#anyways. if anyone is planning a wedding or might be in the future

[h0neyfreak]

Planning a wedding has brought me around on many things. Namely that wedding-adjacent events are fun specifically BECAUSE they’re compulsory for everyone. Taking off work for your best friends bachelorette party/wedding shower/rehearsal dinner etc is way easier to do than taking off for a random girls trip. It’s much easier to plan because there are defined roles and expectations and a central purpose and everyone is (ideally) committed to being there. I get it now.

What I DONT get (and probably never will) is how and why people make these things crazy expensive. It feels like taking advantage of people/the situation yknow? But on a more practical level…why would you gather up your (theoretically) closest friends and then make them all incredibly stressed out and lowkey pissed off at your right before the whole “standing next to you on your big day” thing? I don’t want my friends to be mad at me ever let alone at a giant party where we all get to be together for one rare evening.

[hypnoneghoul]

Sundown: Chapter 13

WC: 1,7K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Transfeminine Mountain, Blood, Injury, Flashbacks/Retrospection, Near Death Experience, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Fluff

“Funny! I doubt anyone would wanna put up with the little ol' me.” “You're not so bad,” Sunshine admits and pulls another chuckle out of Swiss with it. “Why, that is high praise indeed, dear sister!”

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 13 under the cut or on AO3.

“Swiss!” Mounty yells, throwing herself on her knees next to him, patting his cheeks and begging him to wake up. Rain and Dewdrop look at them with confusion and worry as Phantom jumps into action. “Swiss, stay with me, please, wake up!”

The medic is silent as they check his vitals. Mounty can’t take that, “Tommy, what’s wrong with him!?”

“Dunno yet,” they mumble. He’s breathing and his heart is still beating, but it’s weak. “It’s not his head, that’s just a scratch. Help me undress him.”

Mounty obliges, all but tearing Swiss’ bloodied clothes off of him. Now that she thinks about it, there was no way of knowing if at least some of all that blood was his own or not. Tears well up in her eyes, she can’t breathe; if she thought she was scared before, she’s paralyzed with fear now.

Phantom peels Swiss’ wet shirt away to reveal a deep laceration, nearly a stab wound, through half of his stomach. Mounty gasps and puts a hand against her mouth, now sobbing in earnest and shaking.

“Shit,” the medic mutters and similar expressions can be heard from Dewdrop and Rain, the latter turning to hide against the other’s neck as he holds him.

“Can you fix him?” Dewdrop asks, whispering. Mounty hears it anyway and looks up at Phantom with pleading eyes, needing to hear the answer; needing it to be a confident yes.

“That’s a lot of blood and it’s so deep, I don’t…I don't know,” they admit instead.

“Swiss! Don't be mean,” Sunshine pouts, but it’s obvious she can barely hold back her laugh.

“Sorry, sis, it's just a little silly to me!” Swiss, on the other hand, doesn’t even try to get rid of the bright grin on his face. “Why would you be planning it all now, you've never even had a boyfriend.”

“Because when it's time I want it to be perfect!” she exclaims. Her brother found her with a small journal, sketching something that turned out to be Sunshine’s dream wedding venue.

“You do realize any guy would have to pass my super secret and scary are-you-worthy-of-my-little-sister test first, right?” Swiss teases, though both of them know it’s not entirely a joke. He’ll be the last to ever let his little sister’s heart be broken by a man.

“Shut up!” the girl finally laughs fully. “You ain't gonna scare my future boyfriends, I want to have a husband before I'm eighty!”

“I absolutely will scare your future boyfriends and you might get a husband before you're eighty. If you pick the right guys, that is.”

“Idiot,” Sunshine grumbles under her breath, huffing and glancing back down at her notebook. “Don't you ever think about how you want your wedding to look like?”

“Eh, I don't know, Sunny,” Swiss sighs and sits down next to her with his legs crossed. “I don't think I'm a marriage kinda dude.”

His sister hums, “You'll change your mind when you find the right one.”

“Funny! I doubt anyone would wanna put up with the little ol' me.”

“You're not so bad,” Sunshine admits and pulls another chuckle out of Swiss with it. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings her closer. She squirms but giggles as he ruffles her already unruly hair.

“Why, that is high praise indeed, dear sister!” the man laughs. They’re quiet for a bit, when it dies down, both enjoying their little moment.

“But you would invite me,” Sunshine interrupts it after a while, “right?”

“What?”

“To your wedding?” she clarifies.

“I could consider it.”

“Swiss!” his sister wriggles out of his hold and playfully punches him in the chest.

“Oh, fine! Yes, I would invite you, and knowing you you'd somehow end up a bridesmaid.”

“Or a best…woman. I could be your best woman!” Sunshine cheers, clapping at her cleverness.

Swiss shakes his head but there’s so much fondness in it. “Sure, sure.” 

“‘Tis settled.” The girl nods with a face of a fancy businessman that has just made a billion dollar deal.

Swiss furrows his brows in somewhat of a challenging expression. “Only if you bring every man you wanna date for an interrogation with me beforehand.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

First thing that Swiss notices is how dry his mouth is. He breathes heavily through his nose and feels pain radiating from his middle as his chest rises. He’s slow to come to full realization of himself, each sense waking up and tuning in to his surroundings separately.

Finally, Swiss opens his eyes. They’re sticky and his vision is blurry, but he can see.

He can see his girl.

He clears his throat before rasping with his voice gravelly from unuse, “Hi, Momo.”

The vague shape of Mounty raises a hand and suddenly it’s on his cheek, slapping him across the face with all the barmaid’s might. The additional pain that blooms because of it makes him sober up in a second.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again!” Mounty scolds him; well deserved.

He's not dead, then.

“Not planning to,” he admits and lets out a chuckle that hurts him all over. “Ow…”

The next thing he knows it’s the barmaid’s lips on his own chapped ones as Mounty kisses the breath out of him. She doesn’t pull away for what feels like a small eternity and he couldn’t be more grateful. He can’t really grasp—and he doesn’t want to, anyway—the events of the previous day, but the relief of being there safe with his girl could still just about make him cry.

It indeed is a while before they really part and it’s only because they’re interrupted by Phantom accompanied by a man that looks familiar, but Swiss is sure is a stranger.

“I'm Aether, Phantom's brother,” he introduces himself and the feeling of familiarity suddenly makes sense. “The two of us patched you up. Literally, you’ve got a bunch of stitches in ya, so no moving around for now.”

“Ah, heard a lot about you,” Swiss grunts with a nod, indeed feeling the sore skin around his wound being pulled by the stitches, “And a simple thank you ain’t enough for saving me, but…well, thank you.”

“No worries,” Aether smiles kindly. He’s got the same cunning, yet kind, glint in his eyes that Phantom does and the cowboy thinks he’d like getting to know him. “I’m just glad I was here to help, you got Phantom scared shitless.”

“Yeah, you’re a fucking madman, you know that?” Phantom throws their arms up. They do look rather agitated, even though they had time to calm down since the initial incident. Apparently it’s been nearly twenty-four hours. “I have no idea how you’re alive right now, do you understand me, Swiss?”

“Sorry…” Swiss grumbles. He really does feel guilty, he was behaving like a feral animal and scared them all more than it was necessary. Not that he could’ve really helped it when Mounty was in danger, though.

“Okay, now, kid, give him a break,” Aether pats his sibling’s shoulder, “he’s got his punishment for scaring you all.”

Swiss nods and  Aether insists on leaving him and Mounty alone (after informing that the former should heal nicely provided he rests properly, and that the latter’s sprained ankle should be forgotten about in less than a week) and Phantom ultimately obliges, but not before cursing the cowboy’s madness once more. Everyone agrees that they do have a point.

Rain and Dewdrop pop in for a moment after them, bearing gifts in form of warm dinner and booze—apparently approved by Aether the doctor. They also curse Swiss’ madness before leaving, naturally.

Once they’re really alone again, Mounty heaves out a tired sigh and lays down with her head on Swiss’ chest. Neither of them falls asleep nor closes their eyes, but the minutes—or hours—they spend like that are the most restful either of them had in what feels like ages.

Mounty is the first to move again, of course. Swiss won’t admit it out loud—at least not seriously—but he’s in a lot of pain; his biggest wound isn’t the only one. She leans over him and pressed their lips together again—and the kiss gets more heated with every second; they both need the closeness.

The barmaid is gentle when she throws a leg over his lap and raises on her knees to straddle him. She descends slowly and carefully so as not to jostle the wounded man too much as she sits on the top of his thighs.

Swiss instinctively raises his arms to touch her but pauses, hanging his hands in the air between the two of them.

“In the barn, did you–” he mutters, but can’t bring himself to spit the question out fully as he stares at his hands. They're clean now, but the cowboy can't wipe the image of them all bloodied from his mind.

So much blood on his hands and yet the barmaid places her own delicate ones over his and brings them to her hips.

“I ain't seen nothing, cowboy,” Mounty tells him; calmly, softly—knowing what is going through his head, “all I know is that you saved me. You saved me, Swiss. Alright?”

He wishes it were so easy to overlook what he’s done, but for the time being it’s fine. He’s fine and so he nods and gives himself up to his girl in entirety once again.

Mounty takes her hands off of Swiss’ and reaches for his hat that’s resting on the windowsill. She puts it on her own head and the cowboy knows exactly what she’s trying to say. She brings her elegant fingers to the buttons of her shirt and starts popping them open. Swiss can't tear his eyes away from the growing bit of exposed skin as his cock begins to chub up in his pants.

“I'm gonna ride you tonight, cowboy,” Mounty whispers and finally opens her shirt to reveal her gorgeous tits, “and you're going to just lie still and take it like a champ. We don't want to pop your stitches, do we?”

“Boobies…” he sighs as he lets go of the barmaid’s hips to make grabby hands at Mounty’s chest, his mind cleared of everything but her tits now.

“Yeah, you're gonna watch ‘em bounce and forget about everything else, darling, aren't you?”

Swiss drools a little as he nods.

.

.

.

.

.

edit: about the cowboy hat thing

[the-hopeless-haze]

Glorious Happenings of Happenstance

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: mild smut

Summary: You get Aaron to accompany you to a wedding. It's the only night you have together, so you might as well make the most of it. Right? (as requested by Aaron deficiency anon)

-------

You hate your brother.

You don’t, really, you just dislike him right now, dragging your whole family to Boston for a wedding a week before you were supposed to be starting your new job. It was always like that with you two, push and pull, a constant game of tug and war of who was going to outdo the other one. You got the prestigious job but he was getting married. Young - like all the army rats. Dumb. Stupid. It wouldn’t last. But whatever. The hotel is nice, and you managed to escape your future sister-in-law’s bachelorette plans to get a drink at the bar by yourself. Never mind the fact she couldn’t legally drink and neither could your brother. Stupid. Very stupid.

But your parents made it known your input was unwanted and uncalled for so you kept your mouth shut. Maybe you could just be inebriated this whole weekend. God forbid someone tries to talk him out of one of the worst mistakes of his life.

You order a mojito because you’ve been sweltering in the humidity of the Boston summer, but then… you think maybe you won’t need to be drunk on liquor as you see a tall man with jet-black hair sit down on your right, leaving a few empty seats between the two of you. He looks authoritative; like people listen when he speaks; like he could command a room without so much as whispering. He’s too old for you, but fuck it, if your parents had nothing to say about your brother getting married the second he turned eighteen, they can’t say shit about who you end up with.

But still. You’re not staying in Massachusetts, and from the looks of him, you doubt he is either. He must be here on business, still dressed in black dress slacks and a suit jacket in the heat, never mind that it’s almost 10 pm. Although, who knows? Lots of suit types around, although not necessarily in hotel bars.

He orders something strong on the rocks, sipping slowly at the amber liquid. You eye his hand on the glass... and god. It dwarfs it, making it look tiny wrapped in his long fingers.

You bite your lip and turn away, sipping cautiously at your own drink. You weren’t thinking about meeting anyone here, anyway. You sweat off most of your makeup this morning driving to the hotel and your hair was a frizzy mess, soaking up all the moisture from the air it could get. You needed a shower. You just wanted a few drinks alone before turning in for the night. Right?

You’d never had a one-night stand yourself. You didn’t know how those worked, and you thought emotional entanglements before starting as an FBI agent, however brief they were… wouldn’t exactly be a good start to your career. You didn’t want to be missing him, waiting for calls that never came.

Jesus. You need to get a grip. You haven’t said a word to this man. You don’t even know his name.

Scanning him over again, you drink in his dark hair and eyes, thick eyebrows, sharp jawline, and broad shoulders. You’re not being exactly subtle in checking him out as you start to feel the effects of the alcohol loosening you up a little.

So you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are that he catches you.

Aaron noticed you when he walked into the bar, but he deduced that you were tired and wanted to be left alone. A woman alone in a hotel bar that clearly wasn’t here on work, clad in a sundress… you were here to deal with something. Fight with a lover, family member, or friend - someone you were on vacation with. You didn’t want company. And neither did he, really. But now that your eyes met, he feels like you look so familiar, and yet he can’t quite figure out why. You give a small, shy smile and you slide down the few bar stools and tell him your name.

“I’m Aaron,” he responds, using his first instead of his last name to introduce himself. A rarity. You’ve got to be twenty years his junior. Nothing can come of this, he tells himself, trying to ignore the thin strap of your dress that was falling off your shoulder.

