#i have way too much time on my hands lmao
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juniperskye · 3 days ago
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I’ve got you!
Based on the following ask: I want fluffy romance
It’s an Aaron Hotchner x reader (lmao daddy issues on fleek) anyways
I’d like to see like romantic tension building between them like it begins small but slowly gets bigger and it isn’t until reader gets into trouble (like say almost drowning because she never learned how to swim like my dumbass) that Aaron almost loses it a little and saved reader which makes him end up confessing to each other and they get together and it’s just fluffy romance because as much as I love the smutty stuff, I crave fluff so badly for my poor heart and for Aaron because baby deserves comfort too. Anyways Love you gorgeous
Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 2533
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, SLOW BURN, Age gap (non-specified), some explicit language, reader can’t swim, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description, canon typical violence, reader almost drowns, mention of Jack, Beth never existed in this okay!, mention of hospitals, team calls reader flower as a nickname! let me know if I missed any!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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Your first impression of Aaron Hotchner was at a lecture at your university. Jason Gideon had been leading the BAU and Hotch had just been an agent at the time, but you had been captivated by his intelligence and the way he carried himself. He was so confident and had this strength about him that drew you in. Not in a romantic way though!
At least that’s what you told yourself.
--
Aaron’s first impression of you was when you had been hired onto the team through Director Cruz. Mateo had brought you along with your file and handed you off to Aaron, informing him that you’d be joining the BAU effective immediately.
Initially Aaron was annoyed, this kind of thing hadn’t always worked out in his favor, having agents assigned to his team without his approval but, looking at you and your impressive file, he knew he had to give you a shot.
Glancing over to you he took note of your beauty. It wasn’t the obvious fake filter-like beauty, but something more natural. You had this air of warmth that radiated off of you, it was the type of energy that just made you feel comfortable around someone. He couldn’t help but think that if he’d met you some other way, that maybe he’d have asked you out.
--
Things between you and Aaron had progressed organically. The two of you had grown pretty close, being one another’s confidant within the team. You weren’t together, but the amount of time you two spent together suggested otherwise.
It all happened pretty quickly.
--
“Does Hotch always stay late?” You asked.
“Uh, yeah pretty much.” Emily laughed.
“What about Jack? He doesn’t go home to be with him? I mean…I, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean that to sound judgy, I just meant like doesn’t he want to go home?” You stuttered.
“I’m sure he wants to go home to Jack. His sister-in-law watches Jack when he can’t, but since Strauss died, they gave Hotch a lot of additional responsibilities for this team. Things that Cruz never took back on, so he has nearly double the workload now that he did back then.” Derek explained.
You stood there stunned to silence as the others packed their bags to head home for the evening. You hadn’t even noticed them making their way to the elevator.
“Aren’t you coming?” JJ questioned.
“You know, I just remembered I forgot to get the file for that case we had in Minnesota back to Hotch. He’ll be pissed if I don’t turn it in before our days off.” You lied.
“Do you want us to wait?” Spencer asked.
“No, you guys go ahead! Enjoy your weekend!”
You sat back down at your desk, attempting to make yourself look busy while the other piled into the elevator. Once the doors had closed you made your way up to his office…unable to hear the others…
“She’s got it bad.” Derek teased.
“So does he.” Rossi confirmed.
You gently knocked on his office door and waited for him to permit your entry. Once he did, you pushed the door open slightly and peaked in, waiting for him to acknowledge your presence.
“Oh hey, what are you still doing here? I figured you’d have left with the others.” Aaron let a slight smile slip past his lips.
“I was going to, but you’re still here. It didn’t feel right going home for the weekend while you are still here working your ass off.”
“I’m the boss, I’m always here working my ass off. Head home, enjoy the time off. Seriously.” Aaron suggested.
“How about instead, I do whatever I can to help you get through your work a little faster and I order dinner for us. Would you prefer tacos or Thai food?” You pulled up your maps app to see restaurants that were nearby.
“You should-”
“Don’t even try to argue with me Hotch.” You threatened.
“Tacos.”
“Perfect.”
--
That night you helped Aaron double-check the case reports and cross reference them to make sure they were all filed properly. It allowed him some extra time to complete some administrative work and when your food arrived, the two of you sat and laughed while enjoying your tacos.
--
Garcia, Emily, and JJ were all clutching their temples while chugging down coffee in hopes to alleviate their hangovers.
Spencer and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at the girls and the fact that they chose to drink far too much last night, knowing full well they’d need to be up early to cheer on their fearless leader as he completed the annual FBI triathlon.
Dave waved to the others notifying them that he could see Aaron coming around the last corner.
“Wait where’s flower at?” Derek asked.
The team looked around to see if they could spot you, knowing that you would never miss this, given how close you and Aaron had become. Dave chuckled to himself and pointed over to where you were standing with Jack on your shoulders as he held up a large glittering sign.
Everyone cheered as Aaron crossed the finish line only, he didn’t stop to greet the team. He made his was straight to you and Jack, he assisted him in getting down off your shoulders and complimented the beautiful poster he had made.
“I had some help!” Jack replied, gently grabbing your hand.
You’d smile and wish Aaron a job well done.
The team would just watch from afar and wonder how the two of you could be so incredibly oblivious to the love you so obviously shared for one another.
--
“Wooo go Jack!” You cheered.
Aaron couldn’t help but chuckle at you, genuinely loving the bond you’d established with his son. It had started when Jack needed to spend a day at the BAU and you’d gone out of your way to get him snacks and print a few coloring pages for him. It had shifted to something deeper than that not long after. Jack would ask if you could come to the park with them or if you could help him with the poster for his dad or, like today for instance, if you could come to his soccer game.
You had packed up a cooler bag full of drinks and snacks for the three of you. Dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, Aaron had never thought you looked better. You’d been so casual and comfortable, and when you hopped in the passenger seat of his car that morning something stirred in Aaron. A feeling he wasn’t sure he was ready to feel again, let alone give in to.
“Did you see that? I made a goal!” Jack hollered running over to your waiting embrace.
“I did buddy, you were incredible out there!” You praised.
“Dad, can we all go get lunch now? And maybe then we can go see the new spiderman movie?” Jack pleaded.
“Oh – bud I don’t, I uh. I’m not sure that’s a good –” Aaron fumbled.
“I would love to, as long as it’s not an imposition.” You smiled.
“It’s not! An imposition, I mean.” Aaron clarified.
“Well then! What do you want for lunch Jack?” You asked.
You’d spent the rest of the day with the Hotchner boys, going to lunch and then seeing a movie. Which led to you offering to make them dinner, and building Legos with Jack, and then a nightcap with Aaron. He’d offered you his guestroom and then to drive you home first thing and given that you were both tipsy…you were quick to agree.
