#and it’d be so nice to reply to my nice comments with the right blog… :333

[leadendeath]

oh my god. OH MY GOD NOOO WAY HAVE THEY ADDED A THING WHERE U CAN REPLY FROM A SIDEBLOG NO FREAKIN WAY

i feel like i’m havign a delusion (not exagerating or misusing the word, normal for me) this is an Entire game changer if it s real. i have been yearning for this for YEARS wtf

[fanfics-with-coffee]

To be kind, To be a fool

This has only been proofread and edited by a sleep deprived me sooooo, I also wrote it in a daze from 1AM to 6AM. I'm back in my Baldurs Gate 3 hole and I've been so very inspired from so many other fanfic writers I got back on this blog

You did it, you saved the prisoners from Moonrise Towers and everybody is back, safe and sound at least for tonight. You and Astarion are holding back from the festivities, instead talking about your act of heroism and why you do it. You say you choose to be kind for who else will, he says you're choosing to be a fool for what else is kindness if not foolish.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: Astarion x reader Words: 4400

Its doubtful if Last Light Inn had been quite so lively as when you returned in the raggedy old boat with the prisoners from Moonrise Towers. Once they had been cleared, everyone had ran to their loved ones or simply rejoiced in the warmth of the fire, ever burning away the darkness that threatened to creep inside any crevice it could get it's cold claws into. And of course they soothed their dry throats with the little wine and ale that was left behind when the shadow curse had blanketed the land. The two boys manning the bar were running around relentlessly, trying their best to fill every empty goblet and mug they could spot, leaving no one without a drink. It’d probably only be hours before Jaheira had to call it a night so they wouldn’t run out of the little liquid joy they had left. But until then, the celebrations were loud and proud.

For a moment, things were bright, despite the dark sky. 

“What a ruckus, you could almost think that Lathander himself had been in attendance.” Astarion mused, one hand gracefully swirling a glass of wine while the other rested on his upper arm. He was leaning against the wall beside you in a corner of the inn that hadn’t been filled with people. Not that it was difficult, even with the prisoners free it was barely enough to fill the tables and chairs. You smiled, watching the tieflings try to catch up after the devastating nights apart. 

“If Lathander was here, I think there’d be a lot more dancing on tables and a lot more wine.”

“True… And a lot more fucking.” Astarion replied with that signature cheeky smile he always pulls when he’s said something salacious or teasing. You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, nodding along to his line of thought. He wasn’t wrong. 

“You’re probably right. Well at least we could let these people see another dawn, I think in a sense maybe Lathander really is here.” You pull your eyes from the happy faces and let them reflect in your mug of ale before downing another mouthful of it. The smooth, delicate taste of honey coats your tastebuds and leaves a pleasant warmth in your stomach.

“I didn’t take you for the god honoring type, you know? Besides, these people didn’t need Lathander, they had their own little ray of sunshine coming to their rescue anyways. Our own little goody-two-shoe altruist in shining armor.” He teases you, reminding you that there weren’t any gods in the belly of Moonrise Towers. Yet beneath the lighthearted tone you detected something else, a familiar bitterness and disapproval that he had given you before. That he gave you whenever you did something ‘too nice’, ‘too self sacrificing’ or ‘too cheaply’. You had long ago started ignoring it, instead taking it as a sign you probably did the right thing.

“Mmmh, mayhaps. I mean we were there anyways, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be left there to the Absolutists if I was stuck either.” You give him an answer you know he’ll hate and you made sure to slather some extra kindness in there as well just to really make a point. “And I find enough reward in watching these people.”

Astarion rolls his eyes hard enough you worry they’re gonna get stuck to the back of his head. You watch him, unable to hold in a laugh as he pretends to vomit from how ‘disgustingly sweet’ you are. You don’t say anything for a moment as he lets his eyes roam the room, the soft light of the torches reflecting upon his white locks of hair. You can see the disgust in his eyes as he watches them, and you could only guess as to why he felt so strongly about your acts of kindness. 

“I can’t wait to see the day you realize that none of these people would do the same for you… When someone betrays your kindness and I can stand there and laugh, telling you ‘I told you so’.”

He says it nonchalantly, as if it’s a fact. He let’s his own hatred for the world seep through every syllable yet he hides it behind a face that says he doesn’t care. You expected comments like this to come from him, you expected resistance to helping the helpless. Yet something about his words right now makes your chest tighten in anger, the notion that you were simply too stupid to realize that not everyone was kind. That he was maybe smarter and more experienced than you for seeing the cruelness in the world. You turn sharply to face him, slamming your mug down a little too harshly on a table close by. Astarions eyes meet yours, he never expected you to react like this, you had never before raised your voice at him. The air has grown tense. 

“Astarion, I am kind. I am not a fool, and you should do well to remember that there is a difference.” Your words are sharp yet you’re thankful no one else has seemed to notice you two. “I know that people will hurt me, and betray me. That people will not always do the same as I would’ve done. But if I don’t help, then who will? I have the power to make a change and I’ve chosen to use that power. You don’t have to agree, but you’re not allowed to tell me that I am wrong for deciding to be kind.”

He can see the hurt in your eyes as you correct him. That it’s not a question about your own navïte making you help others, but the fact you put conscious effort into being kind, despite the risk it has. Cold, uncomfortable embarrassment washes over him like ice water. A feeling he despises and so he sets it alight with anger instead, feeling himself burn with it as he finds himself again. His fingers clench around the half empty glass of wine he continues to hold onto. Thoughts swirl around in his head, trying to find the ones that will hurt the most, a painful payback for embarrassing him.

“And pray tell what is the difference? You waste not just your own time helping these idiots, but ours too. We were here to find a cure, yet all we’ve done is listen to sob stories and rescue people who will most likely die on the road to Baldurs Gate anyways. What kind of fool would waste so much energy and time on things that will lead to the exact same result anyways, I believe that’s actually what people call insanity.” He makes himself appear taller as he pushes himself off the wall and stands in front of you, scowling as he meets your gaze. 

How dare you tell him that he’s wrong? After 200 years of cruel torment and nights spent around people who could not give less of a shit about him, you’re telling him there’s people out there that care? And if so then it’s even worse, because that would mean no one simply knew he was in pain. Was Astarions own torment not enough for people to even notice?

No, he knows what he went through. No one cares about others' torment unless there’s something in it for them, even if just so they could feel a little better about themselves and comes at no expense of theirs. It’s always just about ourselves, Astarion just skips the other steps and puts himself first. Why could you just not do the same? Why did you have to go out of your way for anyone else?

“Fine, call me a fool. Insane, även. Say what you want about me, Astarion, but I will always choose to be kind. I’m sorry no one made that choice for you before, I am. B-”

“Do not tell me about kindness, y/n, there is no altruistic kindness like the one you speak of it’s a performance people put on for others.” His words are cold and sharp, they bite into your heart in much the same way his teeth pierce your skin. Painful. “We should all put ourselves first, it’s what everyone wants to do anyways! Skip the damn pleasantries and just be honest about it at the very least. I’m tired of having to look beyond the kindness just to see their true intentions.”

He’s rambling without thinking, remembering all the kind words and touches he’s received just because someone wanted to get in his pants. All the faux acts of kindness he watched Cazador perform so he could get what he wanted, or even just to make sure whatever cruel act he had in mind would hurt even more. All the nights in the beginning where he debated how he could save a victim, just to realize he’d get nothing but pain in return. The kind acts he himself performed in hopes of receiving something kind in return. 

The way he seduced you just to make sure he had safe passage to Baldurs Gate, to a cure. 

You were left speechless, caught off-guard by the outburst of emotions. You knew he was selfish but this was rooted deeper and maybe you should’ve realized when he had finally told you about Cazador and his ‘siblings’. You clenched your hands, trying to find something to refute his points. To prove him wrong. Yet you have nothing of worth to sooth his pain. He sees your hesitations and assumes he’s finally gotten through to you, he’s won. His red eyes leave yours to once again look at the others smiling faces, not wanting you to see the disappointment grow in him as he realizes he was right.

“So you’ve never been kind just to be kind?”

“No. Never.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, letting the motion tilt his head back as he finally raises his glass of wine, downing the rest of it. The sudden action makes the glass flow over the corners of his mouth and the deep red liquid coats his chin and drips down on his chest, staining the white fabric of his shirt. It bleeds into the criss-cross stitching and travels further down before he has time to react. 

You gasp and grab an old handkerchief stuffed in your pocket, quickly moving to try and save his favorite shirt. It's instinctual, thoughtless. Even when you’re mad at him and even though he’s furious at you, you try to help him. As soon as the cloth touches him, shame spreads like a disease through him, regret taking root in his chest somewhere where his beating heart should’ve been. 

He hates it.

“Don’t touch me.” He bites back, snatching the handkerchief from your hand to do the job himself. You instantly step back, putting your hands up to make sure you give him space.

“Tsk, I’m going to bed. Good night, y/n.” He’s aggressively dabbing at the stain as he starts walking away, trying to soak up as much as possible but it’s clear it's a useless endeavor, it will forever remain stained.

“Astarion!” You call out to him before he gets too far and he stops momentarily, turning to finally look at you. 

He’s met with pity reflecting off of your eyes in the lowly lit room. 

He hates it.

You say something else but suddenly the sounds of the celebrations drown out whatever it was. He doesn’t even try to listen and simply turns around to find the room that he had been given as a thank you from Jaheira. He didn’t need your pity, he didn’t tell you about his past because he wanted your pity, anyone would feel pity for him if he told them what had happened to him. He wanted you to… care. Foolishly, he wanted you to care about him, about what had happened to him. He wanted you to listen to his issues and maybe, just maybe, you’d want to help him like you helped everyone else around you. And maybe you’d do something without asking for anything in return. 

Yet tonight, he reminded himself that no such thing as true kindness existed. And to expect you to care about him despite who he was at his core was foolish itself. Your kindness came at a cost he hadn’t even thought about; You expected him to change in return for your kindness. He was mean, he was selfish and he wouldn’t let you change him for anything.

He turns to close the door to the room he was staying in, the feeling of his shirt clinging to his chest uncomfortable and wet. Astarions eyes find you in the same corner he left you, yet your eyes didn’t meet. Gale and Karlach had come up to you, pulling your attention to them. You had quickly started smiling and laughing again, one hand on Karlachs shoulder in a calming manner. 

Why had he even let himself hope that you would follow after him?

He closed the door.

The hours dragged on, the darkness in the Shadowlands making day and night nearly indistinguishable. The only thing that made time feel real was the ever waning torches, slowly burning out. And while you felt like it must’ve been a fortnight of drinking, laughing and talking, it can’t actually have been more than three hours based on how many torches had already burned out and been replaced. You had been convinced to join Karlach by the grill, Wyll telling stories of his time as the Blade of Frontiers in the soft glow. You listened and laughed, at points discussing the actual validity of these stories. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t let the thought of Astarion go. He hadn’t left the room he was staying in, all alone in there, perhaps still trying to clean the shirt he always seemed to wear. 

As people finally sated themselves and found their companions, the celebrations died down to  a quiet mumble amongst those unable to sleep. The children had long ago been told to head to bed, only occasionally peeking their heads out from the dorm or coming out to ask for a late night snack. Jaheira herself had taken over the bartending but was now stuck pleasantly talking with some fists that had sat down after their patrol shift. Even most of your companions had headed to bed, either in the dorm or at camp depending on their preference, Astarion had specifically called dibs on the single private room. 

“Well, I think it’s best I call it a night as well!” Karlach stood up and stretched her muscular arms over her head. “You should do the same, soldier, can’t have our tactician getting sloppy!” She smiled at you, expectantly putting her hands on her hips as she waited for you to stand up and walk with her.

“Oh, I think I’m going to stay up just a little more. I’m sorta enjoying the quiet murmur in here, and I haven’t really had the time to speak with Jaheira since we came back.” You lied, trying to give her a convincing smile. But you couldn’t hold her eyes with yours, instead turning your head to watch the door to Astarions room, trying to make it look casual. 

“Riiight… You know, I don’t know what’s going on between you and fangs but I wouldn’t take anything he says to heart. He’s sorta dumber than he wants us to think, so whatever he told you… Eh well, I dunno, I’m not the smartest myself.” She laughs at herself, the alcohol having had an effect on her after quite a few bottles. “But I am the strongest! So if he needs  a good assbeating then I’m here for ya. I know he can say some pretty rude stuff at times even if he doesn’t mean it. What is it people say? Hurt people, hurt people?”

“You’re right Karlach...” You smile at her, she may say that she’s not smart but she knows people better than most. “But it’s fine between me and Astarion, we just had a disagreement but it’s nothing to worry about, I don’t think. Though I know an assbeating wouldn’t help, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Well if you say so, soldier! I’ll see you in the morning then I guess.” She gives you a hard pat on your back before leaving, yawning loudly as she walks towards the dorm room, softly ‘shoo’-ing another tiefling child back into the room.

You spend some time just watching the embers of the firepit burn, feeling the heat hitting your face in waves and drying out your lips. You drink the last of the wine in your cup and lick your lips, standing from the stool to leave the empty cup at the bar. Your eyes find the wooden door again and you spend a long moment debating if it’s a good idea. Facing Astarion right now would be awkward and draining, it would even risk you two blowing up at each other again. Yet you know he was hurt, that much was obvious.

The knock is soft and you’re uncertain if he could even hear it over the sound of the fireplace in the room. You consider that maybe he had gone to bed in the end, it had been hours since you saw him after all. 

“Astarion? Can I come in?” You call out softly, afraid to wake him if he was in trance but wanting to give it at least one more shot before you give up. It takes a moment but suddenly the door opens ever so slightly, just enough to let you know it was open but not enough to see him in the doorway. You take that as a ‘yes’ and carefully push it open further. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps come to the door nor leave, yet when you slip through the crack of the door he’s sitting on the bed. The room is dark, long shadows being cast from the dying fire. The moon lights up his pale skin and even paler hair, reflecting off of him as a glow. His legs are crossed and he’s leaned back on his hands, his chest exposed. He looks as if he’s made of marble, his chest doesn’t even move with breaths as you watch him, a quirk of his vampirism you’ve realized. You make sure to close the door behind you, never turning away. 

Neither of you say anything. There’s a book open  next to him on the bed, it’s the sequel of some book he had picked up early on in your adventure. You had gotten the sequel for him after he expressed his enjoyment for the first one, it had cost you a gold but it was worth it. You stare at it, unwilling to meet his gaze directly. Yet his is firmly placed on you, indifferent and icy.

“Well? Were you just here to get your handkerchief back or did you want something?” He spoke first, raising an eyebrow.

“...Is it as good as the first book?” You ask, finally looking him in the eyes. He furrows his brows before he looks at the book next to him, realizing what you meant.

“It’s decent. I liked the twist in the first book so it has a lot to live up to, but it’s an enjoyable read. But I’m sure you’re not here for some midnight book club so out with it. What do you want?” He’s clearly pushing you away, but the fact that he opened the door when he heard it was you must mean he’s willing to listen.

“I wanted to come see how you were doing. Did you manage to get the stain out of your shirt?”

“I’m fine, thank you. And no, I did not, I will have to try to find someone who knows prestidigitation to get it out, I believe. Now if you excuse me, I’d quite like to get back to my bo-” He’s about to pick his book back up, clearly done with the conversation if you weren’t going to get to any point.

“I also wanted to apologize.” 

He raises an eyebrow and looks at you, giving you his full attention and newfound interest in the conversation.

“I snapped at you, and while I don’t think I was in the wrong for doing that-” He rolls his eyes, making it clear he disagrees with you but he lets you keep talking. “I shouldn’t have made it sound like being kind was an effortless choice and that you always can and should choose. It’s not easy every single time. So I’m sorry.” You try to gauge his reaction, see if he gives you any sort of response. He doesn’t at first, his face difficult to make out in the drastic lighting. The distance between you may only be a couple meters but right now you feel like there's kingdoms between you.

“...You say that yet you make it seem so damn easy. You never question why someone needs help, if it’s their own fault for getting themselves in that situation. You never assume people have any other intentions than what they tell you up front. You’re kind as effortlessly as some breathe.” He spits out the words as if they’re venom, once again speaking as if he believes you’re a fool. “Even to me, you’re kind. You ask me about my wounds, if I like the books I read, if I’m comfortable, where I learned to sew… I thought you were just trying to get in my bed at first, something I’m used to. I’ve given my body to countless ‘kind souls’, but now I’ve realized you just want me to be another victim you saved. Another person you’ve fixed. So you can play hero and get all the love and praise that entails. ‘Hero of Faerûn saves poor vampire spawn! Look at this poor sucker!’” He uses his hands to show off the fake headlines.