“You here for the wedding?” you ask, hopeful that maybe he was some long-distance relative of your brother’s fiancée, that you would somehow be able to run into him again. Celebrate the inevitable divorce.

“Wedding? No,” he answers, eyebrows raising a little in surprise.

Damn it. Couldn’t be so lucky.

“Who’s getting married?” he asks.

“My brother,” you answer.

“Shouldn’t you know who’s in the wedding party, then?” he asks, giving you a small smile, just wide enough to see the hints of dimples on his cheeks.

God. You were half in love with him already.

“I don’t know her side,” you answer, smiling back.

“They haven’t been together long?”

“Nope. Guess.”

“How long? I don’t know. Six months.”

“You think that’s short? Try four,” you say. “He’s going into the army. Straight out of high school. And no, she’s not pregnant.”

“You don’t sound like you approve,” he observes.

“Would you?”

“I don’t know. Stranger things have worked out.”

“I’ve never seen high school sweethearts stay together. And if they do… they’re usually not happy.”

“You’re barely out of high school yourself.”

“I’m 25!”

“Proving my point,” he says, smiling again. “I married my high school sweetheart.”

“I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger,” you point out.

“No. You don’t,” he sighs, taking a swig of his whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately apologize, hating yourself for your lack of filter. “I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s okay,” he cuts off your apology. “I invited the observation. We… we wanted different things.”

“Isn’t that the way shit always ends?”

Aaron nods, swallowing down the rest of his drink. “What about you? Are you against all marriages or just the shotgun ones?”

“Mostly just those, but I don’t know. I really don’t see the benefit at all,” you shrug.

“Right. So jaded in your old age,” he quips.

You giggle, shaking your head. “I’ll buy the next round?” you offer tentatively.

“I believe it’s the other way around,” he says, flagging down the bartender before you could and adding your next drink to his tab.

You try and fail to ignore the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. “There’s always tax breaks.”

“What?” you ask, caught off guard by his out-of-context statement.

“Filing as married. Tax breaks,” Aaron clarifies.

“Yeah. Health insurance, too. Or, you know, not having to live in the barracks.”

“The joys of marriage.”

You roll your eyes. “How romantic. Spare me. Please.”

“No one’s tying you down, hmm?”

“No,” you say, but you give him a lilting smile, one you hope dares him to try.

“Fair enough.”

“What brings you out here, then, if it’s not to be my plus one to this sham of a wedding?”

“Work,” he replies. “Giving a conference at a college nearby.”

“You don’t have time to come in between?”

You don’t know why you’re inviting him. You don’t want him to meet your family, not like this, anyway. You don’t want to lead him on. It’s the alcohol, maybe, loosening your lips.

“I think your parents would kill me,” Aaron says firmly.

“Right. If they don’t care what my brother does, they shouldn’t care what I do. Bringing you to the wedding would be marginally less stupid than actually getting married.”

He sighs your name, shaking his head. “I can’t in good conscience agree to that.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll never see you again after this.”

“So?” you shrug.

“I don’t intend on starting something I can’t finish,” he says lowly, and you wonder… is that flirting? Is that what he’s doing?

“Fair enough,” you concede. “A little bit too much pressure for something that’s destined to go nowhere.”

“You’re not from here, either?”

“I’m moving for my job,” you tell him.

“Which is?”

You laugh and shake your head. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” he says, smiling against the glass as he lifts it to his mouth. “CIA?”

“You’re serious,” you say, incredulous. “You actually believe I’m joining the CIA?”

“You’ve got a talent for holding a conversation without saying anything,” he points out.

“Takes one to know one,” you shoot back, realizing all you really learned about him was his first name and that he was married and now divorced.

He shrugs. “Good quality to have if for whatever reason you need to go undercover. Also, good quality to have when you’re in possession of vital, secret information. Something to think about.”

“You want to refer me?”

“Smooth,” he grins. “Nice deflection.”

“I’m most certainly not joining the CIA, Aaron, but if that’s what you’d like to follow you around in your fantasies of me, be my guest,” you smile back.

“Fantasies?”

“Since nothing can come of this. All we’re left with, right?”

“It’s a conversation in a bar. Those end two ways. Three, actually.”

“Which are?”

“The people involved in the conversation get a room. Or they leave and never speak again. Or… provided one is a CIA agent and on a covert operation, she may in fact kill the man involved.”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t help but laugh anyway. Maybe it’s the alcohol loosening him up a bit, you don’t know, but you get the feeling he’s not often like this.

“I’m beginning to think you’re paranoid, now. What do they want you for?”

“Some light treason, probably,” he snarks.

You’re not drunk enough that the beginning of his earlier remark escapes you, though. “I take it a room isn’t in the cards for us?”

Looking at you apologetically, he whispers your name before shaking his head. “It’s not fair to either of us. Some people can live their lives like that… but I can’t. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m sorry. I’m not the man you need tonight.”

Oh, but he is.

You hang your head, blushing. “I’m not… I don’t usually do this, either. I just figured…”

“It’s not because I don’t find you attractive,” he reassures you. “I just…can’t lead you on when I know it can’t last.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” you say, nodding. “There is a fourth way this can end, though.”

“Yeah? I’m all ears.”

“I see you tomorrow,” you grin, downing the rest of your drink. “You’ll still be around.”

And with that, you stand up, kiss his cheek, and you walk out of that bar. And you don’t look back to see his reaction no matter how much you want to.

You know he’s bad news. You know he won’t show up. You know he’s absolutely right, and an attractive man like that must have been through a series of one-night stands after his wife left or he left her and realized they just left him hollow. Didn’t fill the void she left.

He didn’t want you to add to that chapter in his life. And you can’t blame him. You’d be a toxic end to that book if there ever was one.

————-

So when you see Aaron through the windows, who lost the suit jacket, finally, hanging outside of the wedding reception, you think you’re going insane. Hallucinating. Having an out-of-body experience or something.

He was too old to be playing games. Why was he here, hanging on the outskirts like this? It’s not like he was trying to get your attention. You were having a conversation with your cousin who was praying she caught the bouquet, and when you eyed him, you told her that you need some air.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you say, stepping out of the stuffy reception hall into the cooler night air. “Or out. Not enough balls to actually crash it?”

“I… well. I suppose I’ve been caught,” he says sheepishly, and if the lighting out here wasn’t so bad you’d swear you saw him blushing. “You look beautiful.”

Maybe you do look good, or at least better than the bar last night. You settled on a maroon one-shouldered dress that clung to your curves, paired it with black-heeled sandals and you managed to get your hands on waterproof mascara and eyeliner to beat the humidity.

“Why are you here?”

“It was the fourth option.”

“We’ve reached an impasse, though.”

“We’re down to three options, again,” Aaron nods. “I realized it was prolonging the inevitable.”

“It’s two, Aaron. Room or no room,” you say, a little tense. “There’s no inevitable. There’s just now. You showed up. You showed up now.”

He scoffs, stepping a little closer to you. “You don’t even believe that. All you think about is the future. You think your brother and his wife are destined to divorce so they shouldn’t get married. Why should we start something when we know it’s going to end? That’s what this whole week was predicated on for you. Inevitability. And trying to avoid it and get others to avoid it as well. It’s your whole anti-marriage stance. Why should anyone start what they can’t finish? Right? Why bother with any of it? Why come on to me at all? One day someone is going to leave, by choice or by circumstance.”

“You showed up,” you say again. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Aaron. You don’t know shit about me. You said so yourself last night.”

“No. I don’t know your last name or your favorite color or what your major in college was. But I know that you’re afraid.”

“Everyone’s afraid,” you shoot back. “You showed up. Why?”

“I… I wanted to see you again. It’s different now. It’s not a conversation in a bar anymore. It’s two people outside of a wedding.”

“Why see me again? Wasn’t the point of not starting to avoid hurting? Isn’t that what we’re all afraid of? Pain? We spend our whole lives trying to outrun it. You don’t like one night stands because they hurt. Because they leave you empty. Because they make you wonder and worry about the what-ifs and the consequences.”

Aaron shakes his head. “It’s not just about that. I thought about this. About us. If we only have the night… I want to do it right. I want to spend it with you.”

“Not in me?” you quip, smirking.

He says your name in a warning tone. “Don’t.”

“Fine,” you laugh. “I take it you’ll actually crash now?”

“Yes,” he nods, looking at you intensely. “I hope you can dance.”

“Dancing’s a dangerous game,” you tease. “Could quickly lead to other things.”

“Not in a room full of your family.”

“You’re a little tapped, huh?” you ask, grinning.

“Tapped?”

“Fucked in the head.”

He shrugs. “We have one night. I want it. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it, Aaron,” you say, and lead him back through the glass doors of the hall. “You’ll quickly find I’m just as fucked.”

“I think I already knew that,” he chuckles lowly, taking your hand in his.

What kind of man agrees to this? You’ve had boyfriends you’ve had to fight with to meet your family in the first place, and here’s this man, all set to attend a full-blown wedding with your entire extended family. Maybe you didn’t care if it was long-distance at the end of tonight. He seems like a keeper.

Your brother eyes you from where he stands at the altar. You smile and shake your head, ushering Aaron into the back row with you. You didn’t exactly feel like you needed front-row seats for this.

His future wife, Crystal, she’s pretty, with olive skin, kind brown eyes, and curly black hair, but you’re still just taken aback by how young they are, how your brother will be selling his body and soul for the military in weeks and she’s coming along for the ride. Young love. You remember your first, the neighbor next door, a little older than you. Like everyone with their first love, you swore you’d marry him one day.

But you didn’t.

And you were better off.

Vows spoken. Rings traded. You almost tear up a little, given your recent fight with your mother about this, her saying she was glad at least one of her kids was getting married, that maybe she did have the hope of grandchildren someday. And it’s not fair, not really, to put that kind of pressure on you. You were career-oriented. You were never going to be the kind of woman who easily submit, who did what a man said, who took his last name and gave up the one you used for decades. You were never going to be a woman like Crystal, even when you were younger, and would do just about anything for male validation. Something in your brain was wired to be contradictory when someone tried to box you in.

How can you speak meaningful vows with someone you barely knew? You hear your brother spout something about love and eternal happiness, in sickness and in health, and it’s so easy to promise that when all you’ve seen is their good days.

You don’t have a traumatic background. You just know people leave. And you have always tried to never let yourself be in a vulnerable position. Even here, Aaron is the one who’s got less of a leg to stand on. Sure, his being here was going to lead to some awkward conversations with your relatives, but they were your relatives. He was the one out of place.

Your aunt turns around after the ceremony ends to say something to you, but she stops short upon catching Aaron’s eyes. So it begins.

“Who’s this?” she asks.

“My hooker for the night,” you tell her, deadpan, staring at your nails like you’re uninterested, and it’s so hard not to break out into a smile when you see Aaron blushing in your peripheral, sputtering and trying to come up with an excuse as to why he is sitting next to you other than being a sex worker.

You take it he’s never been with a woman like you before.

And at first, you disliked the odds stacked against you, but now you’re realizing how much fun you can have with this. There’s no need to hide your true colors because you’re both leaving at the end of the night anyway. You can be as unhinged as you want. No reason to play it up, make it out like you’re someone you’re not just so he might ask you out again… because this is it. Lowkey. No pressure.

“Don’t worry, honey, she’s always been like that,” your aunt reassures him, patting his shoulder gently. “Although if you really are a hooker, I’ll take your business card. You’re good-looking and you’ll be a plus one? A dream.”

“I assure you, I’m not a hooker, ma’am,” Aaron denies quickly, stoically.

“That’s what they all say,” you quip back. “Remember how much I’m paying you.”

If looks could kill, you’d be bleeding from a thousand stab wounds right now. But you were having fun, more fun than you’d had with a man in a long time.

“You’re not cute,” he whispers in your ear when your aunt turns back around.

“You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you thought that,” you retort, starting to feel a little hot under your dress at his lips so close to your skin. “Besides, you should be gloating right now. You’re so attractive that my aunt thinks women would pay you to have sex with them.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I should be jumping for joy at that,” he says sarcastically.

“Exactly,” you nod, smirking at him, taking his snark seriously. “Relax. One night, right? Even if you make a complete ass out of yourself, this is it.”

“Yeah.”

“When’s the last time you had a good time, Aaron?” you ask suddenly. “No strings attached, good time? Because fine. I don’t know your last name or your major in college or your favorite color either. But if I’m afraid, you’re miserable. You need to let loose. You came here for a reason. I can at least give you that.”

“I just don’t want—“

“Them to think you’re a hooker? Please. First of all, I’m the most frugal bitch alive. They know I didn’t actually pay you to be here or to dick me down later. No one will believe that. And again, Aaron, what the fuck do you care what they believe? They’re never going to see you again. And we’re at a sham of a wedding to top it all off. So… live a little. Have a good time. Tell me some stupid jokes. Dance with me. Have a couple of drinks. And let it go. Whatever baggage you have does not exist in this room if whatever fears I have aren’t supposed to either.”

“You make a good case,” he mutters.

“I know I do,” you grin, pressing your lips to kiss right behind the ear you were whispering in, marveling at how quickly his skin flushes red at your touch.

Both of you stop talking for a moment as the first dance starts, and the couples slowly start to head to the dance floor. “Lover” by Taylor Swift, Crystal’s choice, you guess; and you can’t help but think it’s a funny one. A love song, sure, but almost a cop-out of marriage if there ever was one. “I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover”… but not my husband. Backing away from the thought of forever commitment. I want all your summers but not your last name or your ring on my finger. Nothing to symbolize it, tie me to it.