What you hadn’t expected was breakfast. He and Jack had gone all out with chocolate chip pancakes…things were feeling a little too domestic. When had things gotten so comfortable?
--
As the feeling stirred in both you and Aaron, you had begun to notice all the little things you did for one another. Things that had just become natural for you both in the time you’d known each other, second nature at this point.
You always slid sticky notes in your case files before turning them in to him. Sometimes they’d contain a doodle of something silly or a quote you’d read somewhere that made you think of him. What you didn’t know is he saved them all. They were tucked away in the back of his desk drawer, a neat pile of multicolored paper, serving as a reminder of how happy you made him.
Aaron shared similar antics…only his served in the form of your favorite tea, left on your desk each morning before the others arrived so they wouldn’t know it was him placing it there. Though they all had their suspicions anyway. Every once in while…usually after tough cases, or if he knew you hadn’t eaten dinner – which he’d know because you’d fall asleep mid-conversation via text – he’d leave a chocolate croissant…your favorite.
--
Aaron had almost let his feelings slip once. Dave had caught the internal battle that Aaron was facing, he wore it as a pained expression and tense shoulders. Dave had reassured him that you were alright and there was no need to worry, only that didn’t help much. You had gotten hurt, and that only proved that it could happen again. This was a dangerous job full of pain and suffering. Aaron realized he couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt.
You had been away on a case; the team had found the unsub and were closing in on him. You had rounded a corner in your chase and came face to face with the man you were after, and he had gotten the upper hand. He’d gotten a few good punches in and knocked you on your ass. Aaron had been quick to return the favor once he caught up.
That is when this need to protect you had grown all consuming. Aaron decided then to offer to train with you, in the hope of improving your self-defense skills a little more. And that is where you found yourself on Thursday evenings. Aaron and you would go to the FBI gym and train for about an hour before going to dinner.
This tradition sort of kept going…it sort of progressed from self-defense training to just working out together. An excuse really, an easy way of spending more time together without it looking too suspicious.
--
Dave had pushed Aaron time and time again, practically begging him to ask you out once and for all. To which Aaron always had the same reply; “She doesn’t feel that way about me and even if she did, it wouldn’t be appropriate”.
“You must be blind if you don’t see how much she cares about you. Or perhaps I was wrong about you being such a skilled profiler.” Dave chided.
“Excuse me?” Aaron was stunned.
“She is in love with you Aaron. You’d have to be an idiot to not realize, and even worse to keep yourselves from the happiness you both deserve.” Dave scolded.
Aaron sat with that for some time…wondering if Dave was right. Maybe enough was enough.
--
This case started out fine…but would quickly become both yours and Aaron’s worst nightmare.
This particular unsub had been murdering people with seemingly no connection. Disposing of their bodies at the South Coast Shipyard in Newport Beach, California.
The team had been working for days, trying to catch this guy. He was meticulous and stuck to his MO, not straying from his routine even the slightest. Spencer had suggested that he might have OCD.
That is what led you guys to the shipyard to try and corner him. Catch him in the act. You’d been on edge about being so close to the water…truthfully you’d always been afraid of it. And one night in a drunken stupor, you’d let it slip to Aaron that you’d never learned how to swim.
So, when Derek shouted out that you were FBI and Mathias Edwards took off running, you’d been a little nervous to chase after him. You’d do your job as expected…but there was a sick feeling in your stomach as you sprinted on the creaky dock.
It was just you Derek and Aaron at the docks, you had been checking things out, knowing that he’d likely be scoping out the area to see what boats were docked so he could find his next dumpsite. You hadn’t expected him to be there so early.
The three of you had split up, chasing after Mathias. You, thanks to all the training with Aaron, were quick on your feet, catching up with him quickly. You were running down a long straight on the docks, carefully avoiding any rope or ties holding boats in place when Mathias jumped out from between two boats, shoving you full force backward into the water. You’d immediately screamed, flailing your arms in a desperate attempt to stay above the surface.
Derek had been coming from the other direction and was able to tackle Mathias and was working to get him in cuffs. It wasn’t until Aaron came around that Derek even knew something was wrong.
“Where is she?” Aaron shouted. “Flower, where is she?”
Derek stood up, pulling Mathias to his feet and shoving him in the direction of the SUV. “Mathias pushed her into the water, I figured she’d swim around to the ladder at the end of the dock.”
“She can’t swim!” Aaron panicked, wasting no time jumping in the water to find you.
Moving swiftly, Derek secured the unsub in the SUV before running back to help Aaron get you out of the water. He’d found you quickly dragging you by your arm to the surface and lifting you into Derek’s waiting hands.
He’d checked for your pulse and when he couldn’t feel it, he began chest compressions. Aaron heaved himself out of the water and back on to the dock and pressed his ear to your chest to listen for any kind of breath sounds.
“Go call for a bus!” Aaron commanded.
Aaron took over CPR and leaned down to listen for your heartbeat once more. When he again heard nothing, he attempted mouth-to-mouth. He continued on like this for a few more seconds before you lurched forward, sputtering up the water that had entered your airways. Aaron helped you sit up and pulled you into his embrace.
“Oh, thank God.” Aaron muttered. “I’ve got you sweetheart.”
--
You were taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital. They wanted to check your vitals and run a few tests to make sure you were alright. Aaron had insisted on riding along with you and held your hand the entire way. He was by your side the whole time.
“You can’t do that to me.” He whispered.
“What?” You rasped.
“You can’t scare me like that sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do if we lost you.” His eyes brimmed with tears.
“The team would be okay.”
“Not them. Me and Jack. We can’t lose you baby. We need you; Jack loves you, hell, I love you too much, I don’t think my heart could take it.” You were both crying now.
“I love you too.”
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livelaughlovesubs · 3 days ago
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checked the calendar and oop-almost missed ur event lmao
ANYWAY muzzling Blade and forbidding him to speak 👉👈 u can ignore this part im about to say but I NEED TO BREED THIS MAN NINI. ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE !!!
have a great day/night ᵔᴗᵔ
Dom!reader x sub!blade
Warning: a little pet play (again damn), stepping (also, again…), teasing, brat taming (?), bondage, muzzling, dirty talk
Anniversary event
Haha, have a great day as well Ray~ ALSO, yes, blade, breeding, mpreg-
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“Do you know why I’m doing this?” You asked, almost sarcastically. The low, dissatisfied grunt of the male in front of you didn’t escape your ears. Did he really think you’d miss that? When he’s sitting on that chair, mere inches away— all tied up —like that? “Tell me, bladie.”