“Pun intended.” There's a sarcastic smile on his face as he stands up, grabbing your bloodied and wine stained handkerchief from the bed table before approaching you.

“That’s not why I did those things, Astarion, please. I care about you, just liste-”

“Well jokes on you, your kindness has been wasted on me. I’ve used you for my own gain, you know?” He throws your handkerchief against your chest, forcing you to clutch it so as to not let it fall. “I played with you just as easily as any other poor fool I’d find in Baldurs Gate’s whorehouses. You were ridiculously easy, just a few kind words and charming smiles and you were wrapped around my finger! Not that I blame you, have you seen me? I’m hard to resist. But it’s time to drop the pleasantries, the kindness, you’ve just been a tool for me to find a way to survive and I’ve just been another notch in your belt. But I am not another helpless pawn for you to feel good about ‘fixing’. I am pessimistic, I am selfish, I am merciless and I am cruel, and you won’t ever be able to change that.” He finally finishes his monologue, still forgetting to mimic the act of breathing as he stands before you in eerie silence. There’s a sense of vulnerability within his eyes despite his posture. Like a cornered animal lashing out in a desperate attempt to be left alone, to not be hurt.

You’re standing close to him now, mere decimeters away from each other's bodies. Yours heated and warm and his forever cold to the touch. You move slowly when you finally decide what you want to say, what you need him to realize. His eyes notice your hand raising and he tenses up even further, preparing him for what? He’s not sure. Then your hand reaches his face, softly cupping his cheek with your palm. Your heat exchanges with his, your hand slowly warming his skin while yours cools to the touch. He’s in shock, unable to say or do anything, just watching your face to try and read what your intentions are.

“I’ve tried to tell you, even before you went in here. I will always choose to be kind to you, Astarion, just as you are.”

He finally sucks in air, his lips parting to make sure his lungs fill fully and it’s as if it's his first breath since he died in that alley. That’s what you had tried to tell him before he left. You smile, moving your hand to brush a strand of his hair out of his face, observing his features. The dark, angry and nearly sadistic expression he carried before when he was trying to hurt you has washed away, leaving only the face of a lost young man standing before you. Eyes wide and mouth agape as you fully brushed off all the cruel things he said to you. Could he do nothing to scare you away, force you to back off? Keep you locked out of his heart?

He closes his mouth finally, eyes cast down to the floor as shame once again flowers in his chest, the thorns digging into every nerve.

“Even when I make it a difficult choice?” He asks quietly, shyly.

“Yes, even when it’s a difficult choice. But I don’t find it difficult to care for you Astarion. If you let me… I wouldn’t even find it difficult to love you.” You laugh a little, the question was silly to you after all. 

“You really are a fool.” A smile forms on his lips, the smile lines you’ve always adored finally showing themselves and his eyes as softening. He could never understand you, you’d never make sense to him. No matter how many times he thinks he has you pegged, you always go over and beyond his expectations. And once he thinks you’ve reached your limit on kindness, he finds a little more, even for a monster like him. His hands, which had consistently remained at his sides until now, moved up to find your hips. Astarion pulled you in closer to him, soaking in your heat and digging his head into the crook of your neck. You can’t help but laugh again, loud and happy, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer to you.

“I will always be kind, even if it does make me a fool.”

[tastelikeglttrr]

excuse me, um, i love you {6}

ian smith x influencer! reader smau

warnings: cursing, mention of a past sexual interaction

authors note: guys i really like this part and i hope you do too!! also sorry for the difference in themes and dividers i'm kinda trying to explore the aesthetic of the blog. liking and rebloging helps alot. :))

word count: 609

You woke up the next morning in a great mood, still feeling content from the events of the night before. As you turned over, you noticed an unfamiliar dent in the bed—awkward, yet somehow comforting.

You got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and went through your usual morning routine. After getting dressed, you headed down the hall toward the kitchen. As you crossed the threshold, you saw Ian cooking something. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

"Morning," you said in a sing-song voice. "What's up?" Ian replied with a casual nod. "I got coffee," he added. "Egypt told me where your favorite shop is and what you usually order."

"That's really sweet of you. Thanks," you said, smiling.

youruser posted!

"I—I don’t know, just a thought, but like..." Ian stumbled over his words. "We’ve already, uh, you know... fucked twice, right?" He paused.

"Right," you said with a giggle.

"So, I feel like I should, you know, take you out and shit," he continued. "There’s this art exhibit, and I thought it’d be cool. Egypt told me you’re into physical media and shit, and since it’s my last day in LA..." Ian rambled on, clearly nervous.

"Ian, babe, yes, I'd love to go. What time?" you said with a sweet smile.

"Uh, probably 7. We could, like, get something to eat or whatever."

"Yeah, cool. 7’s good for me."

"Right. Cool," he said, looking visibly relieved.

time skip because i'm lazy. i'm sorry guys :(

You had gotten home from your outing with Egypt later than expected, so you quickly changed into something cute and headed out to meet Ian. You were running a little behind, but you were excited to see him. When you arrived at the art exhibit, Ian was already waiting for you. As soon as he spotted you, he greeted you with a warm smile. "Hi," he said, his voice a bit shy. You couldn't help but smile at this softer side of him. It made you feel special—like you were one of the few who got to see him like this. "Hi," you replied, your smile matching his. He returned the smile, looking more relaxed now, and the two of you walked through the exhibit together. The gallery was quiet, filled with the hum of murmured conversations and the soft rustle of footsteps on the hardwood floors. You found yourself enjoying the moment, the closeness of it, the way Ian seemed to be soaking in every piece of art just as intently as you were. "This is gorgeous" you said, stopping in front of a large abstract painting. "For sure," Ian agreed, standing close beside you. You could feel the warmth of his presence, his eyes flicking between the art and you.

As the two of you moved from piece to piece, the conversation drifted between the art and more personal topics—stories about childhood memories, your favorite artists, and even some of the weirder things you’d both seen in LA. Time seemed to slip by unnoticed as you lost yourself in the easy rhythm between the two of you. "This is nice," you said after a while, your voice quiet but genuine. "I’m glad we’re doing this." Ian smiled at you again, his earlier nervousness now completely gone. "Me too. It’s... it’s good. I like being with you." You looked at him, feeling a connection that went beyond just the casual fun you’d shared in previous times. This, you thought, was something real. Something you wanted to keep forever. “You ready to go? There's this italian spot and im geeked to try it" Ian asked, breaking the moment but in a way that felt natural. "Definitely," you replied, your heart light. "Let’s go."

youruser posted!

like by egyptelyse, tckrchdlr, iaaaaannn, and 1.1k others

youruser pretty little birds

view all 168 comments...

user1 y/n ur so iconic

user2 ariana what are u doing here

egyptelyse my pretty girl

liked by youruser

tckrchdlr guys this caption has layers!

youruser best sza song tbh

iaaaaannn yeah

user3 mama a ian behind u user4 run immediately shes toxic asf

xoxo

-korie

[ajoytobeheld]

I WISH THIS WAS A LIVEJOURNAL ACCOUNT

March 20th, 2008

this is my favourite time of the day when we’re not on tour.

3pm: come dine with me (best thing on tv)

3:30pm: countdown

4:15pm: deal or no deal (often coupled with a nap)

5pm: golden balls

6pm: friends

6:30pm: hollyoaks

usually sat with one or both of my sisters, and my mum.

one of the things I think about often as ‘gareth off of los campesinos!’ is how truthful i should be with my opinions. i mean, if 18 months ago somebody had come up to me on the street and said “what do you think of <insert name of band I don’t like here>?” then I would happily, gloriously have rattled off a list of reasons why they are awful and why anybody who likes them is very foolish.

but since being in a band that for some reason music press and some humans are vaguely interested in I find myself facing questions like this quite a lot. I think the best thing to do would be to refuse to comment, or reply with something like “can’t i just speak about bands i like instead?”, which i did do for a long time, but that got boring. It’s not through a desire to be controversial at all, but just to be HONEST. i’m a ‘music fan’. and music fans talk about bands that they like and bands that they don’t like, right? it’s natural.

so now I’ve been asked to do a question thing for a broadsheet newspaper, and it sets me up with questions like these:

“I couldn’t marry someone who liked…“

“The worst song I have heard is…“

 what’s a boy to do?

I just saw an advert for crusha milk shake syrup stuff. It’s animated by the people that do rathergood.com. i remember spending a lot of time on that site when i was about 17. but basically, this time round in a post-’LOL cats’ world, I can see this being a pretty succesful ad-campaign (oh yeh, it has comedy cats in it, that’s my point).

i should write something about band stuff shouldn’t i? I’m mostly doing this because there have been no blog posts for a long time, and it’d be nice to keep it alive. But I’m not much up for writing about stuff that happens on tour, because i’ve already told my parents, and if i did it would probably look like this:

“HUMMUS IN FRANCE HAS DAIRY IN IT!! WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT!?!?!”

we just got back from SXSW though. it was a really great experience and put british festivals to shame (we said this about lollapalooza last year. i guess there’s just a lot more money and a lot less rain involved in those things). i got to see so many bands I was desperate to. Mika Miko, High Places, Times New Viking, John Maus, etc. the weather was glorious. i took my shirt off for a bit and wore shirts and sunglasses because there was no other way.

Listen to more: High Places, Mika Miko, Psychedelic Horseshit, cLOUDDEAD.

every time the bank asks me my ‘occupation’ i die inside a little. 

what are your best dating tips? mine would be:

“always go out with someone who likes you a little bit more than you like them”.

and one day i will DO IT!

i’m gonna start work on issue two of ROMANCE IS BORING very shortly. some really exciting people have already said they will contribute. it’ll be ready for the april shows. probably. 

garethx 

[ultrone]

EAGER TO PLEASE

♡ top!virgin!gerri fields x experienced!reader

genre: smut – (best) friends with benefits

wc: 2.3k+

summary: Your best friend was urged to lose her virginity, and as the good friend that you are, you offered to teach her how to do it the right way.

warnings: MINORS DNI +18, corruption (?), hot kisses, breast/nipple play, oral & fingering (r receiving), hickeys, r guiding/telling gerri what to do.

note: i think i remember seeing a prompt or something about this a long time ago and when i remembered about it i had to write it about gerri 😩 hope y’all like it <3

please do not translate, copy and paste, or repost my work anywhere. likes, comments, and re-blogs are always appreciated tho <33

Gerri was desperate.

It was almost her second year of university and she still hadn't lost her virginity, and even though you always told her that it didn’t matter, that it would happen when it had to happen, she disagreed with you and told you that you were biased because you had already lost it.

Unlike Gerri, you were lucky enough to have lost your virginity in high school, and thanks to that, you had a lot of experience up your sleeve, so it wasn't rare for you to sleep with a couple of people every other week, an activity that Gerri truly envied.

It was a Friday night, and since there were no parties or things to do that same day, Gerri and you decided to have a movie night. It was during the second film that a sex scene brought up the frequently discussed topic between the two of you.

“Ugh, a girl can only dream,” Gerri said in a sigh while chewing on a gummy worm.

If you were being honest with yourself, you would have to admit that Gerri was a very beautiful girl. Yes, you were both best friends, but that didn’t mean that you were blind. For several months now, listening to Gerri's desire to lose her virginity made you unable to help but think about what would happen if you took her virginity. Is she a top or a bottom? Is she a good kisser? How would her soft hands feel all over your body? Is she really as eager as she makes it seem? All those unanswered questions left you no choice but to suggest a very risky idea to her.

“You know, if you really wanna lose your virginity so badly then you should lose it with me, I mean, we're best friends and I have a lot of experience after all. It’d be a great opportunity for you to learn.” You offered in a joking tone, hoping that the girl would get the hint.

The moment the sentence left your mouth, Gerri's face turned to you at high speed, eyes wide and mouth half-open.

“Wait… Really?” She asked genuinely, biting the inner part of her cheek.

“Well yeah, that’s what best friends are for, am I right?” you asked, letting out an awkward chuckle, surprised at how quickly you managed to convince her. “I guess she truly is desperate,” you thought.

“Wha- well- sure,” she stuttered, “that’d be nice,” she said with a nervous but excited smile.

With that said, you took the initiative and grabbed the remote control to turn off the tv, then you removed all the snacks from the bed and started to play some background music to ease the tension that had formed between the two of you.

“So… where do we start?” She asked timidly, fidgeting with her fingers.

Once you noticed this, you gently grabbed her hands and caressed her knuckles with your thumbs, “you know we don’t have to do this right? I was only giving you the choice but if you changed your mind then that’s totally okay,” you reassured her, “we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

“No, no. I want to, I just don’t know what to do or where to start.” She confessed. “You’re the boss.” She said jokingly trying to ease the tension.

You chuckled. “Okay, then. We can always stop if you don’t feel comfortable though.” You said giving her a little squeeze on the hands. She replied with a nod.

Unbeknownst to you, Gerri shared in some way the feelings you felt for her. She thought you were gorgeous and had always wondered what it would feel like to be on top or underneath you. Often daydreaming about the two of you doing things that she knew would never happen — until now.

“I think we should start by kissing, don’t you think?” You asked, getting closer to her and trapping her between your body and the headboard.

Gerri couldn't wait for another instant and threw herself at you, pressing your lips together in a passionate kiss. You gasped in surprise at her urgency but quickly adjusted to the kiss, returning it with the same vigor. You slipped your arms around her neck and she wrapped hers around your waist, pressing you closer to her until your chest met hers. She sucked on your lower lip and caressed it sensually with her tongue asking for passage, and you granted it with no hesitation. While your tongues intertwined and rubbed against each other, Gerri began to slide her hands from your waist to your ass and gave it gentle, slow squeezes. You bit her lower lip in response, eliciting a throaty groan from her. Gerri couldn't hold back anymore, she needed to feel your warm pussy against her mouth right now, so she started unbuttoning your shorts.

You placed your hands on top of hers halting her movements and broke the kiss, your lips remaining a breath away from hers.

“I wanna make you feel good,” she whispered breathlessly, her hot breath brushing against your lips.

“I know, I can't wait.” You confessed and stared at her through low-lidded eyes. “But first, you have to get me all wet and ready, yeah?”

“Show me how.” She husked out, resting her hands on your thighs and giving them a little squeeze.

Still straddling her lap, you moved away from her face and grabbed the hem of your blouse, pulling it up your body seductively until it was completely off. When you saw Gerri's face, you couldn't help but smirk at the sight of her hypnotized eyes staring so intently at your breasts, which were being covered by a black lace bra. She gulped loudly and made eye contact with you.

“Can I touch them?” She asked hesitantly, darting her eyes between the two.

“Be my guest.” You responded with a smirk.

She slowly raised her hands, cheeks blushing as she cupped your covered breasts with them. She gave them a little squeeze and then proceeded to massage them more thoroughly. She crept one of her hands behind your back and brought your breasts close to her face, placing it directly against them. She nuzzled her nose against them before starting to give them open-mouthed kisses, nibbling and tugging at the edge of your bra. She slipped her hands under the bra and felt stiff nipples against her palm, eliciting a low grunt from her, which you felt vibrating against your chest.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you panted, feeling her smile between kisses. “Take my bra off,” you asked with urgency, tired of her slow teasing.

She did as you said and got rid of the garment. “Now play with them,” you husked, receiving a nod from her.

The moment her mouth closed on one of your nipples, your hand flew to the back of her hair, tugging at it softly. With her hands on your back pressing you impossibly closer, Gerri flicked her wet tongue over your exposed nub. “Y-yes– hng– just like that,” you slurred. Her tongue was so warm, pressing and circling desperately around your erect nipple, giving it soft nibbles. “Don’t forget about the other one,” you reminded her amidst groans. Attentive to your commands, she resumed stroking your opposite breast, gently pinching and tugging at your nipple with her fingers while savouring the other one with her mouth and tongue. You felt a wet patch growing on your panties.

Gerri held your waist tightly and nimbly flipped you under her, towering over you. She gave you a lingering look and then continued on with her previous endeavours, making you let out little whimpers.

“Can I eat your pussy now?” She said with your tit in her mouth, batting her eyelashes.

You whimpered softly at her bluntness, followed by a soft chuckle, finding her eagerness funny but arousing as well. “Patience,” you groaned. “Come here,” you muttered as you cupped her jaw with both hands and pulled her up to you, crushing your lips together in a smothering kiss. She kissed you back, open-mouthed and with fierce lips. “Mark my body,” you said breathlessly against her mouth, and with one last hungry suck on your lower lip, she released your lips and began to deposit hot kisses — and marks — on your body, working her way down from your neck to your chest, alternating between each sensitive breast, then reaching your sternum and eventually landing on your lower abdomen. “How am I doing?” she asked genuinely. You clutched her hair tightly in your hands as she continued to leave searing marks on your belly. “Good, mhm, s’good,” you slurred with your eyes closed.

