#and then found it kinda hard to get back into it

[somethhing-someethinng]

#lbh. visibly exhausted and with twitchy eyes: im fine :) | everyone else: ho no the fuck you ARENT.#SQQ was hysterical not because he found out LBH was half-demon but bc he was having a long-awaited mental breakdown over his autonomy :)#or (limited) lack thereof. he was having a sudden onset crisis of mortality and was handling at quite literally the WORST time. oops#im thinking very hard that LBH would never push his disciple into the abyss especially with no system to force him to. so SQQ either#had to goad him into it (failing always) or throw himself in. he ended up doing it himself but not before some very impressive hysterics.#BUT ALSO. IF THIS HAD BEEN WHERE SQQ WAS THE HALF-HEAVENLY DEMON INSTEAD IT WOULD'VE BEEN SO GREAT.#and by great i mean horribly angsty bc SQQ is NOT doing too hot and has. in very SY-like fashion. convinced himself that LBH will kill him#when he finds out he's a demon. so when it comes out i have this mental image of him lunging at LBH and LBH flinches back. but SQQ wraps hi#hands around the blade of Zheng Yang and yanks it up so the tip of the blade is digging into his chest where is heart is. LBH can't yank th#sword away without risking slicing into SQQ's hands. SQQ's hair has fallen out of its tail/bun and is now messily spilling down his#back and its NO helping the kinda deranged look he has going on. he's visibly shaking and his eyes keep flittering away and back at LBH's#face. SQQ is looking at the messages from the system warning him that he has to go into the abyss or punishment will occur. he's like.#rambling though. talking about how shizun doesn't *like* unclean things and there is nothing more unclean than a demon. like he is#INSISTING. LBH can't?? get a fucking word in. actually. SY isn't listening that much either anyways. too overwhelmed with the system and#the amount of stress he's under and his crumbling mental state and the innate and primal desire to live even when he's standing in front of#his own executioner. it all ends with him sitting on the ground at the lip of the abyss with his hair falling in his face. he looks so#unkempt and fallen apart and so distinctly *non-Shen Qingqiu* that LBH feels physically ill over it. tears are streaming down SQQ's face#and despite everything he is smiling. its not a nice smile. its a very frayed falling apart at the seams about to crack smile.#he tells shizun not to worry about staining his blade with this disciple's filthy blood because this disciple will take care of it himself.#and then he falls into the abyss before luo binghe can so much as grab him. the only reason LBh doesn't literally jump in after him is bc#he was numb with shock and the abyss was already closed before he could feel his legs again :]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[kiwriteswords]

It's a Match [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 7.6k|| AN: I rescheduled a hinge date to finish writing this (I wish I was joking)...that is the inspo for this. I really enjoyed this one, though!

Tags/Warnings: non-BAU!Reader, suggestive themes, canon-typical themes, implied sexual themes, dating apps, meet cute ? kinda?, Aaron Hotchner's POV, Garcia-the-ever-supportive-friend, The BAU giving Hotch shit, Garcia signing Hotch up for a dating app.

Summary: Aaron Hotchner rarely sought out the opinions of others, but when his co-workers' incessant nagging about getting back out in the dating world continues, he begins to think about it a little more clearly.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t fond of his personal life being up for debate. At this point in his life, he rarely found himself seeking the advice of others. He found that relying so heavily on other’s input, only made him feel less confident in his decisions. 

That isn’t to say that his team...his team that means well--he must add, that they…they tend to still give advice without him needing to ask for it.  

In the low hum of the bullpen, Hotch tood with a stern expression, his eyes scanning the case files in a folder he held. Despite the typical chaos of phone calls and keyboard clacks, an undercurrent of a different sort awaited Hotch--a well-meaning, albeit persistent, nudge from his team towards something resembling a personal life.

“Hotch, you seriously need to get out more,” Garcia quipped as she approached him, her fingers dancing across a colorful tablet, laden with what Hotch assumed were not just case notes but potential social engagements. “It’s been ages since Beth and...well, you know.”

Hotch merely nodded, his jaw tightening slightly. He appreciated her concern, a softness blooming in his chest, but the thought of venturing back into the world of dating seemed daunting, a distant terrain.

“You have to admit, Jack’s practically a grown-up now. He’s got his own social calendar,” Prentiss joined in, her voice light, trying to tread carefully around the subject.

Hotch sighed, setting down the file he was holding. “I’m not sure I’m ready,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. This admission felt heavy, laden with the unspoken grief of losing Haley and the subsequent dissolution of what little personal life he had managed to rebuild.

Morgan leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed. “Look, man, no one’s saying jump into anything serious. Just...meet people. Have coffee. Laugh a little.” His tone was earnest, edged with concern.

Hotch rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the weight of their stares. “I know you all mean well, but—”

“It’s healthy, Hotch!” Garcia interrupted, her voice vibrant, attempting to infuse some light into the somber mood. “And who knows? Maybe there’s someone out there who’s been waiting just for someone like you.”

Despite himself, Hotch’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. He admired Garcia’s relentless optimism. “Maybe,” he conceded.

The team seemed to collectively hold their breath, waiting for more, but Hotch was not ready to offer anything beyond that concession. He glanced around at each of them, their faces etched with a mix of hope and caution.

“I’ll think about it,” Hotch finally said, a compromise that seemed to satisfy them for the moment. He hoped this was the last of it. 

As the team dispersed back to their tasks, Hotch returned to his office. His hand brushed over a photo of Haley and Jack, the texture of the frame familiar and bittersweet under his fingers. He wasn’t sure if he was truly ready to let someone else into his life, but the warmth from his team’s concern was hard to ignore. Maybe it was time to start thinking about the possibility, even if the thought alone made his heart race with a mix of fear and anticipation.

Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to know his team would bring this up…again. And again. And you know what? Probably again. 

The evening found the team at a local bar, a rare collective moment of downtime that buzzed with laughter and casual banter. Hotch, though present and occasionally contributing to the conversation, often found his gaze wandering over the crowd, an observer more than a participant.

Garcia leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she nudged JJ, who was scanning the crowd with a mischievous grin. "Okay, so there's this woman at the bar," Garcia whispered loud enough for the team to hear, "and she looks perfect for Hotch."

Hotch, who had been sipping his scotch quietly, raised an eyebrow, his posture stiffening slightly. "I thought we agreed—"

"Oh, come on, Hotch, it’s just a bit of fun," JJ interjected, her gaze fixed on someone across the room. "No harm in looking, right?"

Morgan chuckled, clapping Hotch on the shoulder. "Let's see if Garcia's matchmaking skills are as good as her tech skills."

Reluctantly, Hotch turned his gaze towards the bar. The woman in question was laughing loudly, a little too boisterously, her movements slightly uncoordinated as she swayed to the music. As if sensing the attention, she looked over, her eyes locking with Hotch’s for a brief, unsettling moment before she raised her glass in a sloppy salute.

Hotch’s lips thinned, his discomfort clear. He turned back to his team, shaking his head. "I don't think—"

Before he could finish, the woman decided to make her way over, her steps uneven, a clear sign of her inebriation. Garcia and JJ exchanged a glance, their initial enthusiasm dimming as they watched the scene unfold.

"Hey there, handsome," the woman slurred as she approached Hotch, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of nearby patrons. "I saw you staring. Buy me a drink?"

Hotch stood, his FBI training kicking in to manage the situation with politeness mixed with firmness. "I believe you’ve had enough for tonight," he said, his voice low and calm.

The woman pouted, leaning closer, her sense of personal space clearly compromised by alcohol. "Oh, come on, don't be such a party pooper."

From the table, Rossi raised an eyebrow, his expression one of concern as he watched Hotch handle the delicate situation. Prentiss covered her mouth, trying to hide her cringe, while Morgan finally stood, ready to intervene.

"Ma'am, I think you need to go back to your friends," Morgan said, steering her gently but firmly by the elbow.

As the woman was guided away, muttering under her breath, Hotch sat back down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The team was silent for a moment, the previous mirth replaced by a shared awkwardness.

Garcia finally broke the silence, her voice soft. "I’m sorry, Hotch. That was not what we expected."

JJ nodded, adding, "Yeah, we just thought...I don’t know what we thought."

Hotch managed a small smile, appreciating their intentions despite the outcome. "It’s okay. I know you both mean well." His gaze shifted to his glass, his mind not on the failed attempt at matchmaking, but on the quiet realization that perhaps he wasn’t quite as ready as they hoped he’d be to jump back into the dating scene.

The team spent the rest of the evening avoiding any further matchmaking attempts, focusing instead on stories from past cases and plans for the weekend. Hotch listened, occasionally contributing, but mostly he appreciated the laughter and the familiar, comforting presence of his team.

As they left the bar later that evening, Hotch felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder--Rossi’s silent support. "You'll know when it’s time, Aaron," Rossi said quietly, his voice carrying a weight of understanding.

Hotch nodded, the night’s air cool and refreshing as it cleared the remnants of the bar’s claustrophobia. "Thanks, Dave," he said, feeling a little lighter. Despite the evening’s missteps, the bond with his team had never felt stronger. He knew they had his back, in the field and beyond, and that was enough--for now.

But then it happened again and Hotch began to feel cornered by his own team. It was getting a bit ridiculous, if you asked him. 

The dull roar of the jet’s engines served as a backdrop to the team's winding down conversations, each member settling into their seats, weary yet content after a successful case closure. As the aircraft hummed its way through the skies, Derek Morgan turned his attention towards his teammates, a grin spreading across his face as he hatched another of his well-intentioned plans.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Derek began, his voice filled with a conspiratorial warmth, “I say this weekend, we do a guys’ night out. Just us, some good food, maybe a few drinks, and see what kind of trouble we can find.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a silent question hanging in the balance as he met Derek’s gaze. He appreciated Derek’s efforts, always aimed at lightening the mood or bringing them together off the clock, but the idea of a night focused on meeting women wasn’t particularly appealing.

Rossi, who had been quietly reading a book, looked up with a smirk. “Speak for yourself, Morgan. I don’t need wingmen,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. “And I doubt Aaron here needs one either. When he’s ready, he’s ready. No pressure needed.”

Derek laughed, turning to Reid, who was absently shuffling some papers. “What about you, pretty boy? You think you got game?”

Reid looked up, blinking behind his glasses. “I-I suppose I could… that is to say, I have read extensively on social dynamics and interpersonal—”

“Spencer, if you have to quote a study, it’s not game,” Hotch interjected, a rare, teasing tone in his voice as he shared a knowing look with Rossi.

Reid’s cheeks tinged pink, but his lips curved into a smile. “Well, I might surprise you,” he countered, the mock offense clear in his tone.

The banter lightened Hotch’s mood, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as the familiar and comforting dynamic of their team played out around him. It was these moments, simple and unadorned, that reminded him of what mattered most.

Derek clapped his hands together, his smile broadening. “Alright, it’s settled then. We’ll table the wingman idea for now, but we’re still doing guys’ night, agreed?”

“Agreed,” Rossi and Reid chimed in, their voices overlapping.

Hotch nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the postponement of the original plan. “Agreed,” he added, his voice firm yet grateful.

As the conversation drifted to other topics, Hotch leaned back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the dark window, reflecting the soft interior lights of the jet. The thought of venturing back into the world of dating remained daunting, a distant shore he wasn’t quite ready to explore.

It seemed like not-subtle attempt, after not-subtle attempt, Hotch felt like he was getting further and further away from the idea of wanting to meet someone. 

Hotch's reluctance to step back into the dating world was not born of fear, nor was it due to a lack of interest in companionship. Rather, it was the weight of his past--a tapestry woven with profound love and devastating loss--that anchored him. The memories of Haley, vibrant and alive, contrasted sharply with the harrowing night of her death. Then there was Beth, a chapter that had closed gently, but still a loss that added layers to his guarded heart.

As he sat there, his eyes occasionally flickering to the photos of Jack on his desk, Hotch considered the complexities of introducing someone new into their lives. Jack, now a teenager, was his priority, and any disruption that could unsettle the stable life he had fought so hard to provide was a risk Hotch was hesitant to take.

The responsibilities of his role at the BAU further complicated matters. His job was not just a career; it was a calling--one that demanded everything of him, including long hours and the mental toll of delving into the darkest corners of human behavior. How could he find or ask someone to understand that? Hotch's brow furrowed as he considered this. How could he bring someone into this world--his world--where danger was a constant companion and where the balance between life and death was often precariously thin?

Hotch was lost in the meticulous review of case files when the whirlwind known as Penelope Garcia burst into his office, her tablet clutched like a treasure chest of mischief. Her arrival was usually heralded by her exuberant chatter or the bright clash of her eclectic fashion, but today it was her wide grin that signaled she was up to something particularly Garcia-esque.

"Hotch, you are not going to believe what I've done!" she exclaimed, barely containing her excitement as she approached his desk.

Hotch looked up, his expression a blend of wariness and resignation. "Garcia, please tell me you haven't hacked into another government database." He thought this moment itself could take years off his life. 

"No, silly!" She waved off the comment with a flick of her wrist. "Something much better. I've signed you up for a dating app!" She beamed, clearly proud of her handiwork.

Hotch’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Garcia, you know how dangerous those can be. I have no business being on a dating app."

"Oh, come on, Hotch! This is how people meet nowadays. It's all very safe, and you can be upfront about what you're looking for through DMs!" Garcia explained, her enthusiasm undimmed.

"DMs?" Hotch frowned, his confusion evident.

"Direct messages, Hotch. Keep up!" She tapped on her tablet, pulling up a profile that Hotch hoped against hope wasn’t his. His hope was in vain.