The pet name you whispered was adding salt to his injury, causing him to lash out even more. “How would I know what you are thinking?” He glared at you, not a deathly one, it was rather a challenging gaze. As if he’s questioning your authority, how cheeky of him. “You’ve been rather chatty today.” You smirked down at him, tilting your head to the side, “are you doing it on purpose?”
He shifted a little, as best as his binds allowed him to. All of his limps were tied to the posts of the meek wooden chair, and a rope was also wrapped around his torso, to further bind him to the leaning of the furniture. It was placed right underneath his chest, making them look fuller than usual. It’d be a foolish assumption to think this would be enough to keep him restrained, though it was just a game, he knew you wouldn’t put him in danger. Besides what’s the worst that could happen, him dying?
Normally he wasn’t keen on playing the brat, yet ever since he witnessed you punishing someone else for ‘not knowing when to shut up’, he’s been feeling slightly eager himself to try it out. With his personality, it was rare for anything to stir his curiosity, but you seem to always find a way inside him mind. Besides, you’ve been spending way too much time with other people. So who would have guessed you’d be into this so much.
“Your thoughts are shifting away. Is this too boring a situation for you?” You took a few steps closer to him, raising your foot to step on his thigh, hand placed on his chin to make him look you in the eyes. “If you know, try making it worthwhile.” He sighed, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. “Oho, look at the moody kitty being cocky again.” As if you were offended by his indifference, you turned his face to the side, and slid your hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Are you so desperate for my attention? You could also make it easy and ask nicely.” Instead of tugging on his hair like he expected, you stroked him behind his ear, the one with the large earring. Then you moved lower with your fingers and fumbled with the metal of the Accessoire, rubbing his earlobe while you were at it. “What made you think I’d be craving your attention?” He snarled, grinning at you with half-lidded eyes. Since you were looking down at him, his long lashes became even more apparent.
After a while, you let go of him and chuckled, “because the kitty is mewling at me so much.” You walked up to a specific drawer and took something out, and on your way back you noticed his deviant expression, which compiled you to comment, “yet the kitty has been spouting nothing but nonsense.” Once you were standing right front of him again, you leaned down to meet his eyes, “in such a situation, what would you suggest the owner to do?”
Blade blinked a few times, a little dumbfounded at your words. He didn’t take into account that you would ask him to choose his own punishment, even though it was a basic practice. “I wonder.” Soon, he begun to speak, he wasn’t going to give up this quick. “But if you ask me, isn’t the owner at fault for failing to discipline their pet properly?” This time, he was the one to tilt his head back, not giving up the rebellious act just yet. You weren’t irritated enough, he wanted to see you seething with rage.
Alone the thought of what you might make him do afterwards kept him on edge. His old, weary heart was beating so fast, he could feel every pound hammering against his chest. Your gaze wasn’t wavering, instead you were amused. This was not exactly the reaction he was going for, should he consider his plan failed? A shiver ran down his spine when you cupped his face with one hand, your skin was so warm in comparison to him.
You held him gently, as if he was a frail and vulnerable thing, then you said, “you are right, it would be the owners fault.” A big smirk spread across your face, and you tapped his bottom lips with your thumb. “At least we agree on one thing,” suddenly you stopped mid-sentence, and you hinted at him to open his mouth. Once he did, you revealed what your other hand has been hiding all this time. A muzzle, one for a dog no less.
The male stared at the object in your hand, then asked with a forced smile, “I thought you’ve been raising a cat, not a mutt.” You stuffed the stick inside his mouth and fastened the binds around his head, then replied almost begrudgingly, “desperate times call for desperate measures.” Then you shrugged with your shoulders. “You…! what are you- mffgghnm..!!?” To your surprise, he put up less of a fight than you anticipated.
After you were done, you took a moment to admire your handiwork. How endlessly beautiful he looked, tied up to the chair, with the ropes burning marks into his gorgeously scared body. His long hair falling over his shoulder, creating an almost soft look that didn’t suit his usual vibe. Not to mention how flushed his face has gotten since earlier, how long until he finally sheds tears and begs? Judging by the fierce look he’s giving you, it might still take a while.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t something you haven’t done already. So you readjusted your foot to step on his groin, earning yourself a muffled whine from the man as he recoiled into a ball. “Nghh- hngghhff…♡♥︎♡” good, you could see his facade crumble already. Then you stroked through his hair once again, this time proclaiming, “now, I don’t want to hear anything other than mewls and moans coming out of that mouth. Do you understand, bladie?”
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esouliie · 9 hours ago
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AND I’LL STILL SEE IT UNTIL I DIE.
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(natasha romanoff x reader) (wanda maximoff & reader)
summary | In a world that’s only even been bleak, Natasha was your anchor, your light in the storm. But now she’s gone, her final act a selfless sacrifice to save a future you’re not sure you can face without her. The shadows are closing in, and so, you’re left with an impossible choice: to succumb to the weight of your loss or to find the strength to honour her sacrifice by living on — for yourself and for her.
warnings | angst, hurt/comfort, open ending, natasha is dead, reader is borderline suicidal, wanda is a good friend.
notes | i am sorry for this lol… but you guys must share my pain and im currently in a lot of it. i miss natasha too much. also, i wrote this as i listened to loml by taylor swift, do i wanna know? by hozier and for good by wicked on repeat so if it’s all over the place, that’s why lmao.
dedicated to @historyofstoriesendingsadly ⊹♡
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It was quiet on the edge of the lake. Too quiet for someone who knew Natasha Romanoff. For someone like Natasha Romanoff. It’s odd how this was her favourite place. The stillness doesn’t suit her. She was never the type to bask in silence; she thrived in moments where chaos and calm intertwined, where danger and peace blurred. But here, now, there’s only the still, glassy surface of the water reflecting the overcast sky. It felt wrong, to be out here alone, but you knew there’s no other way this could be done.
No one could’ve done what she did.
You tightened your grip on the small bouquet of wildflowers in your hand, their stems damp against your palm.
It was better this way.
Natasha would have hated the theatrics of a big funeral.
She wouldn’t want everyone standing in line, shaking hands, and trading formal condolences. She saw how personally informal of a funeral Peggy had. She was pretty sure nobody there even knew of the woman. No, this—the quiet, intimate setting, the lake she would sit by as she watched the sunset during your visits—felt more like her. More honest.
You set the flowers down on the wooden dock and sit cross-legged beside them, staring out at the rippled water. “I miss you.” You murmured, your voice barely breaking the silence. “And this is stupid. I’ve never even been to a funeral so I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that you’re not here and I couldn’t just …”
Your words faltered, and you glanced down at your hands, trying to find something, anything, that won’t make you fall apart.
But it’s impossible.
The flowers beneath your fingers begin to crumble under your strength.
You twirled the wedding ring on your left hand.