Gerri began to run her tongue along the edge of your shorts, giving small kisses to your flesh as she began to fiddle with the hem of your shorts with her fingers. She shifted her attention up to your flushed face, asking for your consent. Once she saw you nodding your head with an encouraging smile, she began to undo the buttons and removed the garment completely.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, I wanna see you.” You said, making her realize that, in fact, she hadn’t yet taken off any of her clothes.

“Shit- of course, sorry,” she clumsily apologized while letting out an awkward chuckle, and quickly discarded all of her clothes. She carefully spread your legs apart and returned to her previous position while delicately stroking your thighs. Exhilarated shaky breaths left her lips as she stared intently at your dripping wet core, all she could think was "I did that."

You helplessly watched as her gaze wandered over your body, returning her gaze with the same fascination. “You can start now,” you said eagerly. “Patience, Y/n.” She responded with a cocky smile, making you roll your eyes at her.

She began to suck and kiss the skin on your legs, working her way up from your knees to your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your beating pussy.

“You know, I should start teaching you the most important lesson: don’t tease,” you joked breathlessly while putting your hands on her hair, trying to pull her closer to your core.

“But that’s no fun,” she said as she gave you a hickey an inch away from your cunt.

“Please, just st-”

You got interrupted by Gerri's warm tongue giving you a long and hard lick all the way from your throbbing hole to your swollen clit. “Oh — fuck!” you said between gasps, receiving a groan from her that vibrated against your nub deliciously. “Make circles around my clit,” you commanded and she nodded. Gerri began to swirl her tongue around your clitoris vigorously, working it at different speeds. Then, she began to experiment by grasping it between her lips and sucking on it, all the while pressing it with her tongue and giving it little nibbles. This made you let out a sharp whine, causing the girl to feel even more eager to please you, loving the sounds that left your lips. “Shit! So good,” you moaned.

As she continued to devour your pussy, she began to tease your throbbing hole with two of her digits, slowly running them through your soaked folds, spreading them open and collecting your juices on her fingers. Her other hand remained on your thigh, squeezing it harshly. “Please…” you begged, and with that, Gerri thrusted her wet fingers in your entrance. “You feel so good, Y/n.” She murmured against your clitoris, making you moan even harder. She started to move her fingers at a relentless pace while still playing shamelessly with your clit, groaning here and there so you could feel the vibrations against it. Her fingers kept reaching deeper and deeper into your cunt until she touched the spot she was looking for and started to curl her fingers desperately against it. Breathless groans left your lips as you pulled her face impossibly closer to your cunt, taking her hand from your thigh and putting it on one of your breasts so she could play with it. “You’re– fuck– you’re doin’ great Gerri,” you managed to choke out, rocking your hips unmercifully against her mouth and fingers. “Your pussy feels so tight and gummy around my fingers Y/n,” she husked while continuing to rub her fingertips against your g-spot.

Your body tensed up and you started to lose your rhythm, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten. “Fuckkk– ‘m close,” you slurred with difficulty. Despite the cramps she felt, Gerri began to move her fingers and tongue even faster, feeling your pussy clench around her fingers every few seconds.

You came violently the instant she sucked on your clitoris and stroked your g-spot in perfect synchronicity. ”S-slow down, slow down,” you managed to say, broken breaths and curses leaving your mouth as she helped you ride your high, moving slower just like you told her to.

She pulled out her drenched fingers and released your over-stimulated clit with a pop, licking her lips afterwards. You looked at her through hooded eyes as she licked all the cum off her fingers, “you taste really good,” she murmured, giving you a wink.

You gave her a soft playful slap on the head and motioned her to lay next to you.

“I must admit,” you cleared your throat, “you’re a pretty fast learner,” you husked breathlessly, letting out an airy chuckle.

“Well, who knows? Maybe one day the student will surpass the master,” she joked.

“We should do this more often,” you suggested a bit hesitant.

“Yeah, we totally should,” she replied, “and next time you better teach me how to be a bottom,” she said while raising her eyebrows and biting down a smile.

“You bet I will,” you replied, attempting to hide the excitement in your voice.

[dourpeep]

IT WAS 2AM WHEN I SENT THAT SO I HELD BACK MY SIMPING FOR COLLEGE ALBEDO A LITTLE. tried not to send all my brainrot so I didn't just send a wall of text into your inbox LOL. Some others I thought of were:

- Mona giving astrology forecasts and compatibility readings in this au and Albedo may have asked her about the two of you

- Going to botanical gardens or museums with Albedo but for some reason it feels like a date even when it didn't intent to be. You tug on his sleeve now and then when you see something he might be interested in or even when it's something that excites you, and Albedo can't help but have a soft look in his eyes that he can share this moment with you! Somehow it results in the two of you holding hands - just so neither of you stray from each other of course - and eventually, intertwined fingers. You hear someone say that the two of you seem like a cute couple and you know Albedo heard it too, but neither of you say anything. You feel his hand squeeze yours a little tighter and respond in kind. The two of you are too embarrassed to look at each other but can't help the smiles on your faces.

- Lending Albedo some of your favourite books for pleasure reading and you've left tiny tabs on lines that you like. Perhaps this is before Albedo realizes his feelings so when he reads particularly romantic lines, he wonders if this is how he feels about you. Or did you mark these pages because you feel this way about someone? His stomach is in knots to the thought that you may be intrested in someone that isn't him and he settles for it just being prose.

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS SO CUTE AAA. THANK YOU FOR SIMPING FOR COLLEGE BEDO WITH ME!!

Tugging his hand and not letting go omg . . . you tend to just intertwine pinkies or play with his fingers absent-mindedly that Albedo becomes so accustomed to it so he starts to offer you his hands without a second thought.

WAIT. I gasped at Albedo being a cuddler. He's a little delirious when he first wakes up but you're so comfy that he hugs you a little tighter, asking if you've slept well. You try to reply while worrying about whether or not he can feel your heart thrumming in your chest.

What if Klee is staying with Albedo one night and the three of you fall asleep cuddled up together. Alice comes back early in the morning before any of you are awake and takes a picture. She sends it to Albedo later and he sets it as his phone's wallpaper.

Albedo staring at your lips winded me, thank you.

YES TO THE SWEATERS. I bet Albedo would have the softest and coziest sweaters too! Imagine it being a little cold out and you see Albedo across campus so you bound over to him and give him a hug. You nuzzle into him and mumble out a little 'hello' and say he's warm. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest while he greets you back, wrapping his arms around you

And I LOVE ALL YOUR HEADCANONS! I believe I found your blog around the time you posted Albedo's snort headcanon and it was too much for my heart!! I held tight to that headcanon and never let go lol. I also thought the science + college headcanons you had of him were really nice despite not being necessarily romantic!

Side note: I looked up that lobster fact and that's so cool!!

The Lobster Fact(tm) is my go-to ice breaker and it always fails. I'd imagine it's normally the same w/ Bedo OTL so sad...not many wish to know about potential lobster immortality.

I'm glad that you love the headcanons though!! I enjoy writing for Albedo so so much as you can tell ehe

That being said--if it makes you more comfy to send stuff in a few bursts of asks, I don't mind :DD I'll answer them as usual nodnod

OKIE DOKIE

-

"...Mona, yes?"

"Ah, I was expecting you to come around sooner or later, Kreideprinz."

Really, Albedo didn't mean to stumble upon the Astronomy major, but for some reason the thought of you has been on his mind and the campus' observatory just so happened to be on the way. With the meager hope that...maybe he'd find some sort of answer (in what, he wasn't really sure himself), there she was.

Luckily, she knew just what he was there for.

The moment that she twirls her hand with a wave, telling him that there isn't anything to worry about, the apprehension creeping within his chest at the thought of seeing you next-

disappeared.

It's not often that he turns to less orthodox methods, but he wouldn't lie. Knowing that--at least in Mona's opinion (which tended to be correct, anyway)--the two of you were undoubtly compatible? Something about how your constellations were intertwined...

In fact, Albedo turns a little theory around in his mind. Though based in old folktales, the idea that you gravitate towards those who are made of the very same stardust as yourself, suddenly made sense.

Or, perhaps he was just being hopeful.

-

Little does he know that you most definitely asked Mona about the same thing earlier that day.

-

AHHHHH BUT OF COURSE-

Any of those kinds of places--Botanical Gardens, Art Museums, Aquariums, Zoos, Museums in general--Any place where you're able to utterly lose yourself in your surroundings and look around in awe, really, are your go-to date outing destination!

Usually, it's just the two of you, maybe with Sucrose or Timaeus if it's for a particular class, as well as the occasional Klee in tow whenever Alice is busy with work.

But in this case, fingers interlocked, it's just the two of you on a impromptu trip to the art museum downtown after seeing a promotional banner about a new exhibit. Once inside, you rush along, Albedo trailing close behind with a light squeeze of your hand. The large area used for temporary exhibits isn't far from the entrance, so it's not long until you skid to a stop.

All along the walls are incredibly detailed oil paintings, the thin layered strokes glistening in the light. Albedo takes a moment to whisper to you about how oil paint works.

Due to the thinness of the paint and it's transparency, light passes through every carefully placed stroke, allowing for a unique sort of depth that isn't achievable with other painting media. You smile, the artificial light of the art exhibit making your features glow and Albedo can't help but wonder if you are like those paintings.

So complex, so carefully created in an image perfected with time. Your eyes search his and you say his name and Albedo clears his throat when he realizes he's been staring.

"Do you like this one?"

Ah, you must've assumed he took a liking to this particular painting.

His eyes shift back to it, taking in the sight of the balance of color, the composition, then back to you. He only stares a second longer before nodding.

Whether or not you realize the view he likes is you is something that he dwells on as you both make your way to the next painting.

-

If you had a penny for every time that someone comments on the way you compliment each other, you'd probably be able to pay off your tuition for next semester.

Okay, perhaps not, but the idea still stands.

You're only just at the end of the art exhibit when the security guard wishes the two of you a lovely date. Something about how young love is something to be treasured, something about how the two of you already seem so natural and comfortable in each other's presence.

Before you can mumble out an explanation, Albedo just squeezes your hand, gentle as always, and smiles.

It's a compliment, right? For someone to see how close you are, even if you really are just friends, is a good thing.

Ignoring the warmth that spreads over your cheeks, you smile and turn your head away shyly. Squeezing his hand back, the thought of what it'd be like if you were together crosses your mind.

-

Just as you lend books to him, he lends books to you. Surprisingly, this time it just so happens to be a poetry book--something that you expressed interest in a week ago but ended up not getting.

Within, he's left colorful notes with his neat, slanted writing.

Short discussions (presumably questions to himself) of what the poet must've been thinking, different possible scenarios, are peppered throughout the book. But one just so happens to catch your eye. Rather than a question, it's a statement. Simple, short, and...sweet.

'You carry the aura of the stars.'

The little yellow sticky note pasted beneath a love poem to the night sky stands out. Suppressing a flutter in your chest, you continue reading through the poem book with a few giggles at Albedo's musings until you find a note with most of the words crossed out.

It's entirely unlike him, the way that the dark ink scribbled over the words, making them illegible.

But at the bottom was a continued attempt--one you presume he was satisfied with by the way it lay pristine on the colorful paper.

'You look. I fail to speak.

Your mind, so brilliant as it is I wish to see behind To further appreciate the one I love.

I can only hope one day you shall let me in, So for now I wait patiently by your side.'

Who could he have written this for? You can't help but stare at the poetic attempt, knowing full well that Albedo seldom does something without meaning.

The book closes and you tuck it back on the shelf to ask about later.

-

AAAAA YESYESYESYES I LOVE THAT CUDDLE PILE W/ ALBEDO AND KLEE

Even though Albedo's a grade A student and certified genius (he's adamant in his denial, shaking his head and mumbling about how he just studies hard), he's not entirely a stickler for rules.

Well, that is, Aunt Alice's suggestion that Klee goes to bed by 9.

Instead, the three of you settle in the common room of Albedo's place in a bundle of pillows and blankets at the demands of a pillow fort.

The tv blinks on accompanied by the near silent click of the remote.

"What should we watch?"

Klee always ends up picking the movie. This time, she wants Alice in Wonderland, commenting on how the bunny is like her best friend Dodoco and the blonde girl on screen is named after mommy. Albedo doesn't bother correcting her, even though he knows quite well that dear, sweet Dodoco is a chinchilla.

Between sips of juice and a few mouthfuls of popcorn, the three of you fall asleep, Klee curled up besides you and Albedo's arm draped over you both.

Even when the sun is up in the sky, you sleep peacefully.

So, naturally, Aunt Alice has a spare key just in case something like this happens.

Immediately she's met with the sweetest view--her two kids (she's practically adopted Albedo as her own at this point) and--

Hiding a cheeky smile behind her hand, Alice can't help but sneak a little closer when she spies the way that you and Albedo somehow gravitated closer, his face buried in your hair and yours resting against his collar. Wedged between you with tousled hair, Klee snoozes peacefully.

She snaps a picture, followed by another, and another, and a fourth for good measures before meandering into the kitchen to prep something for breakfast.

Might as well let her three favorite people enjoy the comfort of sleep for a little longer...

You wake up the moment that Klee wiggles her way out of the blankets, nuzzling against the warmth radiating under your cheek.

Nice and cozy. Smells nice...wait.

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with a familiar birthmark and the nearly gone scent of Albedo's cologne.

You nearly pull away until the arm, now wrapped around your waist, pulls you closer accompanied by a satisfied sigh. Ah. You shut your eyes tight when you realize that Albedo's going to be asleep for at least another thirty minutes, resigning to your fate gladly.

Of course, Alice takes the opportunity to snap a few more pictures when you've finally fallen back asleep.

-

YES ALSO ALSO

Speaking of Albedo and sweaters and warm and also the just mentioned cologne. A little fun tidbit--not only are you familiar with the scent of his cologne because he wears it often, but it (in this au) is actually one that you picked out some time back. You probably were at the store together smelling some of the perfumes when you came across one that you were pleasantly surprised by.

Specifically, something that's lightly floral, a little warm but sweet with a hint of earthiness.

The pros? It fits Albedo perfectly! It also kinda sticks well and his place faintly smells of it.

The cons?? Well...you're embarrassed to say that hugging Albedo tends to drag on a little longer than anticipated because it's just such a comforting scent-

Not because you associate it with Albedo or anything-

Ehe

Man I really went to town again, didn't I?? Well, I'm glad that you enjoy my headcanons :DDD Albedo just seems like such a sweet person??? Like endearing in a way that just is...him. If that makes sense.

Brain go brrrrrr

I'll admit that my favorite headcanons for Bedo are mundane and domestic ones though! Like these! Just the little moments where there's nothing really going on except for him and you and ahhhh yesyesyes

Okay that's all-

[emma-frxst]

Pool Party

pairing: Colossus x reader

summary: @master-sass-blast requested “PIOTR SEEING READER IN SWIMSUIT FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!” 

A/N- thanks for requesting sass! I had a lot of fun writing this one. tag list open, reblogs appreicated!

-

Your sunglasses rested delicately on your nose as you sipped your drink and fell into deep relaxation. Music played and your friends chatted in the background as everyone gathered by the pool at the X- mansion.

Your co- workers thought it would be nice to throw a girls-only back to school pool party before all the students moved in for the year. And you, 3 margaritas deep, couldn’t agree more. It felt good be back at the X mansion after a few months of summer break. You missed your friends, and one handsome metal man whom you’ve had your eye on for a while now. Speaking of the handsome metal man, the music was suddenly overpowered by the sounds of a lawnmower. Piotr. He was responsible for some of the the upkeep of the mansion grounds over the summer months. “Ugh..Fucking Piotr and his yard work, god.” Lex commented, going to turn up the speaker.

“Yeah I wish I was” you said.

“You wish you were what? god?”

“No, I wish I was fucking Piotr.”

Laughter roared from you and your friends. “Hey seriously though, don’t be so salty about Piotr gardening and doing lawn work, I don’t see you volunteering, Lex.” You joked, you liked to give your best friend a hard time.

“Couldn’t be me… Hey don’t we have someone who’s power is to literally control plants? So they could do the yard work much more easily?”

“Yeah, that’s professor Stewart who’s still away for the summer, but Piotr likes to do it, he was a farmer back home.”

“So you’ve got yourself a farm boy, y/n?” Lex teased.

“No. Not yet anyways.” You replied, taking a sip of your drink.

“You should go for it. I think he likes you.”

“Really?” You questioned.

