your heart stumbles in your chest. What are they doing here? You’ve never seen them around before; okay, yes, they only live a few hours drive away, but their sudden appearance feels like a sign, though you’re unsure of what.

Agatha’s gaze sweeps across the room and lands on you. Her brows lift slightly, and a smirk tugs at her lips. Rio follows her line of sight, her expression shifting to something warmer—though there’s a flicker of irritation when her eyes land on your date. They exchange a look, and then both of them start making their way over.

Your date notices your distraction and huffs. “You gonna stop staring and pay attention to me, or...” Their tone is sharp, and they snap their fingers in your face.

Before you can reply, Agatha and Rio arrive at your table, flanking you on either side.

"Well, hello there," Agatha purrs, her voice warm but laced with something sharper. She leans in slightly, brushing her fingers lightly over your shoulder. "Fancy seeing you here."

Rio crosses her arms, her gaze fixed on your date. “Interesting company you’re keeping tonight,” she says, her tone neutral but her eyes anything but.

Your date bristles, clearly annoyed. “Who the hell are you two?”

Agatha straightens, her smile cool. “Friends. Good friends.” Her hand lingers on the back of your chair, fingers drumming casually but possessively.

Rio, meanwhile, focuses on you, her brow furrowed in faint concern. “You okay here?”

Your date scoffs. “We were just fine until you two showed up.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Is that so?” Her gaze shifts to you, her expression softening just slightly. “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Caught between them, you feel a mix of relief and embarrassment. You start to protest, trying to play it cool. “Guys, it’s fine. I—”

Agatha cuts you off, her voice firm but not unkind. “Sweetheart, we could see you weren’t enjoying yourself from across the room.”

Rio nods, her hand brushing against your arm. “You’re more than welcome to join us instead.”

Your date mutters something under their breath that sounds suspiciously like “fucking bitches," but Agatha and Rio ignore them entirely, their focus solely on you. The weight of their attention is overwhelming, and before you can fully process it, Agatha has her arm around your shoulder, guiding you out of your seat. Rio follows closely, her presence solid and reassuring.

—

They take you to an upscale restaurant, one far fancier than anywhere you’d normally go. You hesitate at the entrance, your protests spilling out in a rush. “This is too much—I can’t afford—”

“Our treat,” Agatha interrupts smoothly, holding the door open with a smile as Rio guides you forward, her hand firmly pushing on the small of your back.

The staff greets them by name—clearly they are regulars—and they lead the three of you to a cosy corner table. The atmosphere is intimate, the low lighting casting a golden glow. Over starters and mains, the tension between you shifts. What started as awkwardness melts into something electric.

Agatha and Rio tease you gently, their words laced with warmth and playful innuendo. Rio brushes her hand over yours when she reaches for the salt, and Agatha’s gaze lingers on your lips when you speak. The air between you crackles, the chemistry undeniable.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’re scratching absently at your neck, pulling the collar of your top aside. You don’t notice their gazes locking on the faint hickey, but you do feel the subtle shift in the room’s energy. Rio’s hand tightens on her wife’s thigh, and Agatha’s smile takes on a sharper edge.

Their questions come fast and pointed. “So, you’ve clearly been busy making friends since we last saw you?” Agatha asks, her tone deceptively casual.

Rio leans in, her eyes piercing. “What made you pick tonight’s winner?”

You stammer through answers, feeling their scrutiny like a physical touch. The intensity of their attention is both unnerving and thrilling.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you take a moment to breathe. But as you wash your hands, the door opens, and Agatha steps inside. She leans against the counter beside you, her gaze heavy.

“Rio’s paying the bill,” she says, her voice low. Then her eyes drop to your neckline. “What’s this?” She tugs lightly at your collar, revealing the faint mark.

Heat floods your cheeks. “I—it’s nothing.”

She doesn’t respond, just steps closer, her hand brushing your arm. “We told you,” she murmurs, her voice dropping, “if you needed anything, you should call us.”

“I thought you meant a ride or—”

Her lips cut off your protest, the kiss firm and possessive. When she pulls back, her hand lingers on your arm, her eyes dark with intent. "Come,” she insists.

The air is thick with tension as Agatha’s hand wraps firmly around your bicep, her grip unyielding but not harsh. She leads you out of the bathroom without a word, and the sight of Rio waiting outside sends a fresh wave of heat through your body. Rio’s dark, smouldering gaze meets yours, and without hesitation, she steps forward, flanking you as Agatha moves to the other side.

The three of you walk in silence, their presence commanding, leaving no room for anything but anticipation. They don’t speak, and neither do you; trailing just behind them, your mind races. The click of their shoes on the pavement echoes in your ears, their hands brushing your arms or back every so often, steadying you, anchoring you.

—

When you reach a hotel, the atmosphere shifts. They lead you through the grand entrance, past a curious concierge, and into the waiting elevator. The doors close, and the small space amplifies everything—Agatha’s scent, Rio’s presence, the sheer weight of their eyes on you.

Agatha moves first, her hands gripping your waist as she pulls you to her. “We told you to call us,” she murmurs against your ear, her voice low and commanding, her fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you shiver.

Rio joins in, her hand finding its way to the back of your neck. “Yet, there you were, clinging to some asshole,” she growls, her tone laced with irritation and something much darker. Her fingers tighten, forcing you to meet her gaze.

The elevator dings, the sound barely registering as they usher you out, their hands firm and guiding. They walk you down the plushly carpeted hallway, their pace unrelenting, and when they reach the room, Agatha pulls out the key card with practiced ease. The door swings open, and you’re all but pushed inside.

The air in the room feels charged, the door clicking shut behind you like the finality of a lock. You barely have a moment to take in your surroundings before they close in on you.

“You were supposed to ask us,” Agatha says, her voice sharp as she steps closer, her eyes blazing. “For anything. For everything.”

Rio crosses her arms, her jaw set tight. “Instead, we find that you’ve been busy making friends,” she demands, her tone snearing at the final word.

You stumble over your words, your pulse racing. “I—I wasn’t trying to— It’s just, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I thought maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Agatha snaps, cutting you off. “That you could distract yourself by throwing yourself at the first person who looked at you?”

“Yes! Wait, no!” You stammer. “All of the dates were just distractions, but none of them could get you guys out of my head.” You knew instantly you had messed up.

Rio’s eyes narrow. “All of the dates?” She repeats, her voice artificially soft.

“Uhhh… yeah, there’s been more than who you saw tonight,” you admit weakly, instantly regretting it when Agatha’s eyes flash with something dangerous.

“Clearly,” Rio hisses, stepping closer. Her hand shoots out, gripping your face firmly and tilting your head up so you can’t escape her gaze. “You are nothing but a common whore. I mean, just look at your neck.”

Agatha’s voice joins in, smooth and biting. “You’re ours. Don’t you get it? Ours. Not theirs, not anyone else’s.”

Your breath hitches, and you nod as best you can with Rio’s hand still holding your face. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, what?” Rio prompts, her tone sharp.

“Y-yes, Mommy,” you manage, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

The effect is immediate. Rio’s lips crash against yours, the kiss claiming and consuming. Her fingers dig into your jaw, holding you in place as her tongue sweeps over yours, leaving you dizzy and breathless. 

Then Agatha’s voice fills the space, low and possessive.

“We’re not sharing you with anyone else,” she declares, her presence suddenly behind you. Her hands snake around your waist, pulling you flush against her as her mouth finds the mark on your neck. She bites down, hard enough to make you gasp into Rio’s mouth, and then she soothes the sting with her tongue before sucking hard, ensuring her mark overlays the one already there.

Her hands begin to roam, firm and deliberate. They slide under your top, her nails raking lightly over your skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. One hand moves upward, cupping your breast, while the other drifts downward, deftly undoing the buttons of your pants.

“You’re ours,” Agatha murmurs against your skin, her voice like a promise and a warning all at once. Her hand slips into your underwear, her touch confident and unapologetic, as her mouth continues its path along your neck.

Rio finally breaks the kiss. “Is that understood?” She asks, her tone brooking no argument as she watches you with hooded eyes, her fingers brushing the edge of your jaw.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, voice catching as Agatha’s fingers ghost over your clit. The words hang in the air, heavy with intent. 

It was a stab in the dark to use the term for Rio; you have no clue if she likes it or not. However, judging by the look on her face and the way she bit down on her own lip, it was a good choice.

Agatha chuckles against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. “Good,” she murmurs, her hand moving with purpose. “Now let’s remind you exactly who you belong to.”

Rio starts kissing you again; it’s needy, like she’s trying to consume you. Meanwhile, both of Agatha’s hands find their way back to your waist, her fingers hooking under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with a firm motion. You feel her sink to her knees and bite your ass cheek as she helps you step out of your pants, and you let out a small yelp.

You feel Rio smile against your lips before pulling back and spinning you to face Agatha. She playfully nips at the shell of your ear before trailing her mouth lower, sucking and biting at your jaw and the sensetive spot behind your ear. Just as she licks a stripe up your neck, Agatha’s open mouth presses against your core.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, shuddering slightly.

“You’re so pathetic,” Agatha breathes, “you’ve ruined your underwear, like the slut you really are.” She drags her tongue over you slowly, tasting your arousal through the fabric. Not wanting to miss out, Rio’s hand lightly bats away Agatha’s head so she can cup you through your underwear, and you feel her exhale shakily against your ear from how wet you are. 

Your head drops backwards in pleasure, but Rio’s other hand is there in an instant, forcing your gaze down to Agatha. “Don’t forget, you need to look at Mommy, baby.”

From this angle, you can see straight down the front of Agatha’s sleek black halterneck dress. It’s plunging neckline had offered you a tantalising view at dinner, but this was something else entirely.

“Thank you, my love; you can get ready now,” Agatha states, coming up to stand next to you. She grasps your hair and roughly drags you to the bed, shoving your face down so you’re bent over the mattress. She clasps your wrists behind your back, securing them with makeshift cuffs made from a belt. 

Just as you’re wondering exactly where she got the belt from, you feel her lean down, pressing into your back. “If you’re going to act like a harlot, then we’ll treat you as such,” she whispers in your ear. 

She places a hand between your thighs and starts rubbing gently, and despite her calm demeanour, you can hear her breathing get more ragged. She pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side and starts ghosting her fingers over your clit. “We’re going to make sure you never ever forget who you belong to,” she whispers before thrusting two fingers inside you. 

You gasp slightly at the feeling, but your arousal soon coats her fingers, and the movements become smooth as you adjust to her. Even though it had been on your mind since you woke up in her bed, you had forgotten just how good sex with Agatha felt. You can feel her grinding into you as she’s fucking you, clearly desperate for some friction herself.

Suddenly she stops and climbs off you; you’re about to protest when your underwear gets ripped off. 

“Well, they were already ruined, and they’re just going to get in the way,” you hear Rio’s voice chuckle behind you. 

You’re expecting them to start touching you, but instead you hear sucking, and maybe... was that the sound of a gag? You crane your head back trying to see what’s happening, and the sight causes an involuntary moan to escape your lips: Agatha was kneeling in front of a naked Rio, her head bobbing back and forth. You can see a part of the dildo not in Agatha’s mouth, but you don’t see a harness.

“Is that a..."