You remembered the first time you officially met her. Her sharp wit sliced cleanly through the tension in the room, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as if she already knew she’d win you over. And she did, effortlessly. She had a way of making herself the most intriguing person in any space, her words both a challenge and an invitation. Even then, you couldn’t help but be drawn to her. She was fire wrapped in silk, a paradox that made her impossible to ignore.
And there was the first mission in Prague, where she saved your life in more ways than one. It was an extraction mission, deceptively simple on paper but riddled with complications the moment boots hit the ground. The target was heavily guarded, and you, fueled by adrenaline and an unshakable drive to prove yourself worthy, pushed ahead despite Natasha’s warnings to wait for backup.
You could still hear her voice in your earpiece, sharp and edged with frustration. "Don’t be stupid, Agent. Stick to protocol." But plans fell apart quickly in the chaos, and before you knew it, you were cornered in a crumbling alleyway, blood trickling from a fresh gash on your forehead, and your weapon lying just out of reach.
But like a ghost in the shadows, she was there. And she moved with a precision that was almost frightening, taking down your attackers in the blink of an eye. By the time the dust settled, you were still catching your breath, slumped against the cold brick wall, while she holstered her weapon and crouched beside you.
"Had enough of the reckless heroics?" She teased, her tone light but her gaze assessing the wound on your forehead. You were expecting a harsh reprimanding for your huge mess up.
Natasha gently brushed a curl away from your face stuck to your open wound. "You’re just as reckless as I was at your age, and trust me when I say, that’s not a compliment."
That night, after the mission was complete and the adrenaline had worn off, you found yourself perched on a sink as she dabbed a damp cloth against you, cleaning the hardened blood from your face.
"I thought I had it under control.” You admitted, wincing as she pressed the cloth a little too firmly against the cut.
"You thought wrong.” She replied without missing a beat.
“I wanted to prove to you that I handle it.”
At first, she seemed at lost for words.
“In this world, you must think first. Act second.” She placed the cloth back into the sink, seemingly done with her aid.
“And most importantly, you must listen to me… you’re no good to anyone if you get yourself killed."
There was a pause, a heaviness in her voice that made you glance up at her. For all her sharp edges and cutting remarks, there was something unspoken in her expression—a flicker of concern she didn’t bother to hide with you.
She cared for you.
It was then you noticed how green her eyes were.
You remembered the way she let her walls down for you. It wasn’t immediate, that trust. Natasha Romanoff was a fortress, her defenses honed through years of abuse, loss, and survival. She didn’t let people in easily; you knew that from the start. Yet, for some reason, she chose you.
Or maybe you chose each other.
Either way, it was at a slow and tentative pace.
There was the night she told you about the Red Room. Not all of it—she never gave you all of it—but enough to make your chest tighten with insurmountable anger. She’d stared at her hands as she spoke. The first time you had ever seen her so frail as she spoke, and yet, her voice was so even it almost sounded detached. But you saw the way her fingers trembled and you reached over to take her hand.
She tried to pull away, but you didn’t let her.
“I’m so sorry life has been so cruel to you.” You had said softly.
She didn’t respond, just looked at you with those green eyes that embraced you tight with each glance.
She held your hand the entire night.
Dismantled piece by piece, you found the woman behind the spy: the one who only watched bad movies, liked to share coffee with you that was way too strong, and carried more guilt than anyone should.
Loving her was simple.
And you remember Vormir. The dreaded decision. And the way her choice was made before you even realised what was happening. Clambering for a grasp on her as she headed for the cliff’s edge, your heart pounded like war drums, drowning out everything except the sound of her voice. That trembling voice, steadier than you could ever be in that moment, told you it was okay. That this was her way of making things right.
But it wasn’t okay.
It would never be okay.
You begged her, pleaded with her, but the determination in her eyes was unshakable. You’d seen Natasha resolute before, but never like this. You needed her, but the world needed her more. Her gaze softened when she looked at you, her lips twitching into the faintest, bittersweet smile.
Natasha had never been scared of dying.
But now, she was scared of what this would do to you.
Tears blurred your vision as you fought for her hold, your fingers clawing desperately against hers. Her own wedding band cutting into your skin. “Don’t you dare, Romanoff.” You choked out, voice battling against the rush of wind. “It’s not your time!”
Despite her confidence, you could see the subtle fear. You saw the cracks in her armor, the little girl that was once trapped in the Red Room shining through. The one who had told you once that she never thought she’d make it out of this fight alive.
And now here she was, proving herself right.
Her lips parted to speak, but she didn’t say goodbye. She wouldn’t let herself say it for she knew she wouldn’t be able to follow through. To do what is needed. Instead, she just looked at you as if you were the last good thing she’d ever know, and her hand trembled in yours once more.
“I love you.”
And then, it slipped.
Too quick enough for you to readjust.
You screamed as she fell, the sound of it tearing through your throat, breaking you in ways unimaginable. Time slowed, and yet it wasn’t enough to catch her. You watched as the green in her eyes disappeared as her body struck the rocks below, your world cracked wide open.
You didn’t even notice the tiny red stone appear in your hand as you cried her name into the wind.
It was Natasha Romanoff who had sacrificed her life that day, for the hope of a better future, but in truth, both of you had died at the bottom of that cliff.
The tears came suddenly, hot and unwelcome, but you didn’t fight them. You’d learned to let them fall and embrace their sharp sting, as if it were the only way to keep her memory alive.
You heard the crunch of footsteps behind you, faint at first, growing louder with every measured step. Your breath hitched. You didn’t turn around immediately. You couldn’t. Part of you desperately hoped it was her—that this was all some cruel mistake, and when you turned, she’d be there. Natasha, with her arms crossed, a wry smile tugging at her lips, would tease you for sitting out here in the cold, lost in thought. She’d say something dry and sarcastic, like she always did to lighten the mood, and everything would be fine again.
But it’s not her.
It will never be her again.
“I thought I might find you here,” came a quiet voice behind you. Wanda’s Sokovian accent became a lot more prominent over the years.
You had found out she was also grieving the love of her life. Vision didn’t make it off the battlefield in Wakanda.
You didn’t look at her, not at first. Unable to tear your gaze away from the ripples of the lake, you wasn’t ready to face someone else’s pain, not when yours was already so unbearable.
But when she sat beside you, her presence a hushed comfort, you finally glanced her way. Her eyes were rimmed red, an exhaustion in her expression that mirrored your own. “I didn’t… know her as long as you did,” she said, staring out at the water. “But she meant so much to me. She was always so kind. Even when she didn’t have to be.”
You nod, swallowing hard. “That’s right. She didn’t let a lot of people in, but once she did…she’d do anything for you.”