A chorus of yeses sounded from the girls.

“Alright I didn’t know everyone was in on this.”

“Of course we are.” Storm interjected, winking at you.

“You don’t think it’d be weird since we’re co-workers?”

“I think it’ll be fine.” Lex said, nudging you.

You pondered the possibility for a moment.

“I’m getting in the pool.” You stated, pushing those thoughts away for now.

.

Piotr had his headphones on jamming out while doing yard work. Listening to none other than Neil Diamond; his favorite.

It was hot out. Piotr didn’t sweat when he was in metal form, but if he did he would be sweaty.

A brilliant idea struck him.

The pool.

He finished mowing and headed that way, eager to feel the cool water on his skin. He unlatched the side gate and stopped dead in his tracks- finding everyone looking at him.

He slowly took off his headphones, becoming a bit timid.

“Oh. I’m sorry ladies. I…..” 

his mind went blank upon seeing you. Gorgeous you- In a swimsuit nonetheless. Piotr was first and foremost a gentleman, but the way your swimsuit hugged you just right made him weak. His heart began racing and a lump formed in his throat. He was thankful he was in defense mode, otherwise he would probably be as red as a tomato.

“Um… “ Piotr swallowed thickly. “I-I didn’t realize there was anyone on campus. I’ll come back another time. I didn’t meant to intrude.” He said, secretly hoping someone (you), would ask him to stay.

“No, Piotr it’s ok, you can stay.” Storm butted in, “you’ve been working hard, come cool off a second.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned.

“Of course.” Storm replied and not so subtly gave you the look.

After giving everyone polite greetings, Piotr approached the edge of the pool.

“Hello y/n” He said, a big smile crossing his features.

“Hey Piotr! Come on in, the waters fine!”

He happily obliged.

After a few minutes of small talk, you heard a voice in your head that wasn’t yours.

‘Flirt with him, y/n!’

Wha-? Jean? Get outta my thoughts please.

You turned and shot her a look. To which she only smiled a sly, little smile.

The few seconds your head was turned, you could feel Piotr’s eyes on you- and not in a gross, creepy way. In a way that gave you goosebumps- the good kind. “Well, I should get back to working, I have crashed your party long enough.”

“You know you can crash the party anytime, Piotr. You’re my favorite party crasher.” You said in a poor attempt to flirt with him.

You were positive the girls would tease you for it later.

But hey, At least your comment got a smile out of him.

“Da, being the favorite is all that matters.” He said with a chuckle.

“Don’t party too hard without me.” He instructed while getting out of the pool, the water rolling off his shiny, muscular  body like water off a duck’s back.

“I won’t, but only since you asked so nicely.” You teased, earning another smile from the metal man.

“Thank you again for letting me stay ladies, have fun.” He politely waved at everyone. “See you y/n.”

“See ya! Don’t work too hard!” As soon as Colossus shut the gate he thought of you. Then thought of you in that swimsuit; it sent a shiver up his spine. god, you were gorgeous.

He absentmindedly reached for his headphones- that weren’t there.

Shit.

He left them at the pool.

you kicked yourself for not making a move, no time ever felt ‘right.’

‘There’s always next time’ you told yourself.

But then out of the corner of your eye, you saw Piotr’s headphones. He had left them on the table.

You quickly grabbed them and took off after him.

“I’ll be right back!” You shouted to the girls.

You flung open the side gate nearly hitting Piotr.

“Oh- Piotr I’m sorry, I was trying to catch up with you, you forgot these.” You held out the headphones.

“Da. Thank you very much y/n.”

“No problem.” Your reply cheerful as ever.

You both looked down at the ground awkwardly. Silence lingered. “Um..y/n?”

“Yes Piotr?”

He suddenly was nervous; fidgeting with his headphones.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime? With me?”

Your heart rate skyrocketed and your cheeks flushed with heat.

“I’d like that very much.”

-

Tags: (tag list of open, send me an ask if you want to be tagged, removed or only tagged for certain characters.) @chromecutie @xenomorphique @evelyn120700 @nightriver99 @iamwarrenspeace @this-that-and-every-thing-else @hsk-puma @bungeewabbit @pianomad @lesbianstarkx @hazilyimagine-blog  @super-darkcloudstudent @thehuntress26 @siren-lamented-vampire @mooleche @rovvboat @leo-writer @dandyqueen @nitemaremotionless @thewintersoldierswife

[ladybugout-au]

Marinette placed the final box of baked goods on the stack, pulling up the strings she'd set underneath them so she could tie everything together. "Alright! That should do it!" She put her hands on her hips, looking proud of herself, though faltered as she realized, "Oh, but what if there aren't enough options? What if they have an allergy?"

"That was everything your parents could part with," Tikki reminded her.

Marinette whined. "I know. They're kind of leftovers too, but I didn't want to just swoop in as Ladybug and go hey, I have some new heroes I'm meeting, do you mind if I buy some of your baked goods for them because I know they would've insisted that I take a bunch of the fresh stuff for free." Rubbing the back of her head, she gave a one-armed shrug. "It was just easier to ask for anything that was still good but they didn't want to sell exactly."

"I guess so," Tikki hummed, though it was obvious that she didn't really get it. Marinette supposed that a kwami couldn't really understand the value of money and briefly imagined Tikki with a tiny purse of coins.

Shaking her head of any amusement that brought, she walked over to her mirror, feeling her face and checking the tightness of her pigtails holders. "Tikki, how's my hair look?"

"Won't your hair just go back to perfectly-brushed pigtails when you transform anyway?" Tikki asked.

Marinette supposed she was right. Thanks to her transformation, many a Parisian had been saved from seeing their hero sporting a bedhead during early morning akuma battles.

"...Alright," she decided, carefully undoing her hair ties and fluffing up her hair. "In that case, hair down it is."

Tikki blinked, flying over to ask, "What do you mean?"

Marinette glanced at her in the mirror. "Because then I can at least feel like I'm doing my hair up for it! I have to look nice!"

A tilt of the head was her response. "It's not that I'm not happy that you're taking this so seriously, but why the fuss?"

Gasping, almost in offense, Marinette replied, "I have to make a good first impression! I'm Ladybug, and they need to know that I appreciate them being here!"

"Marinette," Tikki said steadily, waving her arms out to gesture at her. "They already know Ladybug. I'm sure—"

"But not like this!" Marinette retorted, standing straight and raising a finger as she made her point. "I want them to feel welcome and like they can come to me for advice on fighting or keeping their identities a secret!" She hesitated, then dropped her gaze to the ground and added nervously, "I-I mean, I know I might not the best at those, but I can still try, right?"

Tikki moved immediately in front of Marinette's face, using her tiny paws to raise her chin up. Flying a small distance away, she assured, "You're a great Ladybug! I'm sure they'll appreciate you no matter what happens!"

Marinette smiled at that, at least feeling a little more mentally prepared to face the new heroes now. "Thanks, Tikki." She turned, facing the boxes of baked goods again and readying herself. She stepped towards them, paused, then scratched her cheek sheepishly as she asked, "But seriously though, do you think these will be enough?"

"Marinette!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going! Let's go!"

——-

Ladybug could feel Chat Noir following her only five minutes after she'd left the house, though was aware that it wouldn't exactly be hard to see her - despite the extra black she'd added to her bodysuit at the start of her blog - with all the boxes she was carrying. That was fine with her, as she'd needed him to be nearby anyway; they were still partners, after all.

As she landed on the rooftop she'd agreed to meet everyone at, she heard Chat Noir landing behind her. He announced his presence with an amused, "Setting up a picnic, m'lady?"

She raised a brow at him. "You could say that. The new heroes should be arriving in—" She pulled out her yoyo to check the time, realizing just how long she'd spent fretting over her first impression. "—uh, soon. Very, very soon."

At least she still got there first, she figured.

"New heroes?" Chat inquired, his flirtatious tone disappearing. "I didn't know they'd be here tonight."

"I messaged you before I left," she pointed out, purposefully leaving out the detail of the kwami group chat. She idly wondered if Plagg could be bribed into sending her flirty messages from Chat.

"I saw," he insisted with a bow, "which is why I hurried to you so you could tell me what it was about in person!"

She had no comment on that, too busy setting the boxes out and checking to make sure the baked goods hadn't been jostled on her way there. Chat Noir sat down next to her, helping himself to one of the sweets and not making any comment about the bakery logo on the box, probably as they'd saved said bakery quite a few times, so it wouldn't be weird to know it enough to buy from there.

The moment her yoyo confirmed that it was time for the other heroes to show up, Ladybug heard the sound of someone landing on the rooftop. She glanced up, seeing the bee hero standing there with an air of professionalism hovering around her.

"Ladybug. Chat Noir," she greeted formally, giving them each a nod.

Ladybug stood up with a start when she realized that she was still sitting near the boxes. "Hello!" She walked over, extending a hand out to her. "Glad you could make it."

The bee hero gave her a nod, accepting the offer for a handshake. "Of course. This is my job after all. It would have reflected poorly on me if I hadn't shown up on time."

Ladybug beamed. She was far different from the "original" bee hero, but that wasn't a bad thing, and she was looking forward to seeing what it'd be like to have another serious person on the team.

The turtle hero then landed nearby, though Chat Noir was too preoccupied with approaching the bee heroine, even taking her hand in his despite her flat expression. She tried to shake his hand like she did with Ladybug, only to realize that apparently wasn't his intent.

"I guess we'll beekeeping you on the team for a while now?" Chat asked. "It'll be a pleasure working with you."

He bent down, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. She pulled away from it, raising a brow at him while Chat stilled and looked confused.

"Uh—" the turtle hero cut in, finally earning Chat's attention. Ladybug watched as the turtle hero seem to fidget in place before pointing at the hand kiss display that had just occurred. Tentatively, he asked, "He's not going to do that with everyone, right? I'm—I'm dating someone."

Chat's face turned red with embarrassment, his body immediately recoiling from the bee heroine. Ladybug covered her mouth with both hands in an attempt to hide her chuckle, though it was difficult.

She waited until she was calm to approach the turtle hero, offering her hand for her second handshake of the day. "Glad you could make it."

He smiled, happily shaking her hand with a simple reply of, "Thanks." Then, glancing over her head, he asked, "Are you a new hero too?"

She presumed he was talking to the bee until she turned around, jumping in surprise as she noticed the fox hero standing nearby. She hadn't even heard him land, but supposed it made sense for a fox.

"Hey," he greeted casually. "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt when you were talking to everyone else."

"O-oh, it's okay!" she assured, hoping it wasn't too embarrassing that she'd been caught off guard. She approached, sharing her last handshake with him. "And now that everyone's here, we can get introductions out of the way! You're...?"

"Cadmeancio," he replied with a calm smile. "I hope I'll be able to help you, Ladybug."

She smiled back, then glanced to the turtle hero. "And you?"

He stood proud, both arms up like he was flexing despite his sheepish expression. "Heavy Matal."

Ladybug turned to the bee heroine, who understandably predicted the question and answered before she could get it out, "Fukiya."

"Alright, so Fukiya—" Ladybug pointed at her, then the other two heroes as she continued, "—Heavy Matal, and Cadmeancio."

The three nodded at her. She couldn't help feeling a tinge of excitement; she had new team members now, and they were permanent holders that she wouldn't have to go out of her way to give miraculouses to.

Sitting down on the rooftop, she gestured to all of the boxes and exclaimed, "I brought these, so help yourselves! I can give you the rundown while we eat."

Cadmeancio and Heavy Matal happily sat nearby, letting out a harmonious, "thank you," as they peered into the individual boxes to look for a treat. Fukiya was the only one who remained rigidly in place, hands resting at her sides even as she looked around at the assorted boxes.

"Fukiya?" Ladybug called, earning her attention. "Everything okay?"

"Ah—" Fukiya let out a neutral hum. "I'm not really... allowed to indulge in..."

Chat waved a croissant from his seat besides Ladybug. "You've got superhero status now! You don't have to worry about anyone else or what they'll—"

Ladybug cut him off by clearing her throat, facing Fukiya to clarify, "What Chat means is... obviously we have to maintain our secret identities, but you can still be yourself around us, and you don't have to worry about anything you've been forced to do or not do when you're not transformed."

She offered what she hoped was a welcoming smile. She was worried at first, given how Fukiya looked at her like they were in a staring contest, but she relented quickly enough, sitting down and searching for the perfect treat amongst her options.

Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief, then slid herself back just enough that all of the new teammates were in view. Clapping her hands together to earn everyone's attention, she began, "I imagine your kwami filled you in on most of the details, but just to make sure everyone's on the same page..."

Cadmeancio and Heavy Matal shifted to face her, Fukiya already having been in the right position.

Ladybug continued, "With LadyBugOut in place and Hawk Moth seeing us as even more of a threat, you three are here to be new, permanent heroes to help cover any weak points we might have." She gestured vaguely at them. "That said, you don't have to show up to ever single battle; if you can show up, show up, but don't worry if you're in the middle of something. I want all of you to warm up to having miraculouses instead of being forced to get used to them right away."

"Isn't it serious?" Fukiya asked, arms crossed. "We should be prepared for anything."

"We have time," Ladybug assured confidently, "and forcing anything to happen won't get us the results we want." She would know. "So just... take it slow, okay?"

Fukiya looked like she wanted to argue, but closed her eyes and let out a breath, apparently thinking better of it.

"Should we come anyway if you need us?" Heavy Matal questioned with a tilt of his head, though his voice was hesitant as if he wasn't sure if he should suggest such a thing.

Ladybug, however, was happy for the question and gave him a grin. "Oh, if you can? Definitely, and as long as you're on the blog, you'll get notified of any akuma!"

He nodded his head, understanding the exception, then went back to munching on one of the sweets he'd picked up. Given that his and Fukiya's curiosity was satiated, Ladybug glanced at Cadmeancio, almost expecting him to have questions as well.

When he seemed more interested in the box the sweets were in, staring strangely fondly at the logo, she called out with interest, "Cadmeancio?"

He looked up at her, waving a hand dismissively. "Sorry. I've—" He paused, and she appreciated his attempt to choose his words carefully. "—I've been to this bakery a few times. It's really good."

"Oh." She eyed the box again, her gaze locking to the three little wrapped-up containers she'd placed in the middle of one box in particular. She perked up, internally thanking Cadmeancio for the transition. "That reminds me—well, sort of..."

She pulled each container out by the ribbon she'd wrapped around them, each with a distinct color that matched the new heroes. Once she had all three held against her chest, she began passing them out to each hero, each of them taking them with care and setting them on their lap.

"These—" Ladybug gestured at the boxes. "—are power-ups, and they—"

Suddenly, Chat choked off to the side, covering his mouth as he forced himself to swallow. Ladybug looked over at him blinked, concerned, but he was recovered quickly enough, standing up and taking her arm.

"Bugaboo, can we have an original-heroes-only meeting?" he asked quickly, though the nickname didn't make it sound any nicer.

"Uh, sure?" She let him take her as far away from the three heroes as possible, waiting until they were out of earshot to whisper, "What is it?"

"Those—" He still seemed stunned by something. "—those are the power-ups? They're getting them?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I don't see the—" She paused, remembering the day that they'd first gotten their powers. "—wait, you're not jealous, are you?"

"Why are they getting them right away?" he asked, completely evading the question. "Master Fu—"

Ladybug held a hand up to silence him. "They don't know about Master Fu, for the record, and it was Master Fu's idea to give it to them. I don't know, it's just..." She shrugged for lack of an answer. "He must trust them?"

"That—that doesn't make sense," he said. "Aren't you curious?"

"No," she replied bluntly. When Chat looked struck by it, she continued, "It's none of my business. I trust Master Fu and I trust who he chose."

"But—!"

"Besides, those power-ups aren't just about when we need them for fighting akuma." She hesitated, needing to take a breath before getting into any serious topics. "Chat, we can't do everything ourselves, and five is better than two in this case. Those power-ups could do a lot of good and we might not be around where they could be good. I've had a lot of close calls since I started helping outside of akuma, and stopping that helicopter from crashing into a building would've been a lot less stressful with the power of flight. We don't even know if another Frozer could show up again, and then the others would be out of luck. Then, there's the possibility of another Syren, or an akuma fleeing into the sewers, and we got Frozer and Syren the day we learned that Hawk Moth had the peacock working for him!"

"So you're worried about Hawk Moth striking back, but you still want them to take it easy?" Chat argued.

"Yes, because I want to give them the warm-up time that we never got. That led to a lot of mistakes, and I—" She stopped, noting that she wasn't comfortable divulging so much information to Chat about how her experience went. "...I just want time for the new teammates to ease into battle and get to know us naturally."