“Can I have this dance?” Aaron asks you, and you wonder if he’s secretly a masochist. Maybe he likes to be teased and kept on edge.

You nod, though, and let him lead you out into the dance floor to join the other couples.

“Keeping enough room for Jesus?” you tease, looking down at the space between your bodies.

Scoffing, he pulls you closer by the waist, so there are millimeters of space between your bodies now, and you feel your face heat up as his hands stay on the small of your back. “Happy?”

“Happier,” you concede. “How do you know how to dance?”

“I was married before,” he reminds you. “It doesn’t seem like you know how, though.”

“Hmm?” you question, glaring at him.

“Your hands go on my shoulders. Or around my neck.”

“I knew that,” you mutter, placing your hands on his shoulders tentatively, catching his dark brown eyes with yours, shuddering at the intensity he was looking at you with. Taylor Swift continues to croon her undying love and you stare at this man, at this moment in your lifetime, fading away as you’re holding him close, swaying slowly to the music.

Love at first sight doesn’t exist. You rationalized that all away ages ago. Lust, sure. Lust is common, ordinary, every day.

But you know what lust looks like. It’s predatory looks from men across a dusky bar room or it’s wide-eyes, pupils-dilated, unbridled passion, kiss-bruised lips. But you weren’t getting any of that from the way he was looking at you.

And you know you’re going to see those eyes in your dreams, eyes you can glean pain from, eyes trying to reach the depths of your soul to see where you buried your hurt to rest too. Understand you, not the things you tell people when you make small talk like your college major or your favorite color but the things you tell people when they want to get to know you like your stance on God or presidential candidates or… marriage.

You don’t know where the hesitancy came from, all of a sudden, but it’s the intensity of his eyes and the heat radiating from his body and the lights are lower and the song is ending and you’re inching your face toward his and you’re not sure who touched their lips to whose first but his mouth is on yours now, and his eyes finally close. You watch them flutter close, long eyelashes brushing against yours as he lets himself envelop you without a word. You’ve never been kissed like this, so feather-light and without a hint of urgency, like he’s taking his time, like he’ll take the entire wedding reception to explore every square centimeter of your mouth with his own. Being you, though, you don’t have the patience for that, and you bring your hands from his shoulders to clasp around the back of his neck and you get the intensity you crave, parting his lips with your tongue, closing your eyes too, feeling his soft black hair brushing against the sides of your wrists and your bodies are pressed so close and you could get lost here, couldn’t you? - but then you feel someone tap your shoulder, and you break away from him with a squeal.

“Who is this that you’re sucking face with? I’ve never seen him before,” your mother says as you turn around.

“Ask Aunt Linda,” you laugh, trying to regain your composure. “I was enjoying myself.”

“Clearly,” she says, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “Is this some kind of protest?”

“No, his name is Aaron. Aaron, this is my mother,” you say.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he says, reaching out his hand for her to shake, smiling with his dimples in a way you’re sure made his ex-in-laws fall in love with him.

She reciprocates, but she shakes her head at the same time. “I’d prefer to have met you before you were wearing my daughter’s lipstick.”

“We can’t always get what we want,” you grin at your mother. “I think it suits him, anyway.”

“Of course you do,” she says. “Why didn’t you mention you were bringing a date?”

You shrug. “Just kind of happened. Like. You know. The wedding.”

“Oh. So this is a protest. I apologize, Aaron, for you being a part of her juvenile scheme.”

“It’s really not a bother. She’s a pleasure to be around,” he grins.

Your mother laughs. “You two really did just meet, huh? You have no idea.”

“Not very nice, Mom. Don’t scare him away. Maybe I can make this a joint wedding.”

“Hell would freeze over before you get married, darling,” she says, squeezing your shoulder. “Well. Have a good time. But please keep your hands off each other. We’ve got both sets of your grandparents here and we don’t need to be sending anyone into cardiac arrest.”

“Right, Mom,” you say, rolling your eyes as she walks away.

“I see where you get all of it from,” Aaron chuckles softly.

“I see you’re a major kiss-ass even if you’re never going to see my mom again,” you retort, stepping closer to him again.

“No harm in being polite.”

“That wasn’t just polite. That was being a kiss-ass. And you still have lipstick all over your mouth.”

Then you feel his mouth on you again, soft, thorough, warm. “Did I get it?” he asks, still smiling at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, then use the advantage you have to hold his face there and pepper kisses across his face, leaving red marks in the shape of you across his skin before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, kissing your mouth again, letting you take the lead again, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping onto your shoulders like your sand slipping through his fingers.

Because you are.

“I’m going to need to clean this off before I have to meet your father,” Aaron says, laughing. “I’ll be right back.”

Aaron doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, and he feels like he can’t recognize the man looking at him in the mirror, red lipstick smeared across his face, a seemingly permanent blush on his cheeks blending in with it. The cold water helps cool him down some, but then he thinks about you again, all smirks and quick remarks and the way you read him like a book… and he’s on fire again.

There’s no point in asking you where you’re moving. Even if it’s somewhere feasible to travel, his life and work schedule isn’t something he’d want to burden another woman with.

One night. No expectations except for a good time. That he could do, even if it was for a borderline child wedding not unlike the one he had over a decade ago.

Walking back out he sees you, eyes intense and smile lines formed at their corners as you talked to your brother, glass of champagne in your hand. “Oh, this is Aaron,” you tell him, your hand on Aaron’s back as he reaches you.

“Congratulations,” Aaron says, nodding at him.

“Thanks, man. Where the hell did you come from, though?”

“That’s my secret,” you say, grinning. “You don’t get to know.”

“Is this one going to last?”

“Doubt it,” you shrug. “Is yours?”

“Stop it,” he says, glaring at you. “I know you think I’m making a mistake. It’s already done. I don’t want to hear it anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” you say.

“At least I can keep a relationship longer than four months.”

“It hasn’t really been that much longer,” you counter.

“Well, I proposed instead of ending it.”

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning in for a side hug. “I don’t want to argue either. Go be with Crystal.”

Your brother nods, taking the hint the conversation was over, and Aaron takes the opportunity to sit down with you at one of the tables. “Is this common for you?”

“What? Taking men I don’t know to weddings? Far as I know you’re only one lucky enough,” you say tersely.

“I meant… relationships.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I try men on like I try on clothes. I’m a slut. Is that what you’re trying to get at?”

“No, not at all.”

You shake your head, sipping at the champagne and making a face at it, laughing at the acrid taste and handing it to him. “You can have that.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” Aaron says calmly, taking the glass from you, and drinking from it slowly. “There’s nothing wrong with this. It’s good champagne.”

“It tastes like ass,” you laugh, then frown. “You didn’t offend me. Yeah. I’ve had issues with relationships. No secret there. A normal, sane girl wouldn’t have asked you to come here, no offense.”

“A normal, sane man wouldn’t have said yes,” he replies, smiling, squeezing your hand that rested on the table. “Relationship issues are normal. No one in this room or in this city or on this planet has it figured out.”

“Did anyone try to stop you from getting married?” you ask him.

“Her mother wasn’t happy,” he recalls. “My parents figured I would figure it out. We were together through most of high school.”

“But you don’t know at that age.”

“No,” he agrees. “You don’t. Either they’ll be lucky and grow together or they’ll be unlucky and grow apart. But you don’t know unless you try.”

“The odds are—"

“They know that. I knew that. I still wanted to try anyway.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” Aaron admits. “Sometimes I do. I gave her a lot of years, and some of them weren’t good. A lot of them weren’t good, actually, a lot of strain and arguing and worrying about who she was seeing while I was away. But… I don’t know. You live and you learn.”

“Sometimes you do know,” you say sadly.

“Sometimes you try anyway,” he responds, bringing your hand to his lips.

You blink back tears and nod. One night. You can cry later.

Thankfully, the song changes to Cotton Eyed Joe; something ridiculous and impossible to stay down in the dumps for. Aaron glares at you but concedes when you give him a pleading look and you’re able to get him out on the floor to teach him this dance. He looks insane, what you can only imagine as a normally uptight, repressed man learning choreography from you for a novelty song.

Breathless and laughing he kisses you. Again. Again. Again. You don’t care about your mother’s warning and you’re glad he doesn’t either. You get the feeling he’s not one to embrace PDA like this either, but it’s one night for his mouth to be on yours, and the impression he leaves on your parents isn’t going to matter in a couple of hours anyway.

You think you’ll get whiplash from this setlist, the way it switches from upbeat to hopelessly sentimental, but Aaron rolls with the switches, pulling you back to him, swaying you gently to ‘Fade into You’. Resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him, you breathe him in. The woodsy scent of his cologne. The slight musk of his sweat. You feel his mouth press a long kiss against the top of your head.

And that’s how it ends, bringing you into a long hug at the trunk of your car the next morning, everything you own behind you. Both of you leaving this city. Heading home. You don’t talk about it. You don’t mention to him that you’d like to see him again. You don’t say anything.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way,” he says quietly, looking up at the sky, the clouds moving quickly overhead, threatening rain.

“Aaron, don’t,” you mutter. “We knew.”

“I know.”

Who do you get mad at for this? When it’s no one’s fault? God? Fate? The universe?

——------

Who do you thank for this? God? Fate? The Universe?

You walk into your new workplace, the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Gideon, who you interviewed with last week leads you through the building, giving you your badge, gun, and security clearance. It must be counterfeit. No one is this lucky.

Aaron realized why you looked so familiar the second your name was mentioned. He’d seen your file, read it through thoroughly, and noticed your photograph paper-clipped to it, but he was on a plane for a case and then just as quickly he was on a plane to Boston for the conference. Gideon was the only one present for the interview. Gideon was the one to hire you. Gideon was the one to walk you through the building to his desk to introduce himself to you.

You don’t even blink. “Guess it’s a good thing you were polite to my mother, sir,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake.

Never mind the fact he already kissed you and the entire length of his body was pressed against yours.

“You two know each other?” Gideon asks, looking between the two of you.

“You could say that,” Aaron answers, but he’s only looking at you. There must be a glitch. Maybe Boston was a dream. No. You remember it, too.

“Not the CIA. Close enough, I suppose,” you grin.

“Sure,” he says softly... because he doesn’t know what to say. When he pulled your resume and your background check again he knew to expect you to walk through these doors at 9 am. A couple of hours still wasn’t enough time to prepare. You… were blindsided though.

“What aren’t you telling me, Hotch?” Gideon asks. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“No, not at all,” he says, but he’s still only looking at you. “Can I talk with you? In my office?”

You nod, following him, closing the door behind you, and leaning against it. “Don’t you think you should introduce me to the rest of the team?”

“Why didn’t you mention this?” he asks, standing in front of his desk.

“Why didn’t you? You had a million times to mention you worked for the FBI.”

“When I said CIA…”

“I thought you were being funny. I thought you were a traveling lecturer for like, science or something. I don’t know. The FBI, Aaron?”

“I could say the same for you. Jesus,” he whispers, stepping a little closer to you.

“It’s kind of funny we were out a whole night and it never came up,” you say, grinning.

“Jesus,” he mutters again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So what happens now?”

“I don’t know. We work, like adults, and we move on.”

“I don’t know, Aaron. I think someone doesn’t want us to move on,” you shrug. “I can’t sit in here all day. You have to introduce me to the rest of the team before they think I am fucking you.”

He glares at you. “These comments won’t be permitted with the rest of the team present.”

“Jesus. I know when to shut my mouth, Aaron. In private, they’re permissible though, right?”

“I truly don’t know how I’m going to work with you,” he says, trying not to laugh.

“Guess you must be glad you didn’t fuck me before,” you say. “Would’ve been really awkward.”

“Agent… drop it. I do have to introduce you to them. Let’s go.”

But your back is pressed against the door and you know it’s a risk to tease your fucking boss on your first day, but you can’t help yourself because he’s not just your boss, he’s Aaron. The man who held your heels and walked you back to your hotel room, who kissed you outside the door but wouldn’t let you take him inside with you, even though you felt how much he wanted you, too.

You don’t move.

“I need you to move from the door, Agent.”

“I’m ‘Agent’ now? How clinical. We’re still in private, Aaron.”

“If this is how you’re going to play it, I will have you fired.”

“Right,” you say. “Don’t think so.”

“Try me.”

“Is that a threat, Aaron?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters. But he’s only looking at your mouth.

“Just kiss me,” you say. “I know you want to. Probably been thinking about it all morning since you realized—"

You’re cut off by his mouth against yours. “Are you wearing lipstick?” he asks against your lips.

“No,” you answer, pulling him closer, tongue against tongue, hips against hips.

“That’s all you’re getting, Agent,” he says. “I expect you to be nothing but professional. That means no teasing, no mention of Boston, no mention that we know each other even if they ask. Noncommittal answers only.”

“Aaron, 'noncommittal' is my middle name,” you grin. “It’s you I’m more worried about. I seem especially talented at weakening that seemingly strong resolve.”

“It’s Hotch in front of the team. Go,” he nods at the door.

——————

“You did a good job with her,” Aaron says to you on the plane. “Liz. The victim.”

You smile, thanking him. “Used to work in a children’s psych hospital when I was doing my undergrad. Lots of child trauma there. Learned how to get to the root of their stories.”

“You’ll be a good addition.”