Garcia turned the tablet toward him, revealing a profile complete with photos of Hotch that looked suspiciously candid and slightly dated. "See? I even picked your best photos. This one's from that beach vacation you took ten years ago. You're shirtless! It's gold, Hotch, pure gold."

Hotch stared at the photo, his mind racing back to a much simpler time. "Garcia, I barely even look like that anymore. Where did you even find this?"

"In the deep recesses of the BAU annual trip photo archive thingy," she quipped, winking. "And everyone needs at least bathing suit photo, Hotch. It's like an unwritten rule of dating apps."

Garcia proceeded to scroll through the profile, pointing out the interests she had listed for him. "Look, I put down that you love long walks on the beach, are an aficionado of fine wines, and have a passion for rare book collecting."

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Garcia, I’ve never collected a book in my life, unless case files count."

She shrugged, undeterred. "Details, Hotch, details. It's all about selling the dream."

Despite his frustration, a small smile tugged at the corners of Hotch's mouth. Only Garcia could get away with this level of audacity. She gleefully showed him how to use the app, swiping through various screens before downloading it onto his phone with practiced ease.

As Garcia finally left his office, still bubbling with excitement, Hotch looked down at the app icon on his phone. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this could be a good thing. Shaking his head, he chuckled softly to himself. "Only Garcia," he muttered, his annoyance fading to a fond exasperation.

Left alone with his new digital dating life, Hotch tapped on the app, curiosity overcoming his initial reluctance. As he scrolled through the interface, the absurdity of the situation struck him, and he couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh. Maybe exploring this new world wouldn’t be so bad, especially if it gave him more stories to share with Garcia--just maybe not the ones she was hoping for.

One night soon after, Hotch made it home at a reasonable (well, still very late) time--reasonable for him. He settled into the unusual quiet of his apartment, the absence of Jack's lively presence making the space seem larger and more silent than usual. With a sigh, he resigned himself to a solitary evening--a rare slice of downtime that was both welcome and unnerving.

After a moment of hesitation, curiosity nudged him towards the dating app that Garcia had enthusiastically installed on his phone. He still harbored reservations about the entire concept, but with the night stretching empty before him, the app seemed like a harmless diversion..

Sitting comfortably on his couch, Hotch opened the app and began navigating through it with a tentative curiosity. The light from his phone cast a soft glow in the dim room as he scrolled through profiles, his face a mask of concentration.

Methodically, he started tweaking his profile, softening Garcia's more flamboyant embellishments to reflect his true nature. He made it clear he was a devoted father and that his--undisclosed to the app--job was demanding, requiring anyone interested to understand the stakes of his career. His description was straightforward--seeking a meaningful connection with someone who could appreciate the complexities of his life.

As he swiped through the profiles, Hotch's brow furrowed slightly. Many were immediately unsuitable--too young, too flashy, or just too far from what he felt comfortable with. One profile made him pause, the woman's intense stare and array of self-purchased tactical gear a bit too reminiscent of an unsub profile he'd studied just weeks before.

But then, he swiped to the next profile, and everything stopped. The woman's photos--your photos exuded warmth and sincerity, your smile genuine, reaching your eyes and lighting up your entire face. 

Your description was simple yet profound, speaking of your love for literature, your passion for teaching, and your volunteer work with children. It wasn't just your physical appearance that caught his attention--it was the evident kindness and intelligence that shone through your words.

Hotch's finger hovered over the screen for a moment before he decided to swipe right, feeling a strange surge of hope. The screen flashed, and the word "Match!" appeared. A small, surprised smile touched his lips. It was the first profile he had responded to positively, and the immediate match was unexpected.

For a moment, Hotch stared at the screen, the implications of the match settling in. This was uncharted territory for him, stepping into a world of potential and possibilities. With a deep breath, he opened the messaging feature, contemplating his first words to you. He wanted to convey sincerity and interest, a reflection of the authenticity that had drawn him to your profile in the first place.

As he typed out a simple greeting, careful to be both respectful and engaging, Hotch felt a flicker of something like excitement—or perhaps it was just the thrill of new beginnings. Whatever it was, it felt right, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner allowed himself to feel cautiously optimistic about the path unfolding before him.

The digital conversation was new territory for him, each notification a pulse of unfamiliar excitement. When your reply came, it was both thoughtful and warm, sparking a connection that seemed to transcend the mere pixels of his screen.

As the messages exchanged grew more frequent and personal, Hotch admitted, somewhat reluctantly, that he was a novice in the realm of online dating. He explained how his work  shaped his cautious view on things like dating apps, and he confessed that it was his team’s encouragement that led him here.

You responded with understanding, echoing his sentiments about the unusual path that brought you both to this app, yet expressing a selfish gladness that his coworkers had nudged him into this new experience. It was a sentiment Hotch couldn’t help but share, feeling a connection building that was both surprising and delightful.

The conversation naturally flowed, and soon, you suggested shifting from texting to something more personal. "I'm not much for messaging," you wrote, "Would you be up for a video call instead?"

Hotch felt a wave of relief wash over him. Navigating the app was one thing, but speaking to someone, hearing their voice, that was familiar ground. He agreed eagerly, and within moments, he was waiting for the call to connect, his heart rate subtly quickening.

He was glad this didn’t allow for much time to think in between--he’d be afraid he would talk himself out of it. Find a million reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this. 

When your face appeared on his screen, the connection was instantaneous. You were even more captivating in motion, your smile lighting up the digital space between you. Hotch found himself momentarily lost for words, taken aback by how the interaction felt so natural, so right.

"Hi," he started, his voice steadier than he felt. "I hope it’s okay to say this, but you’re even more beautiful than your pictures."

You laughed, a sound that was both melodic and grounding, easing the last of Hotch's nerves. "Thank you, Aaron. You're quite the charmer yourself."

As the conversation unfolded, the chemistry was undeniable. You both shared stories, your laughter mingling through the airwaves, bridging the physical distance with ease. Hotch, typically reserved, found himself opening up about aspects of his life that he seldom discussed outside his closest circles.

You were a professor at a university. A bit younger than him, but did not seem phased by that--especially considering his age, height, along with way too many other physical details, were displayed on his profile. 

Encouraged by the undeniable connection, Hotch took a breath before voicing a thought that had been on his mind since the call began. "I don’t mean to be forward, but I would really like to meet you in person. Would you like to go out for dinner this week?"

Your smile broadened, and it was all the confirmation Hotch needed. "I'd love to, Aaron. That sounds wonderful."

Plans were made for a dinner later that week, the details ironed out with mutual enthusiasm. As the call ended, Hotch sat back, a sense of accomplishment and anticipation settling over him. He hadn’t expected this when he first opened the app, but now, he couldn’t deny the potential that lay ahead.

He placed his phone down, his mind replaying moments from the call, each laugh and shared story a promise of possibilities. 

Hotch’s mind was a tumult of apprehension as he prepared for the evening. Each scenario he imagined was tinged with the occupational hazard of suspecting the worst. Yet, he meticulously chose his attire, settling on a sharp, dark suit that matched his formal, reserved nature. Despite the nerves, a part of him--the part trained to face unknowns head-on--compelled him forward.

He arrived at the restaurant punctually, the ambiance a blend of soft lighting and quiet chatter, ideal for a meaningful first date. Standing at the entrance, he scanned the area for you, his heart rate ticking upward not out of fear, but anticipation.

When he finally saw you, everything else fell away. You were waiting at the table, looking up from your menu with a smile that drew him in completely. As he approached, Hotch felt the last of his doubts dissolve, replaced by an unexpected surge of hope.

"Hi," he greeted, voice steady despite the whirlwind inside. "You look incredible."

You stood to meet him, extending a confident hand that he shook gently. "Thank you, Aaron. You're quite dashing yourself. I’m so glad to meet you in person."

As you both sat, the conversation began to flow naturally between the ordering of drinks and dishes. Hotch found himself genuinely smiling, engaged by your insights and humor. Almost forgetting that this was someone who had been a total stranger to him not long before. 

"So, you're a professor?" he inquired, genuinely interested. He remembered you mentioning it briefly in your first initial conversation. 

"Yes, I teach literature. I like to think of myself as a life-long learner and to be able to share words and pages that shaped so many lives--it’s incredible," you explained, your eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

"That sounds extremely rewarding," Hotch commented, noting the passion in your voice. "It must be fascinating to see students develop their understanding over a semester."

"It is," you agreed. "And what about you? I know you work for the DOJ, but what does that entail day-to-day?"

Hotch hesitated, weighing how much to share, before deciding on honesty--he couldn’t deny that your presence…your aura made it easy to want to share. "It's challenging. My job can be intense--managing cases, leading a team. But it's fulfilling, knowing we're making a difference."

You nodded thoughtfully, sipping your glass of wine and looking at him over the rim of the glass. "It sounds like you're very dedicated. I admire that."

The conversation shifted seamlessly to lighter topics, and eventually to Jack. "He's staying with a friend tonight," Hotch mentioned. "He's growing up fast, involved in sports, school...it keeps us both busy."

"It sounds like you're a great father," you noted, your tone warm. "Balancing such a demanding job and raising him."

Hotch appreciated the compliment, feeling a flush of pride. "I try my best. Jack is my priority. It’s just us two."

As the dinner progressed, there was a mutual, comfortable--and natural--level of flirting that neither of you shied away from. You leaned in slightly, your interest clear as you spoke, "I must say, Aaron, I was a bit nervous about this date, I’ve never been on a date from an app before…but you've made this evening truly enjoyable."

Hotch mirrored your movement, leaning in, driven by a rare impulse to connect. "I can honestly say the same. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I'm glad I came tonight."

The evening ended with a promise to see each other again, both of you reluctant to part ways after such a promising start. As Hotch walked you to your car, he felt a lightness he hadn't experienced in years.

"Thank you for tonight," he said, standing a bit closer. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again soon."

"I'd like that," you smiled, your confidence and warmth evident even in the dim light of the parking lot.

As you drove away, Hotch remained for a moment, watching the taillights fade into the night. He allowed himself a small, hopeful smile, a sense of anticipation for the future blossoming inside him. Tonight, Aaron Hotchner felt not just the skilled agent, but a man stepping into a new chapter of his life, unexpectedly uplifted by the promise of new beginnings.

As Aaron Hotchner and you grew closer, the budding relationship unveiled a lighter side of Hotch, one that had been subdued for years under the weight of responsibility and duty. The dynamic between you was characterized by a playful banter that coaxed smiles and even laughter from the normally stoic FBI agent.

One crisp evening, as you both enjoyed a casual stroll through a local art festival, you pointed at a particularly abstract painting. "So, Aaron, if you were an art critic, what profound analysis would you offer here?"

Hotch studied the painting, his brow furrowng in mock seriousness. "Well," he began, adopting a thoughtful tone, "I would say that the chaotic swirls represent the tumultuous nature of...let's say, choosing the perfect wine to go with dinner."

You laughed, bumping his shoulder lightly with yours. "That sounds suspiciously like last night’s dilemma. Did this piece just speak to your soul?"

He turned to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "It might have. Or maybe it’s reminding me that I should stick to my day job."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you both shared stories and insights. Later, sitting at a small café, Hotch opened up about his work with a rare openness, prompted by your genuine interest and lack of judgment.

"You know, most people get intimidated when I talk about my job," Hotch admitted, stirring his coffee slowly.

"You're not just your job, Aaron," you responded, smiling warmly. "Though, I must admit, it’s a pretty impressive part of who you are. But I’m more interested in the man who can quote Shakespeare and knows his way around an impressive omelet."

Hotch’s smile was genuine, a little wider this time. "Well, I could say the same about a woman who can discuss Renaissance literature and beat me in a game of chess."

As the evening wore on, Hotch found himself sharing more than he usually allowed. The topic of fatherhood--the most important part of his identity, always seemed to weave his way through. And now, having a teenager, a wise teenager, it didn’t take long before Jack picked up on the fact that Hotch was seeing someone. 

"Jack’s been asking about you," he said cautiously, observing your reaction.

"Is that so?" you grinned, clearly pleased. "And what exactly have you told him about me?"

"That his dad is spending time with a very smart, beautiful, and funny woman who might just be a worse cook than I am."

Your laughter filled the space between you, and Hotch felt a warmth that went beyond the ambient glow of the café’s lights. "Challenge accepted. I’ll have you know, my culinary skills are...in development."

The playful back-and-forth continued, with each exchange gently peeling back layers of Hotch's reserved exterior. It was clear to both of you that something significant was taking root--something filled with potential and promise.

As you parted ways that evening, Hotch felt an ease and contentment that was new and invigorating. "I'm looking forward to our next culinary showdown," he teased, his tone light but sincere.

"And I, for one, can’t wait to see what other hidden talents you have, Agent Hotchner," you replied, your voice playful yet affectionate.

Walking back to his car, Hotch allowed himself a rare, contented smile. This new chapter with you was unfolding into something unexpectedly wonderful, showing him that life could indeed be vibrant and full of surprises, even for someone as grounded in reality as SSA Aaron Hotchner.

After an elegant evening at the theater, Aaron Hotchner found himself walking with you to the car under a starlit sky, the air crisp and cool, perfect for the light jackets you both wore. The play had been a profound one, sparking rich conversation between the two of you that continued as you strolled. Your love for classic literature and his lost love for theatre combined. 

Hotch, typically reserved, felt an unusual flutter of anticipation mixed with a warmth that had grown steadily since the night began.

He had thought about this often, but never felt the need to bring it up--in due time, he thought, but tonight…tonight felt like it was due. 

"You know," Hotch began, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of emotion, "I can't believe we've been seeing each other for this long, and I haven’t even—"

You turned to face him, a teasing sparkle in your eyes. "Haven’t even what, Aaron?"