“Yes, baby, I’m going to feel every thrust just as much as you; Agatha’s just getting this end ready for you," Rio answers. You actually feel yourself start to drip, and watch as Rio takes a sharp inhale as it trickles down your thigh. “I think they’re more than ready for me now, my love,” she adds, tugging softly at Agatha’s hair.

Agatha releases the strap but pushes down on it slightly, making Rio’s hips jolt as the other end shifts inside her. 

Regaining her composure, Rio strides over to you and grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you up so you’re arched into her. You feel the strap glide over your heat, and you can’t help but grind into it, moaning at the smallest bit of pressure against your clit. Rio lines up with your entrance and pushes the tip in before quickly withdrawing.

“Who do you belong to?” she groans, thrusting into you. But before you can adjust, she pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. All you can do is whine.

You hear a loud smack as Rio’s open palm hits your bare ass. “I asked you a question.”

It stings, but the pain blurs into pleasure as you feel another brief thrust in and out. 

“You,” you moan, wanting to get fucked properly.

There’s fresh pain as Rio smacks you again.

“Daddy. I belong to you, Daddy.” It comes out as a sob, far more desperate than you’ve ever heard yourself.

“Mhmm, that’s it, sweetheart. Now I’m going to tell you exactly how Mommy likes to be eaten out, and you’re going to be a good pet and do exactly what I say, okay?” She presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Yes, Daddy.”

With your agreement, Rio releases you from your restraints and starts fucking you, her movements rough and deep. Agatha lies down in front of you, her legs spread, and you can see just how wet she is.

“I’d say you need to start by warming her up, but by the looks of it, she already is,” Rio says greadily. Then it was her turn to moan as your body jerks back into her from a particularly deep thrust.

“Well, since you decided to disobey us, watching Daddy teach you a lesson has really got me going," Agatha teases, “but I still need to feel your mouth on me, pet.”

You obey and bring your mouth close to Agatha’s pussy; you’re about to begin when you feel Rio smack you again between her thrusts. “I haven’t told you to do anything yet,” she snarls. “Start with broad licks up and down; you’ll need to pin her hips as Mommy’s rather sensitive and tends to squirm around.”

“Rio,” Agatha warns, giving you the impression she still has control over the woman behind you.

You do as you’re told and begin licking firm but broad. Rio was right; Agatha was very sensitive, and she bucks her hips every time you get near her clit. She buries her hands in your hair and pushes you into her. “Yes. Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

Rio’s nails bite into your hip where she’s holding you, and she starts to thrust even harder. Her moans are loud and gutteral. “Okay, now start to circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.” Her voice is breathy. “Fuck, okay, fuck, I’m getting close,” she pants. “And every so often you should put your lips around it and suck a little.”

Once again you do as you’re told, and once again Agatha starts to writhe beneath you, grinding against your face. Rio wraps an arm around your waist, her fingers stroking your clit, and you moan at the added stimulation, so close to climaxing. 

The vibrations push Agatha even closer to her own orgasm as she gasps, "Mmm, I love what you’re doing, but I swear to fuck, if you don’t put your fingers inside me right now, pet, I will RUIN you.”

You’re torn. On the one hand, you want to make Agatha cum, but on the other, Rio hasn’t told you to do that yet, and you don’t want to find out what happens if you disobey her.

A hand wraps around your neck, squeezing just a bit, and Rio pulls you up; she stills her hips, but her fingers keep going. “Mommy gave you an order, sweetheart.” With no further warning, she pulls out and shoves you down next to Agatha. “Now you don’t get to cum until she has.”

You whine at the empty feeling, but it soon turns into a whimper as you watch Rio push the strap into Agatha, not even bothering to wipe it clean. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you start to fuck yourself when all of a sudden Rio’s hand is back around your throat. “Uh uh, bad pets don’t get to touch themselves.” She turns her head, looking at her wife. “I’m sorry, darling. You’re going to have to touch yourself since this slut can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“I mean, technically, I was keeping them to myself. You know since I was touching myself and not either of you.” You’re smiling, proud of the loophole you found, until you spot how both women are glaring at you, realising the magnitude of your mistake.

“Oh no. Oh no no no,” Agatha scolds. “You will keep your mouth shut, your hands on the headboard, and your face to the wall until we say otherwise.”

You get up, crawling to the top of the bed, head drooping at the realisation that you won’t even get to watch them cum.

The room is quickly filled with moans and gasps as Rio and Agatha help each other through their orgasms, but it doesn’t stop, and you’re pretty sure that they go for rounds two and three. Pressing your thighs together, you grit your teeth, determined not to disobey them again. 

It feels like it’s been an eternity, but finally you hear Agatha call you back, and when you turn around to look at them, they are a complete mess with red bite marks scattered across both of their chests. Rio turns, grabbing something from her bag, and you see the large scratch marks Agatha has left all down her back. 

“Thank you, my love.” Agatha says, taking whatever it was Rio had grabbed. "Now, pet, you are going to ride Daddy’s cock, and I will join you in a minute.”

You nod, excited to hopefully get some reprieve from the ache of having your orgasm denied. “Yes, Mommy,” you add quickly, trying to avoid another punishment.

Rio lies down on her back, pulling you into a quick kiss. “Clean it first.” 

Humming with excitement, you lower your head and take the strap in your mouth; it’s still warm from being inside Agatha, and you groan at the taste of her on it. 

You only get a few seconds before Rio pulls you away, guiding your hips so you’re straddling her, hovering over the strap. “You look so perfect like this,” her voice is soft and encouraging. You lower yourself down and let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “So perfect,” she repeats.

“You feel so good,” you moan, starting to roll your hips.

Her hands grip your waist, helping you up and down, but it’s not enough, and she starts thrusting up into you. You stutter and fall forward into Rio, all your strength sapped from your muscles as she hits the perfect spot.

Agatha comes up behind you, her hand stroking your back. “Do you think you can take more, sweetheart?”

"Mhmm” is all you can manage before burying your head in Rio’s neck.

You were expecting some stimulation on your clit or maybe Agatha replacing Rio with something bigger. What you weren't expecting, however, was Agatha to push her own strap in as well. It stretches you at first, making you feel wonderfully full. 

“Oh fuck,” you mewl, biting down on Rio’s neck to suppress your moans

Agatha starts to move, causing you to cry out in pleasure. The sound encourages her, and she starts to bare down harder. “You’re taking us so well, baby.” 

Rio hums in agreement. The force of Agatha’s thrusts sending fresh waves of pleasure through her. She drags her nails up your back, digging in with every jolt of your hips. “Don’t you ever forget who you belong to again,” she whispers, starting to mark your neck and shoulders with her mouth, and you feel your stomach start to knot.

Desperate for just that little bit more, you start begging. “Please, please, I need more.” 

You grab Agatha’s hand and shove it between your legs. Chuckling softly, she gives you what you need, and your orgasm comes crashing over you. 

It takes a few minutes, but both of them pull out when your legs finally stop shaking. Rio lets you lie on her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “You did so good for us,” she purrs, pressing kisses to your temple and running her fingers through your hair.

You hear Agatha turn on the shower as she cleans up the toys, returning to the bed when she’s done. “Sweetheart, do you need anything?”

You shake your head weakly at Agatha’s question, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasm. Rio strokes your hair gently, her fingers trailing soothing patterns down your back. “You sure, baby?” Agatha presses, leaning down to run a hand along your calf, her touch grounding and warm. “Water? A snack? Anything at all?”

You finally manage to whisper, “Water, maybe.”

Agatha nods, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll be right back.” She kisses your knee softly before disappearing into the adjoining room. Rio continues her ministrations, cradling you as if you might drift away. “Just breathe, love,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your hairline. “We’ve got you.”

Agatha returns moments later with a glass of water and a cool, damp cloth. She perches beside you on the bed, offering the water with one hand while using the cloth to dab tenderly at your flushed face and neck. “There you go,” she coos, her voice soft and melodic. “Nice and slow.”

You sip the water, feeling the cool liquid revive you slightly. Agatha takes the glass once you’ve had your fill and sets it on the bedside table before tucking the blanket around you more snugly. “You did so well, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing lightly over your arm. “We’re so proud of you.”

After a while, Agatha glances at Rio and tilts her head toward the bathroom. “Let’s clean up, darling,” she says softly, giving your leg a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll feel even better after a warm shower.”

Rio carefully helps you sit up, her arms still supporting you as your legs wobble slightly. She and Agatha guide you to the bathroom, where the steam from the shower has already fogged up the mirror. The warmth of the room wraps around you as Agatha steps into the shower first, adjusting the water temperature before holding out a hand to you. “Come here, love.”

You step in with their help, the hot water cascading over you instantly soothing your sore muscles. Agatha stands behind you, massaging your shoulders and neck, while Rio lathers up a soft washcloth, gently cleansing your skin. Their touches are tender, unhurried, and filled with care. Agatha presses a kiss to your damp shoulder as she rinses you off, while Rio keeps her gaze locked on yours, a soft smile playing on her lips.

When they’re satisfied that you’re fully relaxed and clean, they wrap you in a fluffy towel and guide you back to the bed. The sheets have been straightened, and the pillows fluffed, creating a cosy nest that feels like heaven when you crawl back in. Rio slides in beside you, pulling you against her chest once more, while Agatha climbs in on your other side, her arm draping protectively over both of you.

“Better now?” Agatha asks, her voice a quiet hum as she brushes a strand of hair from your face.

You nod, a content sigh escaping your lips. “Much better. Thank you.”

Rio chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Anything for our pet.”

-----

As always, please like and reblog if you enjoyed :)

I have a few ideas for more chapters if people want??

Edit: Comment if you want to be added to the taglist for future chapters :)) - you must have your age in your bio

Part 3 out now

[j-nope-not-today]

HP characters reaction to s/o being a muggle

Harry Potter

He does not care

Literally doesn't have an opinion on the subject

Bc he loves youuu and not your magic or non magical abilities

I really feel that his main concern is some snobby witch/wizard being rude to you

But could give a fuck less if anyone commented on you being a muggle

"Okay and? So what if she/he can't do magic. She's/he's still great in bed."

10/10 will say some snarky/sarcastic ass shit if someone is rude to you about it.

He is THE Harry Potter

He would probably love for someone to point it out so he can say some shit back about it.

He will defend you through thick and thin.

May god have mercy on whatever poor soul wants to be prejudice against you.

Will love doing muggle things with you. I mean he did grow up as a muggle.

Otherwise though he loves you and your muggleness very much. It reminds him of home ❤️

Ron Weasley

Aww your his little cutie patootie

Will brag about it to anyone who will listen

"Oh? Well my gf/bf made me dinner from scratch."

He'll brag about literally anything he can. It could be the simplest shit too

Is very impressed that you do everything and without magic too

He'll start doing things without magic just to appreciate the simplicity of it

But yeah..definitely tells everyone and their mom about how proud he is to be with you

Ain't no one gonna be rude about it either. He will guaranteed shut that shit down as soon as it starts.

Fred Weasley

He loves it.