“You didn’t think so before?”

“I thought you were going to make me lose my mind,” he admits, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. Thankfully, it was an overnight flight. Everyone was asleep, save you two.

“I still might.”

Aaron nods, grinning, dimples on full display. “That you may.”

“What’s going to happen between us?”

“Nothing should.”

“I didn’t ask you what should. I asked you what is.”

“What do you want?”

You laugh. “I mean, Aaron, I’m the last girl to believe in fate, but that was a pretty big coincidence to ignore. And you keep kissing me whenever we’re alone.”

“You keep getting me alone,” he mutters, taking your hand and threading your fingers through his.

“Yeah, it’s my fault you can’t keep your hands or your mouth off me.”

“Shh,” he scolds.

“It’s true,” you say. “Anyway. You know what I want. I want you.”

“I want you, too,” he admits. “But this is a precarious situation and I’m not risking my career just for sex.”

“Aaron. We aren’t going to get any bigger signs from the universe that we need to try this. I’m open to it. We can try this. For real.”

“You believe that? It was fate?”

You laugh. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Crazy coincidence, if nothing else.”

Aaron looks around suspiciously, kissing your mouth gently when he confirms no one is watching.

Which is nothing how he kisses you later in your new apartment, searing hot against your skin as his fingers circle your clit softly, leaving you to whimper against his mouth. You’re jet-lagged and overly full from breakfast when you landed but you’re wide awake and needy when it comes to him now.

“Aaron,” you whine. “Need you. Now.”

“You have me, honey,” he teases, leaning forward to lay you down on the bed, using the angle to fuck his fingers into you relentlessly. “Better?”

“Fuck,” you say, nodding.

“So wet for me, honey,” he coos at you. “Such a good girl.”

You know you’re embarrassingly close from his ministrations with his hands, so quick to get there from being so worked up since Boston, having to go a whole week hiding this secret, sneaking off into side rooms just to press his mouth and body against yours.

You still don’t expect it to rip through you like that until you’re left shaking and moaning his name. You don’t expect his cock to fill you even better, up to the hilt. You don’t expect him to flip you over so you’re on top, able to watch him blush and whimper from your teasing, telling him he’s fucking up into you so good.

You definitely don’t expect him to suggest round two and go down on you.

Then again. You didn’t expect the man you took to your brother‘s wedding on happenstance to be your fucking boss. That you’re fucking now. Apparently.

“How long do you think we can hide this from a room full of profilers, Aaron?”

“Shut up,” he says, laughing, kissing you, hair all mussed up, making him look deliciously freshly fucked. “You’re good at holding on and holding out.”

“You’re not.”

“Only when it comes to you, honey,” he says, pulling you into him.

“They’ll figure it out because of something you did,” you wager.

“I shouldn’t take that bet,” he says. “But I will.”

And sure enough. When you nearly got shot, and of course Aaron ran to your side, checking you for wounds, kissing the top of your head when he realized you were safe and okay…

Morgan was watching. And it spread through the team like wildfire. Naturally.

“How long?”

“Since Boston,” you answer.

“Wait…” Gideon chimes in.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Aaron says.

------

taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch​

[infiniteeight8]

Anything in the Tony and Soul Stone' verse? I've said it before and I'll say it again - I love it!

I feel a little bit like I have to apologize for this installment in the series, because I don’t think anyone was looking forward to it, and I suspect it’s not what you were looking forward to when you prompted more in the ‘verse. And there’s no Stephen, and no Soul (speaking, anyway). But I seem to be writing this story in chronological order, and we have to go through this part to get to the rest of the fun, romance, and stone-bearer stuff that I have in my head for the future. So I hope you’ll forgive me.

This is Pepper and Tony breaking up. Lest you skip it because I’ve written that before, allow me a small spoiler, since it’s different from what I’ve done before: Tony is the one doing the breaking up this time. (Although I’ll admit that the reasoning is very similar to what I’ve used from the other side.)

Links

Most of Tony & Soul can be found here.

The most recent instalment is on Tumblr here. (It'll be added to the series eventually, but it isn't there yet.)

-

Tony is waiting on the couch when Pepper gets home. He’d been tempted to have a drink for this conversation, but he’d decided that he wanted the clearest possible head. And also that it might send the wrong message to Pep. So instead of fussing with a glass, he’s fussing with his phone. 

“Tony,” Pepper says warmly when she steps off the elevator. Tony sets aside his phone and straightens up a bit, looking up at her as she crosses the room. “Were you waiting for me? I’m sorry, if I’d known I wouldn’t have stayed as late.”

It’s not terribly late, but Tony had still spent the last two hours torn between calling her so that he could get this over with and not wanting this to happen any sooner. To be honest, he’d still been debating when FRIDAY told him Pepper was en route. “I was waiting,” he says, because it’s obvious. “But it’s fine. I could’ve called.”

Pepper slowly sinks down onto the couch. She starts to speak, then stops. Finally, she sighs, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. “I get the feeling we’re not here to talk about starting wedding planning again.”

Tony huffs humorlessly. “No, we’re not.” He runs his fingers over the bracelet housing Soul. The stone is quiet. Tony hadn’t actually asked for that, but it’s Soul. They know. Taking a deep breath, Tony looks up and meets Pepper’s gentle gaze. “You’re one of the most important people in my life, and I hope that will always be true, but I don’t want to marry you, Pep. I don’t want us to be in a relationship anymore.”

Pepper nods sharply and drops her gaze, blinking rapidly. Her fingers twist together for a moment before she deliberately smooths them out over her knees. “Why?”

“You’ve been putting up with me for a long time,” Tony says. “You put up with me screwing around, you put up with my recovery—”

“Tony—”

He holds up a hand. “Let me finish, please.” Pepper bites her lip briefly, but nods. Tony takes a break and goes on. “You put up with Iron Man and all the fights and me flying off into space more than once. And I was grateful for that for a long time. Really. But a relationship shouldn’t be about putting up with each other.”

Pepper can’t resist breaking in. “If you’re doing this for me—”

Tony shakes his head sharply. “I’m not,” he says firmly. “I’m doing it because while a lot of that stuff is past, Iron Man isn’t. I expect the battles aren’t. And I don’t want a partner who looks at that part of me and my life and sees it as a negative they have to cope with. I want someone who’s going to be a part of that life, whether that’s literally or figuratively.” Tony reaches up and touches the nanobot housing that he’s wearing. “I want someone who isn’t waiting for me to take this off.”

“Tony,” Pepper says carefully, “you’re not going to be Iron Man forever. You’re 48 years old. No matter how good the suit is, someday you’ll be too old to wear it.”

No, I won’t, Tony thinks. Soul told him right at the start that immortality was part of the deal. But he hasn’t told anyone about Soul. Stephen is the only one who knows. Just thinking about telling Pepper feels wrong. 

“Even if I put the suit aside,” he says aloud, because with multiple lifetimes on the table, that might well happen one day, “I’ll still be Iron Man. Iron Man isn’t the suit, Pep. It’s answering the call when the shit hits the fan. I’m always going to answer, even if it’s for,” Tony smiles, “tech support.”

Pepper laughs and brushes away a couple of tears. “I should have known,” she says. “When you ran off into space the last time. I should have known then.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know, either,” Tony offers. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since I got back. About the reality of my life, instead of the fantasy. About what I want my life to look like, now and later.”

“And I’m not in it,” Pepper says. She sounds sad, but not disappointed. It’s a bit of a relief.

Tony shakes his head. “You’re in it. As a friend.”

“Well.” Pepper stands and wipes her cheeks dry of tears again. Going to the bar, she pours a couple of drinks. Returning to Tony, she hands him a glass and then extends her for a toast. “To friends.”

“To friends,” Tony echoes.

They clink glasses.

[caffernnn]

henlo the juice in that mh separation au sounds BANGING and if you feel like it i would love to press X for more dialogue 👀👀👀💕

(it took a bit for me to loop back around to this BUT let’s goooo!! Thanks for showing interest beloved 💕)

The mh separation/reunion AU (do I have a name outside of the song that first inspired it? It could be like the “something blue” AU for like. Wedding reasons. ANYWAY) is fun largely because it’s a chance to explore how Haru isolating himself or running long-term could’ve affected the Tachibanas, but I’ve been lingering a little more lately on the Haru details of those years spent apart. In this universe, it’s not as if Haru and Makoto dramatically never talk again after the fireworks fight, but something… shifts. This time, Haru doesn’t have that quick turnaround on what he wants to do with his future, especially in a way that has him (still confused and cagey) ready to uproot and choose Tokyo. So, he watches his friends get ready to transition into their hopeful futures, chase after their dreams, and tries to fade into the background. Out of everything he feels, the two he learns to put a name to are “unremarkable” and “untethered.” This is what he said he wanted once, right? To be “ordinary,” to be “free?” He doesn’t let anyone close enough to tell him otherwise and uses those two emotions as his reason to recede further into himself and away from the people who (he convinces himself) are ready to let him go in pursuit of the future. He doesn’t repeat his blow-ups with Rin or Makoto, but he resigns himself to both of them leaving as an inevitability, and he plans to do exactly what he did as a scared kid every other time somebody decided to leave: throw himself into the familiarity of routine and creature comforts for as long as possible until he feels safe enough to take another step.

I don’t have the clearest idea of Haru’s entire timeline between one of the last times the Tachibanas see Haru (right before Makoto plans on moving to his apartment) and when Ran finds him at his uncle’s bakery, but I’ve been think about how those years might look to him in retrospect, specifically in the context of Ran reintroducing the possibility of Haru seeing Makoto again after so long. He was recruited by extended family over into their business and their lives at his lowest/bleakest (practically unreachable to all of his friends and almost hiding away in his house from the town he thought he wanted to cling to), and his time with them led to inevitable changes and a life forming for him, whether he intended it or not. As much as he wants to say these years are divorced from his friends and life before, that’d be a lie and a disservice to all of the memories that shaped him.

For all of the ways he tries to avoid thinking about Makoto… some nights, man. I think I said it before, but it’s like trying to forget the feeling of hunger until one mundane trigger makes you realize you’re starving. Of course his best friend’s influence is woven into many of the ways he relearns and knows how to care for the world (build himself a present, if not a future, piece by piece), and every little bit that he notices is a reminder of how much Haru misses him. Whether it’s all platonic, romantic, or something else entirely, Haru only knows that it’s heavy and haunting. He misses having him in any form beyond a memory.

But, Haru left first. He’s the one that stretched the distance between them until he couldn’t hear Makoto call out his name anymore. What was he supposed to do, chase him belatedly? Try and covet that big bright spirit for himself after being the one to push it away in all of his fear? There were so many nights here and there where he thought about reaching out, but he didn’t know what would hurt worse: seeing how Makoto moved on and didn’t need or want Haru back in his life, or being welcomed back hastily just to disappoint him again. Time stretched on, the yearning/reminiscence came in as sporadic pangs, and Haru could never bring himself to reach out (out of fear, out of shame, out of… a lot of things, really). “The one that got away” and “right person, wrong time,” so it goes.

Those old resignations all get called into question as soon as Ran has anything to say about it, though. She is going to have those idiots face each other one way or another, because the few meetings she spends back around Haru again makes clear something she has maintained the whole time: Haru didn’t stop caring about them, not really. Soooo, why not make planning her special day a chance to scheme a little bit, just to see what happens?

[yandere-fics]

Josephine Anderson

♡ "Aww I'm really sorry about the blood, dolly, I just... I need to see you, can you come here please?" ♡

She's a silent delusional yandere, you won't hear a word out of her mouth as you hang out for months until one day she tries to kiss you and you realize she thinks you two are dating. It's so frustrating cause you've been together for months but haven't expressed any affection to her. She's fully aware you must be shy, but it's really hurting her. Not to worry, she'll make the first move, she just doesn't understand why you shoved her away. She doesn't enjoy this hard to get act. She should have a perfect life with her darling, one where she eliminates all the obstacles and you lavish her in affection for being such a good protector. She sees her love as the best form of love and so when she says she loves you then you should obviously know that means you shouldn't talk to anyone she disapproves of. She also won't tell you if you've crossed a boundary though since she thinks you should obviously know why she's killing that person.

♡ "It's Josephine but please don't call me that. I hate it when people call me that, I'd rather you call you Sophie or Soph instead." ♡

The Anderson family is a very prominent religious family within the region although they never come to the seaside anymore after discovering their eldest daughter decided to move to a small coastal town. Sophie faked her death when she was 17 to live with Skylar once she found out where her parents were sending the payments. She doesn't go by the Anderson name though she won't outright deny it being her last name if you ask but she really would prefer you never mention anything to do with her last name. It was a very gruesome fake death scene. No one outside of her sisters is aware that Sophie is alive.

♡ "21, I don't fully understand the point of these questions, dolly. If you want to know more you should ask Skylar, I'm sure she'd be glad to see her future sister-in-law." ♡

Sophie doesn't actually remember alot of their childhood, Skylar was the one who kept track of these things so if you really want to know anything about her then the best person to ask is the one who practically raised Sophie. Though be warned, Sophie might take this as accepting her proposal and thus she'll start to toss money at you to plan the wedding.

♡ "Stupid question, I'm only interested in you so get whatever weird idea you had out of your head." ♡

She's a lesbian, run of the mill for this blog though.