He paused, looking into your eyes which were reflecting the soft streetlights. "Kissed you," he admitted, the words feeling more significant as they hung in the air between you.

Your smile widened, and you stepped a little closer, diminishing the space between you. "Is Aaron Hotchner nervous about a kiss?" you asked playfully, tilting your head as you gazed up at him.

The corner of Hotch's mouth lifted in a half-smile, a rare show of his lighter side that you had slowly uncovered. "Maybe," he confessed, his usual confidence tempered with a vulnerability he rarely showed. "But only because it feels important."

"It is," you agreed softly, your hand finding his. "But only because it’s you."

That was all the encouragement Hotch needed. He leaned down, his heart beating a touch faster as his lips met yours in a gentle, searching kiss. It was a kiss that started tentatively but grew more confident as you responded, your hands moving up to lightly grasp his jacket.

The world seemed to quiet around you, the buzz of the city fading into a distant hum. Hotch’s free hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his touch tender yet certain. The kiss deepened, stirring a warmth that spread through his entire body, a feeling of rightness that was both exhilarating and calming.

When you finally parted, both of you were slightly breathless, a flush on your cheeks that matched the one on Hotch’s. You laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears.

"So, was it everything you hoped it would be?" you teased, your eyes dancing with mirth.

Hotch, still holding you close, nodded. "Even more," he said sincerely. "I think using that app might have been one of the best decisions I've ever made."

Your laughter rang out again, joyous and free. "Just for the record, you're the only one I ever made it on a date with," you shared, giving him a playful nudge.

"And you were the only one I ever messaged," Hotch revealed, his usual stoicism warmed by the affection in his voice. "I guess we both got incredibly lucky."

The drive to bring you home was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by shared looks and soft smiles. When he stopped at your place, Hotch leaned over to kiss you again, this time with a confidence borne of the shared connection that had only deepened since the first.

"Goodnight," he said, his voice low and filled with a promise of more to come.

"Goodnight, Aaron," you replied, your hand squeezing his for a moment longer before you stepped out,

As Hotch drove away, his mind replayed every moment of the evening, each memory a treasure. He realized, with a clarity that was almost startling, just how much he had come to care for you.

Days later, Hotch sat solemnly at the round table, his usual composed demeanor slightly offset by an underlying layer of disappointment. As the team geared up for an abrupt deployment to handle a pressing case, Hotch couldn't help but think about the dinner plans he had to cancel with you. He had been looking forward to a relaxing evening, a rare chance to step away from the demands of his job and focus on the burgeoning relationship that had become a significant source of joy in his life.

"I'm sorry, I can't make it tonight," Hotch had said over the phone earlier, his voice carrying a weight of regret.

"It's okay, Aaron," you had responded, your tone light and teasing. "I'll just have to spend the evening sending you flirty texts instead. Stay safe, and catch the bad guys, okay?"

Despite your understanding and playful reassurance, the disappointment lingered. As the team discussed logistics and profiles, Hotch's mind wandered momentarily, reflecting on the personal sacrifices that came with his role at the FBI.

Suddenly, Garcia's voice snapped him back to reality. "Hotch, you seem more down about this trip than usual. Anything you want to share with the class?" Her tone was lightly teasing but underscored with genuine concern.

Hotch cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. "It's nothing," he started to dismiss, hoping to steer back to the case details.

But Garcia, ever perceptive, wouldn't let it go that easily. She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. "No, no, no, this has to be something good. Wait! Did you meet someone on the dating app?"

The room quieted, all eyes suddenly on Hotch. The surprise on his team's faces was palpable, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Hotch sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he realized there was no dodging Garcia's sharp intuition. "Yes, I met someone."

"And I can tell he's incredibly happy," Garcia added, her voice squealing with excitement, filling the room with her infectious energy.

The team erupted in a mixture of chuckles and supportive remarks. "Hotch on a dating app, now that's something I didn't see coming," Morgan commented with a grin.

Rossi raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mock seriousness. "So, this is serious then?"

"It's...going well," Hotch admitted, allowing himself a small moment of vulnerability in front of his team. "And yes, I'm happy. It's just hard balancing the job with personal life sometimes. I forgot how difficult it is to cancel on someone you--someone you're starting to care a lot about."

The team's demeanor softened, understanding the conflict Hotch felt. Prentiss leaned in, her voice gentle. "We get it, Hotch. But it sounds like she does too. That's a good sign, right?"

Hotch nodded, appreciative of the support. "It is. She's very understanding. Makes it a bit easier."

Garcia beamed, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Oh, I need to know everything. When we get back, you're giving me details, Hotch. Deal?"

Hotch couldn't help but laugh, the sound rare enough to cause a few surprised looks. "Deal, Garcia."

After all, he did feel like he owed Garcia…so much in this moment for if it wasn’t for her, he’d never had met you.

Throughout the duration of a challenging and complex case, Aaron Hotchner found moments of reprieve through the buzz of his phone. Each notification a reminder of the intriguing connection he’d developed with you. 

Your texts, infused with lightness and wit, became small beacons of joy amid the high-pressure environment of his work.

One evening, as he and the team were wrapping up a long day of interviews and evidence analysis, Hotch’s phone vibrated with a new message from you. He glanced around--most of the team was absorbed in their tasks--and allowed himself a moment to read your text.

"Thinking of a proper celebration for when you get back...Maybe we can explore the possibility of moving past just kisses? I have a few ideas I think you’d approve of..."

The message was smooth, playful yet suggestive, and it caught Hotch off guard. He felt a flush of warmth spread through him, a mixture of anticipation and slight disarray, emotions he usually kept neatly compartmentalized.

Sitting back in his chair, Hotch let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh. 

It was rare for him to connect with someone so deeply that thoughts of them could so easily unsettle his usual stoic demeanor. Yet, you did just that, and he found himself not only accepting this new dynamic but eagerly looking forward to what it promised.

He typed a response, his fingers pausing above the keyboard as he considered how best to reply. Finally, he settled on a message that matched your playful tone while still holding onto his inherent reserved nature.

"Exploring new possibilities sounds like an excellent plan. I’ll look forward to your ideas... very much so."

Sending the text, Hotch felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was an unfamiliar sensation to look forward to personal plans with such anticipation, but it was one he found increasingly appealing.

As he pocketed his phone and returned his focus to the case files spread out before him, Hotch’s thoughts momentarily drifted to what awaited him upon his return. The prospect of deepening his relationship with you brought a sense of excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Even amidst the demanding rhythms of his job, Hotch found himself counting down the days until he could see you again, eager to explore the new dimensions of their relationship. The playful, flirtatious exchanges were more than just brief escapes from his responsibilities; they were reminders of the burgeoning connection that might just redefine his understanding of balance between his dedication to his work and his personal life.

After wrapping up the demanding case, Hotch found himself outside your apartment, his anticipation a palpable presence within him. He had been thinking about this moment throughout the flight back--about you, about the promise of what lay ahead. The door opened to your welcoming smile, and any remaining trace of professional tension melted away as he stepped inside.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could leave work at the door. 

The evening unfolded effortlessly, as if every moment were simply meant to be. Dinner was a shared endeavor, filled with laughter and gentle touches that spoke louder than words. As the night deepened, so did the connection between you, pulling you both inevitably toward a more intimate closeness that felt both exhilarating and utterly right.

Later, wrapped in the warmth and softness of your bed, Hotch lay beside you, his arm securely around you, feeling the comforting weight of your head against his chest. The room was quiet, the only sound the gentle breath of two people content in each other's presence. It was a profound intimacy that Hotch had rarely allowed himself to experience, yet with you, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You know," Hotch began, his voice soft and thoughtful, "I never imagined that downloading an app would lead me here, to this moment. But I'm incredibly glad it did."

You shifted slightly, turning to face him. In the dim light, he noticed a hint of shyness in your expression--an unusual trait for someone usually so vibrant and confident. "Aaron, I need to tell you something, and I’m a little afraid it might be too soon...or…or how you might react."

He tightened his embrace reassuringly. "Sweetheart, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

You nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking. "It's just that...I've never connected with anyone like this before. Not from a dating app, not in real life. Like I feel crazy. And it scares me a little because I think I’m falling in love with you."

Hotch’s heart skipped a beat, not just at your words but at the earnest vulnerability with which you spoke them. For a brief moment, he was speechless, overwhelmed by the depth of his own feelings that mirrored yours.

"I’ve been trying to make sense of it all myself," he confessed, his voice a whisper against your hair. "This isn’t just unusual for me; it’s unprecedented. But hearing you say that...it’s exactly how I feel. I’m falling in love with you, too."

Relief and joy mingled in your eyes, and you moved closer, pressing a kiss to his chest--a simple, sweet gesture that sealed the words just shared. Hotch felt a profound peace settle over him, the kind that came from finding something real and true.

As you both lay there, entwined in the quiet aftermath of shared revelations, the world outside seemed inconsequential. In that room, with the soft glow of the nightlight casting gentle shadows, Aaron Hotchner wasn’t just an FBI agent or a guarded widower; he was a man deeply in love, grateful for every unpredictable twist of fate that had led him to you.

"You know," you whispered, a playful twinkle returning to your voice, "this is going to make a great story someday--how a skeptical FBI agent fell for a girl from a dating app."

Hotch chuckled, the sound rich and content. "It’s a story I look forward to telling again and again," he agreed, pulling you closer. 

As days turned into months, Hotch experienced a transformation in his daily life--a lightness and joy that were new and profoundly delightful. 

Your relationship flourished; the connection deepened with each passing moment you spent together. Jack met you and took an immediate liking to you, his youthful judgment never faltering. The integration of you into his and Jack’s life felt seamless, natural, like pieces of a puzzle that had been waiting to find their place.

You were fiercely independent and career-driven, qualities that resonated deeply with Hotch. The balance between your professional pursuits and personal life mirrored his own, creating a perfect symmetry that allowed both of you to thrive without sacrificing the bond growing between you.

Reflecting on this, Hotch couldn’t help but think back to several months ago when his team, especially Penelope Garcia, had pushed him to step out into the dating world. He was immensely grateful for their encouragement--grateful that Garcia had practically coerced him into using the dating app that brought you together.

Once (and due to his line of work, pretty much always will be) a skeptic of dating apps, he now sung its praise, in a…cautious way. It was praised enough that in a very Rossi-fashion, David Rossi bought stock in the app, Hotch and your love story solidifying the need to. 

Now, seated at his desk in the quiet hum of the FBI offices, Hotch decided to express his love and appreciation in a tangible way. He opened a florist’s website, browsing through the selections to find something that captured the essence of what you meant to him. 

Settling on a bouquet of wildflowers--bright, beautiful, and unpretentiously elegant--he filled out the delivery form to send them to your workplace. The note attached was simple but heartfelt: "For no reason other than I love you. Aaron."

With a contented sigh, Hotch then organized a second floral arrangement, this one for Garcia. He chose vibrant sunflowers and daisies, flowers as bright and cheerful as Garcia herself. The note for her was equally thoughtful: "Penelope, thank you for pushing me onto that (still questionable) app. I am forever grateful. - Hotch."

As he confirmed the orders, his colleague Morgan passed by his desk, noticing the slight smile on Hotch’s usually stoic face. "What's got you looking so happy, Hotch? That doesn't look like case work."

Hotch looked up, the smile still playing on his lips. "Can’t I just take a moment to appreciate the good things, Morgan?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Good things, huh? Does this have anything to do with that special lady I’ve been hearing about?"

"You could say that," Hotch replied, his tone light, an uncommon but genuine warmth evident in his expression. "And I’m also sending Garcia some flowers."

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Man, Garcia’s matchmaking really worked out for you, didn’t it? Never thought I'd see the day. She’s never going to let this one down."

"It did," Hotch acknowledged, his thoughts drifting back to you. "And it’s made all the difference."

After Morgan left, Hotch leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a few moments of quiet reflection. He felt a profound sense of gratitude--not just for the love and joy you brought into his life, but for the unexpected journey that led him to you. 

It was a reminder of the unpredictable beauty of life, how sometimes, taking a chance could lead to something extraordinary. 

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

[gatorbites-imagines]

Omni-man being defeated in battle and subsequently dominated? Maybe the trophy wife concept you mentioned in the NSFW alphabet for him?? I just love him

Nolan Grayson x Galactus inspired male reader

Headcanons

Imagine a big evil smirk growing on my face when I saw this request. set somewhere after Nolan leaves earth and Mark has taken Oliver back to earth.

Readers inspired by Galactus. Because I go apeshit for extreme size differences. I wanted this to be smutty, but it just ended up getting kinda cracky...

had a lot of fun writing this reader, would love to write him again.

You were an ancient immortal being known for devouring planets for power, feared across the universe and multiverse. You fought many battles with the people of viltrum, mainly because of how powerful you were and how much of a threat you posed. Of course, they never won, which wounded their ego.

But at some point, you guys struck a deal. You would stop attacking them and they would stop attacking you. You guys would stay out of each other’s way and territory. Sometimes they would even offer you planets if your heralds found it worthy of consumption.

How Nolan fell into your lap could happen in many ways, but I find the most interesting being him leaving Andressa and Thraxa. Maybe he travels so far, he succumbs to exhaustion like when he left earth, and he just happens to fall right into your giant palm.

You weren’t mindlessly evil, but you weren’t good either. And the small violent viltrumites had always intrigued you. You had always wanted one of them to be a herald of yours, but you also knew you wouldn’t have their loyalty.