He looked put off by that. "Isn't our relationship natural?"

She forced her mouth shut for a few seconds, not wanting to say anything she'd regret. The fact that he was asking in the first place said a lot about their differences.

Then, finally, she sighed and gave a shrug. "Not completely, no."

He gaped.

"Chat, we got forced together by every single akuma that came our way. We didn't choose to work together, we just had to, and I don't want our new teammates to see us the same way! Superheroing is a job, but teamwork means that we have to care about each other as partners, and I want to ease into that."

She only just refrained from mentioning that her relationship with him had been strained for a while now because of the requirement of working together, knowing it would only cause more arguing. The fact that she and Chat had needed to work together from the beginning made everything go too fast, and she couldn't believe it took so long for her to realize it.

"...Look," she said before Chat could cut in, her voice lower at the realization that she might've been too loud earlier, "I know you were upset that I knew Master Fu when you didn't, but that wasn't my choice. He didn't want to tell anyone about his existence in the first place. We got blindsided by Mayura and we've almost lost our miraculouses multiple times, so it'd be nice to have more heroes who have the power to help if we need them—"

"We don't need anyone else," Chat insists, holding her hands in her. "Remember, m'lady? You and me against the world."

She didn't indulge him this time, pulling her hands away to raise them in defense. "I'm sorry, Chat. That's—that's not how it works. I don't want to be in a situation like that again."

"Where we have dozens of akuma against us, or where it's just down to you and me?" he challenged.

She took a breath, giving him a once-over as she gauged his body language. Shaking her head, she took a step back, not meeting his eyes as she replied, "Both."

She turned away before she could see any hint of his reaction. As far as she was concerned, the situation wasn't about her and Chat; it was about Paris and doing whatever they could to protect it.

She'd been initially apprehensive to return to the new heroes, fearing that the obvious hushed argument made her look bad, but her new teammates were simply waiting where they were before, their looks non-judgmental and the containers in their laps open to the contents, as if they'd all synchronized the motion while she'd been preoccupied.

She smiled, hope replacing nervousness as she went to sit down with them. She was tempted to eat a treat or too, but resisted, opting to pull out her yoyo so she could reach inside and retrieve her box of potion-infused macarons for the sake of instructing them on the powers.

Before she could, she felt a warmth near her shoulder and turned her head to see Cadmeancio, offering her a concerned look while his hand hovered over her shoulder. Though she wondered how obvious her feelings really were, she wordlessly gave him permission and he let his hand drop, giving her shoulder a small squeeze.

She felt good about this. This team could really work.

Chat Noir was thankfully too busy inhaling a slice of cake to notice the gesture. Ladybug didn't know if seeing such things made him antsy, but she preferred not to find out.

Focusing on the little box in her hands, she pulled out a green macaron and began, "Okay, so green is for water..."

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 2

photo credits - @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, language 

summary - You and Aaron reunite, but it’s not exactly anything to celebrate over. The case moves forward, but you really wish it hadn’t like this.  

a/n - no one is allowed to call me out on my lack of LA/california geographical knowledge. ive also started including readers mental thought train which is italicized (flashbacks will also be in italics, but ill always properly mark a flashback). if you arent tagged but asked, just send another ask/reply! i mustve missed it on accident.

blog rules 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

chapter 1 // chapter 3

-----

Chapter 2 

Aaron Hotchner was standing in front of you. Impeccable, not even a slight crease in his shoes and suit pressed to perfection. He still smelled faintly like cedar, a thought you quickly tried to send away; it was too late though, already remembering how pitiful it was post breakup, when you would smell the shirts he left at your house, a desperate attempt to remember that he existed in your life. You’d spent hours, days even, thinking about how you’d react if you were ever to see Aaron in person again. At the top of the list was screaming at him, really giving him a piece of your mind for leaving the way he did. Or, maybe you’d be cool and composed, the epitome of maturity and ‘I’m Totally Over You’. You’d even considered completely ignoring him, not even giving him a second glance. Instead you were frozen to the spot, staring up at the man who broke your heart. 

Pulling your eyes away from him, they darted towards the gap between his body and outside, internally debating if you’d be able to somehow sneak around him. As if he could read your mind, not like you had been particularly subtle, he moved to close the gap before you had the chance to fully formulate an escape. 

“Y/N,” he tried again, voice a bit firmer this time around. It’d be better if he couldn’t speak. But then again he had such a beautiful voice-. No, you mentally clamped down on that thought before it could lead you down another rabbit hole. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Tell you, uh, what?” You asked, hyper aware of how mousy you must’ve sounded.

“That someone was murdering women that looked like you. You should’ve called my team sooner, it was irresponsible to put yourself at further risk of-” 

“Are you trying to imply that this is somehow my fault, Agent Hotchner?” The words felt bitter on your tongue. It wasn’t like you, to suddenly be so quick to anger. Years in the spotlight had taught you to hold your tongue, but Aaron’s words managed to cut right through. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know that-,” he tried to interject, but you weren’t going to back down so easy. 

“I know what Agent? Please, tell me the acceptable response to this situation,” you spat out at him, finding a brief enjoyment in the way his face scrunched up ever so slightly. “The police were working on the case, I’ve dealt with weirdos before.” Aaron opened his mouth again as if to speak, but you weren’t finished, “You really think I believed you’d answer if I called?” 

His face fell at that and you felt some form of internal victory swell in your chest. Y/N 1 point, Aaron Hotchner 0. The victory was short lived though, as you came to the realization that the two of you were still in a very public setting. 

“I’m not going to fight with you Agent, I suggest you get back to your team.” With that you shoved your way past him, stomping the entire way to your car. It was a shame, the way the anger and sadness was consuming you, maybe if it hadn’t, this time you would’ve noticed the clicking coming from the tree line. 

----

Hotch wished you had been angry; it would’ve been easier to handle you if you had been screaming in his face or throwing low-blow comments his way. He could deal with anger. It’d be easier if he could pretend that you were being completely out of line and could warrant being ignored for the rest of the case. 

That wasn’t you though, and he knew this. He didn’t have to be a profiler to see and hear the way you struggled to hold yourself together. He didn’t need to be a profiler to feel how disappointed you were with him. Hotch didn’t know how to deal with this or you.  Even though it had been months, had he truly fallen so far from your graces; was your opinion so lowly of him now? 

Hotch wasn’t sure which was worse to stomach, the fact that you had such little faith in him or the deep rooted feeling in his gut that told him you were right- had you called him unannounced two months ago, he wouldn’t have picked up the phone. 

----

You sat in your car for twenty minutes, at least. It was pitiful, the way you were crying in your car, to a sad playlist, over a guy who hurt your feelings; it felt like high school all over again. In the moment, you had felt good, the way you watched Aaron’s face twist and fall at your words giving you some sick form of satisfaction. 

It’s not like you had lied to him or anything. You hadn’t even stretched the truth for ultimate impact. The whole overly formal ‘Agent’ thing was definitely on purpose though. No, you had meant every word you said to Aaron, especially about not believing he’d answer if you called. What would you have even said if you called and he did pick up? Hi Aaron, remember me? Good, anyway hope you’re doing well but I think I have a murderous stalker, can you help? Actually, that’s probably exactly how the conversation would’ve gone, but that’s beside the point. 

The point was that even if you could trust the Unit Chief of the BAU to do his job, you weren’t sure you could trust Aaron Hotchner anymore. 

----

When you finally did muster up the courage to return to the conference room, you really wished you hadn’t. You should’ve just turned your car on and left. Was it possible to ghost the FBI? You’d heard enough stories from Aaron about how their tech wizard had found people with just a single loose thread, there was definitely no way you were going to make some spy like disappearance. 

Aaron wasn’t in the room, something you were grateful for in the moment. But what you weren’t grateful for was how the team had managed to set up multiple bulletin boards in your absence; filled with your photo, crime scene photos, the dead women and your personal least favorite, the dead women’s bodies. 

Of course, you knew what was going on, you were a big girl, well old enough to understand and process the gravity of the situation. But you’d only seen photos of the women alive, with personality and humanity; something about that made them look less like you and more like them. Looking at them now- dead, eyes closed, faces tilted away from the camera- these women didn’t just look like you, they were you. 

You hadn’t even realized you were drifting closer to one of the boards until you felt a hand pull at the crook of your elbow. Turning your head ever so slightly you saw JJ, giving you one of her nice looks again. 

“Y/N, you don’t need to see these,” JJ started, already pulling you in the opposite direction. You were about to agree, head already halfway to a full nod when you noticed something from the corner of your eye. 

“Wait!” You exclaimed, pulling your arm back and getting right in front of a photo of victim #2. You very gently pulled the photo of the wall and held it closely in front of your face. Were you allowed to move it? Oh well. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes burning holes through your back so you turned to face them. “I, um, I’m pretty sure the sweater she’s wearing is mine.” You said, voice coming out as a whisper. 

The team certainly seemed to liven up at that statement. Even though they hadn’t even been in LA for a full 24 hours yet, it was obvious from the start that LAPD hadn’t been lacking on the case, rather the unsub was just that good. They reported no evidence from any dump sites,- and now those sites had been contaminated far too much to double check- there had been no witnesses for any of the abductions, and the unsub hadn’t attempted any contact with Y/N; all in all, they had nothing. 

“Y/N, are you sure?” Emily asked, she was quickly pulling photos of the other three women down, bringing them over to the roundtable. “Are the women in these photos wearing anything else you recognize?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure. There’s a little hole right there, on the side, the threads were pretty loose and I got stuck on a doorknob once, ripped it right open. I couldn’t find it when I went to fix it, just assumed I threw it away and forgot.” You said quietly, moving your way to the table. Your brain wasn’t working properly, hadn’t quite yet come to the conclusion that the rest of the agents already reached. He had gotten into your house. “Oh my god.” You whispered, voice shaking. “He was in my house, wasn’t he?” 

The agents all looked down at you with sympathetic gazes before Emily finally spoke up again. “We can’t be sure just yet, but I need you to look at these photos and tell me if you recognize anything else okay? Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, making your way over to the table and taking a seat. You were well aware one of the agents just called for Hotch, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. 

----

“Hotch,” Derek said, his voice urgent as he rounded the corner, interrupting whatever conversation Hotch was having with a random officer, “Y/N recognized the sweater victim #2 was wearing at the dumpsite as hers. Emily’s showing her the rest of the photos and it’s looking like the unsub left something of hers on each one.” 

That certainly got Hotch’s attention. He didn’t need Derek to fill in the blank, the unsub had been in your house. His fists tightened at his side and he couldn’t help the way his face twisted in anger. In this state, Derek knew better than to question this unusually personal reaction, instead just angling his body back towards the conference room. He didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Hotch brushed past him, making his way back to you. 

----

Starting with a photo of victim #1, you very slowly pulled it closer in front of you. Oh my god, her neck. Obviously, you’ve seen bruises before, been on a whole bunch of film sets that used makeup to create some pretty gory pieces, but nothing like this. The unsub didn’t just stangle these women, it was like he wanted to completely crush their throats. 

One of the agents behind you was questioning your ability to stomach this, so you quickly forced yourself to focus. It was the least you could do for these poor women, just give them your undivided attention for ten minutes, and then you could deal with everything else later.

Your finger traced over the bracelet victim #1 was wearing. “This is mine. There’s a singular heart engraved on the back of the third diamond’s plating. I bought it for myself after I got cast in my first big role, cried for weeks when I ‘lost’ it.” 

“And what about this one?” Emily asked, gently pulling victim #1’s photo away from you and replacing it with #4. You didn’t miss the way she turned the photos you’d already looked at upside down, as if to further shield you from them. Nor did you miss that she was technically skipping victim #3. 

It didn’t take you long to notice what was yours on victim #4. “It’s the dress, it’s really comfy, I used to wear it a lot, like a lot a lot. I brought it with me so often on trips I just assumed it got left in a hotel room somewhere.” 

Emily nodded, taking back that photo and turning it over as well. You could see her hesitation in showing you victim #3, but she slid it across the table to you as well. Her fingertips ghosting on the edge of the photo, ready to pull it back as soon as you gave an answer.

Victim #3 was tough. She looked the most like you, both when she was alive and certainly the way she looked now. 

You took a sharp intake of breath as you looked down at her the first thing that caught your eye was the necklace. Most certainly yours and most certainly the one that Aaron had given you for your three year anniversary. You realized it was lost a few months after the breakup and nearly tore your house apart looking for it; you didn’t have many things from your relationship with Aaron to prove he was once part of your life, making the few things you did have all the more important. “The necklace, there’s an A engraved on the back and I’m pretty sure those shoes are mine too.” Emily swept the photo back and out of view as soon as the last words left your lips. 

“JJ, get those items out of evidence immediately so we can be absolutely sure,” Hotch ordered. Aaron. You hadn’t even realized he had walked into the room, you turned to look at him, eyes wide with sadness and fear. The tears that were beginning to form tugged viciously on his heart.  “Miss L/N, my team and I are going to escort you back to your home and we’re going to need to canvas it for signs of entry and identify if anything else is missing. Is that okay?” He asked, his voice soft with something most of the members couldn’t place. 

You simply nodded at that, glad that you wouldn’t have to be alone, “Do you need my address, or will you just follow my car?” There was definitely humor in that, Aaron already knew exactly where you lived and the code to get through the gates. 

“Your address is already in our files, but for your safety we’ll be following close behind.” He assured you. The rest of the team was jumping into action, grabbing their personal belongings along with copious amounts of gloves and bags you assumed would be for potential evidence. 

As you all exited the building and entered your respective vehicles, it was Reid who realized where he’d heard that softness in Hotch’s voice before. It was the same tone he used to use with Hayley, back when things were good. 

----

Your house wasn’t far and it was a drive you knew well; grateful for the ability to somewhat distract yourself on the road. The gatesman to your development gave you a real odd look when you told him the two black SUV’s filled with FBI agents were with you, but you couldn’t care less about which neighbor he might spread that info too. Did you see? L/N brought in the FBI, wonder what she’s caught up in. At least all the neighbors and workers had signed airtight NDAs, no one was allowed to talk to any outsiders about the personal happenings of their fellow residents. 

Your house was towards the top of the hill, with a great overlook to the ocean. You had only been 20 when you bought the house and you viewed it as the ultimate achievement of all your hard work and determination. You couldn't shake the bad taste in your mouth as you pulled up the driveway. The house felt tainted now, something you were never sure you’d be able to shake. 

----

Once again, not exactly how you imagined the entire team entering your house for the first time. Your house was extensive, as were the grounds; the team quickly realized they would probably be here for the rest of the day and well into the night.

You were standing awkwardly in the middle of your foyer, unsure of how to exactly approach this situation. “So, there’s about 10 rooms in the house, not including the kitchen and general living spaces, as well with the basement which is technically one big room. I made maps once as a joke, I think I have some in the office, if you wanted those? Or we could do one big house tour and you can break off that way,” you were so rambling, but them being in your house and why they were in your house was setting in, “or you can just go off however you want-” 

“Miss L/N,” JJ said, there was that nice look again, “why don’t you show me around the house so I can get a base level understanding of everything there is. The rest of my team will go start a basic canvas of the inside and the grounds as well.” Thank you JJ. 

You nodded at this, glad that someone else was taking control of the situation. Before you could lead JJ towards the kitchen, your phone started to ring, startling you. When did you get this skittish? 

“My friend is calling,” you said, holding up your phone, “I gotta take this, I was supposed to meet him for coffee a few minutes ago.” You excused yourself, quickly making your way to an empty room away from the rest of the team. Your friend was annoyed at your more than last minute cancellation, but luckily he didn’t pry too hard and accepted your flimsy “I’m not feeling too well’ excuse on the first go. 

“I know, I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll make it up to you as soon as I feel better. Yeah, I love you too. I gotta go, bye.” As you hung up, you could feel a gaze burning into the back of your head. Turning around, you found Aaron staring down at you from the doorway. How long had he been there? 

“You should have told us about your boyfriend sooner. Trying to protect him from questioning will only-”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you exclaimed, a bit too hurriedly, “I, uh, I’m not seeing anyone at all actually, haven’t in a while.” Smooth. 

Aaron was smart enough to read through the lines and understand what you had left unsaid. His gaze didn’t give up, but you could’ve swore you saw relief somewhere in his eyes. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to say something, or if he was supposed to say something, or should you walk out, or- 

“Neither have I.” Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts, but just as quickly as he said it, he turned on his heel and left you alone in the room.