♡ "It's not something you should worry your head about, all I'll say is I'm good at my job and I make enough for us to be secure." ♡

She's not a permanent member of the syndicate but she occasionally picks up odd jobs that the official members don't wish to take on. She makes good money from it though it's dangerous work. She'd never allow it to be traced back to her though and the members already know better than to mess with her or her family since she's mostly tasked with killing traitors to the organization.

♡ "I like knives." ♡

She didn't feel the need to specify that she likes you since you should be smart enough to know that anyways. She likes her family and she likes knives, a simple gal, what can I say? She has a decent collection of them. She also really enjoys the idea of being domestic although like the other sisters, her idea of a perfect family with her darling is not normal. She really loves the idea of you waiting at home for her, possibly hanging out with her sisters, and greeting her with joy when she gets home from killing.

♡ "..." ♡

She is refraining from saying what she hates as she doesn't want to scare you, she may be delusional but she also realizes that at times she can be scary to people who aren't Skye. She hates a lot of things, she hates her parents, she hates dirt, she hates when you leave the house without inviting her to come with, she hates people who try to lie and tell you that her love for you is crazy, really there's just too much that she dislikes.

♡ "I'm good at organizing things. You also know, I'm very good at taking care of you, dolly." ♡

Her knife collection is meticulously organized despite her not being able to keep many other things clean, she's not dirty but she gets blood everywhere but if you opened her knives then you would assume that they had never been used based on how spotless they are. I suppose being that delusional is a bit of a skill too though.

♡ "Hmm? Oh no, you're not going back to your 'home' tonight. It's much safer for me to just keep you here. Would you like that doll? Would you like it if I just kept you safeguarded here? There's no need to deny it, I know you would, heh." ♡

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Philip | Perfectly Compatible | Romantic

Dialogue prompt: “Aren’t you afraid of what your father would think?”

Requested: Yes

On your wedding day, you think back on fragments of memories that have led up to this day – how you met Philip as well as how you fell in love, and the marriage your father arranged for you with Rabbi Yussif.

You can barely see where you place your feet as your mother guides you to your future husband who stands at the other side of the aisle, your face cloaked with a thick kallah that shields you from any curious pair of eyes. You don’t mind it, for it prevents anyone from seeing the tears that shiver on the brims of your eyes, threatening to spill. 

Your mother squeezes your arm and places you next to your fiancé, whose arm you take tightly. Underneath your touch, you feel him flex, acknowledging your presence without saying anything. Soft music drifts around the room, the tension in the room tangible.

“You look beautiful.” he whispers with warmth in his voice, and you have to choke back a sob. Hearing your father exchange a few words with the Rabbi who is supposed to establish the marriage, you allow your thoughts to wander to fragments of the past, all which have led to this very moment.

_ 

The first memory your mind settles on is clear as day.

Lost, you stand in the bustling streets of Capernaum with something akin to hopelessness over your features, turning left and right in your search, appearing vulnerable more than anything. It is painfully apparent that you’re not from around here, but you are too preoccupied to be embarrassed about it.

“Excuse me– Shalom? Can I ask you—” 

Your attempts to ask for guidance are in vain and you are left to wander for what feels like hours on end. So much for a warm welcome, you bitterly think to yourself, but you aren’t here at your own will anyways. 

“Shalom, ma’am, you look like you can use some help.”

You turn to the sudden voice that sounds behind you with widened eyes and are met with the kind face of a man with dark wavy hair and a full beard. “You seem lost.” he says, and you flush. 

“It’s that obvious, huh?” you huff, but the stranger simply chuckles.

“Not to worry, I’m not from here, either. I’m from Betsaïda. I’m here with… Friends, if you will. What are you looking for?” His expression is gentle.

You clear your throat and tuck a strand of (h/c) hair behind your ear. “Ah, I’m looking for the synagogue, actually. My father told me to meet him there, and… Well. I’m not sure where it is, I’ve only just arrived minutes ago, and now I don’t know where to go.”

The man hums and nods. “I see. Coincidentally, I was just on my way there as well. Let’s head there together.” 

He smiles and the sight makes your heart flutter inside your chest for reasons unknown. With a word of gratitude on your lips, you walk next to him as you head for the synagogue. 

“So, does your father live here, then? I might know him.” the stranger attempts to make small talk. You give a small shake of your head and let out a small noise.

“Ah, no. We’re staying with friends for the time being.”

The man whom you do not yet know the name of frowns. “Why would he send you to find the synagogue on your own? A nice lady like you should not be going out on her own, especially in a village like this.” The comment makes your cheeks red. “What are you planning on doing at synagogue?”

“Well,” you hum, “My father works there as a Rabbi.”

The kind stranger allows a sound of surprise to escape him. “You’re the daughter of a Rabbi? Now that is a very honourable position.”

“Do you think so?”

He nods firmly. “Of course.” the stranger states, “I reckon you must be familiar with a lot of Scripture.”

You give an affirmative answer and his brow raises, impressed. “That is very applaudable!”

Just when you think you can’t blush any harder, the man compliments you again. “Oh, only because I have been taught such things from a young age. I simply don’t know any better.”

The man shows his palms in defence and smirks. “Hey, all I’m saying is that it’s quite the achievement and that you shouldn’t just brush it off.”

In pleasant silence, you keep on walking through the village. You veer right and then left and right again, until the features of a synagogue appear. The pair of you head up the stairs and the man gestures inside, shrugging a bit. “Well, that’s the synagogue. I’ll be heading the other way to pray.” 

With a small hum, you take a peek inside and see the door your father had told you to meet him at, the second one to the left, and then turn to the stranger again. “Thank you. Without you, I would still have been lost for who knows how long.”

He laughs – a sound that is like music to your ears – and puts a hand on his chest. “It was the least I could do. Have a good day now. Shalom shalom.”

“Shalom shalom,” you repeat as he brushes past you into the building, and you momentarily watch him as he stalks off in preparation of his prayer. He seems like he has a kind heart, you think to yourself.

Clearing your throat, you call after him.

“Uh– Sir, wait a second!” The stranger halts and pivots to look at you, raising an eyebrow in question. You swallow thickly. “I didn’t quite catch your name.”

He chuckles. “Ha, it’s been a while since anyone has called me ‘sir’. I’m Philip.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Philip.” you say with a small smile. “My name is (Y/n).”

Philip mouths your name without any sound, as if trying to figure out what it feels like on his lips, and he grins with a subtle bow of his head. “Pleasure is all mine, (Y/n). I’ll see you around, perhaps.” 

You mirror his courtesy before turning to meet your father at last, a strange bubbly feeling setting your stomach aflutter.

–

Another fragment fronts. 

You sit with your father and a Pharisee you do not know. Your mother stands behind you, nervously fiddling with her hands, her skittish behaviour making you uncomfortable. The solemn expression on your father’s features makes you think that something is wrong, or that you have said something out of turn, and that you must now atone–

“This is Rabbi Yussif.” your father speaks at last. For a moment, your eyes flit to the young man who seems gentle in his demeanour, and he gives you a small, respectful bow of his head. Something shy shimmers behind his gaze.

“Shalom…” you greet him, uncertain. “I’m… Not sure what I’m doing here.”

Your father looks at Yussif, then back at you. “He’s going to be your husband.” he promptly states.

All air is being knocked from your lungs as your jaw falls agape at the revelation. For a moment, you think that your ears are deceiving you, but when neither of your parents say a word, you realise that they are waiting for your response. “What?”

“Your abba and I had not yet discussed it with you, dear, but we think this is the best for you. You are nearing your late twenties and are not yet married, so we were worried.” your mother explains, putting a hand on your shoulder. You resist the urge to shrug it off. 

“Worried?! What for? I’ve got plenty of time to find a spouse, what do you–”

Your father slams a fists on the table and successfully shuts you up in turn. “Don’t say a word, young lady. You’d better show some gratitude. We have found you a kind and Godly man, one that has devoted his life to the service of Adonai. He will provide for you and you will have a family with him. You might not understand me now but you will eventually.”

As you stand, the legs of the chair scrape against the tiles loudly, but you don’t flinch at the noise. “I-I refuse!” With tears in your eyes, you take a shivering breath as your father begins to protest your opposition, but you don’t hear him anymore. Rushing out of the room, you ignore your mother’s plea as she calls after you.

You miss the concerned eyes of Philip who witnesses you run out of the synagogue, grief visible on your face. 

_ 

You think back on the moment you ran into Philip a few weeks after your betrothal. 

"Shalom, (Y/n).”

You look up from your reading and find him a little away, holding a piece of papyrus. “Oh, shalom, Philip. How do you do?”

He smiles and shows you the scroll under his arm. “I’m looking for a partner to analyse this text of Isaiah with me. Prophecies about the Messiah, to be more exact. But no one seems to be very keen on doing so.”

Curiously, you smile. “That’s interesting. My father has taught me many things about it. I would like to study and discuss it with you.”

Surprise covers his features. “You would? I-I mean… Aren’t you afraid of what your father would think?”

Looking around to see if the coast is clear – after all, it was not necessarily conventional for a woman to chat with a man who wasn’t her family member or betrothed like this – and lean towards him. “He doesn’t need to know.” you whisper, which earns you a wide grin from Philip. 

“Wonderful,” he says, “Let’s find a secluded area so that we will not be disturbed.”

You leave behind your own study materials to go with him, keen on learning more about Torah.

_ 

You should have seen it coming from far away, yet you didn’t heed your own internal warning.

Rabbi Yussif was not a bad man in the regard of being an optional husband. He was nice enough and treated you with respect and dignity, yet the abashed nature of his being remained no matter how much time you spent with him in the run-up to your wedding.

In secret, you meet with Philip behind the synagogue to discuss Torah passages you read and to analyse prophecies to tie to your current day over the span of months. It was only a matter of time before you truly fell in love with him. 

You feel guilty. The man from Betsaida is not yet aware of your status and you aren’t keen on telling him either, fearing that he’d repel you out of respect for your future spouse, but it begins to nag at you. 

The two of you grow closer as time passes, and once he starts showing genuine interest in you when it comes to romance, you simply break. 

“I would like to ask your father for your hand.” Philip says to you one day. 

It prompts you to fall apart right then and there, your heart racing inside your chest as you begin to sob. 

For a few minutes, he holds you in silence as you cry against his shoulder, embarrassed. 

“I’m so sorry, Philip.” you whimper, “I-I hope you can forgive me for not telling you. I adore spending time with you and I did not mean to lead you on. I adore you. It’s just… I-I’m already engaged.” 

The hurt that flashes behind his eyes shatters your heart in a thousand pieces. Philip’s brow knits together into a frown and you cannot think of a moment you have felt more ashamed than the way you are feeling right now. “I see.”

“I-I don’t love him. My… My father wanted me to marry him. He is a good man, a Godly man, but I don’t love him the way I love…” Your sentence trails off and you gulp, rubbing away your tears with your sleeve. “I’m sorry, Philip, but we can’t be together.”

He says nothing, instead gives you a friendly hug before he steps away. “In that case, (Y/n), I want to apologise for making things so difficult for you. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” 

The words that you have feared so much knocks all hope from you. Shaking your head, you whisper softly: “No, please, no.”

“It would be wrong of me to pursue you, (Y/n). It would not be proper. I’m sorry.”

Whilst tears ran down your cheeks, he stood and bid you a final farewell. You had never been so heartbroken before and you witnessed him stalk off, defeat in his shoulders, your hope for true love fading.

_ 

You remember the moment Yussif noticed something was up. 

“I know you don’t want to marry me.” he tells you with genuine apology in his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Shrugging, you sigh. “Does it matter?”

“I think it does. If we are to be together for the rest of our lives, I want to know how I can help you feel better.”

A bitter comment poises itself onto your tongue but you swallow it, for Yussif does not deserve whatever negative thing you have to say about him. Even more so, it is not about the man himself per say, but rather that he is simply not Philip.

“There is someone else, isn’t there?”

Your eyes shoot up in shock and your jaw slacks. “How did you know?”

Yussif’s eyes are watery as he smiles wryly. “I didn’t, but I had my suspicions, and now I know for sure. I’m sorry that your father has not chosen him for you.”

Ashamed, you lower your gaze. “It is not because there is something wrong with you, Yussif, bygones. It’s just… What I have with him is just… My father would never approve, because he’s not a Rabbi. I wish things were different.”

“So do I. I think you are a beautiful woman, (Y/n), both inside and out. Any man should count themselves lucky to be at your side, and I really want to start a family. But what kind of monster would I be if I stole you away from the love of your life?” 

Dumbfounded, you stare at the Rabbi. Had you not been in love with Philip, you are sure you would have been able to love him. Under any other circumstances, you would have been able to see your parents’ side of things, for Yussif deserves a wife who can give him all the love he is worthy of. Kind, gentle Yussif, who is entitled to someone way better than you, someone who loves him in the same way he’d love her.

“Then what should we do?” you whisper on the verge of crying. 

With a wistful smile, Yussif sighs. “I think we both know what we must do to set this straight.”

_ 

You are snapped back to reality, out of the memories that have replayed themselves in your mind over and over again in the past months. 

The hymns sung led by the cantor die down at last as the ceremony commences, and you can hear your heartbeat drumming inside your ears. The flowers adorning the chuppah the pair of you are standing under flood your senses with their beautiful scent.

“Are you ready to be married?” your groom whispers just for you to hear, as the Rabbi takes his stance. 

You blink your tears away and smile at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, Philip.” you say underneath your opaque shroud, “More than ever.”