Nolan would wake up well rested and healed, curled up on a hard purple surface which he would later realize is your palm. You had been floating through the universe simply holding him like one would hold a little bird or mouse, or maybe more a small vulnerable flower petal.

Nolan has most likely lived long enough to have fought you before, so he knows who you are, what you can do, and the deals he’s broken by ending up in your territory. Maybe hes just too depressed to care about himself, his people, anything.

To you, hes kind of like a little pathetic creature, like how we see a baby animal missing a leg and coo, wanting to keep it and care for it. well, maybe its more like you want to own him. A being like yourself don’t experience emotions like everyone else, but there’s interest.

It’s a bit sad to see a viltrumite so wilted and weakened. You had expected a fight, and order your heralds to try and goad him into one so you can crush his will yourself. But Nolan just sits on your palm with a blank look in his eyes, even as you devour planets right in front of him.

The whole “wife” process kind of starts up after Nolan and you have shared silence for a while, who knows how long. The universe is vast, and you guys just keep moving from one planet to the next.

Maybe he just starts telling you about his life on earth, his wife, or wives, his sons, how he’s starting to think everything he’s learned maybe isn’t right. How he’s tired and feels like he doesn’t have a purpose.

In the beginning you offer to make him one of your heralds, but being able to enter people’s minds you also pick through his memories, wants and deeper wishes.

A being like yourself has never had much interest in a spouse, at least after ascending into what you are now. There is the fact that you will exist until the universe ends completely, how you travel the dark emptiness of space, and how you are one of the most evil beings in the universe, if others ask.

Sliding the mental image into Nolans head, of being your so called “wife” is the first time you get a major reaction out of him. Maybe its viltrumite instinct or his own pride, but he wont just take it laying down.

Fighting him isn’t a challenge for you, you could have crushed him very easily, but you make it seem like you put in an effort to calm whatever struggles Nolan might have in his mind. It’s only after you’ve defeated him, and there’s literally nothing else he can do that Nolan will shyly agree.

To him theres no life to return to, so why not live out that little fantasy of his. It’s not like you’ll demand him to do more carnal wifely acts… right?

(spoiler, you will, but that comes later when you guys gain a deeper more intense attraction to each other. And when that time comes Nolan agrees very willingly)

In the beginning there isn’t really any change in the relationship you guys already had. Being a literal cosmic being means you normally don’t feel a lot of carnal urges or wants, so it’s all up to Nolan to make a move.

You visiting Herald almost choked when they saw Nolan floating up to your massive face and kiss your lips, even if he only is able to kiss your bottom lip.

The other Heralds also have a similar reaction when you start referring to Nolan as your wife. They can’t question you, and some of them just give Nolan a “good luck” and are on their way.

You don’t really care whatsoever about gendered terms, and as much as Nolan blushes and denies it, your mental bond lets you feel how much he likes being called Wife.

Its digging around Nolans mind that you see his deeper fantasies and start bringing out the things that go along with it. like, materializing a skimpy “slave” outfit for him, in purple and blue of course so he matches you.

When you order him to shave his beard Nolan almost, almost, blows up and starts arguing. But deep down he also knows its what he wants, to disconnect himself completely from who he was before and just allowing himself to be someone new.

At some point you start referring to him as your “viltrum slave” and later just “slave wife” because it gets Nolan really excited, if you know what I mean. Being mentally connected means that Nolans pleasure is your pleasure. You technically could shrink and enjoy the throes of the body with him, but being so much bigger excites both of you.

It does worsen your already horrible image somewhat, and give people stupid ideas. Planets start trying to offer you women, or their species version of it, to try and make you leave their planet. Its always denied though.

When planets realize you don’t want women, they start trying to offer you “wives” that look like Nolan, which just makes Nolan pissed, because he’s as possessive as you. On those planets you let him indulge in his viltrumite urge for destruction, before you devour it.

Nolan will regularly forget just how strong he is when he’s around you and your heralds. They start referring to him as your “pet” or “wife” too, just playing into Nolans little fantasy. And who are you to stop them? Happy wife, happy life.

This also just means that Nolan can shock himself by wiping out entire planets in hours. In the past it might have taken months or weeks, but with the cosmic powers from you as well, nobody really stands a chance.

It will be very fun if rumors get back to earth somehow that you have “kidnapped and enslaved” a rogue viltrumite. I’m not sure they’d send anyone to save Nolan, but they gotta live with that.

Maybe you pull up to earth for one reason or another. Big chance its because your scantily dressed wife has been fantasizing about this one gelato Nolan used to eat on the regular, so of course you have to go get it.

You could have sent your heralds or just teleported maybe Nolan to do it but… you want to go on a date…

So, you shrink from “I swallow planets whole” size to “im big enough to knock down this skyscraper” size, and just… appear on earth. Cue huge chaos and extreme fear, because you can’t tell me Cecil wouldn’t know of you at least.

Cue guardians of the globe pulling up, and someone, probably Rex, going “hold up… isn’t that your dad?” to Mark, because of course Nolan is sitting all pretty and “enslaved” looking on your shoulder.

The whole “slave” outfit also put these shackle looking things around Nolans wrists and ankles, as well as a collar, to make it look like you were somehow suppressing his powers. Sometimes they actually did that if you wanted them too. Most of the time it was for looks.

Its… very awkward. Nolan would be embarrassed if he hadn’t wiped out an entire planet wearing only a purple bra and panties once. This one is at least more like Leias slave outfit than the almost nonexistent stuff you sometimes had him wear.

Theres a chance its more surprising to see Nolan without his moustache honestly, than it is seeing him in the bra and fabric ensemble.

I have a feeling you would, in your powerful godly cosmic entity voice, booming loud enough for the entire state to hear, tell mark that he may refer to you as stepfather, if he would like.

Someone, Rex, would start wheezing so hard with laughter he would struggle not to pass out. I have a feeling most of the guardians would start snickering, except for the more serious ones like Rudy, who knows you could snuff them all out if you wanted.

For some comedy and crack, Debbie gives you, devourer of planets and immortal cosmic being, the shovel talk. Nolan is impressed that you seem more attentive to her words than entire planets begging for mercy.

Nolan doesn’t return to earth, or to Debbie or anything, but you do offer your stepson (Mark groans and covers his face), that you will help him out if he needs it. you also offer to play baseball with him, or take him to “the game” (you still don’t really understand what that is), for family bonding.

You keep eating planets, Nolan keeps being your little trophy wife, but maybe the ending of this universe won’t be the same as in the comics, since Mark now has his “sigh… step father” on his side. You and Nolan just keep being a happy married couple, in whatever way someone like you two can be.

[lezuhlee]

okokok last thing before bed,,,

Thinking about college!au Sevika who throws discus and hammer for her school’s track and field team. She stays to herself and doesn’t really spend time with the rest of the people on the time because she doesn’t really care to. That’s until you show up to practice one day announcing that you’re shadowing the athletic trainer for the rest of the season to get some experience in the field. Sevika perks up at the sight of you and kinda does a 180°. She talks at practice now, jokes around when she gets the chance, (flexes hard asf when she sees you walking by) etc etc. When the next out of town meet came around she found herself praying the night before that you would somehow end up sitting near her on the bus. Luck seemed to be on her side as you actually ended up nestled right beside her in the back! She’s sort of panicking now though, she’s never been this close to you before and you smell really good? And your eyes are so pretty? And wow your voice is so nice??? Yeah she’s going kinda crazy and the more you guys talk the weirder she feels in her chest. Sevika then goes to throw some of her best distances yet and everyone jokes that you’re a good luck charm for her. You laugh it off, but Sevika is fully convinced of it and makes sure to talk to you more before her meets.

You both get closer and closer as the season goes by and Sevika feels like she’s gonna explode. You help her stretch every now and then when she subtly complains about her shoulder feeling weird and it drives her crazy. She kinda falls into a trance when your hands meet her shoulders and she immediately relaxes and lets her mind wonder off. She’s most definitely not thinking about you touching her somewhere else. You’ve picked up on the way she acts around you now, and you think it’s so cute. You might do something about it when the season’s over….

I love sporty sevika pls save me sporty sevika

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part - 26 | 27 — authors note at the end!

masterlist

hard launch: officially announcing that you’re in a relationship; an explicit and purposeful announcement of a romantic relationship, usually on social media.

rafecam

liked by sarahfan101, sarahupdates and 126,092 others

rafecam cats outta the bag 🤔

view comments

sarahcameron fina-fucking-llyyyyyyy!

yourusername i love u

rafecam i love u most

sarahfan101 crying

sarahupdates congratulations 👏

heywardpope what? really? i didn’t know that!

jjmaybank are you serious rn

heywardpope sarcasm idiot

topthornton okay maybe you’re cute

user I KNEW IT

user2 i feel like i’ve been cheated on

your story

sarahcameron replied to your story:

what made him so lucky to get YOU EVERY NIGHT 😩😩😩😩

itscleo replied to your story:

you’re actually adorable i’ll cry

after the public announcement of your relationship, your life finally started to fall into place with rafe right in the centre of it.

within weeks you’d given up one of your drawers in your wardrobe, for the blue-eyed boy to keep his clothes. he’d basically become a permanent resident at your grandparents’ home; helping them around the house wherever possible.

the pogues grew more and more fond of rafe, and he eventually settled in nicely into your hangouts every now and again.

everything was perfect.

a timeline of your instagram since (over the course of about a year)…

yourusername

liked by sarahcameron, itscleo and 65,725 others

yourusername she got a boyfriend

view comments

sarahcameron girlfriend***

rafecam excuse me

johnbr yeah excuse me

user if you look closely im crying in the back

user2 i acc love them

yourusername

liked by jjmaybank, rafecam and 92,732 others

yourusername black and white

view comments

rafecam my baby

user ARGHHHHHH

sarahcameron OKAYYYYYY

heywardpope y’all are cute

boykelce rafe so whipped we ain’t played golf in 3 weeks

sarahfan101 poor golf deprived kelce

your story

liked by rafecam and 65 others

yourusername

liked by rafecam, sarahcameron and 150,625 others

yourusername 🍼

view comments

sarahcameron omg i am crying

sarahcameron i can’t wait to be an aunt

yourusername you’ll be the best aunt ever

jjmaybank me and pope gonna be uncles right????

heywardpope please y/n, please rafe

rafecam gonna get my baby stealing from the country club

jjmaybank you bet

kiaracarrera congratulations beautiful ❤️

itscleo i can’t believe it!!!!!

jjmaybank baby pogue baby pogue

topthornton someone tell him this baby ain’t a pogue

user WHAT OMG

sarahfan101 we lost him gang

sarahupdates omg congrats!

rafecam

liked by yourusername, sarahcameron and 253,072 others

rafecam baby mama

view comments

user that should be ME

sarahfan101 STOP

sarahcameron y’all gonna be the best parents ever

yourusername i love doing life with you

rafecam i love you

boykelce congrats bro

when nan and pops found out the news they were more than ecstatic. tears flooded their eyes, at the idea of welcoming a great grandbaby.

their happiness radiated throughout the home, and they invited rafe to move in…

your grandparents were the best help along the way, making sure everything was perfect for the arrival of your baby.

a/n: you’re probably sat there thinking what was that!?

in all honesty, i’ve really fallen out of love with this smau, and i’d dint want to just post saying ‘hey it’s over!’, so i thought i’d give you the happy ending you all deserve.

thank you for supporting me through my first piece of writing, it’s been a rollercoaster. there’s been highs and lows, and i’m so grateful for the experience.

for now, i’m going to dabble in one-shot writing, making sure my next fic is actually a lot more prepared and thought out!

thank you all for reading… this won’t be the last you’ll hear from me!

massive thank you to my taglist also!!!

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101 @akobx @lossfairy @marleymarleymarleymarley @jjmaybankmylovee @mbella607 @scream4mami @mrsdrewstarkeyy @honeyluvsatj @rafegetinmybed @hypnotizedstarkey

[girlyrafe]

──── ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴍᴇᴛ .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 ❝ ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀꜱ¡ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ⟡ ݁₊ ❞ 

⌗ with rafe cameron .ᐟ.ᐟ

ᝰ summary .ᐟ Rafe cameron meets you, the farmers daughter for the first time and well—well you kinda change his life

₊ ⊹ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Rafe Cameron, Rafe was a typically hard-working guy, but this job at your dad's farm definitely changed his work ethic, and it’s all down to you.

For the first few days of his job, Rafe didn’t even know you existed. That was, until he heard the sound of raised voices, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone crying from inside the house. He wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his worn jeans, feeling the weight of the heat and the long hours of farm work. He walked around the front of the house, unsure of what to expect.

Before he could fully process what was happening, you came bursting out of the door, slamming it behind you. Tears streaked down your face, and your lip trembled as you stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest. That pout of yours, so undeniably cute and full of frustration, stopped him dead in his tracks. You were on a mission, and in the rush of your emotions, you almost collided with him.

“Whoa there, kid.” He chuckled a little, and his large, calloused hands found your shoulders; Jesus, you were pretty, especially in this cotton pyjama set with your hair in two braids, and you looked like an angel.

You had to tilt your head back to look up at him, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world—especially when you realised just how handsome he was. He had that rugged charm, the kind that made him hard to ignore. His soft, dirty blonde bangs fell into his eyes no matter how many times he pushed them back, adding to the boyish yet rugged look. His arms were strong, muscles clearly defined beneath his worn shirt, and the sheen of sweat on his skin only made him appear even more imposing.

You sniffled, trying to find the words. “Are you... you work for my daddy, right?”

Rafe nodded, his expression softening just a bit as he gave you a reassuring smile.