Loves absolutely everything about it

Not to mention he loves it even more because romancing you is so much more fun for him

Will always pull a fancy magic trick from out of his sleeve to impress you or flirt with you

"For you beautiful"

Does complain about doing things without magic

But will begrudgingly do so to please you

But yes. He will complain about it the entire time

I don't think anyone would be ballsy enough to insult you or say some rude shit about you being a muggle

Knowing fred that would start world War 3

But he looooves you. Vv much

George Weasley

Admires you so so much

Bc how do you do it?

Will watch you do the simplest most mundane shit and come out of nowhere with a

"My god you look so fucking gorgeous right now love."

Wouldn't complain about helping you do stuff without magic

I think he finds he enjoys it much more without magic. It's more rewarding

Will beg to do muggle things with you absolutely wants to experience it all

Just like with fred. Ain't no one ballsy enough to say something lest they want to die

But he absolutely adores you and everything about you

And will remind you every day how much he loves you

Draco Malfoy

He didn't expect to end up with you

But he sure isn't complaining

And he'll be damned if you lift a single beautiful fucking finger when he's around

He will 100% dote on you in his every waking moment

For a second you might be convinced you aren't a muggle

He uses magic for just about everything and will not let you do something when he can do it for you

"Listen dear it's just simpler this way. Let me do it."

Your spoiled and he'll make sure you know how appreciated and loved you are

Can never wrap his head around muggles.

Thinks you make everything way more complicated than it needs to be

And should anyone be insulting or rude. They might find themselves hexed or cursed.

Neville Longbottom

This man LOVES you

Will not for a second let you think otherwise

And he'll probably absolutely love doing muggle things with you

And you will have a garden

I can just see him loving gardening with you. The muggle way.

Will randomly whip out flowers and small little gifts for you

Just to impress you

And he'll definitely have words for anyone who wants to be rude to you because how dare they?

To him. Your absolutely perfect

[thinkinonsense]

Logan thought of the day from a fan!::

Old man Logan being all domestic with someone around his age. I don’t think a lot of people think about the concept but I genuinely enjoy the thought of Logan having a wife he’s desperately in love with. Been married to for years on end 😭😭 him calling her sweet nicknames, combing her hair or buying her things he knows she loves.

(NSFW thoughts just for the hell of it: him still being an amazing lover in bed. Like sure the man isn’t as fast or agile as he used to be, but he can still absolutely ruin your shit. Pouring all of his love into you in the absolutely most animalistic manner possible before collapsing cause his back hurt like a mf)

You don’t have to write anything you’re uncomfortable with but those were just my thoughts! Love your blog, take care 🙂‍↕️💚

aw! this is such a cute concept! i'm currently working on a series rn but i wanna write a full blurb about this in the future<3

old man!logan with a mature!reader

over the years, you and logan have definitely been through some shit. full on yelling matches, jealousy, near death experiences, all of it. no matter what, he always comes back to you with those water colored eyes that you adored so much.

idk why but i think logan would enjoy the simplicity of doing things like laundry, cooking, and dishes together. he always says he wants to help you but somehow his hands sneak up your sweater and his lips always end up on your neck.

late at night, logan will pull you on top of his chest and play with your hair until you fall asleep. during the day, he will put your hair up for you or style it in a simple brain if you need his help.

old man logan loooovvveeesss passionate kisses. you're always running late to work in the morning because logan can't simply give you a quick peck on the lips.

when you two finally have the 'kids' conversation, something snaps in logan. he's constantly hard just even thinking about getting you pregnant.

logan definitely wants a little girl for many reasons but especially because he's worried that if he had a son, he would only inherit the worst of logan's traits.

the two of you never had an actual wedding and nothings official but logan gave you a ring that you never part with. neither of you need a piece of paper to prove your love to each other.

old man logan can still put it DOWN in the bedroom. it's not as rough or fast as it used to be but he still leaves you whimpering and seeing stars.

he thrives off of taking this slow. logan loves making your legs shake and building up your high.

he wears his wedding band on the same chain as his dog tags because he's afraid of it busting due to his claws.

you love putting on an old record late at night while he smokes and you lay in his lap, reading a book. just enjoying each others company.

you are the only person that gets to see logan in his most vulnerable state. he lets you wrap up his scars, clean his claws, kiss the tender and bloody flesh.

logan always promises that he's done fighting but you know the truth.

he's a sweet talker when your irritated at him.

one time you joke about getting old, something about wrinkles or not looking as pretty as when the two of you first met. logan doesn't let it slide. he spends all night long assuring you that you are still as beautiful as the day he first saw you.

[burrowlvrr]

— NOT LONG AGO, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Joe and Y/N can't believe how far they've come. From taking a pregnancy test in a dorm room, to washing dishes while the babies watch a movie.

NOTE: I got a MacBook and forgot how to act, writing on this thing is so much fun Lord help me. I thought this was kinda cute, shows a lil different side of our couple but its low-key the shortest thing I've written so far, unfortunately :( but enjoy and ignore any errors! <3

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

The house was unusually quiet, a rare reprieve in the Burrow household. The twins, Hudson and Elijah, were snuggled up on the couch under a thick blanket, captivated by the colorful characters on the TV screen. Their little giggles and whispers occasionally broke the stillness. Outside, the cold December wind howled, but the warmth of their Cincinnati home kept the chill at bay.

Y/N stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing the last of the dinner plates. The glow from the under-cabinet lights cast a soft radiance over her face, and she hummed a tune under her breath, content in the moment.

Joe appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. His gaze lingered on her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he called softly. “Why don’t you let me handle these? Go hang out with the boys for a bit.” He nodded toward the couch where their sons were quietly enjoying the movie.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smile. “Y'know how this works, Burrow. I wash, you rinse.” She handed him a freshly cleaned plate, their fingers brushing briefly.

Joe chuckled, stepping forward to take his place beside her at the sink. “Fair enough. I just hate seein' you doing all the work when you’ve been chasing after them all day.”

“I like this part,” she replied softly, dipping her hands back into the soapy water. “It’s peaceful. Plus, we’re a team, remember?”

Their routine continued, the rhythmic sounds of dishes clinking and water running filling the air. The moment felt perfect in its simplicity.

“Remember when we found out?” Joe started, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia. Y/N looked at him briefly, shaking her head as she let out a soft giggle.

“How could I forget? You ran nearly three miles across campus to get to my dorm, Joe.” She replied, and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, "How do you think I got the Heisman?"

★

Back in 2019, Joe and Y/N were basically still kids. Seniors in college, but still kids. Y/N had finals coming up for her Bachelor's degree, and word around campus was that Joe would be nominated for this year's Heisman. They were both rather successful in their academics and sports--but this, no level of success could prepare a college student for a positive pregnancy test.

She sat on the floor of her dorm room, her back pressed against the bed-frame, knees pulled to her chest. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. The pregnancy tests were on the bathroom counter, both of them untouched—her mind racing in panic, holding her back from using the tests alone.

When Joe picked up, his voice was steady but laced with concern. “Y/N? Hey, babe. What's up?”

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel her chest tightening.

“Y/N,” Joe said, his voice firmer now. “Breathe, okay? I’m coming. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line disconnected before she could respond, and she stared at the phone in her trembling hands, her tears falling freely.

Meanwhile, Joe was already running. He bolted out of the locker room, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his cleats barely tied. The cold air stung his face as he sprinted across campus from the football field to the girls’ dorms. Students turned to watch as he sped past, but he didn’t care.

By the time he reached her door, he was panting, his chest heaving from the exertion. He pushed it open without hesitation and dropped his duffel bag to the floor. The sight of Y/N, curled up and trembling, hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Y/N,” he breathed, moving toward her. She stood shakily, meeting him halfway, and threw her arms around his neck. Her sobs were muffled against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, hey,” Joe murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart. "I think I—I'm pregnant." She choked out, a hand going to her mouth to try and cover the hiccups.

"I'm too scared to touch them, Joe." She sobbed, and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm here now."

They stood there for a moment before Joe left a kiss on her tanned forehead, brushing a stray curl away from her face and tilting her chin upward. "I'll stand right beside you. I'll even hold your hand if you want me to."

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, "Now's not the time to be humorous, Burrow." She roughly wiped her tears away before making her way to the bathroom, turning around with a waiting expression—hoping Joe was on her heels, which he was.

She took both tests while Joe stood a few inches away, looking away out of respect but still turning around to check on her every few moments. Y/N quickly washed her hands, taking the tests and grabbing Joe's hand, leading him to her bed. They both sat on the edge, the two plastic tests lying in between them. Face down.

At least six minutes had passed now, and Joe couldn't stop his leg from bouncing. Y/N stared at them as if they might explode, her hands trembling slightly.

"You should check." Joe said, breaking the silence, his voice low and steady. Y/N whipped her head in his direction, "Me? You check it!"

Joe shook his head by then decided against arguing. He sighed, leaning over, and then hesitating for a moment. His fingers hovering over the tests, "Okay, but...don't we kinda already know?"

"Just look, Joe." She snapped, her voice higher-pitched than usual. She squeezed her eyes shut out of fear, as Joe flipped the tests over and freezes. His jaw tightened, but he doesn't speak right away.

"Joe," Y/N whispers, her heart pounding in her chest. "What does it say?"

"Positive." he says, barely above a whisper.

The words hit her like a freight train. She slumps back into the couch, her head in her hands. "Oh my God," she mutters, her voice cracking. "This can’t be happening. I can’t—"

"Y/N," Joe starts, but she cuts him off, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

"My mama is going to kill me," she says, sitting up straight now, her hands flying. "You don’t understand, Joe. And my daddy's always lecturing me about ‘staying focused’ and ‘not ruining my future.’ This is exactly what he meant! They’re never going to forgive me for this!"

Joe stands, walking over to her and crouching down. "Hey," he says softly, placing a hand on her knee, but she jerks away, jumping to her feet.

"And what about graduation?" she continues, pacing the room now. "Three months, Joe! We graduate in three months! Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? Diapers, formula, doctor visits… How are we supposed to afford that?"

Joe stays quiet, letting her vent. She turns to him suddenly, her eyes wide. "You don’t even have a job lined up yet! And me? I don’t know if my internship is going to turn into anything. We have nothing, Joe. Nothing!"

"Y/N," he says firmly, standing up.

She doesn’t stop. "I’m not ready for this! We’re not ready for this! I can’t—"

"Y/N!" he says louder, his voice cutting through her panic. She freezes, her chest heaving.

He takes a step closer, his voice calmer now. "Listen to me. I know this wasn’t the plan, okay? I get it. But I am going pro. You know I’ve been working toward the draft, and my agent is confident I’ll get picked. I’m gonna make it, Y/N. And when I do, we’ll be okay."

She stares at him, shaking her head. "Joe, the draft isn’t guaranteed. What if something goes wrong? What if you don’t get picked? What if—"

"I will," he interrupts, his tone steady. "I will. I’m not just doing this for me anymore—I’m doing it for you. For us. For this baby."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn’t say anything. Joe steps closer, taking her hands in his. "I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But we’ve got each other, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you and this baby are taken care of. I promise you that."

Tears spill over her cheeks as she looks at him. "You’re so sure about everything, but I’m not. My parents are going to see this as the end of my life, Joe. The end of everything I’ve worked for."