----

a/n - if anyone is wondering ive 100% cried multiple times at how kind and supportive everyone has been with me about this story. we’re only 2 chapters in but im already sad for it to end. yes i 100% have a bunch of other wip ideas for hotch. anywaaaaaaay, replies/asks/comments/reblogs/likes always appreciated! thank you so much for reading 

Taglist: @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

[flowerpowell]

The Royal Holiday Romance (Liam x MC)

EPILOGUE

A/N: Ahhh the last chapter and the last peek into Victoria’s and Liam’s lives! I was supposed to finish this series before Christmas but... better late than never, huh? I hope you’ll enjoy the epilogue!

Rating: G

Tagging: @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @twinkleallnight @lodberg @sfb123 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @iaminlovewithtrr​ @kingliam-rys​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @gkittylove99​ @shanzay44​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ ❣

“Li, you sure you don’t wanna come?”

Liam nodded, assuring his friends once again that he made up his mind and wasn’t going to change it.

Maxwell sighed. “As you wish. You’re gonna regret it though. I even wore my squid suit! The one that made Hana fall for me.”

“Hana never fell for you, Maxwell.” Drake rolled his eyes. “She just said it was a nice suit.”

“Whatever. She invited us to that party after all!”

Liam looked absentmindedly at his friends. Hana and the rest of the crew finished filming a week ago and they celebrated it with a big wrap-up party. She invited him and his friends but Liam didn’t feel like coming. Mostly because he still felt bad for almost firing Victoria from said movie. But also because she wasn’t going to be there. There was no point for him to go.

When Drake and Maxwell left, Liam went into his bedroom and opened his laptop.

It was almost four months since he saw and talked to Victoria. She went home right before Christmas and it was already March. To say he missed her every day, was an understatement.

Not much changed for him; Liam kept himself busy with work and all his duties. He knew Maxwell and Drake were worried about him but he kept telling them he was okay.

He allowed himself moments of weakness only in the night. He would google Victoria’s name and read what she had been up to. After leaving Cordonia, she set up her own blog and started her film critic career online. Maybe because of the scandal but mostly because she was very talented, she soon found a big audience and started being invited to different events, premieres and interviews. Liam was very proud of her and very happy for her. But reading all of that, made him miss her even more. The fact that she didn’t want to come to the wrap-up party, as well as the Cordonian premiere in a few months, was a clear proof she wasn’t thinking about him the way he thought about her.

Liam sighed as he saw an article titled: Victoria Brooks refuses to attend the premiere of ‘Cordonian Christmas’ in the light of the scandal.

Even though he explained everything what happened, he still was guilty of causing the scandal. He wasn’t surprised she didn’t want to come to Cordonia after all that happened. And he wasn’t surprised she didn’t want to keep in touch with him.

It was all his fault.

~~~~

“Greetings from the wrap-up partyyyyy”

Victoria looked at the picture Hana just sent her. She and Maxwell seemed to have a lot of fun. Victoria even spotted Drake sipping on his drink. No sight of Liam, though.

Not like she would expect him to be there. Hana had told her that Liam avoided leaving the palace since… she left Cordonia.

Victoria blamed the scandal and all that negative attention that Liam got afterwards for his antisocial behavior but Hana straightforwardly told her that it was because he tried to get over her.

She wasn’t sure what to think about it. Were his feeling actually genuine? It wasn’t just a game? Was a King really… into her?

“Don’t go there,” Victoria warned herself. What happened, happened. It’d been almost four months since they spoke last. High time to move on.

So why did Victoria feel like there was something missing?

~~~~

Liam was playing with his phone after checking his emails. He looked at his drafts folder and sighed seeing at lest fifty different emails he wrote to Victoria. Wrote but never sent.

He wondered if she thought about him. Even if just for a second.

“If she did, it would be pretty negative thoughts, I’m sure.” He thought to himself and put his phone away. It was pointless. No matter how bad he wanted to forget about Victoria, he couldn’t.

He still felt just as in love with her as he was four months ago.

~~~~

Victoria was playing with her phone after reading comments under her newest blog post. She checked her emails but nothing new came.

What was she waiting for, though? For an email from Liam?

“He closed that chapter. You should, too,” she thought to herself as she put her phone away. It was pointless. No matter how bad she wanted to move on, she couldn’t.

For some reason, the butterflies she felt when thinking about Liam didn’t die even after those four months.

~~~~

“It’s so nice to see you, Liam.” Hana smiled and greeted the King. He nodded and shook her hand.

“Likewise. I’ve heard the wrap-up party was a success.”

“It was… nice. We missed you,” she said and Liam could almost hear that silent and Victoria too but he didn’t say anything. It was his fault she couldn’t even come here.

“Maybe you could talk to him, Hana. He said he won’t come to the premiere!” Maxwell chipped in and Liam rolled his eyes. Hana’s face softened.

“You really should. I mean, I’ll understand if you don’t but it’d be nice to see you there.”

“I’ll think about it,” he promised. When Maxwell and Drake entered the throne room, Liam followed suit but Hana stopped him, gently grabbing his arm.

“Can we talk? Alone?” She added.

“Is something wrong?” His mind immediately wandered to Victoria. Did something happen to her?

“No… No. But… I wanted talk to you about Tori, if I may.” She started and Liam’s heart began to race. He nodded.

“I don’t approve of how you treated her with your lies and dishonesty. And I don’t blame Victoria for being upset with you and wanting to leave. But… I also know you regret it. And I know that you didn’t want to deceive her. Listen, Liam. I’ve known you for many years now and I know you’re a good person. We all make mistakes. And you… already redeemed yours. And I think Tori would agree.”

“I am really sorry for what I have done. Truly. If I could turn back time—” Liam started. Why was Hana bringing it up now?

“I wasn’t trying to make you apologize for something you’ve already apologized for. I’m just trying to ask… why did you give up on Victoria?”

Liam was taken aback. He gave up on her?

“I don’t think I understand… I didn’t give up on her… She left!”

“Yes, but that was four months ago. Even very stubborn people like Tori soften in that time.”

“What… are you getting at?” He was confused and Hana shook her head.

“I’m saying… if you really like her, which I see you do, you should’ve fought for her. She forgave you a long time ago and she misses you just as much.”

“She told you that?”

“She didn’t have to. I hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes every time we talk. Just like I see you still love her in yours.”

Liam stared at Hana. “You… think… I should—”

Hana chuckled. “When Cinderella left Prince Charming in the palace after the ball, he didn’t just accepted his fate and tried to move on. He started looking for her and fought for their future. Because he truly loved her.”

“And Cinderella’s two sisters lost their feet in the process,” he added absentmindedly.

“I see Tori educated you too on original fairytales?”

“Yes.” he smiled. Victoria had a bigger impact on his life than he even thought.

“Then why don’t you just go for her, huh? She doesn’t have any sisters so don’t worry about that part. Call her, message her. Fight for her! I’m sure she’s waiting for it, too…”

~~~~

Liam stared at the ceiling, rewinding the conversation he had with Hana earlier that day. If Victoria really forgave him and was waiting for his sign…

Hana told him he should call or message her but Liam wasn’t sure it was a good idea. When it came to Victoria Brooks, he wanted to make it right.

And he could only hope it wasn’t too late.

~~~~

Victoria hit enter and her newest post appeared at the top of the blog. She quickly turned off her computer and decided to go for a walk. It was her routine. After posting something, she was too scared to wait for people’s reactions so she always went for a walk.

“What you’re up to?”

Victoria marveled at the message Hana sent her. It wasn’t the fact that Hana messaged her because the two women kept in touch, but it was four in the morning in Cordonia and Tori wondered why Hana was up.

“Just went for a walk. Wbu?” She typed and the answer came right away.

“Where?”

Victoria frowned. What was going on with Hana?

“That little forest a few minutes away from my apartment. Why are you asking?”

“Nevermind, enjoy your walk!”

Now Victoria was concerned. She tried to call Hana but her phone was turned off. Or she simply didn’t want to answer her calls.

She was walking in the forest, trying to call Hana from time to time but without success.

“Fine! Be mysterious!” She yelled at her phone after tenth time Hana didn’t pick up.

“Is that what actresses do? Talk to themselves?”

Victoria turned so abruptly that Liam had to catch her. Her eyes widened at the sight of Liam, King Liam, in a little forest in her hometown.

“What—what are you doing?” she asked, still in shock.

“You visited Cordonian forests and I wanted to visit American,” he replied calmly.

“Ha ha. No one ever comes here. And how did you—” she narrowed her eyes. “Hana.”

“Don’t be angry with her. I wanted to make sure I’d meet you. Poor Hana, I had to wake her up in the middle of the night.”

“Why are you here?” She asked, her heart and mind racing. She couldn’t believe he was here. Here in America. Here, for her.

“To see you. To talk to you. To tell you how much I miss you. Victoria, I—I missed you so much. I never felt this way for anyone else. And I am so sorry it took me months before I finally came here to tell you that. I wanted to call you every single day. I’m still…” he paused for a moment. “I’m still very much in love with you.”

“Liam…” she felt her eyes started to water. “I missed you, too. And I’m sorry for what I said to you before I left.”

“No, you were right. I made a mistake. And I promise to never lie to you again. What was between us… was real. And I want that. If you’re still interested.”

Victoria swallowed hard and felt tears running down her cheeks. “I’m still interested.”

Liam smiled and extended his hand. “Hello. My name is Liam and I am the King of a small European country, Cordonia. I love Baklava and I’ve recently started reading Grimm’s fairytales. I still think they’re actually thrillers. In my free time, I like to go for walks. Four months ago, I fell deeply in love with the most amazing woman. And you?”

She laughed. “I’m Victoria and I’m a movie critic. I have my own blog. I used to be an actress but it wasn’t for me. I’ve never had Baklava but it sounds delicious. I consider Grimm’s fairytales better than their Disney’s adaptations. I once traveled to Cordonia and fell in love with their King. Nice to meet you.”

Liam’s face lit up and she threw her hands around his neck. She didn’t know how they would make it work, what it would look like dating a King, what the people would say but she didn’t care.

For the first time in her life, she felt like the main character in her own fairytale.

---------------END----------------

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

Hi kitty! Congrats on 100+ followers!✨🎉 I'm new to your blog and i really like your writing💗 it's so cute🥺💞 if the event is still open, could i please ask for number 3 with dazai and 🌹? I'm sorry if i asked and you're no longer doing these!👉🏻👈🏻 either way, thank you so much! Happy holidays✨❤ take care and stay safe pls!🌸

Hi there! Thank you so much for all the compliments, I really appreciate it. I’ve been seeing you a lot in my notes and the compliments that you replied have made my heart fill with joy. Hmm, well the event is closed, however, I’ll make an exception since you asked so nicely. I really appreciate all the comments, it means a lot. So here, I hope you like this, forgive me for any mistakes or if it doesn’t make sense because it’s 2:50 here and I am really tired but this is my last request so I’m gonna finish this.

🎄 Merry Christmas 🎄

______________________ 

3. making them dinner without them asking

Bungo Stray Dogs, Dazai Osamu x reader

100 Followers event

______________________

It had been a busy day at work for you and you were just too tired to do anything, and just collapsed on the bed once you reached your’s and Dazai’s shared apartment. He would finish later than you, so you decided at least half and hour worth of sleep wouldn’t hurt.

______________________

Your eyes snapped open when you heard something fall in the kitchen, ‘Was Dazai home already? He’s only supposed to be here at 6...’ you thought to yourself in your head. ‘It’s...7! 7!’ you yelled in your head after checking your phone and got up in a flash as you threw the covers off you.

You basically sped into the kitchen only to find Dazai at the stove seeming as if he was almost done with what he was doing, “Belladonna! You’re finally up! I was starting to worry about you, you seemed very tired. Are you okay?” he asked turning around. 

He was cooking...he was actually cooking. And he hasn’t set the kitchen on fire yet, though, you thought it’d be best not to jinx it. “...Dazai, when did you get home?” you asked as he grinned. “The normal time I usually do, 6.” he said turning back around to cook.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I’d only be asleep for half an hour at most and...” “Don’t worry about it Belladonna! Here, I’ve tried making dinner for you!” he said turning around and grinning whilst bringing the frying pan onto the table, showcasing his masterpiece. 

It didn’t look like a masterpiece but later on, you’d learn that it tasted like one. You blinked and then smiled at him, “Thank you Dazai.” “No need to thank me.” he said as he comes towards you for a hug, his arms already open and ready. You smiled as you returned it, placing your head on his chest.

Opening your eyes, you smelt a little burning scent in the air and looked towards the side of Dazai, “...Dazai! Put the stove off! You’ll burn the kitchen down like how you almost did last time!” you warn him.

He turned around and went to quickly put the stove off as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Correction! The stove almost burnt the kitchen!” You giggled and smiled. Oh how he loved it whenever you did so, it made him feel as if he did something right for once in his life. 

______________________

Notes: I hope that this is okay and thank you for requesting! Have a good day/night and take care of yourself.

[stillness-in-green]

I'm not really active in the MHA fandom or blog- but I agree a lot with your points on OH. To be fair though- I don't think weekly schedule in itself facilitate great writing imo b/c Mangaka's don't have the time to revise their drafts (they get usually max 6 hours of time to work on each page- everything from name to final touch ups- monthly authors get up to 2 days for each page), there's literally not enough time to think, reread or to adjust things. But I think Hori's reaching a point where it's not sustainable for him to keep at the pace he started MHA with. So he's cutting corners to move the plot faster- but compressed plotlines will come with executional pitfalls. That's just the limits of the medium when you don't have a dedicated writer/ don't have everything pre-planned. It's getting more apparant now, because we're in the final arc- and people are expecting pay offs to start happening. And in considering that the 'conversation' deku and OH had was supposed to be payoff on OH's character thread? It's a lotta waffling imo. I'm over it at this point- because If Hori is actually doing this because it's for his own health- then I'd rather he do that. regardless of whether I like his story or not- it's still his story- so the priority imo is so long as he's happy with his work- that's what should matter more. It doesn't mean it's above critque, or that we should all like it, not at all, ones reactions are one's own, and genuine in their emotions. There's nothing wrong with expressing such on ones own blog, and tagging it in the fanom. Critiques ultimately for those of us doing so, is moreso for ourselves, either those who want to work on creating our own IP, or just want some benchmarks to keep in mind in reading future stories and anticipating what actually appeals to one's own tastes. I just want to make a shoutout of all of that, cause I can tell some of the people reblogging your OH post don't get it at all and are too busy in the "I'm right, you're wrong mindset"- which is-realistically speaking nothing new when it comes to internet fandoms- but still missing the point of what you were saying. Unfortunatly- Tumblr's reply function is pretty much ass when it comes to anything of length on an actual post though. So hope you don't mind the rando tldr from a passer by.

Heya anon, I definitely don't mind the passer-by message. You're right about Hori's ridiculous work schedule. I complained during the war arc about all the breaks, but now I definitely wish he would take a few more than he has been. Not just for the story's sake, but also for his own--it's been AGES since he had one, it seems like. And in fairness, I can hardly expect him to make the time to do a bunch of research on e.g. the detrimental psychological impact of solitary confinement on his schedule.

In truth, the rant was mostly to get it off my chest. Normally, I save my most annoyed complaining for Discord, but sometimes when it feels like no one else is saying the things I want to see said (about Deku's motivations there, about the PLF arrests, about the MLA's views on quirk supremacy, etc), my motivation overflows.

Ultimately, I've been making my peace with the idea of jettisoning canon pretty much since Chapter 240 dropped and featured a Re-Destro whose characterization I liked considerably less than Chapter 239's Re-Destro,* so the idea of writing off the canon after a certain point and just writing the fic I want to write is something I'm very prepared to do.

Still, it'd be nice to be happy with the canon itself, and I really am hoping to be! There's so much good and interesting stuff going on in the series, really challenging material, and like many others, I hope that this arc is about really pushing Hero Society and its defenders to the breaking point so that they can see that the system they have does have to change--just to pick the obvious example, I don't want to see Hawks proven right that a system that could produce him and Lady Nagant is worth salvaging just because Deku is a good person.

Thanks for the message, anon! I grew out of the phase of being bothered by people who willfully miss my point or read me in bad faith many, many fandoms ago, so I'm not too concerned with the people in the comments doing that--I've gotten some very thoughtful responses and much more traction than I'd been expecting, so I'm glad the rant reached some like-feeling people! Here's to hoping Horikoshi gets some rest, and we all can find satisfaction in the story he's working so hard to bring us.

(*Regarding 239 vs. 240's Re-Destro, while I have my problems with how the MLA is being treated in general, the canon has given me more good RD material. I will probably never be over him calling Shigaraki "savior and liberator" and getting indignant about Shigaraki's safety GOOD SHIT GOOD SHIT. Also Clone!RD talking about the relief of only having to present one face to the world and wistfully reflecting on his group's sought-after Liberation as he falls into nothing I am still shook.)