Before you know it, he's gently guiding you into the barn, the soft crunch of hay beneath your feet. He helps you sit on one of the hay bales, his presence warm and steady as he kneels in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs in a comforting way. He crosses his arms over them, a protective, tender gesture, while you spill out everything—crying, ranting about the argument with your dad, about how much you hate him, how unfair everything feels. Rafe listens quietly, not taking it too seriously, because let's be real, most teenagers go through phases like this—especially when their parents won’t drive them into town. He gets it. After all, it’s not your fault you were born on a farm.

You didn't even notice the way he moved the rough pads of his thumbs under your eyes, brushing away the tears while you rambled, and he just nodded and let out a few "mhms." To keep you going

Later that night he started to feel guilty, creepy even, because you were just some innocent teenage girl, even if you were probably 16 or 17: a cute one at that, like really gorgeous and pretty with your pout and sassy mannerisms towards what your father had an argument with you about, and those eyes were hypnotic in the way they were so huge and deep even with tears. While he was, well, he was a man in his late 20s working for your father, but it was fine, right? He was only being a nice guy to someone that was upset. Sure he’d told himself that...

Sure that’s why in the dead of night all that could be heard from his room, thankfully a cabin away from the main house farm was loud whimpers and heavy breathes as he fisted his throbbing cock into his now boring hand, lip bleeding from how hard he’s biting down on it and eyes squeezed to tightly shut trying to stop anything from the real world invading his visions of you. Also trying to imagine this was your delicate hand wrapped around his cock right now as you innocently asked if you were doing good.

So, that’s how Rafe met you—so effortlessly, and yet, it sent his world into a dizzying spiral. He couldn’t help but think about you constantly, imagining all the ways he could be with you. You were so sweet, so innocent, with your soft words and that carefree way you moved. But it wasn't just the gentle side of you that stuck in his mind. No, there were those other moments—like when you’d wave goodbye, skipping out the front door in that little gingham dress that clung just enough to tease him, a glimpse of the curve of your ass making his heart race.

Sometimes, he'd catch himself groaning under his breath, quickly readjusting before you noticed, his mind wandering to places it probably shouldn’t. You were everything to him—sweet and soft, but with an undeniable magnetism that left him tangled in thoughts of you every second, especially when you went off to feed the animals, speaking to them so softly, as if they were the only ones who could understand you.

He's sure he would never work as hard again as long as you’re around.

But nothing could even happen, right?

[wakeup01]

Dronezoned

“As you can see here, the ancient Egyptians once believed that mummification was a form of…” The narrator droned on from the television speaker.

“Sigh.” Rae bemoaned next to you on the couch, with exasperation. “Bud, I hate to say it, but I think I’m demoting you to drone status.” The TV suddenly switches off, half way through the latest episode of ‘Historic World’.

“What….I….why?” You sit up in a panic and glance across at your young friend. You had met him a couple of months back and found him immediately charming, and admittedly, rather cute. But it quickly became clear how high maintenance and demanding the 24 year old could be. A fact that was solidified when he had described his expectations of his friends, and the consequences of letting him down.

He turns towards you momentarily, his piercing eyes affording you a second of their time before he leans back and stretches his arms. “Look, you’re just not great ‘best friend’ material. Weekly episodes of ‘Historic World’ topped with yet another superhero movie? Death would be a more exciting prospect. Face it, you’re kinda boring.” Rae places a hand softly upon your shoulder, as if he was delivering bad news about a family member. “Even Charlie had more going for him, and he liked painting those little models. Now? Now he’s a drone that likes being my big butt’s seat. You understand.” Rae smiled at you warmly, it was a look that scarcely disguised the weight of his words.

“No—please! I can do better. Give me a chance to prove myself. I don’t want to be like the oth—others.” You stammer erratically, recalling the time he proudly showed you his previous bff ‘rejects’. Imagining the same thing happening to you causes you to shudder.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. ‘Give me a chance to prove myself’. Wah wah. Dull as dishwater dude. I gave you a shot and it just doesn’t work.” Rae explains with fake resignation, slowly getting to his feet. “Oh well, let’s get this over with then.”

“Just wait. Bud—we can work this-“

*snap*

Your pleas immediately screech to a holt, like slamming the brakes at a red light. His snapping fingers inexplicably steal your undivided attention. Your eyes going crosseyed at his outstretched hand.

“Engage. Stand up.” You go to laugh, but your legs involuntarily lift you from the couch. “Good. Face towards me.”

“R—Rae! What’s ha—happening? Why am—“

“Talking mode off.” Your mouth snaps shut the second the words leave his lips. “Dude. I kinda thought this might be the case. I had you chipped about a month back. You know, when you thought you got stung by a bee. God, you were annoying then too.”You wriggle slightly on the spot as he openly chastises your apparent ‘inadequacies’. “Makes this whole tedious ordeal much easier. Now, come on, be a good drone and take those clothes off before we both die from sheer boredom.”

You tell yourself you will absolutely not strip in front of your attractive friend. What you tell yourself and what your body does, however, is a different matter. Your hands feverishly remove every item of clothing as if you were on fire.

“I’ve never seen you move with such excitement before. Sure you’re not into this already? Your dick is hard bud, how humiliating.” You blush as you feel cold air brush against your nethers. “Hm? Maybe you want to be my ddf, my dumb drone forever? Hehe.” He teases while trying to hold back a wide grin.

He walks up to your frozen body and snaps a metal ring like device around your neck. It tightens against your body. “Trust me dude, you’ll be much better like this. More…interesting.” Your eyes follow a shimmering wave of squeaking rubber as it travels down from your neck, passing over your chest and stretching over your groin. Turning everything it touches into smooth plastic. Your dick begins to swell to a unbelievable size, feeling like the most intense erection of your life. Your cock embarrassingly hardens, bounces and slaps against your stomach. You see the flared tip pointing up at you, the sunlight reflecting off its unnatural surface. There was no denying it, it looked like a plastic sex toy. For all intents and purposes, your dick was a huge rubber dildo. Your veins were moulded onto the shape.

The wave travels all the way down to your feet, encasing your toes in the slick substance. Your new shiny skin felt too tight for your body, as if it was being vacuumed sealed. It pushes on you until your physique begins to match the other drones Rae had shown you. Giving you a basic set of abs on a slim frame, and inflating your butt into a firm round bubble. Rae sure had a type…

The rubber slips between your enlarged butt cheeks and invades your entrance. Your insides are coated and ribbed, becoming a slick chute with a clear purpose. Your body instinctively pushes your hips out, making your rear entrance spread out enticingly behind you. The humorous pose - much to your own chagrin, felt comfortable and befitting for your newly uneven body proportions. You were essentially a living fuck doll, inside and out.

Humiliating as it was - standing to attention, with your butt on display at your friend’s whims; you really needed to cum. You’d surrender just about anything right now to blow a load. You needed relief from this aching, pulsing sensation that racked the space between your legs. Teetering on the edge, a single touch would cause you to explode. Hell, a light breeze would probably suffice. The dull throbbing made your groin subtly rut back and forth at the air, trying to find some feedback.

Attempting to keep yourself together, you momentarily shake away the pleasure coming from your dildo. You cringe as you look pleadingly at Rae, praying that he’ll reconsider. Or maybe just let you cum at least…

“No, no this doesn’t work for me. Bleh. Sorry bud, but I’m revoking your facial privileges.”

‘My what’, you think, before the answer quickly presents itself. The sensation was like no other, feeling your lips meld together, ears flattening against your head. And then, then your face effortlessly smoothes over, like a wave washing over it, blurring all the details as your features fade into the rubber. The hair on your scalp slips free and falls to the carpet like a wig. Your face had been left completely blank, like a mannequin.

“Go on, feel it. It’s amazing.”

On request, your fingers run across your face. Your plasticised skin is incredibly sensitive. Senses had seemingly been enhanced. Every touch sends a jolt to your oversized dick. You desperately try and find your mouth, your nose….your eyes. But it’s like stroking the surface of a rubber ball. You had been stripped of your identity! A burst of anxiety overwhelms you, but at the same time, a weird sense of contentment. Your face, it was, it was gone. Blank. Anonymous. Smooth. Smooth. So unbelievably smooth. It felt….nice.

“Let’s see…you look the part. Now lets demote that whole ‘friendship’ status. I think you’re ready to be wiped. That ‘blah’ personality needs to go. Say goodbye ‘bud’. Drone. Purge.”

For a millisecond you wonder what he means and then your back stiffens like a plank, the most intense pleasure shoots up your groin and is expelled out of your rubberised dildo dick.

PURGE.

You climax on command. Cum splashes across your sleek chest and showers around you. Your mind is drowned in a fuzzy haze of pure horniness, one that shows no sign of clearing. A whirlpool swirls in your head, washing away the thoughts caught in its pull. No post nut clarity greets you as you lose yourself to the emptiness. Quite literally lose yourself, your identity and everything you ever held true squirted out of your dildo. Your dull, barely noteworthy personality dribbling down onto the floor into an embarrassingly small pool.

P U R G E.

You attempt to think, to think of anything. To bring forth a single concept, an idea. But it’s all for naught. There is *nothing* to think about. Not a single idea left in your brainwashed head. Quite literally washed, washed clean. Your mind is stuffed with pure nothingness, thoughtlessness, an overwhelming absence that fills you to your core and becomes everything you are and ever will be. You are no longer a person, an ‘It’. A thing. A husk. ‘You’ are gone.

YOU ARE PURGED.

YOU ARE DRONE.

IT IS ACTIVATED.

“Drone wiped.” A monotone voice announces. Yours? It sounded like it was coming out of a small speaker. After all, drones don’t have mouths. “Relationship demotion complete. Drone status achieved.”

“Geez. About time…” your fr—master groans, rolling his eyes.

The concept of ‘friend’ was now unknown to you, friendship was something between two equals. You were not equal. A single word takes precedent over your mind. OWNER. He was your owner. A master of charm and taste. He was perfect in every conceivable way. Every facet of his being was mesmerising. You were awestruck to even share the same space as him. He was everything. And you were just his simple drone.

“Yeah, this suits you much better. What’s your new designation, drone?”

“Drone AS032. Sir.”

“Yeaaaaaahhh. I’m not gonna remember all that. I guess I could write it down, but eh. Why bother? I gave up on distinguishing my individual drones a while back. There’s just too many at this point. You’ll all identical anyway.” He shrugs apathetically.

“Of course S—Sir” You reply, stuttering slightly. Was that really all you were? All you were…to him? Surely you were better than all the others. You feel a sudden swell of concern hit you, something felt wrong.

“Oh. Still resisting there? Impressive, but I know a little trick that’ll help. Wanna see?” Rae steps forward and then reaches down to your groin. With a loud *pop* he removes your ridiculous looking cock. Simultaneously, you feel a similar pop in your head, like a radical change in air pressure. It felt amazing, a permanent sensation of being high. Floating like a balloon in the sky, filled with nothing but air. Your doubts dissipate faster than they appeared. Of course you were just a simple toy, how could you think otherwise? Just look at your cock. It was unmistakably a dildo. Your cartoonishly large balls were fused to the base, looking full. You could feel them in his hand, his fingers brushing over the hardened surface. Every touch was a lesson in frustration; feeling on the cusp of relief but the possibility being completely denied. Without the phallic protrusion, your groin was just smooth shiny plastic with an unremarkable bump.

“Cock toy detached.” You announce redundantly, while Rai marvels at your enlarged plastic rod. He places it down beside the couch, the tip pointing straight up as it sits on the flat base.

“See, that’s better. Drone. Activate service mode.” A pleasant tingle converges on your head, filling it with an intense desire of subservience. To submit without question. “Loosen rear entry. Hm, you’re so much more interesting like this. Don’t you agree Drone?”

“Yes sir. It exists to serve.” You obey, pulling apart your cheeks with your hands as your ribbed pleasure hole automatically stretches wide.

“Whatever. I just need to fuck you and then we’re done.” Rae remarks coldly, removing his clothes. The sight of his bare muscled chest is only a reminder of his superiority, you couldn’t help but feel amazed in its presence. That was doubly true when all 8 inches of his glorious dick rose into view. Unlike your own, his was demonstrably *real*; something you would soon have proven to you firsthand.

“Yes sir.” You repeat. Betraying no hint of personality. Incapable of saying anything else. Your body leans forward slightly while master Rae’s hands roughly grip your sides. Whatever small part of your old self that might remain is about to be fucked, fucked throughly out of existence. That little voice - no longer in control, would have to sit and watch themselves be initiated into their new role as a glorified sex doll.

“Darn. I always forget something.” Master bends you further over, and then subsequently pushes something cold against your hips. “A drone isn’t complete without fuck handles. You know, for when you get FUCKED.” You don’t see them, but you can feel a set of pliable rubber bars fuse to your body. His fingers then wrap around them, positioning you like you were a mere toy. The anticipation was palpable.

And then it just happens. Without a word, Rae dispassionately fucks you from behind. His thick cock easily sliding back and forth without resistance. Only the plapping of your plastic rear echoes in the room. He uses you in the same way one would use a fleshlight. That was basically what you were after all. With a lone grunt, master unceremoniously cums inside you, his seed filling up your rear cavity. He hastily pulls out and lets his juice slowly slide out from between your huge round cheeks. You continue to just stand there, joyously being debased as you feel your hole become frustratingly empty. Empty like your head.

“Well done, drone. Here’s a reward.” The compliment lit your tiny world alight with satisfaction.

With a sudden jolt, Master Rae kindly pushes your own dildo cock into your rear, your balls resting against your smooth parted cheeks. You could feel it nestled inside of you, as if you were fucking yourself. It was - to put it simply, an odd sensation. Your body couldn’t help but rock slightly back and forth, pushing your rear outward before clenching around your shaft. The slightest of movements brought about unbelievable pleasure to your hardened rod, but there was still no sign of relief. It did, however, make sure to keep you appropriately docile. You desperately needed to be given instructions.