He nods, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Then we’ll prove them wrong. We’ll show them that this isn’t the end—it’s just a new beginning. You’re still going to graduate, Y/N. You’re still going to chase your dreams. And we’ll figure the rest out together."

She exhales shakily, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around her. "I just… I don’t know how we’re going to do this."

"One step at a time," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "We’ll start by telling our parents. Together."

She pulls back, giving him a doubtful look. "That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to hear my dad’s lecture about how I’ve ‘thrown my life away.’"

Joe chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, but I’ll be right there with you. And if he tries to kill me, I’ll just tell him I’m going pro—maybe that’ll distract him."

Despite herself, Y/N laughs through her tears. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he says, grinning. "But I love you. And I love this baby, even if it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me."

She looks at him, her expression softening. "I love you too."

He pulls her back into his arms, holding her tightly. For the first time all night, she lets herself believe him.

★

Back in their kitchen, the married couple laughs in unison as they recalled the dinner where they told both of their parents. "Oh my gosh! Daddy almost jumped across that table at you!"

"I was scared!" Joe laughed loudly, covering his mouth when he saw Hudson's head pop up over the top of the couch. "Your dad is very intimidating."

"Well, you survived." Y/N insisted, "And we both know I thought my life was over." Joe playfully frowned, "You were pacing so much before that dinner, babe. I thought you were gonna burn a hole in the carpet."

She flicks a bit of water at him, rolling her eyes. "Well, excuse me for being a little freaked out. It wasn’t exactly a normal Tuesday, you know? We were graduating in three months, broke as hell, and had no idea what we were doing."

Joe nods, his smile softening. "I remember how scared you were about telling your parents. But you know what I remember more?"

"What?" she asks, handing him a clean glass.

"How you still managed to push through all that fear and finish your degree on time. You didn’t let anything stop you, not even two babies kicking your ribs during finals."

Y/N shakes her head, laughing. "Don’t act like you weren’t freaking out too. You spent half the night staring at that pregnancy test like it might change if you looked hard enough."

Joe laughs, drying the glass. "Okay, fair. I was terrified. But I knew we’d figure it out. And look at us now."

Y/N glances around the kitchen, her eyes lingering on the family photos on the fridge—the twins’ school pictures, a shot of the four of them at the beach, and a drawing labeled Mama, Daddy, Hudson, and Elijah.

"Yeah," she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. "We’ve built a pretty amazing life, haven’t we?"

Joe sets the towel down and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "We have. And those two little terrors in the living room? They’re the best thing that ever happened to us."

Y/N leans into him, resting her head against his chest. "I still can’t believe we were worried about not being ready. I mean, we weren’t—but we figured it out."

Joe kisses the top of her head, his voice low and full of love. "That’s because we’re a team, Y/N. Always have been."

Before she can respond, a loud crash comes from the living room, followed by giggles and a triumphant "Wasn't me!"

Y/N groans, pulling back. "Moment's over."

Joe laughs, grabbing a dish towel. "I’ll check on the damage. You finish up here."

As he heads toward the living room, Y/N watches him go, her heart swelling with gratitude. She turns back to the sink, rinsing the last plate as the sound of Joe’s playful scolding echoes from the other room.

She smiles to herself, thinking back to that night all those years ago. It had been terrifying and uncertain, but it led to this—a life full of love, laughter, and a chaos she wouldn’t trade for the world.

[letsgetrowdy43]

A room of our own—

Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: Hi! I’m not sure if we can combine the prompts but if so could I please request 🐞with the prompts, “Okay, we need to decide whose bedroom it is that's going to be ours from now on. I feel like I'm back in high school, sneaking from one to the other every second night!" (Roommates to lovers), and hearing them snore a little for the first time, maybe the snoring is small, quiet and you can't help but giggle since it's kind of cute, or maybe it's quite loud and you realize you plan to spend the rest of your life with this. With Jacky, love your writing!!

Warnings/notes: Thank you so much love <3 This is a little suggestive, but sos so sweet so please enjoy!!

End of summer celebration!!

Jack stirred awake, the early morning sunlight filtered through his linen curtains. A yawn erupted from his mouth as he turned on his side to be face to face with his girlfriend, eyes still fighting off sleep as he noticed that she was already awake. His girlfriend lay on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching him with a soft smile as he reached out her hand to fix his messy curls, grinning at his bedhead as he caught her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist.

She had grown used to waking up and seeing him first thing in the morning, but today felt a little different— waking up under the same covers as him, limbs tangled with his felt like the start of something more permanent.

“Morning,” she whispered, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. He smiled sleepily, reaching out to pull her closer, his face buried in her neck as he soaked up the intimacy of waking up with her by his side. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as she smiled into the crown of his head.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her tone light but with a hint of seriousness as she thought back to the night before—the whispered conversations, the laughter, the warmth of their bodies pressed together under the covers. “Okay,” she began, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back, grinning at the feeling of his gentle grasp on her hips as he pulled her hips to his, “we need to decide whose bedroom it is that’s going to be ours from now on. I feel like I’m back in high school, sneaking from one to the other every second night!”

Jack lifted his head slightly, blinking away the last remnants of sleep as he processed her words. A slow smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “Yeah, it’s about time we figure that out, huh? Feels like we’ve been playing house without actually picking the house.” She giggled, the sound vibrating through him as he held her close. “Exactly! I mean, it’s fun sneaking around, but I think it’s time we make it official. No more sneaking.”

He grinned, his fingers brushing along her side. “Agreed. Let’s pick our spot. Maybe we should just flip a coin.” She laughed, shaking her head at the simplicity of his suggestion. “Or we could, you know, think about it logically? Your room is closer to the bathroom, but mine has better light and decor…”

Jack smirked, leaning in to kiss her lips, a slow, mind-melting kiss that had her brain foggy the second he pulled away to smirk as he continued their conversation “Or we could just alternate, keep things interesting.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re impossible, you know that?” Jack shook his head as he flipped himself on top of her and began pressing kisses to her exposed skin, "I. Am. Not," he said in between the sloppy kisses.

She laughed at his lack of seriousness before her hands cupped his cheeks and pulled his face up to look at her, "if you want to think logistically, my room is cuter and it is the furthest away from Luke," her eyes telling of what she was implying as the kisses stopped and he grinned at her genius. "You're so smart," he kissed her collarbone, "I don't know how I got so lucky," he pressed a second kiss to her sternum as she laughed at his lust-blown pupils.

She laughed, her hands still cradling his face as she looked down at him. “Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her tone playful as she ran her fingers through his messy hair. “But seriously, if we’re going to be sharing a room, there’s something else we need to address.”

Jack paused, lifting his head to look at her with a curious expression, a grinning pulling at his lips, expecting a cheeky joke, “Oh? What’s that?” She hesitated for a moment, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheekbone, “You snore. Loudly.”

His eyes widened in mock horror, and he immediately rolled off her, sitting up on the bed, “I do not!” She couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction, sitting up beside him and poking his side as she grinned at his dramatics, “Oh, but you do! It’s like a little rumble, but you know what? It’s actually kind of cute.”

Jack groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment before peeking at her through his fingers, as she dipped down once again and kissed the scar on his shoulder, “You think my snoring is cute?”

She nodded, her smile softening as she reached out to take his hand, their fingers intertwined as she scooted closer to his side. “Yeah, I do. It’s just… you. And if I’m being honest, I don’t really mind it. It’s part of what makes this whole thing—” she gestured between them, “—feel real. Like we’re really doing this, you know?” Jack’s expression softened, and he squeezed her hand, pulling her even closer until their foreheads touched. “Well, if you can put up with my snoring, then I guess I can handle your room being ‘cuter’ than mine,” he said with a grin.

She laughed, leaning in to press a sloppy, teeth clashing, smile wide kiss to his lips, the playfulness of the moment blending with the deeper emotion they both felt. “Deal,” she whispered against his mouth.

As they lay back down, tangled in each other once more, the thought of Jack’s snoring no longer seemed like an issue. It was just one of the many little things that made their relationship theirs—imperfect, but perfect in its own way.

-

-

-

[cozymochi]

If you don't mind oc questions, how does Nyoka, Emilio and Cecil feel about the prefect?

Do they see MC as a nuisance? Or someone interesting for managing to deal with 4 overblots? Excluding Jamil, Vil, and Malleus since it wasn't public to the entire school and since book 7 isn't finished yet

I ACCEPT OC QUESTIONS!!! they keep me from dwelling on doom :’) 💖 I know I answered something similar to this before but I’m going to use this to do better since this is non-specific (my old answer sucked anyway since I was unprepared). For simplicities, sake I’m going to disregard all OBs since the general Prefects involvement with them is barely addressed in a diegetic way to begin with outside of Book 3. So that’s a non-factor going forward.

——

Across all three boys I think they probably find the Prefect/MC to be a nuisance. But mostly framed under that “NRC great-mages-in-training with huge egos” finding the fact that a human with NO magic gets to be a student there (with Grim) for #reasons to be kind of insulting. It’s just a territorial and pride thing common for majority of the students there. These three aren’t exempt from that. But, they do act out in different ways.

Since Emilio is so shameless, Emilio will take any potshot to undermine the Prefect’s status, accomplishments (if any) and their popularity, even is this popularity is more so “infamy” than anything else (which it is). They are in the same grade level, so encounters are more frequent. I think he probably sees a bit of himself in the Prefect, and ends up projecting onto them more than he should. He’ll probably warm up eventually though depending on how development goes, but it will not be an easy task, assuming this Prefect is a general good faith person. And yes, he would apologize and take every moment to atone for his behavior if they ever became friends.

Cecil, despite his own issues, would rather ignore the Prefect and generally wants nothing to do with them. I don’t think he’d be mean like Emilio, just a little snarky if they crossed paths. But he’s just naturally pretty snarky despite his bumbling nature. He wouldn’t do anything though. He doesn’t know it yet but it’s not really in him to be all that mean. He does know that Housewarden Malleus regards the Prefect highly, but can’t understand why. If the Prefect were to an extend a friendly hand first towards Cecil and remain persistent (persistence is key), then Cecil would eventually come around tenfold. I think a Prefect friendship would do Cecil some good. Maybe even improve his magical performance even— who knows 👍

Nyoka sees the Prefect as prey. A mouse, even. That is food. However, in general Nyoka doesn’t regard the Prefect at all and would rather ignore them. This is pretty easy to do since they wouldn’t be too likely to cross paths. If they did though, in a non-confrontational way provided they keep a respectful distance, he would be deferential and civil. On paper this sounds good, but this is not exactly a warm scenario. Rule of thumb is to just not engage. If they did somehow frequently cross paths and a Prefect were to remain respectful of his space (and perhaps engage with his interests) then maybe that civility would become genuine. He might find the idea of a predator becoming slightly chummy with prey a little amusing, in its own way.

lol like how I spun this into “BUT WHAT IF FRIENDS???” Scenario

THANKS BYE

(OH right. @servamp01 )

[alivegirldetectiveagency]

The show gives us very little information about edwin’s life. i’m pretty sure all we know is (1) he read detective stories (2) is father would call crystal a bobtail (3) he was presumably bullied (i say presumably because the ritual could have been a first incident but i find that unlikely just cause. the severity of it)

i hope we learn a little more if we get a season 2 because i think edwins childhood would give interesting insight into him (this goes for all the characters actually) but i think we can make a lot of assumptions about what his life was like based off the time period