Wanda let out a small chuckle before admitting, “She would’ve hated seeing you like this.”
The two of you sat in silence for a long moment, torn between speaking the truth and keeping it all inside. You wanted to tell her she should have thought about it before throwing herself off that cliff—before willingly abandoning you, knowing that even if the war was won, life would never be the same for you.
You let the anger wash over you.
“I should have been stronger.” You whispered, voice cracking before you could finish. “I should have stopped her.”
Wanda turned to you sharply. “You can’t blame yourself. She made her choice. She believed in what she was doing. You know that.”
It was the truth. You had always known that. Wanda didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand that. Natasha was always the one to make the hard choices, to carry the burden so others didn’t have to. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.
You closed your eyes, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill. You had promised her, at the start of your relationship, that she wouldn’t have to carry that burden anymore. You had sworn to her that she deserved better than what the world had ever given her, and that you would be the one to show her.
For the rest of your life.
Until death do you part.
But in the end, she had still done what Natasha always did—she put everyone else before herself.
Wanda reached out, her hand brushing against yours. “She’s still here,” she said softly. “We carry her with us in everything we do until we meet again. She wouldn’t want us to let this break us.”
You wiped your eyes, taking a shaky breath. “She was my everything.”
“And she knew that.” Wanda replied, tightening her grip. “She felt that, and you gave her more than you’ll ever know.”
“I don’t know what to do without her. I don’t think I can survive like this.” You admitted outloud for the first time.
It had been eating at you. Your life had abruptly lost all meaning, the colours dulled, the vibrancy stripped. Deep down, you didn’t even want to try to going, to find purpose in the chaos she left behind.
Nothing would work.
Nothing, and no one, could fix it.
Could fix you.
You needed Natasha to carry on living. Without her, you were only half a person, stumbling through a world that no longer made sense.
How cruel the world was to let you taste the sweetness of her love, only to rip it away from you so mercilessly.
Wanda stood by the edge. She reached out with a quiet patience, guiding you to your feet with a gentle touch. The dock creaked beneath your shifting weight, but neither of you spoke as she crouched to pick up what remained of the wildflower bouquet. Cradling the bouquet in both of your hands, she looked at you with an expression that was both solemn and soft. She had always been so kind to you. Her eyes glimmered and she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, motioning for you to toss the flowers into the water.
“You live. You live for her.” And the simplicity of her words felt like a balm, a truth you hadn’t realised you needed to hear.
You hesitated for a moment, fingers trembling slightly against the delicate stems. But then, with a deep breath, you let them go. The flowers tumbled from your hands, spinning in slow motion before they touched the surface of the lake.
“For her.”
The water rippled as the bouquet floated away, carried by the slow current, and swallowed by the horizon. Neither of you said anything after that. There wasn’t anything left to say. The silence was filled with the soft lapping of water against the wood and the distant hum of crickets waking for the night. The orange and pink hues of the sunset reflected on the lake, painting the scene with a warm glow. The air grew cold but Wanda’s hand in yours pressed warmth deep within.
The green of the flower stems caught the fading light, and for a fleeting moment, they reminded you of Natasha’s eyes once more.
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thatndginger · 2 years ago
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Actually @writeintrees I am not quite done with talking about the Shapeshifter Coffeeshop AU, because I can't just leave anything alone lol
Side note: the coffeeshop au world is just our world. No magic or shapeshifters or anything, just cute vibes
The shop is called Salty Dog Cafe. It started out as a joke because Carlisle was a sailor on cargo ships in his twenties, but everyone loves the name. It's near one of the city's piers, yet another reason to embrace the name. The staff refer to themselves collectively as the 'dog pack', and it's a tradition to write what kind of dog you think you'd be on your nametag - or other animal, if a dog doesn't quite fit.
The logo is a scottish deerhound wearing one of those sou'wester hats and sporting an exaggerated beard and a smoking pipe. Warrick likes to hide the logo somewhere in window murals. Currently, the Instagram-follower favorite is one he did of the hound - wearing the hat and a yellow rainslicker - standing in a little boat and facing down a kraken. Occasionally Warrick'll swap the deerhound for another type of dog (one that a staff member has claimed) to see who notices.
The Salty Dog opens at 6am and stays open until 10 at night, which is how they have such a diverse array of regulars and the whole morning/evening shift thing. Whoever is the designated baker for the day usually gets in at about 5am to start in on the morning's goodies. Kerr' schedule usually means he's working the morning baker shift the first half of the week, then flips to evenings for the second half. No one knows how he manages this but he actually get annoyed if you try and put him on all mornings.
When the second location opens, Reese calls it the Salty Cat Cafe, and has Warrick make a second logo that depicts a grizzled persian cat in sou'wester hat and pipe. A friendly 'rivalry' between the dogs and cats is born shortly after - no one takes it too seriously though, it's all for fun and publicity. The baked goods at the Salty Cat are a lot 'tamer' than the Dog, owing to the fact that Kerr mainly works at the Dog and his protege Aleksei isn't nearly as good at coming up with gross-sounding-but-tasty recipes. Yet.
Warrick and Kerr do manage to convince Carlisle to get a liquor license for the Salty Dog (it doesn't take much convincing, honestly) and create an entire menu for it over the course of a few very long, very tipsy weeks. The drinks aren't actually that boozy, just enough to get the flavor and kick from the alcohol. Jay and Portia refuse to sell more than two to a single customer, insisting that they're baristas not bartenders. The cafe only sell this 'hard coffee' option after 5pm, and usually only on nights when there's live music in house. It's more of a novelty thing, honestly, but it draws business all the same.
As for the regulars...
While everyone is convinced that Adrien Montrose is part of the mafia, he's not. The Montrose family are business tycoons, and they may have some cutthroat business tactics, but they're not criminals. Adrien starts coming to the Salty Dog because he's the manager of one of the family's businesses nearby, and one of his staff recommended the cafe. He keeps coming because the coffee is actually really good, and he secretly enjoys the way Kerr 'haggles' him into buying some of the baked goods in the mornings.
(They started dating when Adrien came in one evening on a live music night and Kerr used the opportunity of a full house to corner Adrien and ask him if he was actually part of the mafia or not. Adrien used that as an opportunity to take Kerr on a date disguised as a 'come to this address and find out' challenge. They just ended up hooking up in Adrien's office. The animals.)
No one is aware that Adrien is a Montrose at first, and they definitely don't know that he and Lucas are related. Lucas only appears occasionally, almost always when he's made it his goal to make Adrien's day difficult. He's set to inherit the CEO title for the Montrose Group, and likes to make sure his youngest brother knows his place as a simple manager.