“It exists to serve.” You admit once again with complete submission to your flawless

owner. He had successfully claimed you as his own. Standing with your legs together and your cock throbbing inside your ass.

“Sigh. I guess. Drone…footstool mode.” Rae utters with pure indifference as he sits back down on the couch, turning the television on again. “At least now you have some use.”

“And that’s how they became what pop culture commonly refers to them as…” The shows flat narrator continues before the channel quickly switches, being replaced by the sounds of a loud action scene and gunfire bouncing around the room.

“Yes sir.” You fall to your knees in front of him as he leans back in his seat. Your dildo is lodged further up your hole. His legs lift and rest his big feet on your nulled face. Even without a physical nose you can still smell his sweaty boy soles. You were proud he deemed you worthy of such a honour. The scent makes your dildo cock rhythmically pulse inside you. Your body locks into position, seizing up like a statue. Your arms lifting up to hold his legs in place. He turns the television up and completely disregards your existence below him as he taints you with his foot stench. You were just happy to be of use to your master. To worship him like a god. You would stay here for eternity if he asked you to. Not that you would have a choice anyway.

….

“Oh crap, look at the time. It’s been half an hour already.” Rae sits up, shoving his ripe toes over your head. “Damn. You know where the other drones are kept right? I’m sure there’s space in there for one more mindless, obedient, pathetic reject drone. And hurry up. I’ve got a new best friend candidate coming by and you already stink of feet dude.”

“Yes sir.” You obey, without a hint of hesitation.

“Oh - before I forget, engage mute mode.” He quickly adds, loudly pulling open a bag of chips. As instructed, you say nothing in response. Instead you quietly get up from the ground and begin to move towards a familiar door, a door that just an hour ago would have filled you with dread. Now though, you open it without concern, delivering yourself to your new storage space, walking down the stairs into the dim basement. Every step caused your hips to sway, squeezing your hole around the plastic cock filling your insides. The scent of master Rae still wafts around your face. You hear the sounds of masters other playthings shuffling around in the dark as you join your place amongst them, feeling their smooth blank bodies brush against yours. The crowded room sits in silence, patiently waiting to be of service again. Or until the next boring friend is deservedly added to the group.

After all, he was right - you’re far more interesting like this. Like a dutiful piece of furniture. An object he would - on rare occasions, use to rest his sweaty feet upon or, if you’re lucky, to empty his hefty balls inside of. That was the purpose he deemed fitting for you. That personality you had just got in the way, not that you had much of one to start with. Even still, Master Rae had been very kind to fix that. Purging your boring identity to leave beautifully pristine nothing in its wake.

You feel your own cock shudder inside your gaping rear as you wistfully think of your new owner. At him successfully demoting you to drone status. A sensation obviously shared by the rest of his drones, as they vibrate all around you in bliss - indulging in the joy of sheer emptiness.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Favour or Two

Hey hey! This weekend (Jan 25-26) I’m going to be playing drabble roulette! I’ve curated a list of characters and prompts and I’m spinning the wheel!

Character: Pete Brenner

Prompt: too nice for your own good

Warnings: this drabble includes deceit and dark elements. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+. Please reblog and leave some feedback.

It’s not how you expected the day to go. Or your visit to your parents. All that anticipation to spend the day cooking with your mom and maybe even chatting on the back deck with your dad has fizzled. 

You wouldn’t call it a tragedy, just a change in plans. You have a whole week with your mom and dad, you can do this one small thing. Not that you were given much of a choice. Not by your parents and not by your empathy. 

Pete’s a nice enough guy. He must be if your dad’s letting him crash in his office. Freshly divorced, down on his luck, but still chipper. When you found him on the same couch you spent much of your teenage years lounging on, your confusion had you speechless.  

He explained, he’s just staying for a bit, just long enough to get on his feet. That day, he’s meeting with an investor for his new startup. He only needs a foot in the door and he’ll be out of your parents’ hair in no time. He just needs a ride since his prized mustang decided to pop a tire. 

Your dad’s busy with Hank next door, cleaning the eaves, and your mom’s trying out that new canning recipe and the ingredients need to be used today. So, you’re the only one left. How can you say no, you too are imposing on your parents’ kindness. 

“You’re a gem,” Pete says as he comes out the front door. You pull away from the side of the car and lower your phone. You look at him over the roof of the car as he adjusts his tie, “Not to be a diva, I just need everything perfect.” 

“No problem, ready to go?” You ask. 

“Sure, did I give you the address?” He checks his watch as he approaches the passenger side. The gold shimmers in the sunlight. You can’t help but notice all the expensive things he has. 

“Um, yeah, let me just pull up the map...” you open the door with one hand and drop into the seat as you hit start on the route. The map redirect and you place your phone in the mount. Two hours? “Oh, wow, it’s pretty far.” 

“Oh, I thought your dad mentioned it,” he pulls down the visor and opens the mirror to check his hair.  

You peek over at him as he smooths down the part. He’s older than you, the creases around his eyes suggest mid-forties? Maybe a few years off in either direction. Despite the gap, you’re both in a similar boat; starting out, or over. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you assure him and set your head straight. “How long’s the meeting?” 

“Ah, you know these suits, they’re all ‘time is money’,” he sits back as you buckle your seat belt. You wait as he stays undone, only pull down the strap as you idle the engine. 

“Sure, I guess... you’ll need a ride back?” 

“If you don’t mind. Uh, there’s a cafe not far, maybe you could just waste some time there? I really thought you knew,” he says. 

“Really, it’s fine,” you say as you check your mirror then crane to back out. 

You twist the wheel and head down the street. He rolls down the window and clucks, watching the houses pass. “Me and my wife had a place like this, till she started screw--” he coughs and rolls his shoulders, “sorry, never mind.” 

“Oh, um, I heard... uh, must be hard,” you say. 

“Well, I’m hurt but kinda hate her, you know? I’ve been working myself dry tryna get this thing off the ground and she’s sneaking around... I shouldn’t...” he puts his hands up. “I’m sure you got better things going on. How about you? Special guy waiting for you to get back home?” 

You make a face at the road, “nope.” 

“Really? Huh, woulda thought... well, you’re young and all that. You probably got dealer’s choice. No need to rush.” 

“Erm, sure,” you laugh dryly. “Guess it’s just not my biggest concern at the moment.” 

“Smart,” he snorts. “Really, don’t jump into it. Take your time.” He leans back and runs his hand over his mouth and the stubbly shadow of a goatee there. “Piece of advice, find someone mature. Someone ready to hunker down.” 

“Um, thanks, I’ll... keep that in mind.” 

You focus on driving. That’s easy. Pete’s friendly but he talks a lot and you’re not always sure how to respond. You don’t quite have enough experience to offer him any advice in return. 

~ 

As promised, there’s a cafe down the block from the skyrise where you drop Pete. He agrees to meet you there when he’s finished. You’re not entirely thrilled at having to wait on him but you told your dad you’d do it. You still owe him for helping you out with your rent. 

You snag a table and a cappucino and settle in. You sink into an ebook on your phone and block out the mill of customers in and out of the shop. You sip on your cappucino until its cold and leave the dregs to rest. 

You yawn and check the time after the third chapter. You stretch as the chairs put a stiffness in your bones. You glance over at the counter where the baristas wipe down the machines. Shoot. You’ve overstayed your welcome. 

You get up to order a muffin so they don’t kick you out. You eat it slowly, peeking back at the door, hoping that Pete will walk in at any second. He said it wouldn’t be long. It’s well into the afternoon. 

You read another chapter and throw out your trash. You should just go back to the car. You head down the street. It’s after five. 

You sit in the driver’s seat and flip through the apps in your phone. You play a swap game for a bit but grow restless. You check the clock again. Why didn’t you get his number? You could call him. 

“Hey,” the passenger door opens and you nearly shriek in fright. Pete bends to poke his head through, “I’m so sorry. Thing’s got... well, uh, I need another favour.” 

“Huh?” You gape at him. 

“Yeah, uh, the suits I was meeting with, they love me.” He drops into the seat and feels around in his suit jacket. “You know, we got to talking. They’re thinking ten mill at least.” 

You blink erratically, barely able to keep track. 

“They suggested dinner and uh, well, one lie led to another, things got a bit messy. I really didn’t want to keep you waiting,” he keeps his hand under his jacket. “Said my wife was waiting on me and uh, they said why don’t I bring her, so yeah.” 

He pulls out a ring. You squint and purse your lips. You’re lost. 

“Just for tonight, alright.” 

“Where--” 

“It’s the one I bought the ex. I know it’s a bit strange but I need this deal. I don’t wanna be a bum on your parents’ couch forever. What about it, please? It’ll be fun and you’ll get a free meal out of it.” 

“Well, uh...” you check the clock. It’s past six and there’s a long way home. Still, his pleading plucks at your heart. You’re not very good at saying no. 

“Alright, I... I’ll do my best.” 

“It’ll be fine. Just smile,” he grabs your hand and shoves the ring on your finger. “Come on.” 

You’re shell shocked. You look down at the gleaming stone then shake your head. You guess this is happening. 

You get out and lock the car. You shove your keys and phone in your purse. He meets you on the pavement and ushers you down the next street. He swoops his arm around you, his hand curling around your hip. You twitch but don’t push him away. It’s just an act. 

He approaches a black facade with pink neon trim. There’s no marquee. It must be pretty upscale, you’ve never been anywhere like that. 

A bouncer waves him in as if he knows them. You don’t think much of it. As you enter, you pass through a black curtain and emerge into a room lit with shades of red, purple, and pink, with spotlights over stages. 

Pete lifts a hand to wave and a table of suited men return the gesture. You gape at the woman dancing on the pole mounted through the table. Oh my god. 

You don’t know what to do. You want to run. You want to elbow him and ask what the fuck. But you can’t. You’re too overwhelmed by the naked flesh and music. 

“Petey boy,” a man with a mustache greets him with a firm handshake, “there she is, the missus.” He stands and greets you with a kiss on the cheek. “You weren’t lying, she is young.” 

“Got a good one, huh?” Another man repeats the first’s overly friendly welcome and you blink dumbly. “Don’t think my wife would step in a place like this.” 

Pete chortles, “we consider it foreplay,” he pulls out a chair and sits. It’s only then that you notice there aren’t any more. “Ain’t that right, honey?” He puts you in his lap and you drop down with a flash of horror in his direction. He leans in and brushes his nose to your cheek and whispers in your ear, “behave or daddy will get a nice picture of you front and centre.” 

Your gaze flicks behind him to the twerking cheeks on the stage and you shudder. You turn back to the other men and try to smile. Pete’s hand rests on your lower back. “She gets a bit shy when she’s horny,” he scoffs and taps the top of your ass. “Now, where were we?” 

You look at the strange men at the table. The pudgier one offers a folded bill to the dancer and she takes it between her teeth. The one with the mustache leers at you as he bites his thumb, and the other tanks a long sip from his glass. 

You’re trapped in disbelief, staring, stuttering. What else can you do but try not to combust? Especially as Pete’s hand crawls up your thigh. 

“Forgive me if I get lost,” he purrs and bites your shoulder. 

“Who could blame you?” The mustachioed leerer growls. “I mean, who cares about numbers? Gonna be a wild night, isn’t it, Pete?” 

[onestepbackwards]

(Self-aware PLA) Imagine if the player manages to get transported into the game and due to not being made of code is just ungodly strong when in the game, like able to fight a pokemon bare-handed kinda strong.

Now imagine they somehow get transported by complete accident and are just out in the wilderness and decide to just become the local cryptid for funsies. Made a costume out of whatever they could get and everything.

So now people think this pokemon that is immune to pokeballs and as strong if not stronger than the nobles is just roaming around Hisui, on the prowl for its next target (meanwhile they're just gushing over a wurmple they found and petting it)

You honestly thought you'd be nothing but chopped liver if you ever ended up in the Pokemon universe.

It wasn't hard to guess why. Humans in the pokemon world constantly not only had a lot of disasters due to pokemon and legendaries-

But even regular day people dealt with injuries from pokemon, as if it were simply a small cut from an irritated cat.

If you owned an electric type pokemon, it was natural to assume you'd at best be accidentally shocked at some point. Shocks normal humans in your world wouldn't survive most likely.

So you thought.

Waking up in Legends Arceus was... more than just a surprise. You had wondered if you hit your head, or had something slipped in your food before you went to bed the night before.

Of course, you feared for your life at first.

You had no Arcphone or map. Or any of your own pokemon.

If it wasn't for the fact you were looking at living breathing pokemon in the distance, you would have thought you'd been kidnapped and dropped in the wilderness somewhere.

So when you had tried to maneuver through the wilds in an attempt to find some sort of land marks, (which was awful, by the way. How the hell were you going to find landmarks when things looked so different from a new perspective?), it was inevitable you would be spotted.

By a Golduck no less. One that seemed especially dead set on beating the rocks out of you.

It had chased you, a lot more vigorously than in game, before you were cornered.

You thought you were a goner, or at least going to get quite the beating.

But you weren't going to go down without a fight, at least. Even if you were terrified.

So when you threw a terrified punch-

...You weren't expecting the poor Golduck to flying like Team Rocket blasting off.

You had looked at your fists in slight horrified wonder, wondering if it was a fluke of some sort.

However, it quickly became clear when another aggressive pokemon had tried to attack you, that your strength was no joke.

You defended yourself, and low and behold, the other pokemon went flying. Any other pokemon in the area immediately backed off, giving you space.