(disclaimer: i am not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, so i apologize for any inaccuracies)(and for any typos)

this post got kinda long so the rest is under the cut

edwin lived from 1900-1916 which mostly encompasses the edwardian era (1901-1910). for the purposes of this post i will be talking as if it was all edwardian for simplicity and also because the last few years of the victorian era and the first few years after edward vii would have been very similar. i am also operating under the assumption the paynes were upper class because (1) vibes (2) edwin is very formal which would have been emphasized the most in the upper classes (3) he had the time and money to go to boarding school which still wasn’t very accessible (although education was growing in importance)

the importance of childhood was growing in the era and there was a lot more leisure time and entertainment. still, etiquette and manners were very important so there would have had the “seen and not heard” attitude towards children. in upper class families, child rearing would have been done by a nanny and not the mother. the father as head of the house would have been strict and interacted little with the children. so edwin probably saw very little of his parents while growing up even before boarding school. since edwin was a son his father might have taken him out for things like shooting/hunting but that would have been just him and his father (and brothers if he had any). also edwin does Not seem like he would have enjoyed that so i dunno if much bonding would have occurred during those outings. family time in general would be rather brief. He would have had more time spent with siblings his age since younger children would have spent most of their time in the nursery/with the nanny.

i’m going to brush past the school life part because i do not know much about it other than that he would have started at st Hilarions around 13. and that i’m pretty sure corporal punishment was used in boarding schools like it at the time? (not entirely sure on that front it depends on if the school is state sponsored) we can infer from the show that edwin did not have a Great time at school but i don’t know what the specifics would have been like

etiquette was very very important. i don’t think the edwardian era was quite as strict as the victorian era but there was still a LOT of social expectations. including the perfect posture george rexstrew does as edwin. etiquette would also include addressing everyone properly and limited affection. you also wouldn’t really touch anyone! not to get their attention or shake hands in greeting or clapping someone on the back. Self control was everything even in times of excitement or distress. Social classes were very strict although the industrial revolution created the neavue riche so social mobility was not impossible. new rich families often tried to adapt the traditions of the (aristocratic) upper class but integration was slooow. (Middle class families would adopt trends from the upper classes too). while formality was important, language in general was simplifying partially due to mass newspapers. if you’ve ever read Oliver Twist or another Dickens story, the language is very verbose and hard to follow which is par the course for victorian literature but less so for edwardian literature.

speaking of literature and entertainment we know edwin liked detective stories. he reads a max carrados story (which started in 1914) to charles and in edwin’s death flashback you see him with a detective penny/dime novel (in the scene you can read “The Aldine Tip Top Tales, High Hat Harry” and google tells me the rest of the title is “The Base Ball Detective”). Edwin probably also read Sherlock Holmes which was still popular. Growing up he might have Peter Pan/Peter and Wendy (the title changed after its initial publishing in 1904) and The Tale of Peter Rabbit (1902). And more short stories and dime novels (like the Aldine company ones) since they were getting very popular at the time. Entertainments like the Winter Gardens and Pleasure Beach in Blackpool were also growing popularity. but generally outdoor upper class entertainment would have been tennis, hunting, or racing. (fun fact the 1908 summer olympics was in london so edwin might have watched it as a child!) there also would have been a lot of dinner parties but those would have been for the parents to maintain or increase social status and not necessarily include the children.

overall edwin’s childhood probably included a lot of extravagant entertainment. He would not have spent much time with his parent so unless edwin had siblings his early childhood would have probably been lonely. canon does not suggest he really made friends while in school either.

Canon and fanon has touched on how edwin’s social skills took a hit from being in hell for 70 years (which is definitely true). But on top of just escaping hell, edwin is using knowledge/skills from a vastly different social era when he first meets charles. it must have been really jarring the first few years of being friends because charles’s ideas/experiences with friendship were WILDLY different than edwin’s

[soaringwide]

Pick a Card: What makes you feel alive and inspired in life?

PILE 1 🩷 > PILE 2 🩵 > PILE 3 ❤️

We are all driven by different things, and it's easy to lose track of that when you are distracted by the noise of the world.

Today, I want to look at what lights up your spark, what makes you feel alive and inspired in life.

Whether you want to simply get to know yourself better, or get a little reassurance in a difficult time, this reading is meant to be empowering and uplifting, and help you remember what makes life feel soulful for you.

Remember that this is a general reading meant for many people. Take what resonates and leave out the rest. Never forget that you are the leader of your own life and you make the call on what you want to do, believe and think, or not.

If you like my style, feel free to check out my paid readings on ko-fi or the link bellow.

book a reading ★ all PACs ★ pinned post ★ instagram

PILE 1 🩷

Cards: The River, Ace of Cups, Judgement, the Devil, the Hermit, 3 of Pentacles

Life is a flowing journey for all, but you take it to heart.

You feel the most alive and inspired when you embrace what the great current of life brings to you in order to wash away the decaying parts of yourself and shed your old skin.

To you, life is all about transforming yourself. The Existential Grindstone putting pressure on what needs to change and forcing you to be born anew. You do not like being stagnant, for murky waters poison your sense of purpose. You like movement within yourself, and knowing that you are always growing, always learning and expanding.

You are not scared to go into the depths of yourself to face your own limitations and shortcomings. There is a humming in your heart, a whisper calling for change. You are an eternal student of life, dedicated to becoming a better person and experiencing life in its purest form: as a journey toward yourself. There is a well of patience and a vivid energy in you, merging wisdom gained from experience and the pure heart of youth.

There is a subnote about healing here, and I think, one some level, you feel the most soulful when you manage to shift things within you and witness the metamorphosis happening within yourself, so that you can sooth your pains and let go of the past. I see you being hyper aware of the darker or heavier aspects of yourself, and you are not scared of them because you know that within them lie the opportunity to bring more light, to expand and rise above. To break the chains stopping you from feeling truly alive.

I also believe that you wish for a fairer world, and that you know that it all start with yourself. And while appearing very in tune with your deeper self, which implies holding the most tender part of yourself secret, I know that you do not lose sight of the world around you, and that by building yourself, you can help build a better world too.

You will feel unaligned with life when you swim against the current. The world is a river carrying you and connecting us all, and in this life, you will feel the most alive and inspired when you accept to flow with it, to let events and people shape you, helping you build yourself, helping you write your own unique story.

PILE 2 🩵

Cards: The Castle, Death, 4 of Wands, the Lovers, Page of Pentacles, 10 of Cups

For this pile, I'm getting that you are well aware of the illusions of materialism and consumerism, and that you don't want to get lured in by dulling comfort and shiny luxuries. Most people accumulate things to build walls around them and to fill the void inside their soul, and it is possible that you were like that at some point, but you realized it led nowhere and embraced a deep change of your way of living and experiencing life.

I think your soul craves simplicity and honest connections with people, and that you feel the most alive when you manage to break away from the decadence of our post modern way of living next to each other (rather than truly together) and obsession with accumulating senseless things. "Why do we constantly need more, and when is more ever enough?" Could be a pretty significant idea for you and something your draw inspiration from.

You see this issue clearly and feel inspired by the dream of a more authentic and open world, and world that you could share with people you love and cherish.

It's like you want life to be a great party where everyone is equal and we all have enough to live and love freely, and when you manage to dive into that, do your part on your level, you feel invigorated, inspired and alive. It's also possible that you seek situations that encourage this feeling and feel inspired by that. Little moments of truth stolen from the surrounding madness that you see in the world.

I think connecting with people, from friends and family to heartfelt exchanges with strangers, is so important to you and make you feel soulful, and I see you either dreaming to have your own love nest (family of any kind, or community), or already having it and feeling the happiest when you can share these simple and authentic moments with your loved ones.

Life is a gift to be experienced with others, what is the point of living if only for yourself?

PILE 3 ❤️

Cards: The King, the Magician, 10 of Cups, 4 of Cups, 7 of Wands, Ace of Wands, Strength

You are someone who feels the most alive when you can lead the way and leverage your influence, skills and knowledge for the greater good and happiness of those around you.

You have a strong and proud soul, a regal heart and you know you can do lot of good with your positive influence, be it by protecting, leading or inspiring others to do more and better.

You are highly motivated and dedicated to make your wishes happen in the world. You feel highly stimulated when you are pushed to overcome struggles and obstacles, when you can rise above and prove yourself. You are highly resilient and will not let others make you feel small and weak. On the contrary, I think that inspires you to expand and become a greater version of yourself.

For you, time spent waiting passively for life to bring you what you want is wasted time. You find indecision and uncertainty distasteful and always strive to become more. The world will not open its doors for you if you do nothing, and you find that extremely stimulating and it gives you a sense of purpose that make you feel alive.

You might be someone who collects hobbies and passion because you enjoy learning and expanding your range of skills. You feel the most alive when you feel busy and can work hard on something you set your mind to. You want to be a master at many things, and you enjoy the process of reaching that point more than the actual end of the journey.

You want to be able to show the world all that you have accomplished, and it's pushing you forward and keeping your inspired.

[aithusarosekiller]

I see you all saying that Sirius is the pretty much the only one with 'Reg/Reggie' nickname privileges and I raise you: The obligatory sibling-assigned stupid nickname that nobody else uses bc he already goes by a better nickname everywhere

Most people can get away with shortening his name to 'Reg' bc of laziness/simplicity (he gives up trying to correct them after a while) and a few friends and family can manage a 'Reggie' in the right situation (it's thin ice though) and at some point Sirius decided he wanted a stupid nickname to use when he chose to be annoying bc why did everyone just settle for the easiest one?

Enter: Lulu and Regsy. Possibly the two dumbest nicknames there are.

Literally nobody else uses them bc 1) they sound ridiculous, 2) he'd hex them, and 3) who would even think of such silly nicknames?

Sirius uses them though. Not frequently, he usually says Reg like everyone else or full names him when he's angry.

But when he wants to mess around? Suddenly it's' Hey Regsy, can I ask a favour,' 'OI, LULU LMAO' Obviously Regulus finds it INSUFFERABLE. Whenever he hears Lulu (he HATESSS this one) he knows he's gonna get something thrown at his face or he's about to be bullied into an early grave. When Sirius pulls out the faux-sweet little 'Regsy' he's being asked to cover for him or lend him something. He is forever glad the names don't catch on with most people.

[shirecorn]

Shirecorn's Ponyverse Masterpost

So for the last 2 months I've fixated on doing redesigns based somewhat loosely on My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I've had so much fun filling in the gaps and extrapolating until my version is less of a redesign and more of an AU.

"Ponies" are three species of sentient hoofed creatures that populate Equestria. They worship giant goddesses that fill the sky and ferry the moon and sun across the world.

Tag navigation

#Shire draws mlp - drawings only. Leaves out the lore

#Skyscraper gods lore - drawings, posts, and asks that expand on the world. Talks about biology, genetics, ritual, society, politics, religion, but mostly creature design and magic.