[ohdaim]

april fool's day oneshot

hi guys, i wrote this today in one sitting, and it's lazily edited:) i'm recovering from an oral surgery and on strong medication, so i hope this makes as much sense as i think it does.

Ship: Ignis Scientia/female reader Summary: You are a Citadel valet working the night shift, frequently attending to Ignis' car. You have no idea how to talk to him. He has no idea how to ask for your number. Words: 1849 idk if this is considered fluff or just mutual pining but with like,, idiots

__

Stir together bread crumbs, garlic, parsley…

You scanned the rest of the newest recipe on your favorite cooking blog, Feeding The Fussy. As always, it looked delicious. As always, you rated it five stars and typed out a comment.

I followed the recipe exactly, but I left out the bread crumbs and cheese. I used shrimp and bacon grease instead. Terrible recipe. Won’t make again.

Putting your phone away, you came to attention when someone stepped out of a Citadel elevator across the lobby. You worked night shift as a palace valet and hardly saw anyone but for a few regular night owls. One of them approached now, and gods, you were nervous all of a sudden.

Ignis was your favorite regular. He was polite, tipped well, and made small talk so you wouldn't have to. You didn’t know what he did in the Citadel or why he so often left at four in the morning. You just knew you had a big crush on him and, for that reason, could never carry a full conversation without getting sweaty palms.

“Good morning.” He greeted you first. “Quiet night?”

You nodded, entering the info you needed to check his vehicle out of the system. You wanted to say something, anything. Nerves got the best of you, and you excused yourself into the back room to get his car keys. On your way out, you held them up. “I’ll have your car here momentarily.”

Ignis didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at you. His attention was on his phone, a corner of his mouth curled upward.

You paused, taking in the smirk with shy curiosity. That was a new look. What was he smirking at? When he seemed to remember himself, he schooled the look and met your eyes. Startling, you repeated yourself quietly and went through the doors leading to the parking garage.

Ignis’ car consistently smelled like coffee wrapped in leather. Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you buckled in. Because you wanted to linger in the nice scent--was this extremely weird? Yes, of course--you checked to see what the buzzing was about.

An email. You’d gotten a reply from the Feeding The Fussy chef. They’d liked your comments in the past but hadn’t addressed your obvious jokes. You stared at the subject line for a beat, then opened the message.

Thank you for the review. Almost as insightful as last week’s eight hundred word description of your current diet and how my recipes conflict. Do you have any suggestions on how to improve this one?

Your nervousness grew so heavy, it burst in bright red over your face, a flame in your chest. The chef was talking to you. You’d chalked it up to luck that they understood your sense of humor and the intent of your comments. Never had you thought they’d give more than a like. You typed a response before getting back to work.

Pro tip: Using a microwave is faster than the oven. Also, I’ve begun a new diet (details to follow), so is there any way to make this recipe without the ingredients?

Ignis’ car was fancy but less so than most others in the garage. You always felt a pinch of regret when pulling it up to the lobby entrance. Driving a car like his just to see how fast it could go, it wasn’t something you’d ever get to do. You didn’t own one yourself, and truthfully, you'd only gotten a driving license to be qualified for this job. Getting out, you waved at Ignis and extended an arm toward the open driver’s seat.

Tip passing from his hand to your own, you bowed and tucked the money into a pocket. He thanked you, getting into his car. You waited for him to drive away, likely the last person you’d see this shift.

“Ah, pardon me,” Ignis startled you by climbing back out, the car door hanging open. He held something out to you. “I believe you dropped this.”

You looked at your phone in his hand, your eyes wide, nervousness becoming embarrassment. Quickly grabbing it, you bowed again. “Sorry.”

Ignis chuckled. “It’s quite alright. Good thing I noticed when I did.”

Nodding emphatically, you wished he’d just go before you humiliated yourself further.

Clearly not reading your mind, he lingered a moment longer. “In truth, I--”

“Have a good day, sir.” You didn’t mean to interrupt him and hadn’t expected him to say more.

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Same to you.” Thanking you again, by name this time, he left.

Back in the quiet lobby, you put his tip with the rest you’d made that night. You sat behind the desk and buried your face in your hands. The sting of feeling stupid in front of Ignis was abated by the underlying excitement that came from talking to the chef you admired.

They specialized in meals for picky eaters, which you were. They used clear directions, so they could be followed by an amateur chef, which you really were. They sometimes added personal anecdotes spiced with sarcasm and dry jokes to the recipe’s background, which made you feel safe to comment. You refrained from checking your inbox, content to wait until you were home to see if they’d replied yet.

Two attendants arrived for the day shift, and as you hitched the strap of your bag over a shoulder, readying to leave, one of them told you to wait.

“You should pick up a new nametag before your next shift.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you remembered you’d lost yours several days ago. “Oh, right. I will.”

You stepped into an elevator, pressing the button for the metro station level. New nametag. Dumb. You had your work badge but still required a tag. How else would the Citadel inhabitants know who to thank for fetching their expensive cars? You rolled your eyes at the thought, already annoyed. You’d have to come to work early to pick it up. Was it too soon to quit and attend culinary school? You needed to make a bit more money first. Ignis tipped large bills, but still, it’d take years of picking his car up every morning before you could afford tuition.

Grinning to yourself, you weaved through the incoming morning crowds and boarded a train home. It had felt nice, hearing Ignis say your name on his way out. He was the only person who ever addressed you, so maybe getting a new tag was worth it for that alone. Ignis was just-- He truly-- You really liked when he came down, that was all.

It didn’t strike you for another several hours, as you filled out the online request for a new Citadel employee nametag, that Ignis must’ve remembered your name. You supposed a great memory was probably just another part of his polite demeanor. That’s what you told yourself, at least, to keep your crush from growing. You didn’t even know the man.

You attempted the chef’s latest recipe, and as it cooled, you--very casually and not nervously at all--checked to see if they’d replied.

I’ll keep that tip in mind. As for your question, I recommend the following replacement recipe: brew a cup of coffee or tea, sit somewhere comfortable, and enjoy the beverage knowing your comments haunt me whenever I cook.

You read and reread the message, then laughed into a hand. Worth the wait. You ate a bite directly from the dish on your counter, huffing through the fresh heat with mild regret. They deserved a genuine review after such honesty, but it seemed you were doing little more than burning the roof of your mouth. So you took a picture of the food, offering a thumbs up with one hand in frame, and sent it as a reply.

The next night you worked, Ignis arrived much earlier than expected--before midnight, no less. He was coming in rather than going out. Another man was with him, someone blonde and unfamiliar. Ignis opened the back to retrieve something, turning you down when you offered to get it for him. The blonde man, his smile sincere but awkward, complimented your shoes.

“Thanks.” You didn’t really know what to say. People chatting with you was uncommon.

“They match your uniform’s tie… thing.” The blonde man was red in the face. Someone needed to tell him he didn’t have to make small talk. You were just a valet. He persisted, his smile broad. “It’s nice, y’know. You’re, like, coordinated and stuff.”

“Prompto.” Ignis closed the back and proffered a piece of luggage toward the other man. “Leave her be.” When the man took the bag from him, Ignis gave you the car keys. “I apologize for my friend. He can’t contain himself around beautiful women. Add inebriation, and he’s a lost cause.”

You gripped the keys tightly, taking in everything with a slow nod. Yes, of course, right. All of that made sense. Ignis was bringing a drunk friend into the palace. Normal Ignis stuff.

“Do you think Cor’s gonna be mad at me?” the blonde asked Ignis, walking backwards from the car toward the lobby doors. “Iggy, what if Cor gets mad at me?”

Ignis rolled his eyes, a hand checking his inner jacket. “A tad late to worry about that. Go directly to the barracks and try to sleep it off.”

“Where are the barracks again?”

Ignis’ chest broadened with a sigh, and he left the guy hanging. Withdrawing a money clip, he held it out to you. “For your trouble.”

You hesitated taking it. The outer bill appeared to be 1,000 yen, and it was several notes thick… More than the usual tip. You took it slowly, fingertips brushing his leather covered palm, and murmured a quiet thanks.

Ignis remained, his hand lifting to brush loose strands of hair out of his face. He wasn’t as put together as you were used to. Your eyes trailed downward, now noticing the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Huh.

He cleared his throat and began, “There’s something I--”

“C’mon, Iggy!” The blonde man held one of the entrance doors wide open. “If I knew Cor was gonna be mad anyway, I would’ve stayed at Noct’s.”

Ignis gave you a hasty farewell, already walking away to push the blonde man through the door. They disappeared inside, leaving an awkward wake of silence. You settled into Ignis’ coffee-and-leather scented car, a realization hitting you late, as they tended to do. Had Ignis implied you were beautiful? You didn’t entertain the thought for long. Ignis was a professional, royal something-or-other. He would never. You were reading too much into it. Surely.

On the walk from Ignis’ parking spot back to the lobby, you checked for the latest message from the chef. You’d boldly given them your number in a DM when the comment thread became unbearably long. You hadn’t held out hope of receiving a message and read their initial text at least ten times in disbelief before responding and saving the number.

Was this a new friendship? You hoped so.

[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Sharon who encouraged me to start this blog and helps me with my writing. @Sharon I kept my promise hehe.

MASTERLIST

PREV | WFH 1 - THE TRUCE | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106 @kasandrafaye @veggytaled @svtbitch @stinkyobeymerat @hollypastl @differentballooncollection @o51oc @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper​ @kaisemieita @rizamendoza808 @tomo-uwu @sugardaddykenma​

~

You tossed Atsumu’s sweater into the washer with your other juice covered clothes and made your way to your bedroom. You picked up your phone to text your mom.

Lovely Daughter:

I think I need to take a break from these dates

You still wanted to find a boyfriend and flex on your cousin, but this blind dating thing wasn’t exactly working out. You cringed remembering that your favorite cream shorts might be ruined for good. Taking a step back seemed like a good choice for now. Maybe you’d spontaneously run into someone worth your time. Blonde hair and a cheeky smirk flashed in your mind.

Huh. What was that? You shook your head. That was definitely not happening.

As you finished sending the message you got another notification.

Boss:

Reminder that our team is working from home this week while they replace the carpets in the office. Can you send me the updated prototype of your project by Friday morning?

Ugh. Working from home was bad news for you. Despite being an overachiever, your home was a safe oasis that was completely separated from your work life. When it came to trying to work while your favorite blanket and TV were 2 feet away, you had no self-control. You tried to look on the bright side. Who knows? Maybe this is the week you learned a little self-control.

~

Onigiri Miya. Thursday 6:27 PM

It wasn’t.

You had plenty of inspiration on Monday but took a break to watch one episode of your favorite sports anime and ended up binging the next two seasons. Tuesday you’d pulled up the files you needed to work on but you saw a manga spoiler while browsing Instagram and decided to binge the manga too. Yesterday you were shook about the most recent cliffhanger and got carried away reading fan fiction. It wasn’t until 5 PM that you realized that the prototype was due in a day but by then you were already fucked.

Cut to you grinding like crazy for the past 24 hours. You’d pulled an all-nighter last night except for 20 minutes at 5 in the morning when you crashed and knocked out on your keyboard. When you woke up there was an imprint of the spacebar on your chin. Finally you had most of the prototype completed, so you were crawling out of your cave for some food.

Sweats, glasses, hair messily pulled away from your face. You haggardly stumbled toward the restaurant. You’d exhausted your instant noodle supplies and had been so focused on finishing the damn prototype that you didn’t stop to eat today. You were pretty sure you were going to pass out if you didn’t get some food in your body ASAP.

You pushed the door to the restaurant open.

“Welcom- woah [Y/N]…you doing okay?”, Osamu paused mid rice ball roll and looked you up and down.

“Holy shit ya look like a zombie!”, Atsumu exclaimed from his usual seat at the bar.

You ignored Atsumu’s comment. You had no energy left for making snarky comebacks. “Osamu. Three Minced tuna onigiri and an iced Calpico please and thank you.”

“Sure…”, Osamu gave you a concerned look before turning to get started on your order.

You dumped your things onto an open table and sunk into the seat. You flipped open the laptop that you’d brought with you and started tapping on the keys. There was a big fat error alert on the screen. Great. You tried to edit the file. Another error. Ugh you were so close it was frustrating. You typed a few more edits in. Success! Loading…

Finally. You leaned back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. You heard some familiar footsteps approaching you. Here he comes.

On cue, Atsumu slid into the seat across from you. “Yo what happened?”

“I’m an idiot. That’s what happened.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples. Your head was aching from staring at the screen for so long.

He snorted. “I know a lotta idiots but you aren’t one of them” He peeked over at your screen. “What’s with the laptop? This isn’t a coffeeshop sweetheart”

“Work.” You bluntly replied. You scrunched up your face. Sure his voice was smooth as ever, but right now anything but complete silence was making your head pound.

“You’re in a good mood aintcha?” He smirked. You glowered in his direction, your dark circles making you look extra ominous.

“Stop irritating my customers ‘Tsumu” Osamu smoothly shut Atsumu down. He placed a tray of food on the table. “I got three minced tuna onigiri and an iced Calpico”

“Bring me a drink too ‘Samu”

“Get it yourself ’Tsumu”

An upbeat ringtone started playing from Osamu’s pocket. He pulled his phone out and took the call. “Hey babe…I’m just at the restaurant…no, it’s not that busy…wait…what!” Osamu raised his eyebrows.”…Okay yeah I’ll be right there.” He turned to Atsumu. “‘Tsumu close the restaurant. I need to go help Sharon”

“Huh? Ya can’t just-“, Atsumu tried to protest, but Osamu took his Onigiri Miya hat off and shoved it on Atsumu’s head. Osamu scrawled a note about closing early and taped it to the door on his way out. Atsumu stood there looking irritated as he watched his brother run off through the window.

He turned to you. “Well ya heard him. You’re gonna hafta take your rice balls and work home sweetheart”

Wait. You checked your screen. 15%. Rip. Starting the process while you ate dinner probably wasn’t the best idea, but you needed this to finish loading and couldn’t risk it getting messed up on the trip back up to your apartment. You turned to Atsumu, “I’m sorry about earlier. Please let me stay a little longer. I really need this thing to finish loading”

“No way”

“It’ll only take a second” You pleaded with him. He turned to walk away. “Please. Atsumu”

He paused. Wait, was that the first time you’d called him by his real name? He turned back to you with that devious smile he got whenever he had one of his “brilliant” ideas.

“How ‘bout this? You help me clean, I’ll letcha stay here even though I really should be closing up”

“Deal”

~

Onigiri Miya. 45 Minutes Later.

“I’m pretty sure when we made our deal you said it would take ‘just a second’”. The bashful smile from earlier had long been wiped off his face replaced with the current impatient scowl. You’d finished eating your onigiri shortly after Osamu left, and you two had been sitting at the same table sipping Calpico and watching the loading bar for the last 45 minutes.

“It’s really almost done now.” You were running out of excuses to stall for time.

“Hurry it up. I got things to do sweetheart”, he said and took a noisy sip of his drink.

Okay [y/n] we need to think of a way to stall. You went through your options. Hm. Actually, complimenting people usually works pretty well, especially when that person has as big of an ego as this blondie. Okay you decided on your plan of attack.

“Hey” You smiled innocently at Atsumu. “Thanks again for waiting with me. You’re a lot nicer than I thought”

“How many times do I hafta tell ya that that creepy smile isn’t fooling me?” Atsumu set his drink back on the table. “And was that supposta be a compliment? When did I ever do anythin’ to piss you off?” He leaned back, crossing his arms.

“Says the guy who crashed not one but two of my dates”

“I didn’t do nothin’”

“You were the reason the strawberry juice was on the table to begin with”

“I’m also the reason why you’re still here even though I could’ve kicked you out an hour ago.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“Touche” You leaned forward. “How about we call a truce then.” You held out your hand.

He looked at your hand skeptically. “Truce? That implies we were fightin’ in the first place”

“You gonna take it or not?”, You smiled slyly and waved your hand. “Let me tell you now. I’m not someone you want as an enemy”

“Jeez that’s pretty scary sweetheart.” He leaned forward with his trademark cheeky grin…and was he blushing a bit? “Fine. Truce.” He reached out to shake your hand.

“I know the perfect way to celebrate” He said, rising from his seat. He walked behind the counter and rustled around in the fridge. You heard him mutter, “Where did ‘Samu put it”, as he continued digging around. “Aha. Here it is!”, he declared, finding whatever he was looking for. Atsumu walked back and plopped down in his seat, setting two cups of pudding on the table.