Though when you gently said hello to a Pichu, and carefully gave the curious pokemon a pet, many pokemon seemed to relax.

The aggressive pokemon though, definitely still gave you a wide berth, and it then hit you.

They were treating you like you were on top of the food chain, being able to square up with them almost like-

It hit you in that moment.

Were they treating you like some sorta Alpha?

You thought for a moment about what this meant, and considered your options.

Given that you had no idea where you were, and how to contact anyone, you decided you'd roll with the punches. Even if that meant doing so literally.

...Which is how you accidentally ended up scaring the first human you saw.

By that point, it had already been a few days.

Despite your sudden climb up the food chain, pokemon for the most part were very friendly to you. Many were willing to help you out.

Some had given you berries and other fruits and veggies they scavenged. Others had helped find you some clothe, which you were... concerned where they had gotten it from.

But you wouldn't turn down clothes or blankets.

That being said, perhaps you should have realized being wrapped in a blanket in the cold at night, surrounded by some Alpha pokemon would have caused a stir by the first human that actually found you.

The poor merchant took off screaming when you spotted him and tried approaching. He was gone before you could even ask him to wait.

You had been confused, and wondered if it was all the wild pokemon near you that spooked him. No doubt he thought some of the alpha pokemon would attack?

It upset you a little bit, but you understood. There goes another human to talk to and get some directions from.

But that did mean you'd have to adjust your approach going forward if you saw another human.

Which of course, also didn't go well.

You came across a camp, and tried to approach-

...Only for everyone to run screaming as they ran from the 'creature' leading a gang of very large pokemon behind them.

After that, you decided perhaps you wouldn't be in contact with any humans any time soon. Not if you kept being found or finding humans at times you were surrounded by other pokemon.

Which was always.

And you had forgotten that people in this era were very wary of pokemon compared to other games. You figured if you were even surrounded by smaller pokemon, you'd still see fear.

It was not long after that you ended up adopting the 'cryptid' persona.

Nearly any time you came across someone, they never got a real good look at you, and ended up running away, usually screaming.

But hey, you weren't hurting anyone. Plus it was kinda funny to think about how you were some mysterious 'human' or 'creature' that gave people the spooks.

May as well find some humor in it, despite how lonely you were.

Of course, you unknowingly end up causing some discord in the local settlements. Word spreads of the odd creature that is often spotted with different pokemon, especially alpha pokemon.

And the pokemon seem to follow them, like they are a leader of some sort.

Was it a new pokemon? A humanoid lookin' one?

Was it strong enough to wrangle even alphas?

Was it dangerous? Did it hunt humans?

Did the creature only come out at night?

Meanwhile, you are playing peekaboo with an Eevee, blissfully unaware of the conflict people have about your existence.

Questions about your presence spread like wildfire as people pondered who you were. Or what you were.

Maybe you weren't even a pokemon at all, but some sort of spirit or god?

Others, a smaller few, suggested maybe you were just a hermit. (Unknowingly, they were sorta right...)

Some wondered if you were even real, and not some sort of prank going outside a circle of friends.

However, the sightings continue, even in different regions. A cloaked figure followed by all sorts of pokemon, regular and alphas.

Some even wondered if you were an omen of death, or a warning. Showing up to weary travelers when danger was near, instilling fear into them so they would leave the area, and therefore, the danger.

In reality, you were simply exploring. It was interesting how the world connected outside the hub area of the game. You could actually see how regions connected now!

Plus, you were trying to map out everything in an attempt to maybe find a settlement at some point. At this point though, it wasn't as high of a priority as you settled into your new life.

It's not until you end up helping a young woman, a teenager you think, who was lost, that people wonder if the deity or omen theory is true.

What really happened is you found a young teen clearly lost and scared.

You approached them, careful to avoid scaring her. You gave her some of your fruit you had kept on you, and asked a Blissey to help heal her.

All while she stared in shock, unable to get a good look at you with how dark it was.

It was near pitch black, except for the glow from Cyndaquil that was next to you for some light to see where you were walking. The flames from the little guy's tail eerily lit up your cloak, but hid your face.

You point her in the direction you think is a camp, without saying much, and she nearly stumbles away as she takes off, occasionally looking at you behind her shoulder.

...The rumors of you being a deity of protection skyrocket after that. Oops.

At least you were having fun with it!

[solplease]

here's something no one asked for, my ocs when they were a bit younger! :] (more like how they were in highschool lmfao) ((not aster tho sorry my king. u did not have a highschool.))

as always, close ups and more info under the cut!! OH and i put an updated relationship chart at the very end!! it's in writing this time because i thought that would be easier (it's long.) </3 i am so sorry in advance there's a lot under this HAHA

lune:

lune was a little shit, he's very rebellious now but he was even more rebellious when he was a teenager lmfao

he would CONSTANTLY get into fights, anyone that pissed him off he did not hesitate to attack

his relationship with his parents was already bad but it quickly deteriorated at this point in time

he was relatively popular in school but uh, everyone stayed away from him or tried to be on his good side because... well yk! didn't wanna get attacked..?

also people thought he was annoying but hey at least he was good looking!

he did not know he was popular btw. like at all, no idea, still doesn't know

his grades were like... okay, not great, but not bad, and he would skip class a lot... dumbass

his nails were constantly painted different colours bc cecilia would do them often, he was also never seen without a bracelet on his right wrist

huge troublemaker (some things never change!)

he hasn't really changed since then lmao

cecilia:

she was a bit more reserved back in highschool, still nice and friendly but she had a hard time approaching others because she was nervous (and others found her a bit intimidating cause she didn't smile much) ((and she's related to lune and that guy was known for being crazy))

her and lune were known as "those rich twins"

was constantly stressing over lune because of how much he got in trouble it's not like their parents would do anything about it.

kept her hair long and undyed! she liked doing different things with her hair and would try out diffy styles a lot of the time

she liked having long hair, and randomly cut it off impulsively lmfao (3 am on a school night, she couldn't sleep and was like ok why not)

good student, wasn't always at school but she was doing well

hated going to school, couldn't tell you why, just hated it

she was really awkward as a teen, but she was trying her best

always had bracelets on, if you saw her she had a bunch on her left hand, and then just one on her right.

always had her nails done (she did them herself ^^)

would always carry a few hair ties on her in case any one needed to tie their hair

one time she tried to be cool and approached a girl who didn't have a hair tie and just dropped it in her hands and walked away (she then walked out of class bc she felt embarrassed)

she tried out a lot of different clothing styles

nox:

so, he still had a shitty sleep schedule!

hard to find, he was always somewhere, no one knew where tho

good student, did not give two shits about school though

not very memorable? he was quiet and would leave as soon as he could

every time there was a group project he would ask the teacher to work alone

didn't have any friends.

his classmates were kinda scared of him lol

would braid his hair a lot

had blue on him at all times, there will ALWAYS be blue in his outfits, whether it’s the shirt, pants, or a hair tie, he always had SOMETHING blue on him (this applies now too)

no one really knew much about him, and he liked keeping it that way

fuckass edgelord (kinda)

he was always like 5 minutes late to his first class (there was a cat that would wander around in front of the school and... he couldn't resist)

he would go see that cat every day btw. before and after school, he would also go eat lunch outside so he could see the cat (and he always brought something for it too!)

loser

cassian:

very social! had a lot of friends and was very outgoing

always doodling in class

he was rather popular! and well i guess some people didn't like that

he was known as the rich kid but people were always giving him things because he was super sweet HAHA

a really bright and helpful guy

he was usually seen with a smile on his face

it's a shame how things turned out, hm?

he would bring his shoujo manga to class and just read that (he was always sitting at the back of the classroom bc he was tall so the teachers didn't really pay attention to what he was doing)

and in the rare chance his teachers saw him doing something other than classwork they would mostly let it slide, he's a good kid, so it's fine (favouritism.)

lowkey the typical popular shoujo manga male lead (wow! just like he wanted!)

really good student too, always on top of his stuff

he had these sword earrings that he really liked, he used to wear them a lot!

always wore darker and muted colours, and liked more comfortable clothing

no one said anything but they really missed him after he left, maybe if someone helped him, things would've been different

rowan:

was completely different when he was younger

always angry, or sad, no one really knew what he looked like when he smiled

no one knew what was going on with him

but he was quiet, and didn't talk to many people, he wasn't a mean or scary kid, but people were still intimidated by him

his hair was longer and uneven, it looked like he had cut random bits and pieces

he was smart but wasn't doing so well in school

it always looked like something was stressing him out

he would stay behind after school

tense and uneasy most of the time

hair super healthy tho LMFAO (his mom would oil his hair regularly!)

he was completely different around his mom though, his source of comfort

if anyone from highschool saw him now they'd think he was a completely different person (in terms of personality, since he looks... pretty much the same)

although, in the last few months of highschool, his demeanor had changed for the better, he didn't smile much still but he looked a lot more relaxed and calm

aster: (his stuff is different because he didn't have school in his world lmfao. but here's how he was as a teenager and some other info about him!)

his hair was reallyyyyyyy long when he was still in his world (you end up cutting his hair when he came here lmfao)

he was really lonely because he was the only elf in his world and he had no company whatsoever

he ended up collecting a lot of things because he would wander around a LOT

dora the explorer has nothing on him bro

he was (and is) very curious about things, he really likes to learn

he somehow learned how to braid his own hair, would spend a lot of time doing that when he was bored

he has a horrible sense of fashion, you took him shopping once and he picked out the worst fucking outfits in existence, you're basically his personal stylist cause what the hell

he likes when you dress him up though teehee

he originally saw you in a mirror he found when wandering in the forest

he became really really curious about you and accidentally yanked you to him

he was confused but really happy

blah blah blah you end up living together, we all know the story! (if you don't, you suggested he followed you because you felt bad for him cause he was PAINFULLY lonely)

you took it upon yourself to cut his hair because it was REALLY long when you first met him, he likes having his hair long though, mourned the loss of his two front strands (he will be growing them back.)

he didn't talk to you for a few days after you cut his hair for the first time, wasn't your fault... you accidentally cut off one of the front strands and had to cut the other off to make it even

fun fact about him, his eyes glow in the dark, it can be scary at times.

oh and his ears are expressive, dunno how that works but it does! and he also never goes a day without wearing earrings! he prefers the ones he came with but doesn't mind wearing whatever as long as he has earrings haha

now for the updated relationship chart! (this whole post has been about them from a few years ago but this is their current relationships with each other!)

ROWAN -> LUNE: he’s a weirdo but i’m glad we’re friends, i can handle his craziness more than most people… probably, i’d say he’s like a brother to me, but at the same time i’d probably lose my mind if he was my brother. no idea how cecilia does it

LUNE -> ROWAN: somehow he’s gotten used to me, he’s not so bad, i guess i’d call him a friend

ROWAN -> CECILIA: she’s like a little sister to me! cute! we’re good friends :] i met her through lune, they’re close! we’re like siblings the three of us

CECILIA -> ROWAN: reliable and nice! i wonder how he’s friends with lune. also. we’re the same age?? he’s real sweet tho, and he’s kind of like a big dog? haha

ROWAN -> NOX: who? :D

NOX -> ROWAN: i’ve seen him before (around the twins) he’s close to cecilia and that other guy who she's unfortunately related to

LUNE -> CECILIA: my little sister <3 we are best buddies, i’d do anything for her, she was there with me in our hardest moments, i wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, and she wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, one of the only people i’ll listen to lmao (she’s kinda scary when she’s mad at me but it’s also kinda funny?) i like bothering her but she might kill me one day though. she hides herself a lot, i don’t know why, it’s always been like this. i wonder if it’s because of me..?

CECILIA -> LUNE: dawg you’re like two minutes older than me (won’t deny the best buddies comment) he’s a really good brother though… but tough to deal with, he’s always causing some sort of trouble, but uh, well. anyway, we’re basically best friends… his words, not mine (she’s lying) he’s crazy but he’s not a bad person..? <- would defend him with her life. he’s an interesting fella that’s for sure, i’ve known him my whole life but there’s always something new with him lmfao. sometimes he comes into my room to knock something over and then he leaves, what an odd guy.

LUNE -> NOX: cocky asshole. so annoying. go to hell already. and stay away from my sister, i don't want you plaguing her with your presence.

NOX -> LUNE: fuck you insane bastard, go die.

CECILIA -> NOX: he’s pretty sweet (??????) we’re really great friends! i didn't think we would become such good friends tbh, he didn't seem to be the social type, and i'm not very social either haha... we're pretty similar i think! i can't remember who approached who first but that's fine. also, this guy has one of the worst damn sleep schedules known to man, i worry for that man. also, him and lune hate each other, no idea why.

NOX -> CECILIA: she's a close friend, i don't usually like making friends cause they end up thinking i'm weird, i don't really care about that but... i'll admit, it's nice to have a friend. she acts really differently in front of other people than she does with me, i don't think she's realized though? it's like having a cat open up to you haha, so i won't say anything. i hate her brother though, pretentious dickhead.

CASSIAN -> CECILIA: we were kids when i met her and her brother? she’s nice… and a lot like me… we still talk, she’s a good friend, thanks for keeping me company… and thanks for not asking me too many questions either

CECILIA -> CASSIAN: oh! cass is a childhood friend! we met at some event, he’s changed a lot since then, but i guess we’re more alike now? he doesn’t come out of his house much anymore, but we still text often. sometimes i see him online really late... bro... please get some sleep.... anyway, i never got to know what happened with him, and he doesn't like talking about it either, i won't pry though, because i understand.