#Skyscraper Gods - Art, asks, posts, and fanart! Everything to do with both my little pony canon and my version of things. Includes drawings without lore, and lore without drawings. This is the tag to browse to make sure you see it all

Characters

In progress: Discord

○ The Mane Six ○ All Alicorns,

○ Rarity ○ Fluttershy ○ Flutterbat ○ Applejack ○ Pinkie Pie ○ Pinkie Pie Pegasus ○ Rainbow Dash ○ Twilight Sparkle ○ Raritwi ○ Spike

○ Princess Celestia + Princess Luna ○ Princess Cadance + Shining Armor + Flurry Heart ○ Sunset Shimmer ○ Sunburst ○ Apple Bloom + Scootaloo + Sweetie Belle (Cutie Mark Crusaders) ○ Big Macintosh/Ochard Blossom (she is a woman) ○ Granny Smith ○ Mr & Mrs Cake + Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake ○ Maud Pie + Mudbriar ○ Trixie Lulamoon + Starlight Glimmer ○ Cozy Glow ○ Zephyr Breeze ○ Escape Room Guy + Dusty Pages ○ Berry Punch/Berryshine ○ Vapor Trail ○ Bulk Biceps ○ Tempest Shadow ○ Flim and Flam ○ Queen Chrysalis + Thorax + Ocellus (Changelings) ○ Autumn Blaze (kirin) ○ Rain Shine (kirin leader) ○ Sky Beak (hippogriff) ○ Starcatcher and Skywishes (G3)

Lore

○ The 3 pony species ○ Breeding/genetics ○ The 4 Alicorns stories ○ Gods of non-pony species? Seapony god? ○ Unicorn Horns: Starlight physics, Different shapes, Alicorn horns, Horn colors, ○ Where did Spike come from? (1) (2) ○ Your daughter has won the favor of God (fic) ○ Nightmare moon playlist ○ Cutie marks are cultural not physical: (1) (2) ○ Starlight Glimmer's hometown and her cult ○ Alicorns don't fit inside buildings ○ Discord is a headache to behold ○ Government in the world of gods ○ Gender and matriarchy ○ Scootaloo's flightless disability ○ Equestria Girls Vs Skyscraper Gods, existential horror ○ Pinkie Pie breaks the forth wall because she hopped worlds once ○ Vampire fruit bat ecology and virus ○ How ponies caught it

Meta

○ Using Skyscraper Gods as inspiration (2) ○ Why I like expanding on MLP: its simplicity ○ MLP Creature designs are already good ○ If you don't like my designs ○ I'm just having fun: (1) (2) ○ Mane 6 doodle to finished design ○ After ponies ○ Designing based on birds and animals ○ Starcatcher dove

Shitposts and Doodles

○ My fursona in mlp style ○ Daytime! Nighttime! ○ Baby god ○ Local horse fistfights the sun ○ Shining armor alicorn ○ Sunset shimmer becomes god (2) ○ Poodle rarity ○ Zephyr Breeze thinks RD is a man ○ Season 9 ○ Why is EQ an hour long ○ Being held at gunpoint to watch Equestria Girls ○ World's gayest dash ○ 18 pounds of crake

Fanart by others

○ Fanart tag

Commissions

○ People request a lot and that normal ○ Prices are low because I'm already fixated

Ko-fi requests || Classic commissions

Shirecorn Discord

Join any tier of my patreon to access my art discord

○ See WIPs, discussion, the occasional meltdown, and more ○ The content is all done through discord, so if the patreon looks dead it's all just on the server instead.

I hope you enjoy seeing my MLP creations as much as I enjoy making them!

[ssa-dado]

3 - A Philosopher and a Lawyer walk into a Cafè

Aaron Hotchner's x bau!fem!reader

Genre: fluff, sapiosexual fluff

Summary: You and Hotch's playful rivalry deepens as you bring him a coffee, sparking witty banter and an unspoken connection. You work together on a complex case involving philosophical murders, impressing each other with your insights. Amid teasing about a fictional romance between Rossi and Gideon, you and Hotch’s bond strengthens, both appreciating the natural rhythm of working together while unknowingly being quietly supported by your mentors. Warnings: Usual graphic CM kind of case, Reader being a Prehistoric Reid, Gissi being so strong they even named a town for them.

Word Count: 4.8k words

Dado's Corner: Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis. Mark my words, they could be helpful in the long run. We might get close to the second stage sooner than you think.

previous part: Early birds ; masterlist

It was another early morning at the BAU, and you found yourself in the local coffee shop just around the corner from the office. The morning chill clung to your coat as you stepped inside, the familiar hum of the espresso machine and the comforting aroma of fresh coffee filling the air.

You you were eager to finally being able to order your usual - a double espresso - as you found yourself already savouring the taste and smell of it, especially after all those days of being forced to drink the burnt coffee they provided at work. On a whim, decided to grab something for Hotch as well.

He had been beating you to the office every day, and despite your friendly rivalry, you knew the coffee at work was terrible. You imagined Hotch downing that bitter, overbrewed mess every morning, and the thought made you grimace.

"One black coffee, no sugar," you told the barista, after all, Hotch seemed like the kind of man who appreciated perfectly crafted simplicity.

Arriving at the office, you made your way to the bullpen, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction at the thought of catching Hotch off guard. As expected, there he was, already at his desk, his navy suit perfectly pressed, tie in place, and eyes glued to his case file. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, both annoyed and impressed by his consistency.

Hotch glanced up as you approached, a faint look of surprise crossing his features when he noticed the second coffee cup in your hand.

“Morning,” you said casually, setting the coffee on his desk. “Thought you might appreciate something better than the sludge they serve here.”

Hotch looked down at the cup, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes before he masked it with his usual composed expression. “Thank you. I’ve been meaning to bring my own, but, well, you know how it is.” He picked up the cup, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze meeting yours with a wry smile. “So, what’s the excuse this time? You figured you’d never make it here before me, so you’re hedging your bets by blaming your tardiness on stopping for coffee?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Actually, I thought you might need a little recognition for all your hard work. I didn’t think you’d still be going along with this whole rivalry.” You gave him a teasing look, knowing full well that he thrived on the unspoken challenge between you.

Hotch’s smirk softened, his eyes briefly betraying how much he appreciated the gesture. “Well, it’s not every day someone bothers to get me a decent cup of coffee, but you don’t have to go out of your way. Even if I’m not complaining.” He took another sip, savoring the taste that was far superior to the bitter brew he usually endured.

You shrugged, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Consider it my one good deed for the day. But don’t think this means I’m letting you win without a fight.”

Hotch nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “I appreciate the coffee, but now I owe you. I’ll have to get you a properly made coffee sometime, just to keep us even.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning closer as if conspiring. “Hotch, you owe me more than just one coffee for the stress you’ve caused me with this little game.”

He met your gaze with a mock-serious expression. “Oh, I’m not causing you stress. You’re the one driving yourself crazy trying to keep up.”

You scoffed playfully, unable to deny that he had a point. But Hotch’s eyes softened slightly, and he added, “But you’re right. I do owe you. In fact, I’ll make you a deal: I’ll buy you one coffee for every day I beat you here, until the day you finally arrive earlier than me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his offer, shaking your head at the sheer audacity. “You’re such a lawyer, you know that? You’re making a deal that actually only benefits you. What’s stopping me from showing up later on purpose just to drain your wallet?”

Hotch’s smirk widened, and he gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe that’s the idea. Give you a bigger distraction, make you think about something other than beating me. It works out well for me in the long run.”

You couldn’t help but admire the cleverness of his plan, realizing that if you fell for it, you’d be distracted by the rewards rather than the competition itself. “Wow. I’ve got to hand it to you, Hotch. In the long run, I’d end up showing up later and later, making it even easier for you. Impressive.”

Hotch raised his cup in mock toast, clearly pleased that you saw right through his scheme. “I’m surprised you caught on. I was hoping to pull one over on you for a while longer.”

You leaned back, crossing your arms with a triumphant smile. “You have no idea how good I am at outsmarting lawyers who think they can outsmart me first.”

Hotch chuckled, shaking his head in genuine amusement. “Touché.”

“Deal’s still on, though,” you said, holding out your hand as if to seal it formally. “But don’t think for a second I’m going to change my routine just because you’re bribing me with coffee.”

Hotch took your hand, his grip firm and warm. “Of course not.”

But today, something else was on Hotch’s mind. As you settled in, you noticed Hotch was already deeply absorbed in a case file, the intensity of his focus suggesting he was waiting for something, or someone.

Hotch flipped open the file in front of him, his eyes scanning the pages with a keen intensity. As he read through the details, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. This case was unlike most he’d worked on recently: it was layered with philosophical references, obscure quotes, and an unsub whose modus operandi seemed to be influenced by complex philosophical ideologies. He knew exactly who would be perfect to consult on this, but rather than asking for help directly, he had something else in mind.

With a subtle shift, Hotch angled the file just enough to leave the corner of a page visible from your desk. It was a deliberate move, calculated to catch your attention. If he knew you - and by now, he did - you wouldn’t be able to resist taking a peek.

He didn’t have to wait long. You settled into your chair and immediately noticed the stray page peeking out from Hotch’s desk. The faint, familiar names and terms you could make out - “Nietzsche,” “existential morality,” “nihilism” - caught your eye. You tried to concentrate on your own files, but curiosity got the better of you. Your gaze kept drifting back to that page.

Simulating a casual stretch, you leaned forward, pretending to adjust something on your desk while sneaking a better look at Hotch’s case. The notes detailed a series of murders where the unsub left behind cryptic quotes from philosophers, each one linked to the specific way the victims were killed. It was more than just a pattern; it was a philosophical puzzle, woven into every aspect of the crime scenes.

You couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped your lips as the pieces clicked in your mind. “Oh my God,” you muttered, momentarily forgetting where you were.

Hotch glanced up, hiding his satisfaction at your reaction. He had set the bait perfectly, and you had walked right into it. The moment was even more rewarding for him, especially considering your previous bragging about being great at "outsmarting lawyers who think they can outsmart me first", only to now prove that you were, in fact, a little more ordinary than you'd let on. “Something on your mind, Y/N?”

You blinked, realizing you’d been caught. “I- uh, sorry. I couldn’t help but notice... are those quotes from Nietzsche? And Kierkegaard?” You pointed vaguely in the direction of his file, trying not to sound too eager.

Hotch leaned back in his chair, pretending to consider your question. “It seems that way. The unsub is leaving these quotes at the scenes, but the exact reasoning behind his selections is still unclear.”

You moved closer, unable to resist the lure of the philosophical elements woven into the case. “He’s not just picking these at random,” you said, your mind already racing with theories. “Look at this, Nietzsche’s ‘Beyond Good and Evil’ is quoted here, right next to how the victim was killed. He’s making a statement about morality, or the lack of it, in a deeply personal way.”

Hotch nodded, observing the way you immersed yourself in the details. “Go on,” he prompted, genuinely intrigued by your insights.

You flipped through the pages, your fingers tracing the notes. “Nietzsche challenges conventional morality, especially the binary of good and evil. The unsub seems to be echoing that: he’s positioning himself as someone who operates outside the realm of typical moral standards. Each murder isn’t just a killing; it’s a message that he’s transcended normal ethical constraints.”

Hotch watched you intently, his brow furrowing as he processed your explanation. “So he’s justifying his actions through philosophy? Twisting these ideas to fit his narrative?”