Along that line, while most of the Salty Cat staff are pretty sure Luka Kovac is a mafia enforcer or something, he's actually a giant nerd working at the local planetarium. He just looks scary as hell. He likes the cafe because it's quiet and has a cozy atmosphere, and someone on the staff keeps stocking the 'take one, leave one' bookcase with vintage sci-fi. He starts leaving his own sci-fi books in exchange, and slowly everyone catches on to the fact that he's just a giant, soft dork.
Calypso de la Fuente is a nightclub owner, which is why she only ever shows up in the hour or so before the Salty Dog closes. She'll only come in when she's had to be awake during the day for something, which happens every couple of weeks. Whoever is stuck making her horrifying twelve-shot, amaretto-drizzled monstrosity usually also has to navigate her trying-to-be-nice-but-too-tired-for-niceties conversation. Then she'll down half the drink on her way out the door and head to her club until the wee hours of the morning. She and Jay have definitely flirted with each other, but Calypso already has a girlfriend and Jay just likes flirting with terrifying women.
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yo-yo-yoshiko · 23 days ago
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Hajime "Heart Guy" "Incredible Violence" Aikawa
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b4kuch1n · 1 year ago
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siren
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formereldestdaughter · 10 months ago
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ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....
This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.
I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?
(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)
I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.
Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.
And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.
I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he���s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.
(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)
I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.
We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.
On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??
So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.
It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.
Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).
But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.
Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?
Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?
#peeta mellark#thg#the hunger games#the hunger games meta#anyway wow this got so long and I literally read it through one (1) time so uhhh sorry if this makes no sense!!#as I was doing my one read through and realized that one of my other thoughts on this is that yeah I can much more easily see the#headcanon that peeta like sells baked goods (probably at cost with no profit) out of his kitchen because that’s much more flexible#and I think that would work a lot better with what like I guess I’d call his psychiatric disability post mockingjay#and how he’d certainly want to take care of Katniss too#like that sort of flexibility makes a lot more sense for him and it’s like. if he doesn’t bake for a few days or however long then it’s fin#it’s not a formal brick and mortar business#it’s just something he’s doing because it’s a way to be involved with people and a way to do something he’s passionate about#without there being waste and while covering some of the costs#and he doesn’t have to like keep books or do payroll or any of the things I can’t see him being very passionate about#as far as like bakery management goes Lmao he can just bake!!#but then I started getting into this whole thing about how that quote-unquote ‘running a business’ like that (informally from your house)#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh#anyway and then this whole rant about how the emphasis on the brick and mortar bakery often goes hand in hand with#this widespread fandom thing of having a fundamental misunderstanding of how rural poverty works and what it looks like#but then I was too deep into it and said you know what? never mind! and deleted it lmao
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spiralmode · 2 months ago
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wait im rewatching saw 2004 and as a germaphobe one of the cruelest things i had to watch adam endure was dig around in that toilet ("find anything?" "no solids!" 🤢) anyway so he had just taken out the play me tape out of a ziploc bag and that stuck with me because I was like okay that's something he could use idk for what but for something, and so then that toilet scene happens and im like yelling at my screen adam!!! no!!!!!!!!! use the ziploc bag as a glove ahhhhhhh !! but he just went right in there with only one small moment of hesitation
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spaghett-onaplate · 7 months ago
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depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed
#and wdym that lifestyle changed so quickly into being out and about and an active member of the world??#very proud of myself#and i mean it wasn't that quick of a change#it was like 1.5 years primarily depression bedrotting with occasional school -> primarily depression bedrotting ->#primarily depression bedrotting with 3-9 hours of work weekly -> straight into 31+ hours school+9-12 hours work weekly#so there was somewhat of a gradual progression#but still#also wowza i wake up 7-7:30am every morning now. 1pm was an early wake up for a not so insignificant amount of time#i mean of all fundamental growth years to miss out on the ages like what 12/13-15 aren't too bad? they would suck in a different way if i#had been socially involved#anyway it's just. yea i'm proud of myself but it is a crazy lifestyle change#and even when i was deeply depressed in a horrible routine i feel like i learned a lot. how to regulate my emotions and cope well and find#the joy in everything. bc if i stayed in bed all day then i would at least be happy about the sun or whatever#and for the while of being not at school at all i WANTED to be at school i just could not find one bc our school system is so cute like tha#(basically every school is at capacity and the local school that has a guaranteed place for me would have been an all boys or girls 😭)#but i miraculously found and got into this school and miraculously made it work so well for me socially and now academically#it's also a good time to get back into school for my education bc any later and it woulda been pretty bad for all my certifications and uni#ive missed out on so much maths that its not worth it to me to try and catch up but my teacher knows that#but ive always hated maths regardless i only ever understood it for the first half of yr 7 then my attendance dropped#and after my recent exam i decided to try harder at school. but i still got an A on the exam i didn't study for!! academic weapon fr#i'm just idk thinking back to myself in the past few years#and how hopeless it all felt. but i got out of it!! i beat the depression and social anxiety and found a good place and made the most of it#and during the peak of my depression i remember i went out someplace near my old school and panicked so so badly about seeing#kids from my old school. and the friends at the time didnt really check on me when i went to shake and cry in a side street lmao#i kept the best of that friendgroup and have better friends now. but anyway now i take a bus each morning with some kids from my old school#and you see these hands? they look like they're shaking to you?#anyway yeah it's just cool i got to this point :) i really had no hope for so long but now i have a life i'm living and a future i'm build#--ing towards#which is funny i just decided some random day last november after watching some better call saul 'huh actually lawyer would b pretty cool'#and will i get there? we'll see but i do have hope now
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trevisos · 1 month ago
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got sick and had to play this scene again
#i don’t feel like i changed magpie’s face much from my first playthrough to this#time but then i reload her original saves and it’s like. a little uncanny valley?#anyway like.#this scene is so deeply not canon for magpie due to the whole Neve Is Gone situation. that means these two would not be able to have like#normal sex. LOL#but like. the Feelings here are. the vibe is. i can imagine he still kneels like that#places himself at her feet. takes her hand in his.#he doesn’t say he loves her because he can’t. not yet.#not until it’s over.#not until neve is back in their arms.#but even still… madrigal is here and close and Alive and it’s more than he expected#it’s more than he deserves.#the first talon kneels at the feet of some no one fifth house assassin. some boy who never should have survived training. whose name was#meant to be a prophecy fulfilled and not a mantle shrugged off.#but she’s here and she’s alive and she is home. more home than antiva ever was.#and with neve still gone it’s difficult to feel anything but sick dread but he allows himself one more indulgence anyway#when he stares into magpie’s eyes and holds her hand against his heart and kisses her slow and soft and sweet.#he thought them both lost. thought that the first happiness he had ever known was stripped from him. but she came back#and maybe neve will too. maybe it will be okay. he will do whatever it takes to make it that way.#god i want him dead. LMAO#漫言#datv spoilers#r. birds of a feather#<- i keep almost tagging them as ‘murder of crows’ but that is someone else’s tag LOL#oc. magpie#z plays da#i have to hide all my character thoughts in the tags bc i’m shy.