[writingwhimsey]

"I do, My Love!"- Shingen- Pt 2 The Wedding

Alright here is part 2 of my Shingen wedding story event! I hope you all enjoy!

After announcing our engagement, our friends were spending much time in Kai, helping us to plan the wedding. Though I am not sure how much help Kenshin and Yukimura were. Yukimura was being his usual self and Kenshin…was full of…ideas.

“I am looking forward to this and I want to thank you so much for allowing me to help with the planning.” Yoshimoto declared. I had asked him to help with flower arrangements and with picking out the right fabric for my dress. He had a great eye for these things and he was genuinely happy for Shingen and I.

“I want to thank you for agreeing.” I replied, smiling.

“So, what exactly are your plans for the wedding anyways?” Yukimura asked.

“Are you planning to incorporate traditions from our time?” Sasuke asked, since everyone in the room knew he and I were originally from the future.

“I was thinking it might be fun to.” I answered.

“Of course we will.” Shingen said, wrapping his arm around me. “I want this to be the wedding of your dreams.”

I smiled. “I think you being the groom accomplishes that.”

Shingen’s smile was warm and affectionate as he looked at me. “As you being the bride makes it my dream.”

“I imagine the traditions will make for a very romantic ceremony.” Yoshimoto said. “With the things you, Shingen, and Sasuke have told me of the future, it seems there is more time for beauty and romance.”

“It’s especially romantic when the bride and groom write their own vows.” Sasuke said.

I smiled thinking about such a thing for our wedding. Shingen would definitely be able to write such wonderful vows. Though I didn’t know if my own words would ever be enough to express my love for the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

“I know how to make it more romantic.” Kenshin spoke up for the first time, looking up over his sake cup. “I can fight you to the death and with your dying breath, you can tell Ava your vows of your unending love for her.”

Shingen and I were both giving Kenshin a look. “Ava did not save my life only for me to die so needlessly on our wedding day.” Shingen replied. “And I would very much like to live more than just a few breaths as the husband to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Oh, Shingen.”

“I don’t see Lord Shingen dying on their wedding day as a romantic notion.” Sasuke agreed. “Besides who would you fight then if you killed your greatest rival?”

“There’s still the Oda.” Kenshin remarked.

“How about we stop talking about battling anyone?” I suggested. Though I knew true peace between the Uesugi-Takeda alliance and the Oda forces was a long way off, I still longed for it. I truly hoped that my friends on both sides could come to an agreement. 

“We are in a cease-fire agreement with them.” Sasuke reminded Kenshin.

Kenshin grumbled under his breath, but went to sip his sake.

Shingen leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “I promise there will be no battle on our wedding day.” He said, smiling warmly at me.

I returned the smile. “Good. I figure as long as we have enough sake and pickled plumbs, we should be able to avoid a stabby Kenshin.” I replied. Though when I looked into those handsome gray eyes, I saw something. Shingen was a master at reading people… me not so much. Though I had become better at reading Shingen. There was something in his eyes that told me he was up to something.

Shingen chuckled. “I certainly hope so.”

After this meeting, I was heading into town with Yoshimoto and my fellow seamstresses to do some fabric shopping. “Oh, thank you so much for letting us join you, Lady Ava and Lord Yoshimoto.” Kana said, an excited smile on her face.

“Yes, it is truly an honor to get to help you with finding the right fabric for your wedding…dress as you called it.” Mitsuki agreed. “I can’t wait to get to work on this new piece with you.”

I smiled. “I’d never be able to get it done on time without help.” I replied. “And thank you all so much for agreeing to help me.”

“I am rather excited to get to see this new creation from you.” Yoshimoto said. “And I am happy to help you find the perfect fabric. The design you showed me is exquisite.”

“And it’s going to be a challenge for us all to make, but I think it’s going to be a fun challenge.” Mitsuki said.

“And then we can maybe use some of these same designs when you and Haru get married.” I added.

Mitsuki giggled. “Maybe…though I really would like your help with my wedding kimono…should that day come.”

“Oh it will.” Kana said. 

“And I will be happy to help you just as you are helping me.” I replied, smiling happily. I felt so lucky to have such good friends who were so willing to help me.

We ended up having a very productive time shopping, finding the exact fabrics I needed. My next few weeks were spent working on my dress and planning the wedding and reception banquet. It was a very busy time and I was just so honestly happy. I was planning my wedding to the man I love.

It was finally the day before the wedding and we were all gathering for a banquet. It was mostly just to keep Kenshin from getting bored…it seems sparring with Sasuke and Yukimura were getting weren’t quite enough…so we were holding a pre-wedding banquet. Or at least this is what I thought.

“This banquet isn’t so bad.” Kenshin said. “You have at least gotten some good sake in.”

“Just make sure you don’t drink it all tonight. We have to have more for the banquet tomorrow after the wedding.” Sasuke said.

“And you better not eat all of the sweets tonight Lord Shingen.” Yukimura scolded Shingen, who sat beside me with a tray piled high with nothing but sweets.

“There’s still plenty for the wedding tomorrow.” Shingen replied.

“I should take away some of those sweets.” Yukimura said. “You would think with your health being such a concern, you’d want to do better with your second chance.”

“I suppose I could cut back…though I will just have to have more of my favorite sweet then.” Shingen replied, a playful smile on his lips. His arms were then wrapping around me and pulling me close. “This sweet has been nothing but good for my health.” He was then playfully nibbling my cheek.

I giggled as my cheeks reddened. “Shingen…”

Yukimura rolled his eyes. “Fine I changed my mind, you can eat all the sweets you want. Just save…whatever this is for your honeymoon.”

Before anymore could be said there was the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall. I could even hear a bit of commotion from the maids and soon the doors were opening to the banquet hall and I was stunned by the figures who came in and the voices that greeted us.

“There’s our fireball.”

“Our little mouse really did catch herself a tiger.”

Before I even had a chance to react, Kenshin was rising and pulling out his sword and pointing it at my friends from the Oda forces. “Finally this party isn’t so boring.” He declared.

“You would dare attack a guest?” Nobunaga asked, lifting a haughty brow at Kenshin.

I felt Shingen stiffen beside me, but he took some breaths to calm himself. “Kenshin, you know they were invited and not for battle.” Shingen said. “I told you of this already.”

“It doesn’t mean that plans can’t change.” Kenshin countered.

“Lord Kenshin, you have more honor than to attack a guest.” Sasuke spoke up, holding a sake cup out to Kenshin.

“Sasuke and I will spare extra with you.” Yukimura added.

“And I’ll throw in a sparring match with you when I return from my honeymoon.” Shingen added.

“I’m happy to have a friendly sparring match before we leave.” Masamune spoke up with a grin. “But it has to be after the wedding. I have a feast to prepare beforehand.”

Kenshin was begrudgingly sheathing his sword and then sitting back down, taking the sake from Sasuke. “I am holding all of you to that. You should all come at me at once. It will be more fun that way.”

“I…what’s…what’s going on?” I asked, feeling utterly confused.

“You didn’t think we were going to miss your wedding now, did you lass?” Masamune asked.

“Or the chance to perhaps talk you out of it and convince you to come back home to Azuchi with your family.” Hideyoshi said, looking at me.

“The tiger invited us.” Nobunaga said.

I looked over at Shingen. “You…invited them?”

Shingen glared at the group before turning a loving smile to me. “Of course. I may not be fond of them, but I know you are and still think of them as your family.” He told me. “And you should get to have all of the people you care about around you on your wedding day.”

I felt tears of happiness stinging my eyes. “Oh, Shingen thank you!” I said, hugging him. 

Shingen smiled and kissed the top of my head. “Anything for you, my angel.” He told me.

I was then looking at my friends, smiling at them. “And thank you for agreeing to come. I’m so happy you’ll all be here for our wedding!”

“Come in and enjoy the feast.” Shingen said to the Oda forces, though I could tell he did it with a hint of venom. I knew this was hard for him and I truly appreciated everything he had done for me.

The Oda forces all came to sit down and enjoy the meal. There was a bit of tension, but with some effort it was broken and the party continued without any problems. Though there were times I could see Shingen glaring at Nobunaga and Nobunaga just smirking right back at him. We managed to make it through the night without anyone killing each other.

The next day when I awoke, I was being given the full royal spa treatment. The maids helped me to bathe and wash my hair, massaging special oils into my skin and hair. I was setting out my makeup when there was a knock on my door. My friends from the Oda were coming in, Masamune carrying a tray of my breakfast.

“What are you all doing in here?” I asked.

“We came to help you get ready, Lady Ava.” Mitsunari answered.

“Not all of us. Some of us were dragged in here against our will.” Ieyasu said. “Or to make sure a bumbling cabbage head didn’t make you look worse.”

I smiled at them. “Thanks…you guys really don’t have to help though. You just being here is enough.”

“Of course we are here to help. You are still an Oda Princess and my lucky charm.” Nobunaga declared. “We will make sure you have a look befitting your station.”

“Lord Nobunaga is right.” Hideyoshi agreed.

I was soon eating the breakfast Masamune had made for me, which was delicious. Once that was done, Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide were fussing over my hair while Ieyasu was dragging Mitsunari out saying he should help him get rid of the breakfast tray. I was surprised when Nobunaga sat down across from me and was picking up my makeup.

“You don’t have to do that Nobunaga…” I tried to protest.

“Nonsense.” Nobunaga replied. “Now sit still while I apply this.”

I did as instructed, though I was already relatively still so that Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi could fix my hair. Nobunaga was picking up a brush and the liner. “Close your eyes, Ava.” I followed his instruction and closed my eyes as the Devil King of The Sixth Heaven applied my eyeliner.

I was surprised by how gentle Nobunaga’s movements were as he applied my makeup. Once he had finished my eyeliner he told me to keep my eyes closed. That was when I felt a calloused finger at the corners of my eyes before coming to my lips.

I opened my eyes in surprise and then Nobunaga was holding out a hand mirror for me. “There.” He said, smiling at me and if I wasn’t mistaken there was a bit of warmth in his eyes. “You look like a bride.”

I looked in the mirror, taking note of my reflection as Nobunaga wiped rouge from his fingertips. The makeup was simple and yet elegant. He had done a rather good job. My hair was put up in an elegant style with a few beautifully decorated combs and hair sticks.

“Thank you.” I said to them all, smiling. “Now I’m going to need you all to get out of here so I can change.”

“Or we can stay.” Masamune said, giving me a grin. “I’d be happy to help you with that, lass.”

Hideyoshi was grabbing Masamune by the ear. “No you don’t. Come on.”

Once they were all gone, I was calling in the maids to help me into my dress. I had designed was in a couple of pieces. The base piece was a simple white shift dress made of a gorgeous silk. Then there was a top layer to it that was a jacket that was mostly open so you could see the white dress beneath. It was red silk and was clasped at the front just beneath my bust with a beautiful golden rose pin. I had short sleeves on the dress, but extended them with sheer white silk that flowed.

Once I was completely ready, I was stepping out of my room. I began to walk towards the garden where we were holding the ceremony. All of our guests were there waiting. Though everyone disappeared for me once I saw Shingen standing under the tree we had decided to make into our wedding altar. He looked so handsome in his traditional groom’s hakama.

His gray eyes lit up when he saw me walking towards him. Once I was beside him, his hands were reaching for mine. “You look beautiful, my angel.” He whispered to me.

I smiled at him. “And you look very handsome.” I replied.

We had decided there would be no one presiding over the ceremony. Instead we would declare our vows to each other before our gathered friends and family (and enemies in this case as well).

“Ava,” Shingen began, his voice reverent, “My love, my angel, my goddess, you have given me so much more than I could have ever hoped for. My spark of life had died out years ago and I lived only out of spite…but now I can live and live for the things I’ve always wanted. The dreams I never dared to let escape can finally come true. And it is all thanks to you. You’ve restored me body and heart…you’ve healed me and made me whole again…and as if that weren’t enough, you gave me your love as well. In turn I vow to give you all the love and happiness you have given me. I swear to make sure the rest of your days are filled with love and happiness and I will love you with every breath I take. I give you my heart, my soul, my love, always and forever.”

I felt tears stinging my eyes at his beautiful words. I knew he wouldn’t be short on them. He never was. Shingen was reaching a hand to gently wipe away my tears. I smiled up at him. “Shingen, you came into my life in the most unexpected of ways…and you completely captured my heart. You gave me a love worth fighting for…one I will always fight for. You are a truly giving and selfless man and I cherish every moment we have together. And I will always be by your side, loving you and making you as happy as you have made me, forever.”

Shingen’s smile was warmth and love as he looked at me. Before either of us could say anything, Sasuke was calling from the crowd. “You may now kiss the bride!”

Shingen chuckled. “Don’t mind if I do.” He said, pulling me close before pressing his lips to mine, sealing our vows with a sweet kiss. When we broke the kiss, those gray eyes were looking at me with such love and tenderness. “My wife.”

I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading wide across my face. “You have truly made me happy from the bottom of my heart…my husband.” I told him, echoing the words from our bet from so long ago.

Shingen’s eyes darkened ever so slightly and he was then pulling me to him once again, kissing me more deeply, neither of us caring much that we still had an audience. All that mattered was we were in love and we were finally husband and wife.

tagging some fellow Shingen lovers @thezestyone @venulus

[honesttoblogjuno]

Just dropping by to tell you TSN is my favorite Wenclair fic out there. The way you write is so intimate and I loved the plot. I would’ve never guessed I could be this invested in publishing contracts or the planning behind PR stuff - yet here I am lmao.