You nodded, flipping to another page with a different quote: “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.” You pointed at the crime scene photo beside it. “This victim was restrained, but not in the usual way. It’s almost as if he’s trying to make a point about the nature of becoming what we despise. He’s projecting his internal struggle onto his victims.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened as he absorbed your analysis. “He sees himself as above society’s rules, above good and evil.”

“Exactly,” you replied. “This isn’t just about murder. It’s about the philosophical struggle of defining oneself beyond societal constraints. The unsub doesn’t see himself as evil; he sees himself as someone exploring the limits of human morality.”

Hotch leaned back, clearly impressed. “And what about this one?” He pointed to another crime scene photo. A quote from Kierkegaard was scrawled near the body: “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”

You stared at the quote, considering the implications. “Kierkegaard speaks about existential dread and the overwhelming responsibility of true freedom. By leaving this quote, the unsub is hinting at his own struggle with the concept of freedom, how it can be paralyzing, even deadly. His victims aren’t just casualties; they’re expressions of his own inner turmoil about freedom and choice.”

Hotch glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “So he’s not just a killer, he’s using these murders to explore and express his own philosophical beliefs.”

“Right,” you said, feeling the thrill of the chase. “He’s trying to elevate his crimes to a form of existential art. Each murder is his way of grappling with these big ideas, like a twisted performance meant to provoke thought.”

Hotch studied you, clearly impressed. He’d expected insights, but your depth of understanding went beyond his expectations. “This angle is exactly what we need to get inside his head,” he said quietly.

You smiled, feeling both flattered and invigorated. “I can help. I mean, if you want me to. I’ve studied these philosophies for years: existentialism, nihilism, all of it. I think I can figure out what he’s trying to communicate and why he’s doing it this way.”

Hotch allowed himself another rare smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “So this was your idea all along? You knew I’d snoop.”

Hotch shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “I had a hunch. And I thought you might enjoy this one.”

The two of you spent the rest of the morning poring over the crime scene photos and quotes, dissecting the unsub’s motivations in a way that felt less like work and more like an intense intellectual duel. At one point, Hotch leaned in, pointing at a particular quote scrawled in blood at one of the scenes: “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”

“He’s obsessed with the idea of chaos and creation,” Hotch said thoughtfully. “He’s not just killing, he’s trying to create something.”

You nodded, your mind racing. “Nietzsche believed that from chaos comes creation: an artist’s need to disrupt the ordinary to bring something extraordinary into existence. The unsub sees himself as a kind of artist, but his canvas is human life. He’s trying to provoke a reaction, make a statement that only he believes in.”

Hotch’s gaze was sharp, but you could see the respect in his eyes. “He’s creating his own twisted masterpiece.”

“Exactly,” you said. “He’s redefining morality in his own terms, using his victims to express his philosophical journey.”

The hours flew by as you and Hotch continued to unravel the unsub’s mindset, bouncing theories off each other with a rhythm that felt natural. You had found a way to speak the same language, not just of profiling but of the deeper, darker corners of human thought.

As the day wore on, the bullpen filled with the sounds of the rest of the team returning from their work. Rossi passed by your desks, noticing the two of you deeply engaged in discussion.

“Looks like you’ve finally found your match, Hotch,” Rossi said with a smirk. “She’s giving you a run for your money.”

Hotch didn’t look up from the file, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “She’s good,” he said simply, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable.

Rossi raised an eyebrow at you, clearly impressed. “Well, don’t let him work you too hard. And Hotch, try not to steal all her ideas.”

You both laughed, knowing that this case had brought you closer as partners, not just colleagues. The connection between you and Hotch had deepened; it wasn’t just about early mornings or the rivalry anymore. It was about understanding each other on a level that few could reach.

“Thanks, Hotch. For letting me dive into this.” You smiled at him as you packed up for the day.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than usual. “I didn’t just let you help. I needed you on this one.”

As you left the office together, the day’s work behind you, you felt the connection you’d built still very much alive. You were learning, growing, and with Hotch by your side, you felt like you could take on anything. And as you drove home that night, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Hotch felt the same way.

The next morning, you walked into the office with a heavy sigh. The thrill of unofficially working with Hotch on a complex case filled with philosophical nuances had left you buzzing with excitement the night before, but today was a completely different story.

You knew what awaited you: a mountain of paperwork that had absolutely nothing to do with profiling or unraveling the twisted minds of criminals. Instead, it was the mundane side of the job: filing reports, cross-referencing witness statements, and all the bureaucratic tedium that no one warned you about when you signed up to chase unsubs.

As you approached your desk, your mood dipped even further. Sitting squarely in the center was a towering stack of files, the sight of which nearly made you sick. You let out a groan, dropping your bag on the floor and staring at the pile as if you could will it away with sheer force of will.

“Really?” you muttered to yourself, mentally preparing for a long and grueling morning. But as you reached for the first file, something odd caught your eye. The top sheet had been filled out, every line neatly completed in precise handwriting. You frowned, flipping through the next few files only to find the same, each one meticulously filled out, every detail recorded with the same practiced precision. It didn’t take long for you to recognize the writing: slanted slightly to the left, with the occasional sharp flourish, the unmistakable penmanship of a left-handed person.

It was Hotch’s.

Your heart skipped a beat as you rifled through the entire stack, realizing that all the paperwork had been completed. At the bottom of the pile, nestled beneath the last file, was a small note. You picked it up, already smiling as you recognized Hotch’s handwriting.

“Your philosophy degree helped me. Let my prosecutor years be helpful to you.”

You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over you. He hadn’t just helped you out, he’d done it in a way that perfectly mirrored your new dynamic, a balance of give and take that was starting to feel natural.

You glanced up across your desk, Hotch was of course, engrossed in yet another case file, but you could tell by the way his shoulders were set that he knew exactly what he’d done and was just waiting for you to notice. You grabbed the note, determined to thank him but also to give him a hard time for beating you to the punch once again.

“Hey,” you said. Hotch looked up, and for a moment, the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. You held up the note, shaking it lightly. “So, when did you decide to moonlight as my personal assistant?”

Hotch leaned back in his chair, his expression carefully neutral, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You looked like you had enough on your plate after yesterday,” he said simply. “Figured I could put my old skills to use.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Hotch, this would’ve taken hours. You really didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. “But after all the philosophical guidance you gave me yesterday, I thought I’d return the favor. Call it a mutual exchange of expertise.”

You smiled, feeling warmth spread through you. “Well, thank you. Seriously. This is way above and beyond.”

Hotch nodded, but there was a playful edge to his voice when he spoke next. “Hopefully now you don’t hate lawyers as much.”

“Touché,” you said, grinning. “I guess you’ve proven that some lawyers can be... tolerable.”

Hotch gave a mock look of offense. “Tolerable? I’ll take it.” He paused, then added more seriously, “It’s not about winning, you know. At least, not in this line of work. It’s about finding the truth, even if it means doing the boring parts.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that” you admitted, still holding the note between your fingers. “Thanks for reminding me.”

You looked over the stack of completed reports, still impressed by how thorough Hotch had been. “Some of this paperwork was from cases I wrapped up a week ago. How did you know all the details? Did you just magically know what to write?”

Hotch leaned back in his chair, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “What, you think you’re the only one entitled to snoop around your coworkers’ files?!”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “So you’ve been snooping on me? I thought that was my job.”

Hotch’s smirk widened, and he shrugged casually. “I learned from the best. You think I haven’t noticed you trying to catch a glimpse of my cases all this time?”

You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up. “I guess that makes us even.”

“Not quite,” he quipped, his tone teasing but his expression still composed. “I’m just better at not getting caught.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Guess I’ll have to up my game then.”

Hotch chuckled, a rare and genuine sound that caught you by surprise. “Good luck with that. But seriously, I figured I’d save you some time. I know how much you the paperwork side of this job isn’t the most entertaining one.”

You nodded, appreciating the gesture more than you could express. “Well, I have to admit, you did a pretty good job... for a snooper.”

“Better than tolerable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused by your earlier choice of words.

“Don’t push it,” you shot back with a grin. “But I’ll give you this: you’re pretty good at reading between the lines, even when it’s not a case file.”

Hotch nodded, his expression softening. “It’s all part of the job. And hey, if you ever need help with the paperwork again, just let me know. I don’t mind putting those old lawyer skills to use, once in a while.”

“Deal,” you said, pushing off his desk and heading back to your own. “But don’t think I’m going to let you get away with this kind of espionage forever.”

Hotch’s eyes sparkled with restrained laughter. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He was already back to work, his usual intensity in place, but he looked up just long enough to catch your eye and give you a brief, almost imperceptible nod.

You nodded back, smiling. “Jokes apart, thank you, Hotch, really.”

“You’re welcome,” he said finally, his voice softer. “And if you ever feel like helping me out with another case like yesterday’s, just let me know.”

You gave him a playful salute. “Deal. But don’t think I won’t call you out when I catch you snooping through my files next time.”

Hotch’s eyes twinkled with restrained laughter. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Meanwhile Gideon leaned against the doorframe of Rossi’s office, watching his old friend sift through a case file with the kind of focused intensity that had made him a legend in the Bureau. But today, Gideon wasn’t there to discuss a case. He had noticed something recently, an unexpected but welcome development among the team, one that involved you and Hotch.

“Got a minute, Dave?” Gideon asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Rossi looked up, raising an eyebrow at the unusually cheerful tone. “For you, always. What’s going on?”

Gideon stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He glanced briefly through the blinds, catching sight of you and Hotch at your desks, deep in your usual quiet exchanges. “I’ve been watching Y/N and Hotch,” he began, leaning casually against the desk. “I have to say, I’m impressed. She’s only been here a few weeks, but they’ve already got something… special going on.”

Rossi smirked, setting his file down. “You mean the way she’s got him smiling at eight in the morning? Yeah, I’ve noticed. It’s like watching a miracle unfold.”

Gideon chuckled quietly. “I knew she was something special when I first saw her at the academy, but I didn’t expect her to click with Hotch so fast. They’re both pretty guarded, but when they’re working together... it’s like they’re speaking their own language.”

Rossi nodded thoughtfully, following Gideon’s gaze through the blinds. “They’re a good match. She challenges him in ways the rest of us don’t, and he’s bringing out something in her, too. You know, you were right to pair them up on that first case. You planned this, didn’t you?”

Gideon shrugged, a faint smile playing at his lips. “I had a feeling. Hotch needed someone who could challenge his perspective, shake up his routine a little. And she… well, I knew she’d benefit from his discipline, his way of grounding things when they get too abstract. Plus, I figured if they didn’t kill each other, they’d probably make a great team.”

Rossi leaned back, crossing his arms with a knowing grin. “I guess we both had our little plans, didn’t we? You remember that guy who used to sit at the desk in front of Hotch?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow, surprised by the turn of the conversation. “The one who suddenly had that one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to lead an undercover operation? That was you?”

Rossi’s grin widened. “Oh, yeah. He was a really good agent, an excellent one actually, but he was never really a fit for teamwork. I saw an opening and might’ve... nudged him in that direction. You kept going on about Y/N back then, about how her expertise in philosophy would be an asset to the BAU. You even gave me this whole rundown of her personality: sharp, quick-witted, not afraid to push back. I knew right then she’d be perfect for Hotch.”