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yellllowstar · 18 days ago
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slowly I'm recovering the beauty of discovery
(creature by half•alive)
(textless + timelapse below cut)
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#yellowart#subnautica#i feel like the timelapse is kinda long but also this did take a long time to make#anyways. let me yap about the meanings of all the panels <3#'i am creation' -> the ocean being the source of life and where shit evolved from also a good way to sort of 'set the scene' for subnautica#'both haunted' -> GHOST leviathan; in the BONE fields#'and holy' -> this one was a bit trickier. debated about using the emperor but i knew i wanted to use her elsewhere#also debated hoverfish because its cute and well liked so i thought that would be funny for 'and holy'#also something something jesus walking on water also makes it fitting. in the end though i decided on a peeper with the enzyme trail#and i *tried* to make it loop over its head like a halo but idk how well that imagery came through. still mentioned it in the alt text tho.#'made in glory' -> was REALLY torn about this one. on the one hand i wanted to have like a picture of the code because something something#divine machine and it being made out of code making it inherently holy or something; but i wasnt sure if that would be too#'immersion breaking' since most of the stuff in this is like in game stuff i wasnt sure if acknowledging that it was a game would be#too much. my other idea was to draw a couple of creature eggs like a stalker egg and a spadefish egg or something; but in the end i just#went with the one that i personally thought was cooler so if you think it does feel out of place uhhhh sorry i guess lmao.#also yes that is code from the game. idk shit about programming i just think code shit is cool so i poked though a modding tutorial til i#found what it is they use to look at that shit and started poking around. its pretty cool tbh. anyways the specific part i chose for the#drawing was something under the peepers; i think its the bit that tells the enzyme peepers to do the enzyme stuff like the trail obviously#but also some other stuff. not 100% sure though like i said idk shit about this sort of thing but everything in there seems pretty well#labeled its kinda impressive. and very helpful for navigating even if you dont know shit lol.#anyways. 'even the depths of the night cannot blind me' -> blood kelp trench is i think one of the darkest biomes in the game#possibly THE darkest so i thought it would be fitting. probably my least favorite panel though i dont think i did a very good job#representing the area or representing the bloodvines :/#'when you guide me' -> sea emperor but more specifically her messages to the player telling you to 'come here'#'creature only' -> not sure how well i can articulate this but basically the idea of humans beig animals with animal needs to eat and drink#and the idea of being a part of the ecosystem. modern life tends to make us forget that sort of thing but id imagine for ryley being on the#planet would violently remind him of this with things trying to eat him while he has to try to eat things as well. being part of the food#web. 'creature only' because he is only a creature not non-essential systems maintenance chief; but a creature living in an environment and#trying to survive. or something like that. does that make any fucking sense to anyone besides me? whatever.#anyways yapping over 👍
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blujayonthewing · 20 days ago
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I wish I had any way of knowing whether people have gotten Weirder™ about my name in recent years or if this has been happening behind the scenes the entire time
I've been going by Jay since I was 11. At the time nobody objected to or questioned this, at least not to me; I found out many years later that Jay is supposedly a "boy's name," but nobody ever said 'you can't use that as a nickname, it's a boy's name' and it went completely uncontested by anyone when I switched. Lots of kids announced some manner of name change at the start of a new school year in middle school; it was all normal and fine. My mom and, you know, grandmas and other relatives kept calling me Jessica, which was also fine! I didn't make a big family announcement or correct any relatives on this, I just wanted to differentiate myself from the half dozen other Jessicas in school.
For twenty years!! This has gone on being perfectly normal! My Real Name™ is an increasingly obscure bit of trivia I get to spring on friends who didn't realize I had one, which is always funny (my brother in law didn't believe me and demanded to see my driver's license). My mom and grandmas have largely still called me Jess, and that's also fine! It's nice, even! There's a particular intimacy there of having a name only my mother uses-- but, crucially, I have never asked her not to, or said that I don't like it. And as FAR AS I KNOW, this has all been true and fine for TWENTY YEARS.
My own feelings about it have never changed, and feel, to me, very straightforward: if I tell you that my name is Jay, and you decide that no it isn't, that is a problem. That's the rule. That's literally it. I had a high school teacher who asked on the syllabus for us to write down if we went by something other than our full name, who was nonetheless UNIQUE among all of my teachers from 6th grade onward in always and only ever calling me Jess, even though I signed all my work Jay, all the other teachers called me Jay, he literally asked whether anyone wanted to be called something else and I answered Jay, and I had him for two semesters. I met a work friend of Justin's once who asked upon introduction whether Jay was short for something, and when I told him it was short for Jessica he took it upon himself to call me Jess instead. This isn't me having a problem with any particular iteration of my name, this is just asshole behavior! I told you what my name was and you said 'no it isn't'. The problem here does not seem complex to me?