I’ve read the fic some weeks ago and there has been a question on my mind ever since: it’s stated in the earlier chapter’s that Wednesday didn’t want to get married first and then changed her mind after she had a vision that it would help to narrow down the potential suspects if Enid would ever get murdered (or something similar- I can’t remember the exact words I’m sorry). And that Enid had a suspicion but never asked about it.

Now I am asking about it - what was the vision? What does it mean ? Or did Wednesday just said she had a vision as an excuse because she didn’t want to admit she changed her mind?? 😭😭😭

I’m sorry if you already answered it or if it was even stated in the fic and I missed it - perhaps it went over my head because I’m not an english native (or I just didn’t get it)… or if you want to keep your secrets as a writer and leave it open to interpretation 🙈. You totally don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

Anyways - I love you and your writing and I can’t wait to read whatever you write next ❤️❤️❤️

aha! I was wondering if anybody was going to circle back to that point 🙈

You didn't miss anything, I did leave it in as a sort of open-ended detail that I could connect later on 🤫 It is something I have been playing around with including in the middle timeline fic as I am plotting the storyline out, actually!

So, I am going to be coy and not share exactly what my image of the vision is, but I willlllll give some hints because I am just so overjoyed to get asks like this and I'm a big softie!! 🥰

In my little Wenclair cinematic universe, as I kind of tried to establish in CAAG, my headcanon is that Wednesday's visions functionally only show things that will certainly happen or have already happened (whether future events would have happened had she not had a vision and assumed they were inevitable is up to the reader's interpretation 🤭 how much is fate vs self-fulfilling prophesy?).

So, the vision would have been either a glimpse into what she understands as her preordained future with Enid, or information she didn't previously know about something in her, Enid's, or their shared past. She seems to be able to experience the thoughts and feelings of people in her past-visions in a way she can't in her real life for a number of reasons, so I will leave that tidbit out for consideration for anyone who might be playing around with their guess if she saw something that will happen or already did ;)

In terms of Enid's suspicion as to what she saw, I will drop a little detail about that as well! Enid suspects Wednesday saw their (Addams) wedding and found herself at peace with the idea once she had embodied it, having had the chance to feel all of the emotions (and possibly the bone-chilling presence of onlooking ghosts) firsthand for even just a brief moment. Her guess is that Wednesday was, as you said, being a little proud and didn't want to admit that she had lost a silent argument with her omniscient future self.

But, although I didn't describe this in much detail in TSN, Wednesday gave her a sort of peculiar look when she came to again after the vision and had just seemed to do a complete 180° about the wanting-to-get-married thing, so Enid assumed pushing the subject would just be "I told you so"ing her and decided against it. All's well that ends well, right? 😉

Thanks so much for your ask, your close reading of the fic, and your massively kind words 💞 it means so much to know you liked the story enough to think about a detail like this for weeks following!

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

Yandere Alphabet w/ Switzerland

note: im so giddy to be writing this rn. i just know that S sucks though, so sorry. (btw i didnt read for mistakes)

(update: i hate this so much.. might or might not just update the entire thing to make it more accurate, since idk wtf i was on when writing this)

warning: murder, kidnapping, abuse, other things along those lines, average florida man activities

!! yandere content. if you can't handle any possesive, manipulative, obsessive, stalkery, violent, or other toxic behavior please go. !!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Basch's not all too affectionate, but if you pay attention you notice how much care he puts into caring for you. If he notices you like a meal then he makes it more often, or he might (very secretively) hold your hand when walking sometimes. ONLY when he knows nobody's watching though, not that it's likely anyone is there anyways. Besides maybe his sister, he doesn't mind her being around you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Obviously, yes. He isn't too brutal with it usually, a simple shot in the head. If he thinks they deserve it then he might shoot them somewhere that isn't an immediate death and leave them to bleed out. In the case of it being a country whom he's after then that'll ever make him more or less enclined to attack.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Scrict but not cruel. If you follow his rules, then he'll be sweet to you. If not.. I can't say anything good will come from that.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Probably him murdering everyone they love (and hate). Almost anyone who gets in his way will end up reported as missing. He isn't all too keen on making you sad or uncomfortable for the most part, unless for the sake of punishing you I suppose.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

While you're one his biggest soft spot, he'd never show you it. If you knew then you'd probably find a way to escape because of that soft spot. He cares so much for you but he would never show you, no matter how long its been. You never know what might happen.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Basch is not a happy camper. He wants you to be obedient for him so he can protect and provide for you. He had a feeling this would happen, but he's still dissapointed in you anyways. You'll be told by him that fighting isn't worth it since you're getting nowhere. All you're earning is more time in the basement tied up.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

His feelings for you are very serious and he'd never find your attempts you abandon him entertaining. It upsets him greatly to even think about you leaving, so trying to is like a nightmare for him. He'd punish you severely if he caught you planning or executing an escape attempt.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

If they try to escape, he might shoot them in the leg. He'll carry them back to somewhere where he can take care of the wound obviously, but it'd still be horrifying to experience.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Marriage, he wants it to be at his home with practically nobody invited to come. After the wedding just a peaceful life with some domesticity. Just you and him (plus Lili of course) since he isn't too wild at the idea of kids.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He's not really jealous, but he does still hate when others are around you. If Vash does get jealous then he'll probably get frustrated and leave with you. (he'll give you a long lecture while leaving too)

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Not much to say explain how he acts other than sweet but cautious. (this feels so off topic but) You're forbidden from being near anything he sees as dangerous and he would have a stroke if he found you near one of his guns. One of the pros to this is that you rarely cook since you're allowed no knives.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Vash isn't all that romantic so you'll just take him as you receive him. Doesn't mean he isn't trying to be as nice as possible though! It's just hard for him to show you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes and no. While he isn't a completely new man when around you, Basch will still be seen as friendlier than usually.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Ran away? Broken leg. Attacked him? Tied up. Talked back? He will say a mean thing back. Or he just hits you. Not too rough though, but enough to put you in your place. The punishment just depends on how mad he is with you and why.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Well, you have like.. 15 important rules. These are all just things you'd expect though. If it has anything to do with being around other people, being outside, or you potentially getting harmed, then it's not allowed.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

You get two days to get your act together once he takes you to his house. He'll be patient until that time is out. Outside of the mercy period he gave you, he isn't so patient.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No matter how he lost you once he abandoned hope it always ends the same. He'll shut off himself and think about what he could've done to keep you by his side. He'll still work, but he'll be getting frustrated very easily.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He thinks about it sometimes during nighttime. He feels he did what was right and doesn't feel bad for it in his opinion. Vash knows it upsets you, but he'll never let you leave.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Vash has many reasons, but it all adds up to him wanting you to have a peaceful life.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It hurts him a lot, he doesn't want to make you scared or uncomfortable. He'll ask you why your upset but it might come out kinda rough. He might just ask Lily to do it for him if he thinks it's hard enough.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He would be the most overprotective of them all, but he wouldn't coddle you like some overprotective yanderes. You can still cook if he's watching and you are allowed to own a weapon. (unless he's proven that you shouldn't)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Probably indirect guilt tripping, even if he doesn’t feel too bad about kidnapping you, he would start to feel this nagging ache in his heart at you looking so miserable. But he’d probably harden up if he starts to catch onto it being a trick.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

For punishment, yes. Otherwise it'd be a no. If he did then it's not likely he'll maim you, maybe a broken limb if you try and escape his grasp (99% chance it'll be your leg).

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He's not the worshipper type, or anything near that, that doesn't mean he doesn't care for you though. It's just not the way Basch is.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Depends when he turns yandere for you, but on average it'd be about seven months to four years. It also depends on if anything happens that might trigger him to intensify faster, like you getting badly hurt or getting a partner.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Low chance, if he does it's an accident. This is mostly because he doesn't beat you for no reason or anything, but if you keep escaping and give him a reason to then it's possible.

[e-dubbc11]

Thank You for 200!!

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Hello to you my lovelies!

After blocking numerous porn accounts, I noticed I hit 200 followers the other day. I know it’s not as many as some of my mutuals have but honestly it makes my heart so full that 200 of you follow me, it’s very unexpected but very much appreciated.💕

I don’t know how much traffic this is gonna get but hey let’s try doing a celebration anyway. If you’ve been following me for a little while, you know that I write for Matt Murdock and Billy Russo. My wheelhouse is fluff and angst so I’m going to link some prompts/dialogue prompts for anyone who’d like to invade my inbox. I’m going to try and limit each one to 1K or under(it’s tough for me to keep it short🤣) depending on how many come in.

I think this will be a fun little writing challenge for me to keep my brain working. And I’m currently bouncing around some ideas in my head for future fics(I have a wedding for Billy to plan and also Billy as a dad on my brain too, oh and also I’m in the middle of writing my second attempt at smut 🥵) but I thought this might be kind of fun too.

Prompt Links:

FLUFF

FLUFF/ANGST/HURT/COMFORT

TAKING CARE OF YOUR LOVE WHEN THEY’RE SICK

JEALOUSY

MORE JEALOUSY

I’ll keep this open until December 26. Closed

Thank you all again for following me, I really am blown away by everyone’s support, it’s just so sweet! Thank you to everyone who tosses a ❤️ in my direction for my fics, anyone that tags me in any tag games, I love them!

Tagging some of my lovely mutuals and biggest cheerleaders. You guys really know how to make a girl feel good, love you all.

@mindidjarin @munsonownsmyass @skvatnavle @phoebe-danvers @itwasthereaminuteago @pedrito-friskito @idaoftheburningmind @kayhi808 @wheresthesunshinesblog @music-indie-tv @fluffyprettykitty @wint3r-h3art @freshabogados @elgrandeavocados @saintmurd0ck @mattmurdocksscars @justafleshwoundbaby @hellskitchenswhore @1800-fight-me @shedaresthedevil

[firsttarotreader]

Pedro’s Special Birthday Reading #2 2023

Hello! I am back with the second Special Birthday Reading 2023 for Pedro. This time I used a different method, the Kairallah spread, one I have not used here before. This spread is a very interesting one and the subject was his romantic life. What is in store for him in this new year of his life, in terms of romance?

So, this spread has 5 cards and they were: 2 of Flowers reversed, The Wheel of Fortune, Queen of Teacups, 7 of Hedgehogs and 8 of Hedgehogs.

2 of Flowers reversed represents Pedro the way he finds himself now regarding the romance subject, and this card reversed shows he is completely not focused on it. He lacks willpower and patience to even think about developing a romantic connection with anyone. He has no long term prospects or ideas of future. There’s a lot of hesitancy around the idea of letting any romance happen. The Wheel of Fortune is speaking of his current moment and it’s one of “well, I’m in the hands of Destiny. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t happen, oh well, I am not looking for it anyway”. He is like waiting for someone who can rock his world enough and change everything. Queen of Cups is the prognostic and what to expect in the coming months. It will be a great time to go out and meet new people, or to make a move on someone he might be interested in (if he is of if he gets) because the energies will be positive for a new romance. This card might also represent a warm, loving, caring and affectionate person. Oh, and passionate, a passionate person or a passionate “situation” (whatever he wants to call it) could happen if he opens himself to it.

7 of Hedgehogs is the best way to act on the situation and the advice. It tells him to allow himself to put some effort in whatever he starts IF he starts something, to not focus only on a fleeting satisfaction and to try and build more solid foundations for these connections, to allow himself to actually build something. Not that he has (or should) meet someone and start planning the wedding, but let it happen and engage, not resist the change so much. 8 of Hedgehogs is the general scenario, the one that sets the tone to all the other cards, and it’s about consistency. Like John Mayer says in his song “Love is a Verb”, “love ain’t a thing, love is a verb”. To make it work, you need to be there every day, work for it, learn how to love and be loved by that person, and that seems to be so hard for him. It can’t be just intense and fleeting, it has to be an everyday work.

So what we have here is some potential for new love, but at the moment he is really just not open to it. If he allows it to happen, he will have do to his part and work for it.