Gideon laughed, shaking his head. “You sneaky son of a... You were setting this up long before she even started.”

Rossi nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. “You convinced me she’d bring something new, but I could see it wasn’t just about adding a fresh perspective. I saw the potential for something more, a partnership that would push both of them. So yeah, I cleared the way a little. Let’s just say the seating arrangements weren’t accidental.”

Gideon pointed a finger at Rossi, his face alight with amusement. “And you call me sly? You practically orchestrated the whole thing.”

Rossi chuckled. “I just gave them the stage. The rest? That’s all them.”

Meanwhile, outside Rossi’s office, you spotted the two veteran profilers deep in conversation. You couldn’t help but smirk, seeing the perfect chance to tease Hotch about his painfully awkward first attempt to break the ice with you during your first field case together. An interaction so miserable that neither of you ever brought it up again, especially the bizarre conspiracy theory he tried to use as common ground. But you just couldn’t resist bringing back your old inside joke: the running gag that Rossi and Gideon were secretly an item.

You turned to Hotch, who was diligently working on another file, and without saying a word, you nodded your head in the direction of Rossi’s office. He glanced up, following your line of sight, and immediately caught on. With a slight raise of his eyebrow and a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned back in his chair, pretending to stretch but really angling himself to get a better view through the blinds.

“Can’t believe they’re still trying to keep it under wraps,” you whispered, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “It’s like they think we’re not onto them.”

Hotch chuckled softly, surprised that you were bringing up that old joke again. He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard. “Clearly discussing anniversary plans. I bet Rossi forgot to book the romantic getaway Gideon’s been hinting at for weeks.”

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, nodding along. “You’d think after all these years, Rossi would know better. Gideon’s a stickler for anniversaries.”

Hotch’s expression was one of pure mischief. “I swear, if Rossi starts another argument about their anniversary dinner being interrupted by Bureau business, I’m not sure even Gideon can save them this time.”

You shook your head, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Maybe that’s why Gideon looks so serious. He’s probably rethinking the whole relationship. Can’t be easy dealing with a partner who’s constantly prioritizing work.”

Hotch’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he added, “Gideon’s probably thinking about counseling, he’d better hope Rossi can handle it. You know how he gets about any ‘psychological mumbo jumbo.’”

Inside Rossi’s office, Gideon continued, unaware of the playful scrutiny from outside. “So, we’re agreed then? We let them work together more often?”

Rossi nodded, smiling at the thought. “Definitely. They’ll keep each other sharp. Besides, it’s fun watching Hotch get flustered.”

Gideon laughed softly. “It’s not just fun, it’s necessary. I think we’re seeing something good here, Dave. They’ve got the makings of a great partnership.”

Back outside, you and Hotch continued your banter as you watched Rossi and Gideon converse through the glass. You turned to Hotch with a mock serious look. “You know, at this point, I’m half expecting them to make a grand announcement at the next briefing.”

Hotch nodded sagely, playing along. “It’ll be the talk of the office. I’m just waiting for the inevitable joint vacation request.”

You both laughed quietly, and for a moment, it was just you two, lost in the absurdity of your ongoing joke. It was moments like these that made the long hours and high stakes of the job more bearable, and as you glanced over at Hotch, you realized just how much you appreciated these little breaks from reality.

Hotch turned back to his work, but not before giving you one last, knowing smile. “You know, if this keeps up, we might have to start planning their wedding.”

You pretended to think about it, grinning. “Oh, I’ve already got the venue in mind. I’m thinking a quaint little spot in the woods, somewhere private, just the two of them.”

Hotch chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re too good at this.”

“And you’re just as bad,” you shot back playfully.

As you both returned to your respective tasks, the bond between you and Hotch felt stronger than ever.

Little did you know, the very pairing that had sparked your inside joke was also the one that had recognized your potential as a duo, quietly cheering you on.

[lovebvni]

repetition (a pick-a-pile)

in honor of my friends kai ( @klxudykai )and nile (who doesn’t want to be tagged), i want to do a little pap! this will be black white and purple themed for them too (their pfp colours)

i know both of them are going through cycles of repeating their actions over and over, and it is hard for them. i know it’s frustrating — hell i hate repetition. but you find peace in it.

this pick-a-pile is just advice for your manifesting and/or shifting journey. there is no real theme, but i asked spirit to bring up something you need to repeat for each pile.

this pap is intuition and shufflemancy-based. i am not using tarot nor cards at all for this. this is also for entertainment purposes. take my words with a grain of salt AND please do not use this as legal or life advice.

now, inhale and exhale. believe in your intuition, and pick a picture.

[1 ; 2

3 ; 4]

pile 1 the spiral.

hi pile 1! here’s confirmation for your pile : cycles, crying, cynical, the letter c (in your name of in the name of your significant other. casey and clark stand out.), puns, clairaudience, crown, clowns, (a lot of words w the letter c jesus christ..), underwater, drowning, sinking, the sea, oceans, water (s), fix your face, black, sexism, activist, reality shifter, cyclones, spirals, “i feel like im not seeing any signs/progress”

well pile one, you could feel like you are stuck in a cycle. just a torpedo and you’re getting hit with the same things over and over. you’re wondering why things aren’t changing, why this won’t end, but it’s because YOU won’t change. this is the harshest i think i have ever been in a pick a card, but you really need to get over yourself. realize you aren’t the person you should be, throw that person away and reinvent yourself. you want a lot in life, and you aren’t going to get it if you don’t decide to change yourself. the universe chose you for a reason, but if you keep having your own pity party, you aren’t gonna get anywhere. stop getting mad when you’re being told the truth. it isn’t there to hurt you. it’s there to help you. the truth is a tool. and as long as you keep ignoring it, you keep hiding from the monster inside your closet, it’s never gonna leave. it’s gonna haunt you. it’s like a negative spirit. lure it out and keep it coming. it is gonna hurt, but it’s worth it.

your required repetition is “continue to listen and change yourself. transformation.”

the waiting season is one where you need to work, don’t keep sulking.

now to interpreting your song, her by poppy. you have been trying to be someone else that you are not, for someone else. the chorus

“I'm getting to know her And all of her anger You won't recognize her If you encountered I'm getting to know her And all of her anger Picked herself up Put her back together”

you need to change and you know it, and you don’t know how. start with your anger, your sadness, a strong emotion and unravel it. unwrap it like a gift. keep pulling to you get to the root of the cause — hold it.. nurture it… and get the mud off it.

see this as a new start, pile one. i love you. you need to know you’re strong, and you can do this. don’t get annoyed, because i know you’ve been told this before. fix your face.

pile 2 ghouls

hello pile 2! here’s confirmation this is your pile!!: fairies, love, purple, green, heart chakra and third eye chakra, shadows, “on a silver platter”, polite, scars, romance, sacred, girl blogger, skull and bones, doja cat, fear of success, screaming, pink, sexuality, white, sensuality, fire and ice, opposites, blood, self sabotage, royalty, alternative, goth, knight, disability, multilingual, this specific dynamic, vampire

simplicity. simplify everything. that’s all spirit is saying. don’t over complicate things. that’s like all spirit is saying u guys 😭😭

they r literally saying clear your mind, just be the person you are meant to be. listen to your intuition, be creative, have love in your heart, even when times are hard, and let emotions flow.

spirit told me your manifestations are actively coming in 😭😭 idek why you’re reading this pac! like there are no notes, nothing else you need to do. just listen to your intuition and be in tune with yourself. god i love this pile bc yall r js so sweet and light hearted — like there’s so much hidden positivity here that’s waiting to come out.

good job on how far you’ve come, and hav fun where you’re going! love you pile 2!

pile 3 — unclear memory

hi pile 3! here’s your confirmation: “even a worm will turn”, disappointment, ditsy, protector, big eyes, proposal, hobbit core, hermitcraft, minecraft, silence, under another’s control, blush, light colours (pastels), resting, new opportunities, distractions, distant, chapell roan, wlw.

you’re over possessive but you cut out your heart. or someone else cut it out. you need to get your priorities straight. there’s so much going on in your brain. they all lead to the same thing, don’t they? like how a spider web meets in the middle.

you’re sad, i can tell, but you won’t let anyone know. you think you’ve done enough, or even too much, but in reality you’ve been distracted. you’re trying to hide your main in overworking. doing too much.

your repeating advice is “get back on track and focus on your morals”.

but dont become some else. become yourself. stop holding grudges. get yourself back.

pile 4 — kisses

hi pile 4! here’s confirmation this is your pile: shadow work, brooklyn nine-nine, wolf pack, furry, july, suicidal but continuing, height difference, jumbled thoughts, flowers, blue and pink, wash off the makeup, ombré, counting crows poem.

this is my dogs favorite song 😭😭

pile four, you have been looking for outer validation when you don’t need it. you’re searching for signs, for love, for confirmation you’re on the right path when you really jay need yourself. you’re putting yourself down and other people/the universe on a pedestal. YOU ARE THE UNIVERSE!! REALIZE THAT!

what you say goes. what you want will happen. and that’s that.

your advice is as follows ; “you need to just rest.”

and i think that’s great advice. sit down and relax. listen to music, meditate, be at peace. work on yourself. try journaling too!! it will help.

thank yall for reading!! <3 i hope this helps someone. finishing this at 5:55 pm btw!!

[maplecaster]

Deciphering Jerma's Water Tier List

on stream, jerma was talking about how he and his girlfriend holly made a water tier list by doing a blind taste test of a few brands. then he put on the screen this abomination:

chat was very confused, and unfortunately jerma was too, this honestly looks like some kind of strange ancient indecipherable code. however i was able to figure it out so i want to share what it means.

let's take a look at the right side for now because it's simpler

we see three columns- one unlabled, one labeled "grade" and one labeled "which?". jerma told us what some of the letters on the left stand for, so it's safe to assume this is just a list of water brands. he never said what E stands for so i had to guess. Reverse Osmosis is his water filter, but i'll be calling it a brand for simplicity.

knowing this, it's clear the "grade" column is what this person thought of each brand. we can also see that the same letters reappear in the "which?" column:

this means they weren't only making a tier list, but also a little guessing game for which brand they thought it was. (this person got 4/6 correct!)

now that we know this, let's look at the left side again:

Ah. Mhm. Well, if you look at it, it's not really that complicated. it's formatted the same way as the last one:

...almost. firstly, the very left side just has numbers, 2 3 5 1 6 4, this was the order the waters were tested in. presumably, these numbers are also the order in which the other side of the board was graded. the last brand, RO, doesn't have a guess, probably because the person just knew, either from taste or from process of elimination.

jerma seemed to really identify with this side, which would mean holly is the one who wrote it (you can't have the tester write their own results.) i was skeptical of this. there's no way holly would make something this unorganized and messy, and i can't see jerma labeling those columns on the right. that's when i noticed this detail that i've been skipping over..

these cut off letters at the top. i'm fairly certain that's an H on the left and a J on the right, which means jerma is the one who wrote holly's results messily and holly is the one who made the labeled columns. (i also think jerma's results were written first, despite them being on the right)

with all this information, i wanted to recreate the table. So i did

Hope everyone enjoyed it