CASSIAN -> LUNE: he’s scary, but i guess he’s not that bad..? i talk to him too, we’re not the closest, but he’s still a friend, i text him sometimes, he’s crazier than before, he was fun to hang out with when we were young, not that i don't like him anymore, he's definitely... special

LUNE -> CASSIAN: i don’t know what happened to him, but he doesn’t leave the house anymore, he’s not bad. he texts sometimes, i don’t know why because i think he’s scared of me, no idea why tho (???) i guess he’s a childhood friend? him, ceci, and i used to hang out before… well yeah, still don't know what went down

CASSIAN -> NOX: oh… i’ve never met him. cecilia’s told me about him before, lune’s mentioned him once, they have really different opinions about him

NOX -> CASSIAN: no clue, cecilia’s mentioned him before, i think he’s friends with her and… the other one.

CASSIAN -> ROWAN: another one of lune and cecilia’s friends i think? they sure are popular. (even lune???)  i dont know anything about him though

ROWAN -> CASSIAN: no idea who this guy is! 

ASTER: ??? :’D 

[taeaura]

More TCM 2003/2006 Analysis because why not

TW: Yapping; Rape/Sa, Groping, Strong language, Gore, TCM-Canon-typical Violence

So I recently found deleted / extended scenes {Part 1 / Part 2 of 2006, 2003} which gave me more inspiration to write again! Analysis time 😈

_____

I first want to talk about the most forgotten member of the Hewitt family: Jedidiah. Poor sweet little Jedidiah, probably the most underrated and least-considered member of the Hewitt ‘clan’. From the clips shown in the video and the movie itself, we can infer that Jedidiah is left alone quite often. He’s also very aware of what goes on both in and outside the walls. Either the family doesn’t try to hide it from him or they’re doing a shit job at it. Even then, it’s kinda hard to hide things from independent children anyway. Jedidiah’s a very empathetic and artistic child who understands the Hewitt family values. I.E; the scene where he helps Erin and Morgan escape. Especially when he goes:

“Don’t hurt her! Please, Grandma!” - 2003, 1:06:48 

He looks so defeated after..poor baby. 

At around 1:12:40 when he’s urgently trying to get Erin and Morgan out of the basement via the tornado shelter exit {I think that’s what the structure is?}

“Go - Go now! Run! Faster, hurry! - Come on, don’t let him get you!”

“Go! I’ll be fine!” - 2003, 1:12:45 - 1:14:05 

And when he tries to bite Thomas’ hand to hold him back?? Poor baby. I’d also like to acknowledge how Thomas didn’t get physical with him , simply just shoved him off his hand and onto the sandbag. In the deleted scenes for 2003, he seems much happier when he gets to show Pepper his drawings; It seems he really needs attention that he isn’t getting at home. Maybe this is similar to how Thomas was raised, though I'm not sure. This is even more apparent when he says “You sure you’re not just saying that?” after Pepper compliments his drawing. He very clearly needs a form of guidance and support; Not only for his development but for his confidence. As I discussed in a previous post, Thomas also really enjoys praise, which he gets mainly from Hoyt. Speaking of Hoyt, there’s two possibilities {that I’ve come up with} for how Jedidiah came to be. 1.) Jedidiah is the product of rape, most likely the child of Hoyt and a victim. 2.) They ‘adopted’ him from a victim or some similar situation. Not much evidence as to his origins, but we can theorize. 

____

Moving on to Hoyt; the ‘head’ of the family. In the extended scenes for The Beginning 2006, we get to see an even more aggressive and short-fused side of Hoyt. He yells more often, he’s more violent, and he’s definitely more ‘hands-on’....yay for us. At around 3:20 in this video, as he’s going to ‘attend’ to Bailey’s injuries, he discreetly gropes her, specifically groping her breast whilst repeating ‘I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Yeah, okay, pal.  And then he LICKS THE GLASS HE JUST PULLED OUT OF HER?? He also really doesn’t like the victims; Like. At all. He’s definitely lustful over Bailey, but he doesn’t like how ‘smart’ she gets at times. I.E; “Is having a dead biker chick ride shotgun proper police procedure, sir?” Now, in this video we get to see the more hostile version of Hoyt. Imagine his regular persona x2. At around 0:45 he pulls Dean’s head up by his hair and starts yelling is his face;

“You fucking idiot! I just told you we had to eat! Ain’t you listening to me?” 

This tells us two things: One, Hoyt really doesn’t like when his authority is challenged via questions, lack of interest, or defiance. Two, he really doesn’t like talking about his time in the war. It’s a traumatic near-death experience which is definitely a soft spot for him. I doubt having to dwell on it, much less repeat it over and over again to someone he already hates is easy. Following that tangent, he quickly switches to his condescending ‘I’m just trying to help’ bullshit. Specifically at 1:09;

“Now what happens if you kids drive all the way up to Austin just to find out that you don’t even qualify to be in the Army? I’m concerned about your physical fitness here.”

I’ve also noticed that Hoyt gets real up-close n’ personal when he’s being condescending. Connect this with the moment he ties up and chokes Bailey; We can see Hoyt really likes showing not only his mental dominance, but his physical as well. Now, Hoyt is 6 feet, that’s tall. Compared to Thomas? That’s 5 inches shorter, and at maybe half or ⅗ of the weight. {I headcanon Thomas at around 330/320.} Hoyt sure as hell feels intimidated by Thomas physically. Mentally? Nah, probably not. He knows he could manipulate Thomas one way or another. 

Now; I’d like to focus on how Hoyt treats the family. He rarely if ever gets fussy with them to the extent of the victims. In the 2006 deleted scenes, at around 5:54 - 6:20, Hoyt never yells at Luda Mae and corrects himself when she scolds him. As she raises her voice, he gets fed up but never yells, only says;

“God damnit, Momma, let me handle this.”

He’s stressed, she’s most definitely stressed, and he feels the need to control everything to manage it. His speech at 2:01 of the 2006 extended scenes part 1 is very loving coming from him. He’s trying to reassure his family that everything will be fine whilst also shit-talking the ‘enemy;’ Further isolating them from civilization which they’ve only known to be a negative. He also calmly tries coaxing / ordering Thomas in for supper as opposed to yelling at him. He definitely switches between Hoyt and Charlie around his family; Even though he keeps Hoyt as the ‘default’ to remain in power {which is his source of comfort}, he lets Charlie slip through when it’s needed. 

____

Now for everyone’s favorite big boy; Thomas <3. The extended scene in part 2 {0:00 - 0:30} when Bailey see’s him and just starts screaming {rightfully so, she’s terrified}. Thomas is just standing there, fidgeting with his hands like 🤨/😐 - I know bro was reliving some school / work trauma. Seeing him fidget and doing what’s called ‘T-rex arms’ makes me think he’s neurodivergent. Obviously that’s not the only thing, I’ve been thinking he’s autistic specifically for a while now {Me pushing my autism onto a character} but it fits, no? {Maybe I'll do a post talking about his neurodivergence, idk} And he looks so overwhelmed during the dinner / Hoyt’s speech scene {In the extended scenes part 1.} OH! And ESPECIALLY when Hoyt brings him down to the basement at 37:40 in The Beginning 2006. He looks so overwhelmed and possibly terrified? When you brighten the scene, his expression is much easier to see {I’ll put a picture / gif below}. I think it’s safe to assume Thomas was a bit reluctant to continue as Hoyt had to coax him;

“Come on, Tommy, ain’t no different than the slaughterhouse. Meat’s meat; Bone’s bone. Get it done.”

I think Thomas really only got comfortable with the new lifestyle after he used it as an artistic outlet. Especially when he got to ‘experiment’ on Eric. I’ve seen multiple people use this scene as a means to say Thomas is gay. And listen, I don’t necessarily disagree, I don’t think he’s completely straight either {Reminder, any character that’s sexuality isn’t confirmed means that labeling them as ‘straight’ is a headcanon too!} I just think there’s more to work with here. I myself have struggles with my sexuality, specifically with how I view women. I’m not trying to push this onto Tommy, I just see potential similarities. I think Thomas was definitely envious of Eric, therefore, taking his face and ‘becoming’ something similar to him was a way to hide himself and present in a more ‘attractive way.’ I think he’s attracted to men, but his attraction is either masked or based on the idea of being like them. Eric has a life with such intense purpose. An army veteran {returning as well} with a partner, good family dynamic, and a friend group? ONTOP of being attractive and fit? Oh, hun, you know Thomas was yearning right there. He just wants to be good enough. I mean, really really, good enough. I don’t know why, but my brain automatically went to ‘he wants to become and consume Eric.’ As in, he’s attracted to the idea of being {like} Eric; As well as being attracted to Eric. I don’t know how to communicate this properly so I hope you get what I’m putting down.

___

Again, apologies for my long incoherent rants; I have so many ideas that I want to share

Much love, 🫀

[adrixivy]

guess who’s back😝 (I’m gone after this)

Wade LOVES recreating the Spider-Man kiss. He basically begs for it when he somehow ends up upside down or if Peter were hanging infront of him. He likes it more when he’s in Peter’s original position but nonetheless, he loves recreating the kiss.

(Disclaimer: THIS IS NOT MCU PETEY. COMIC SPIDEYPOOL HEADCANON)

He discovered it when he stood at a fire escape of a building that was their meetup place as he was leaning against the barrier, looking around as he waited. Peter suddenly slid down in front of him with a bag of Mexican food he brought from a food truck on the way to meet Wade. Wade was oddly silent, the man usually lunging for the food and the man so Peter thought it was weird at first.

That was immediately changed to bewilderment when Wade reached out to pull up his mask a little. Peter immediately grabbed his wrist, his lenses narrowing. “Trust me” was all the mercenary said and Peter slowly let go of his wrist. Peter was curious too so he decided to stay put, despite the feeling to immediately back off and web Wade up in an alley and leave him behind for people to throw rocks or whatever at the man as he eats the food.

This was after Peter revealed his identity to gain Wade’s trust. Trust that Peter actually loved him and wasn’t dating him to play with his feelings cause Wade found it hard to believe a man as pretty as Peter would love him back.

Wade pulls up his mask just above his nose, revealing his rough scarred face that Peter adored. Peter admired the man’s features that he almost didn’t notice Wade leaning in to kiss him.

Wade placed a hand to the side of Peter’s face, holding it gently as he kissed Peter. Peter kissed back, not minding it, even though it was kinda weird to do it in his position. After one steamy make out session and going up to the roof of the building, as they ate, Peter decided to ask the question.

“It’s the Spider-Man kiss!” Wade answered and immediately, Peter is judging the man as his mask’s lenses narrowed at the man chewing on a taco.

Wade proceeds to explain that in one of the movies that Peter was supposedly in, he kissed MJ like that and he always wanted to try it. Sure he was jealous of MJ but he got to do it too so he didn’t dwell so much on it. Least to say, Peter was confused and judged the man but he didn’t mind it. (Peter: When did I make a movie??) (Wade: Oh not you! It’s Tobey!) (Peter: ??)

Sometimes, when it’s Wade’s turn to get food for their patrol meals, Peter would be relaxing when all the sudden Wade appears upside down in front of him and he’s forced to pull his and Wade’s mask up and they kiss. Whether it’s a make out or peck, it’s up to Peter. Most of the time it’s a peck. (Wade sticks his katana into the wall and is hanging off it. Sometimes he falls while kissing Peter and Peter would be laughing away and Wade can’t even be mad because the man’s giggles are cute af)

So now whenever Peter slides down in front of Wade, it’s a make out session or a peck on the lips with or without the mask. Whatever it is, it’s a Spider-Man kiss. It’s Wade’s number 1 favorite thing that he would always beg Peter to do. If the man doesn’t, he’ll do it. (Wade on his knees, hugging Peter’s legs: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE) (Peter, arms crossed as he looks down at the pitiful man: Oh my god, FINE!)

[kuratamashi]

Dragneel Brothers

Been reading @slitheryowl amazing fic, Keeping secrets. I love me a good Dragneel brothers fic, we did not get enough proper interactions in the manga! Zeref is such an interesting character, he’s a good example of ‘irredeemable actions with understandable reason. It’s hard to write a character that actively contradicts their own motives and thoughts, but Mashima did just that, and he made it work!

I wish we got more information about zeref, I want to know more about his time looking into bringing Natsu back. I want to know more about their parents. What was zeref like as an older brother to Natsu when they were little? I know I wasn’t the best older sibling at times 😅 Are he and Natsu similar or polar opposites?

I love fic authors that explore Zeref’s character more and how he might interact with the characters around him in a more in depth manner.

Also, in the end of the manga, when Mavis and Zeref die, we see Zeref’s locket was left behind, but we’ve not seen it since? Where is it! I want to believe Natsu kept it, his house is filled with sentimental items, so I find it hard to believe he wouldn’t want to keep it, we’ve seen Natsu acknowledge and accept Zeref as his brother in 100 year quest, so it’s not like he would have thrown it away and not cared for it. He’s definitely not wearing it. Found that kinda disappointing 🤣 I’d hoped he had it under his scarf, but alas. So where is it? I genuinely wonder and hope it comes up again in the manga soon.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

y'all ever think about how j.oongi wears eyeliner 😳 I do. A lot haha.

[wardingshout]

hey OP hope work is going well :D

as is usual everything breaks when I show up (I promise it's never anything I do!!!) so it's all chaos but I'm excited to be back! :D

apparently work clothing is tough if you aren't tall-average to tall sized but I have been gifted with a Fresh Winter Fit so I am Living

have a 2022 Ventus I found bc I love him!

I also hope ur work or whatever else ur doing is going well anon!! :D

[lethiepie]

wanting to check 'the magnus archives' tag to see the fanart.... but ill get spoilers 😭😭😭😭