But tomorrow I’ll be back with more! 🤐

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

i know it’s probably late but ⭐️ i am so fascinated by odnlb and i want to hear everything you could possibly have to say about it

no it's not late! this game ends when i say it ends lol.

send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

today i have some odnlb discarded scenes/ plotlines for your enjoyment! 💀

pv kiss plot:

there was going to be this arc from like act 2-3 where ladybug was trying to figure out cat walker's identity. so because she was super pissed at him, she "created" a curse on his miraculous. he would have the ring stuck on his hand & wouldn't be able to take it off, leaving his power to slowly consume him. "how can i break the curse?" cat walker asked in one of my drafts, to which ladybug responded, "with something chat noir always wanted, but never got. something i'll make sure you never get, either." (it was a kiss from ladybug)

anyways i discarded it because 1) why make marinette slowly kill adrien when he would do it himself just to save her and 2) it was kind of redundant to be cursed by 2 rings. also the more i thought about it the more it seemed silly, so i reworked it into matter of luck!

zoe-luka-chloe love triangle:

i actually DON'T like love triangles and especially not when 2 of the people in them are siblings. ...however i could see this one working. originally chloe was touched that luka had so much faith in her, more than zoe seemingly, and her final selfless act of the fic was "letting zoe have him." thinking more on it, i felt really meh about it, so i changed chloe's issues to center more around sibling jealousy and inadequacy while simultaneously wanting a better sister relationship. i like her turning point of selflessness as giving up her miraculous much better!

zoe akumatized bc she thinks luka is cheating:

yes friends la voleuse was going to be akumatized bc she found out luka had "spent the night with marinette" during the fight in chapter 15. she confronted luka about it, and guessed rightly that he had gone to marinette, but obvs for the wrong reasons. i cut this because then it would've led to a marinette/ladybug identity reveal too early. and also because it was just kind of a meh plotline for me that didn't reveal the best or worst of anyone's character.

nino finds out adrien's identity:

i actually really wanted this and couldn't find a way to fit it in! it would have taken place after nino gets his miraculous back. he was kind of going to be adrien's secret-keeper, like an alya to adrien's marinette, and they were going to cry and hug and mourn lost time and stuff. there was also going to be a scene where nino and alya were obviously hiding stuff from each other and wouldn't say, and they both got pissed off at one another in the middle of all their wedding prep lol. but honestly i like the way dj wifi played out in the fic!

deleted scenes:

there was going to be a scene where cat walker played the piano for ladybug, and she recognized it as a tune adrien had played/written for a school thing long ago. adrien was going to play it again at the wedding for dj wifi.

there was another few scenes planned where cat walker would leave roses for ladybug like kid flash from teen titans did to jinx. a few scenes ended like that, and both me and marinette were sorry to have to cut them. keep an eye out though i might recycle these ideas for future fics 👀👀

from the fanfic writer: director's cut ask game.

[deadrlngers]

8, 12, 26 and 39 for Akira and Hanako? 🙈

8. What do the like best about their partner?

about hanako: she's clever and cunning, even if she doesn't want to show it plainly she's very good at plotting, and that's something akira LOVES about her (they love to see a girlboss winning)

about akira: the unwavering devotion djfkdk their determination to reach their goals and indipendence (which she also admires), akira always chose to do whatever they wanted, it didn't matter what their parents planned for their corpo future, they always held dear their self-determination (which makes the fact that they consciously chose to put themself in service of another, in this case arasaka, so interesting, they are like a dog on a leash that actually chose to have the collar on, BUT ANYWAYS i'm rambling)

12. Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Any kind of honeymoon?

YES THERE IS! akira is the one proposing, technically. i think they talked about marriage a few times prior to the proposal itself, so in a way, they both knew they wanted marriage to be a thing for them. the proposal is simple, and reserved as akira is, just the privacy of their home and akira declaring their love for her, how they don't see themself spending the rest of their life with anyone else. ofc the wedding is expensive, showing off both their filthy rich status (especially in hanako's case). the honeymoon isn't the most peaceful since they have a company to run plus i don't think they can just, spend their time as common tourists out and about, so probably the honeymoon is spent in some big estate of the arasaka's family, preferably on an island where it's just the two of them jdsfkd and where they try to take as few calls as they can

26. How do their friends feel about their relationship? Their families?

akira's parents are..impressed, let's say that. they aren't exactly a loving family and the news of the relationship mostly made them happy for all the economic & possible partnership between companies reasons. hanako's family on the other hand was absolutely not happy, her father never liked how close her and akira became while her brother never liked akira in general jfdskf (and the feeling was mutual). michiko..doesn't really care, actually she tries to avoid akira most of the time because she finds them scary which is an universal feeling when it comes to akira. friends..friends..coworkers count? djfdk akira's inner circle doesn't dare speak about their relationship with hanako, they are well aware of it tho and as long as their boss is happy (=not making their life more difficult) then they're happy too

39. Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love?

it naturally developed on itself. i think hanako was the first to realize that something was absolutely going on between them, while akira simply blamed it all on their job as her bodyguard and the fact that they enjoyed her company only because it was 'interesting' chatting with her. realization hits akira when hanako's life is on the line and she gets kidnapped at the parade. the idea of losing hanako or that something bad might happen to her was unbearable. akira was uncharacteristically straightforward about their feelings when they managed to get a moment to talk with hanako after the kidnapping, and it's actually hanako who kisses them first, just seconds after akira's confession. they pined for each other for sooo long djfdk

[calespsychoticbubble]

Canon in D

I recently attended a friend’s wedding and it was fine. Nothing bad happened, nothing extraordinary happened.

When I first got the invitation, I was worried about seeing people that I hadn’t spoken to in a long time. I had moved away in 2019 and didn’t really work to keep in touch with many people except for the bride. I really wanted to go despite the people I might see there because I wanted to support my friend and be there for a significant day in her life, so I had a year and a half to mentally prepare myself. I knew I would be going by myself since I didn’t get the chance to bring a plus one (and I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time of the invitation), so I anticipated having to chat with people I didn’t normally chat with.

In the last few weeks before the wedding, I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be. I had heard from the bride who she invited, so I had an idea of who would be attending, Miu (and his family) included. I couldn’t bring my SO, but I think this was something I should do by myself anyways. I knew that the ceremony would be fine; it’s mostly just sitting and listening. It would be the cocktail hour and the reception that would prove to be the more difficult social challenge.

The ceremony was fine, as I thought. I sat with some old friends from church and it was almost surreal how easily I slipped back into the group dynamic. Albeit, things are a little different and it was a little awkward, but I didn’t feel like I wasn’t welcome by them. It also reminded me of how I felt (and still feel) different from them, but now, maybe those differences don’t have to drive us apart.

I skipped the cocktail hour, which was planned between me and my aunt. It gave me time to go back to the hotel, rest, and call my SO before going back for the reception. I was sitting with the same friends from the ceremony, so that was pretty easy. I also got to talk with some other people from church and high school that I haven’t seen in probably four years (and more for the people from high school). Talking with them made me think about how the four years since I’ve moved is actually quite a long time and a lot happened in that time.

At the end of the night Miu and I talked briefly. It was after everything ended and people were dancing, so the time was more open for people to mill about and chat. Aside from the occasional messages in 2021 and 2022, we haven’t spoken or seen each other since 2019. It was awkward, but that’s to be expected. We spoke about things that we would have talked about with anyone, work, school, church, but they were things that I wouldn’t have known about him anyways since we haven’t talked at all. I shared about my plans for September and some of the new things about church. I was a little surprised that he remembered some details from our previous conversations. There were some pauses here and there, and I feel like he wanted to ask more, but maybe that’s just my perception. I felt like it went well, all things considered. It wasn’t overly dramatic or difficult, just an awkward conversation between people who used to know each other. Our conversation was cut short by someone else, but maybe that’s okay. There was no closure of “well it was nice catching up with you” or “best of luck in the future,” and I guess that is what I will be living with for the foreseeable future. 

My final evaluation at the end of the night was that it was fine. I was there to support my friend and congratulate her and I was happy to do that.

[eggcats]

Keeping the tags by @tvmanintvland bc I love this, Charlie trying to delicately bring up Vox and Alastor's blatant cheating with each other while trying to not make them upset enough to abandon their help with the hotel is hysterical.

(I accidentally wrote a Lot about this scenario, so I added a readmore, lol).

(I kind of went off the rails, but I couldn't think of a funny scenario where Charlie actually confronts them both, but rather one where she tries to bring it up without Ever Actually Bringing It Up because she's not great at confrontation).

Like, I'm going to mess with the timeline here bc I can do anything, so like in this AU I like to imagine that Charlie had been trying to get her hotel up and running for like, at least a decade before Vaggie fell and she met her. (Maybe in canon it took until she had Vaggie's help and support to try to go bigger, hence the interview and commercial taking so long to happen).

Except she (somehow) runs into Angel, and that's how Vox and Alastor get in her radius. Angel allows some of his employees from the studio to live at the hotel and try her "redemption" program in exchange for a stable place to live. But, suddenly going from an abandoned hotel to having living inhabitants is expensive (and the hotel isn't in the best condition), so enter Vox - willing to do advertising and fundraising for the hotel, in exchange for...I don't know, a favor (like canon Alastor), an in with hell's royalty, manipulation for a possible future need? Either way, Vox helps Charlie with the hotel in regards to funds, so in this AU the original hotel is in much better condition with a lot of more modern technology.

And at first, Charlie is ecstatic (and a bit suspicious) with Vox's help after Angel's. (Two Overlords just helping her try to redeem the same sinners whose souls they own? Even she isn't that naive to think there's no underlying reason past simple altruism). But she sees his wedding ring and (much like a majority of sinners in hell), it makes her think just, maybe, he could be trusted. After all, who gets married in hell? At least, with sinners - hellborn getting married isn't uncommon, but sinners being married is almost unheard of.

But then! She meets Alastor, and suddenly, her suspicions go haywire. Because Vox is wearing a ring. And Alastor is not. But they're clearly together, and now she doesn't know what to do. Because she can't just turn a blind eye to Vox cheating on whoever he's married to, but she also knows that saying too much might ruin her plans for redeeming hell's sinners.

But any time she tries to bring up Vox's marriage, he doesn't even seem to try to hide his relationship with Alastor - and not once has he mentioned whoever he's married to. Is he cheating? Did they die in an Extermination, and bringing it up is callous of her? But, surely, if he's still upset over whoever he's married to, he'd mention them and not be in a new relationship? So IS he cheating?! What is the right move here? How can she tell his partner he's being unfaithful if she can't even get a name out of Vox?

And also, I like to have both Vox and Alastor being married but ALSO trading souls with each other. (Considering this is hell, no one really seems to respect marriage, and soul trading is more permanent, anyway).

Except, the way this happens also brings more stress to poor Charlie's life and makes her even LESS sure about the right move forward.

(In my headcanon, how powerful a demon is, as well as how many souls they own, affect the ability for others to own their soul. So when Vox begins making deals, Alastor takes Vox's soul to negate the ability of anyone to trick Vox into losing his soul - and they have plans of Vox eventually owning Alastor's soul. Except, until Vox gains power and souls, he can't own Alastor's soul without it overpowering him - even if Alastor is willing to give Vox his soul for their marriage. So for years, Alastor owns Vox's soul but NOT vice versa).

So, somehow, it comes up that Alastor OWNS Vox's soul. And Charlie is SO ALARMED, even if no one else seems to be. Is Alastor forcing Vox's infidelity!? Is Alastor even worse of a homewrecker than she even thought? But, once again, any time she tries to delicately bring this up - Vox seems both fine and like there isn't even an issue. How can she help Vox if she can't even get him to talk about the problem?

And this goes on almost the entire time until Vaggie falls and Charlie meets her. And so, when it comes time to introduce Vaggie to Vox and Alastor, she tries to explain the situation and asks for advice.

(I like to imagine that Angel is the one more directly involved with the hotel, with V/A having a much more "hands-off" approach, so they only visit a few times a year unless something requires their attention, and even then many times it's only Vox visiting).

But Vaggie, ex-Exterminator angel, suspicious of every sinner and ESPECIALLY Overlord at her girlfriend's hotel, watches both Vox and Alastor like a hawk.

And she notices something that Charlie seemingly never did. The Radio Demon seems to have a ring on one of his antlers. Curious, but unwilling to believe or trust either of these demons, she asks about the fact that the Radio Demon owns the soul of the Video Demon.

And both Charlie and Vaggie lose it when it comes up that now, suddenly, Vox ALSO owns Alastor's soul!? They didn't even know that was POSSIBLE. How can two sinners just trade souls???

(Sure, Vox had mentioned that being their plan, but Charlie never BELIEVED him. She thought it was more evidence of Alastor manipulating and lying to Vox for control - like when a married man lies to his mistress about leaving his wife. Except in this scenario, Vox is the married man, and Alastor is the mistress - but Alastor is the one in control. Charlie was never certain who was the one she had to blame, here. It's been a lot for her to deal with).

And so, it winds up being Vaggie (trained to notice things no one else would) who realizes that the mysterious person Vox is married to and cheating on with Alastor, IS actually Alastor. And that Vox isn't actually cheating on his partner at all.

Vaggie reveals this to Charlie, who is So Relieved but also confused. Why doesn't Alastor just wear his ring the same way Vox does? And then Alastor just laughs about how he needs to protect his ring from being damaged, since blood can be such a difficult thing to clean, you know? (Charlie and Vaggie are horrified, but at least now they know. Charlie has spent a decade dealing with this hanging over her head, and now she can finally rest).

Hi, sorry I'm not dead but I just thought of something

Alastor in the Housewife Vox AU wears his wedding ring on his left antler on top of his head, and NOT his hands, bc he spends quite a bit of time using his hands to claw and rip into assorted viscera and that would both make his ring dirty and have the potential of losing it inside someone. Anywhere else is unsanitary, and also, it'd be an insult to Vox to treat his ring in such a manner. (The ring is infused with his magic to grow in size when he does, as well).

Vox, however, is a businessman - so he wears his ring on his ring finger because it looks both Trustworthy and Professional (for some reason being married makes sinners forget that they're all in hell for a reason, and it makes it that much easier to have a monopoly on media and technology in the Pride Ring). People are much more likely to listen to and sell their soul to a married man, so he uses that to his advantage.

The discrepancy in how each of them wears their rings has caused some confusion in the past, as they see the wedding ring on Vox but not a matching on on Alastor’s hand - and so they think either Alastor refuses to wear one, has taken his off to cheat (Ridiculous!), or that Vox is ACTUALLY married to someone else and Alastor is a homewrecker. Alastor quite enjoys proving anyone who questions his or Vox's loyalty wrong (not that they live long enough to regret such assumptions).