“Haha. Nice.” You picked up one of the pudding cups but noticed a little note stuck to it. “Huh. What’s this?” You pulled off the note to read it. Osamu’s pudding: DO NOT EAT. “Wait a second we can’t-“

Atsumu took the container out of your hands, broke the seal on the cover, and handed it back.

“Atsumu!”, you exclaimed.

“You’re welcome.” He opened his pudding cup and shoveled a spoonful in his mouth. “Mmm”

Well it’s not like you could put it back now that it was opened. You scooped a spoonful into your mouth. Your face lit up. Osamu’s pudding preferences were on point.

“I have a question”, Atsumu asked. “Why were ya tryin’ so hard on those dates anyways? Those guys were obviously trash, and ya don’t really seem like the type that’s desperate for romance.”

What he said wasn’t wrong, and you two were kind of having a moment here. You figured it’d be fine to tell him about it.

“Ugh the thing is” You gulped down another spoon of pudding. “I’m trying to prove something to my family”

“Huh?”

“They don’t think I’m capable of romance, and my shitty cousin loves to rub it in my face. I’m trying to find a guy so I can flex on them”

He smirked. “Hah, that’s real petty”

You pointed your spoon at him. “I don’t wanna hear that from you.”

“Fair point”

Your computer chimed. You both turned to look at the screen. 100% Loaded.

“Yes!” You pumped your fists.

“Finally” Atsumu sighed, scraping the last of his pudding out of the cup. “So, ya gonna help me clean?”

“A deals a deal. Where should I start?”, you said combing your hair out of your face.

“I’ll take the tables. You’re on dish duty”

Atsumu went into the supply closet and came back with a rag. You caught yourself staring as he pushed his sleeves up. Okay the man had beautiful forearms, so what? You quickly looked away.

“You okay [y/n]?”, Atsumu interrupted your thoughts, cocking his head. Shit. You hoped he hadn’t noticed your little slip-up.

“Uh yeah! I got the dishes!”

~

You’d emailed the final prototype and you two were almost done tidying up. The only thing left to do was mopping the floor.

“[Y/N], How about we have a lil challenge”

You raised an eyebrow.

Atsumu brought two mops out of the supply closet, tossing one to you. “I’ll race ya. Last one to mop to the other side loses”

This was stupid there was no way you were about to have a dumb mopping ra-

“Unless you’re too scared”

You gripped your weapon. “Hah, You’re on”

You both stood at one end of the restaurant. Mops in hand.

“Ready” Atsumu clenched his mop. “Go!”

You realized that challenging a pro-athlete to a fair race was stupid. That’s why you didn’t intend to play fair. As soon as Atsumu motioned to take his first step you swiped your dripping mop in front of his foot. He lost his balance.

“Fuck!”

“Haha Loser!”, you turned to laugh at him. Thwack!

Atsumu collided with you knocking you backward. You hit the ground with a thud, securely pinned under him. Shit. He hauled himself onto his hands and knees, looking down at you.

“You cheated!”, he shouted.

“That doesn’t give you the right to tackle me!”, you shot back.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to tackle you!”

“So what!”, you grabbed his collar pulling him back so your foreheads were touching. You both paused. Shit. Did you just do something weird?

You were suddenly very aware of the nice smell wafting off his hair. You gulped. There was a pink blush creeping over Atsumu’s nose. He looked dumbstruck at first but soon a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“Wow [y/n], you’re pretty bold huh.”

“Shut up!”

The chimes jingled and the door opened. You both jumped and turned to the sound.

“Oolala”, the girl who came with Osamu was snickering.

“…is that my pudding?”

~

After that, you’d both apologized to Osamu, properly mopped the floor. You were getting ready to go home now. Luckily neither of you had been seriously injured in your little incident, but any time your eyes met Atsumu would shoot you an infuriating smirk.

As you were about to leave, Atsumu called out to you. “Hey [y/n] I’m gonna need my sweater back soon”

“Oh right! I forgot it at my apartment but I washed it so I’ll bring it by tomorrow”

“Sounds good. Good night [y/n].” As he turned to walk away, he looked back over his shoulder and smiled at you. It was a sincere smile like the one he gave you as he handed you his sweater the other day. You couldn’t help but smile back. This guy.

Your phone buzzed as you started walking back toward your apartment. You pulled it out.

Jerk Cousin:

Family brunch two Sundays from now. Don’t forget you’re in charge of fruit. My mom told me to remind you. She also said to tell you that you can bring a plus one, not that you’d need it lol

~

Onigiri Miya. Friday 11:15 AM

You’d slept like a baby that night, and woke up more refreshed than ever. It was like your 24 hours of hell never happened. You pulled open the door to the restaurant.

“Hey Osamu is Atsumu here? I have the sweater I kept forgetting in my apartment” You rustled through your bag pulling the sweater out. Looking up, you suddenly noticed that the restaurant was more packed than usual, and most of the occupants were looking at you.

“Oya?”

“Oya oya?”

[belettewrites]

Fanfiction tag game

Thank you @flowercrown-bard for the tag! I’m replying here because it makes more sense than using my main blog. 

How many works do you have on Ao3?

12! 

What’s your total Ao3 word count?

81 289 

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Don’t you (forget about me) - Jaskier is the god of memories, and after the mountain decides to grant Geralt’s blessing by taking himself out of the Witcher’s memories. Except, well, he only half succeeds. 

This is the first “big” fic I ever wrote! You’ll soon notice a pattern of me using lyrics as titles because titles are the worst jhdfgjkdjdf

Nostalgia - A big misunderstanding, really. Jaskier hears a song about Geralt and thinks that since Valdo wrote it, he must be traveling with Geralt. Meanwhile, Geralt hears the song and thinks that Jaskier allowed his students to write about him, meaning Jaskier is completely done with him. Basically, they’re stupid and miss each other. 

One of us is lonely, one of us is only (waiting for a call) - Jaskier reaches out to Geralt via a letter, they start repairing their friendship, then Geralt hears something and believes Jaskier died. 

Listen to the melody - Jaskier finds a dog and decides to keep it, while Geralt thinks about how one day, Jaskier will retire and never travel with him again. 

So this one is one of my fics where I go “dogs are great, Geralt and Jaskier should meet/have one” 

And when the rain begins to fall (I’ll be the sunshine in your life) - Geralt and Jaskier have to take a break because it’s starting to rain hard. Jaskier takes a nap, comfortably leaning against Geralt. 

So this one is one of my favorites because my dearest @potatofu-art drew something for it - you can find it here. Really, go check their blog, they’re amazing and so talented, you won’t regret it. 

(also, see what I was talking about with the lyrics as titles? yeah. the downside is that the songs get stuck in my head everytime I’m reminded of the fics jfhgkffhkd)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! Sometimes very, very late, because I always get overwhelmed - people are so nice to me and I never know what to reply 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Oh, uhm. I’d say Don’t you (forget about me) ? But I always kind of write happy endings, so. 

Or maybe Of springs and reunions, because they’re so happy to see each other again. 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ah! This one I know the answer to. It’s The last time (before we meet again). Jaskier is sad because Geralt and him are about to part ways for the winter. 

Do you write crossovers?

Not really. I have an idea, but it’d only take place in the universe of the book series, Jaskier and Geralt wouldn’t actually meet the main characters from that series. And I’m not really sure I’ll write it fjhdgkdkfd

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully, no. I hope I never do because boy that would hit me hard. 

Do you write smut? if so, what kind?

The answer to that question is in a text I sent when talking about an AU I had in mind; the text basically was “Oh fuck, I’ll have to write Jaskier being attracted to Geralt, I hope it won’t end up looking like when Holt pretends he’s straight.” 

So no, I don’t write smut djlfklfkdfgjdk

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Never 

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Right now it’s Geraskier, I don’t know if I have an all-time favorite. Though before being interested in Geraskier I really liked Destiel (thankfully I lost interest before the finale, but I’m still bitter about season 15)

What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don’t have published wips, because I’m too anxious to just post something that isn’t already finished. So shout out to the authors who do that, y’all are my heroes I have so much admiration for you. 

What are your writing strengths?

I have been told (if you’re reading this you’ll recognize yourself, btw ily) that I write dialogues well, so I’ll go with that

What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, English isn’t my first language so that is something I’m kinda insecure about - grammar is awful, verbs can’t be trusted, and don’t get me started on the commas. 

Other than that, I’d say descriptions. I think it’s linked to the fact that English isn’t my first language - there’s vocabulary I have in my mother language that I don’t have in English. Even now as I write this I’m not sure that ‘mother language’ can be said in English fjgkkdskfhdk

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Mmh. I’ve never really thought about it? When I read fics and suddenly there’s French, I do a double take because huh?? But I wouldn’t write dialogues in another language in a fic, because idk it would just feel weird. And if the reader can’t understand it, then what’s the point? Unless there’s a character who serves as a translator, but you know, I think it would kinda break the rhythm of the fic. 

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

So. Picture this: I am ten, I do not know what fanfictions are, and I’m really into Warrior Cats. 

(this is where my main pseudo comes from, btw. It’s short for Snowfeather, and no I don’t know how to pronounce Snowfea either gfdhkfdjkd)

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Mmmmmmmmh. Lemme think. Granted there are only twelve fics to choose from, but still. 

I’ll chose Don’t you (forget about me) again, I think. 

I don’t know who to tag except for @lokibus hjffdhjjhkjd

[butterflies-dragons]

You were too kind to that jonarya anon. Well this is nice of you. But why didn’t you just mention that Grrm has already very openly denied Jonarya? He said Jon seeing Arya in Ygritte was not a romantic hint. This is Grrm we are talking about... He would say keep reading or no comment if he took them serious... That boat (not even gonna call ship) is dead but jonaryas still lurking under our posts like stalking us is going to change the reality. Sad.

Hi Anon,

I didn’t mention the Balticon 2016 Report because that’s what GRRM has said, and they only asked about “my opinion”, so that’s what I said, my opinion. 

Now, if you are asking for the author’s own voice, I will answer citing GRRM words.

This is not a shipper or anti shipper opinion, this is citing the author’s own words, and this is something that even in a platform like asoiaf reddit, is taken as “denial of the romance between Jon & Arya” [Source]:

MAY 2016 - BALTICON

After the Coffee Talk just outside the room:

My Con Friend asked about Arya and Jon again. This time GRRM gave some very pointed replies:

GRRM finished (in the hallway now) by saying that he “wished some past things weren’t such strong foreshadowing,” and that he, “wished some new things had stronger foreshadowing then.”

Friend: Ok, if you foreshadowed something in the first book, like, really cleverly hidden, would you then follow through on that hint? For sure?..

GRRM: “Well, this goes with what I said before, the story changes and expands as I write. I wish I was able to go back and make revised drafts, but that’s not going to happen.”

Here is a transcript of the outline discussion and Jon/Arya portion of the coffee talk:

[question about Jon/Arya]

GRRM: “Alright, you’ve thought about this more than I have. I mean it’s simple, Jon is very fond of Arya. They were the two odd birds in the Stark family nest, here. They didn’t quite fit in with the others, they look like each other, they both had the brown hair, you know, as opposed to the auburn hair of Sansa and Bran and Rickon and Robb. So there was always that closeness between them. And, you know, Arya didn’t mind that Jon was a bastard, and Jon didn’t mind that Arya was a tomboy, so there is that closeness there.”

[question about Jon comparing his lover to his sister]

GRRM: “If he did it, uhm… I began writing these books in 1991, and, uhm, I worked on it in 91 and then I got a tv play, so I put it aside to really work on ‘Doorways’ tv pilot and did a tv show in 92-93. In 94 I returned to it [the books] and worked on it. You know, up till then, in my career as a writer, I’d always written the entire book before I opted for sale. That’s unusual. Most writers do chapters and an outline. They write a few chapters, they outline the rest of the book, give that to the publisher and the publisher says ‘oh okay, I’ll take that’.

“As some of you may have noticed, those who have been paying very, very carefully attention, I’m not good with deadlines. And, uh, and I’m not good with outlines, either. I always hated outlines. So with Fevre Dream and with Armageddon Rag and with Dying of the Light and all my novels, I wrote the entire book. I didn’t do chapters and outline. I sat down, I wrote a whole book, and I sent it to my agent and said ‘Look, here’s a whole book, and it’s finished’. That way I ran into no deadline, it was finished before it even went on the market. And it worked well for me. And my initial thought was to do this the same way, but what happened, you know, was in 1994, uhm, when I returned to it and I’m working on it and I’m very enthused about it and I say ‘I really wanna write these Game of Thrones books as the next part’. But I was still in Hollywood and I’d just lost all this groundwork on ‘Doorways’, I was still in… The studios and networks still wanna work with me, so I’m getting other offers, like ‘We want you to write this movie’, ‘we want you to do another tv pilot’. And, you know, I took a couple of them and was ‘Oh god, I gotta have to put the book away again’. Cause I have no deadline [for the book]. You know, when you think Hollywood, they will give you a deadline, you know, they say ‘here, son, write this movie, we want it in three months’.

“So, I said ‘look, if I wanna get back to being a novelist, I’m gonna have to sell this even though it’s not finished’. So I had my 200 pages of Game of Thrones at that point, but they wanted outline. I said ‘I don’t do outlines. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, I figure it out as I go. And that’s how I always did it.’ No, we had to have an outline. So I wrote two pages, a two-page thing about what I thought would happen. It’ll be a trilogy, it’ll be three books, Game of Thrones, the Dance with Dragons, and Winds of Winter. Those were the three window titles. And, uh, it’ll be three books and this’ll happen, and this’ll happen, and this’ll happen. And I was making up shit.

“And I had thought that those two pages were long forgotten, because, of course, the books did sell. They sold in the United States and in Great Britain, both. They sold for enough money that I didn’t have to take any more Hollywood games. So I was able to say ‘no’ around. I had a few less [?] to wind up in in 94 and 95. Once I had, I said ‘no, I don’t want any more movies or tv shows, I’m going to write these books now’. And I started writing the books. And in the process, I pretty much disregarded the outline. The characters took me off in entirely different directions. So, for 20 years I had forgotten that that two-page thing even existed. And then someone in my British publisher, HarperCollins, they got a new office building, uh, brand new offices, and new conference rooms, big conference rooms that they decorated with books and stuff like that. And they named the conference rooms after the writers, so one of the conference rooms [?], and they put up these plastic display cases, including the outline. The two-page outline, yes. [?], they didn’t ask my permission, they just put it up. And in that two-page outline, Jon and Arya become a romantic item.”

“You know, I don’t think it’s a reference for that [for romance]. It’s a reference to a certain physical type, and  a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It’s like someone who reminds you of, you know… Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn’t put him off because he is used to that.””

[someone says they have 5 minutes left]

“You know, I was pretty pissed that that outline got out there. It should not have happened. Outlines and letters like that are meant only for the eyes of the editor. They shouldn’t go on public display. And, uh, they also [?] my papers on [?], all my papers and correspondence. You know, I’ve been sending that stuff there for years, and it’d be, you know, available for future scholars or whatever, just like the papers of many other writers. Somehow, in the back of my head I was like ‘yeah, 20 years after I’m dead some scholar will go in and find them’. They’re going in right now!”   ”

[question if he is still going with the 1991 ending]

“Yes, I mean, I did partly joke when I said I don’t know where I was going. I know the broad strokes, and I’ve known the broad strokes since 1991. I know who’s going to be on the Iron Throne. I know who’s gonna win some of the battles, I know the major characters, who’s gonna die and how they’re gonna die, and who’s gonna get married and all that. The major characters. Of course along the way I made up a lot of minor characters, you know, I, uhm…Did I know in 1991 how Bronn, what was gonna happen to Bronn? No, I didn’t even know there’d be a guy named Bronn. I was inventing him along the way when I was writing, ‘Okay, he gets kidnapped. Let’s see, there are a couple sellswords there, their names are Fred and Bronn’.

“It was actually Bronn and Chiggen, and then one of them dies, I flipped a coin ‘okay, who dies? Chiggen dies, cause his name is stupid. Bronn is a better name, so I’ll keep Bronn’. And then Bronn became quite an interesting character and plenty of these characters take on minds of their own. They push to the front till you [?] speech and you think of a cool line and you give it to Bronn because he’s trying to talk, and now Bronn is somebody who says something cool. [?]. That’s how characters grow on you. “So a lot of the minor characters I’m still discovering along the way. But the mains-”

[question if he knows Arya’s and Jon’s fates]

“Tyrion, Arya, Jon, Sansa, you know, all of the Stark kids, and the major Lannisters, yeah.”

This report appears in the following sources:

fattest leech of ice and fire blog [Source 1]

asoiaf.westeros.org [Source 2]  

westeros.org [Source 3]

Thanks for the question.