But within the last [hand wiggle] handful of years I feel like it keeps getting weirder? Apparently my dad and grandma argued about it at my wedding rehearsal-- she, dramatically, insisting 'I don't care, her name is Jessica, I'm going to call her that ;n;' and my dad angrily defensive that no it isn't, I go by Jay, that should be respected. And I'm sitting here listening to my dad relay this in utter bewilderment like. Well dad I love the energy but I have never been bothered at all if grandma calls me Jessica. I have never even once asked her not to or complained to anyone that she does. But also this is the grandma who HAS called me Jay more often than not?? My mom's mom never picked it up, but I was astonished to hear my dad's mom was acting like this was some New Dramatic Change that she Hated and not a thing she's literally already been doing for, again, twenty entire years. Why are you suddenly making it weird! Last weekend Justin's stepmom mentioned seeing my mom at the hospital where mom works, and how she said something like 'yes I'm Jessica's mom-- wait, no, Jay, she hates it when I do that' and I just?? I literally don't, the only problem now is that people who know me won't know who the fuck you're talking about
all of this and I'm just. I am literally just sitting here. why are we inventing problems out of this two decades later. what is going on
#I went by jess on purpose once in a college art class because there was a guy actually named jay#and I was like 'fuck this is why I dropped jessica in the first place' lmao#one time I put 'jay' on the preferred name line on medical intake paperwork and then when the doc was like 'jay?' I was like OH I hate that#oh no doctors Must Only use my paperwork name it turns out lmao#Justin's work friend calling me jess was so ??? you're not my MOM????#harvest moon awl has a 'what should I call you now that we're married' mechanic for I assume Darling or whatever#but one time I had my video game husband call me jess#justin also in real life has Jess Privilages but he doesn't want them because HE has only ever known me as jay#IT'S CONTEXTUAL. IT'S NOT THE NAME IT'S THE CONTEXT. IT'S THE RESPECT OR LACK THEREOF BEHIND WHAT NAME YOU USE#both my parents suddenly overcorrecting is weird but ultimately fine because the intention is clearly good#my grandma suddenly acting like it's a problem sets my teeth on edge. hey. this was never a problem before. what do YOU think this is about.#uhhh not to get. into it but. my dad is also almost definitely projecting baggage onto the situation that's got nothing to do with me#dad at christmas: it's just disrespectful! if someone tells you their name or their pronouns you don't get to decide they're wrong!!#me: I completely agree. not actually relevant to whether mom specifically calls me jess because that is in fact allowed but. I mean.#me: if you hypothetically told YOUR mom you go by something else now she SHOULD just use that instead. you're not wrong. hypothetically.#AAAANYWAY not to tangent on THAT too much#for ME having a nickname was so normal and it's only very abruptly been made weird by others and I'm baffled and annoyed about it#my mom's stepsister I see every handful of years: hi jess-- oh wait your mom said you go by jay now?#me: I've gone by jay since 2001 what is going ON--#I don't think it even occurred to me to wonder about Gender when it was mr hughes 'jess'ing me in high school but in retrospect I wonder#THE THING IS JAY ISN'T A MAN'S NAME TO ME. I MADE IT UP I DIDN'T KNOW IT HAD A GENDER. IT'S A GIRL'S NAME TO ME BECAUSE IT'S MY NAME!!#DON'T BE FUCKING WEIRD!!!#hhhuuaagh#I've talked about all this before but it came up again TWICE at christmas in ways that made me go STOP BEING WEIRD lmao#so it's on my mind again#about me
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phagodyke · 3 months ago
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the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍
#struggling to tolerate this one ngl its fucking dire this weekend. i just cant do this man#thr things i would fucking do for attention please. just one person to notice and care in the slighest i feel like im losing my fucking#mind out here how does every single person who has ever mattered to me in my lifr see me in distress and choose to ignore it or maybe they#dont even recognise im ij distress in the first place i dont know whats worse i dont think i hide it well at all im just so done#listen like ultimately its fucking fine. i will get myself through it like ive gotten myself through everything else in my fuckijg life#i dont even feel bad that often these days im doing so so so much better and its so much more tolerable to only have to deal with this#once or twice a week instead of it being a struggle every single day like i dont think i could go back to feeling like that again ever i#dont know how i managed to get througyh it before jesus fucking christ. but i can deal with it i can deal with this#ik ill feel fine tomorrow. its just thr fact im so desperately fucking alone with it that makes it so much worse than it has to be#i fucking hate repression i hate being so incapable of expressing myself that its easier for me to injure myself than it is to talk about#how i feel to anyone i hate being trapped in this stupif fucking torture labyrinth and not knowing how to get out of it and never being#given a single avenue anything to hold onto i hate having to do it alone every single fucking time and when i do try i just freeze out#entirely i cant form a coherent thought my brain enters total fucking shutdown pure static white noise fuzz and i dont know why please#its so unfair i dont think its that much to want a little comfort. just once just for someone to stay with me while i cry it doesnt have#to be more than that i just dont want to be alone like this i just want to feel safe around someone just close to someone just once#and well ill survive without it bc i always have i guess. so far at least. and there are many things im grateful for and i do in general#feel pretty okay my life is pretty good at times even. i feel so pathetic and stupid and ashamed for even feeling like this#but do i have to go my entire life without ever experiencing any kind of real intimacy with another person emotionally that is#i mean physical is nice too and they go hand in hand in some ways but i just want to feel seen and safe over anything.im tired#i feel like i try.but not hard enough i know its all my fault really but i dont know how to try any harder but nothing will ever change if#i dont i cant expect anyone to do anything if i cant rven communicate in thr first place. oh i dont want to think about it anymore#i have a headache from crhing and its not even 8pm ugh. okay. well it is what it is.#ill breathe until i calm down and then tidy up whatever i left in the kitchen and get my work stuff ready for tmr#and polish my boots maybe. and read and go to bed at 9:30 i think. and ill feel fine in the morning#my fault for thinking about it earlier i know i shouldve nipped it earlier on its such an easy spiral to fall into i need to get better#it happens. okay anyway. no cause for concern im good guys. weakly thumbs up at the camera all covered in blood#my period is late actually thats probably all this is lmao. makes sense thinking abt it#cant wait for it to finally start and all earthly desire to leave my body so i never experience pain again amen#.vent#ignore this sorry for being mentally ill im not even that mentally ill anymore so no excuse rly ummmm. bit embarrassing innit.
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stars-n-spice · 2 months ago
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forever will be haunted by all the thoughts I have about my ocs that I don't voice/draw/write about because I don't have the skills/capacity/time/motivation to do so.
i'll think up of something that's got me chewing on glass and punching concrete and just ahhhughhh
i could write essays about them. i'm so tempted to make some whole ass powerpoint detailing them and picking them apart with the help of the enneagram just for funies
sometimes i just will sit in silence after thinking of something about them or i'll cry or i'll be like 'LET'S FUCKING GOO!' and then literally do nothing with it
aaguuuughhhh
So many thoughts just....there.
and i feel even crazier because sometimes it's just me screaming into a void about these guys
but i love and appreciate the couple of people who listen when i do scream into the void <3
but oh my god.
i'm being consumed.
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einsatzzz · 8 months ago
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art time-lapse of this piece that i posted in IG b4 to try out doing reels. i really like how this turned out overall plus "yasashii suisei" (link for eng tl) really fit the vibes so im queueing this here too
#khr#khre#khr oc#oniyanagi#hibari kyoya#ninomiya kanako#oc#hibakana#einart#tags yapping abt hibakana ahead 🫡#the quote that inspired this one still lives rent-free in my brain#“my alone feels so good i'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude”#both of them are the type of people who likes to move on their own and dislikes being restricted#and they thrive that way without needing to look out for things like social cues/other's perceptions/the will of a “majority”#there's this certain type of independence that i rlly admire for each of these two characters#if they don't feel comfortable with a person#or if the person's company does not spark any joy#as much as their peace and quiet does#then why would they even hang out and spend/invest time with them amirite? theyre not abt that fake life#nowadays its very common for me to hear abt boomers asking ppl when they're gonna get an s/o or marriage#or just others forcing ppl to conform with the social norms and what's considered as “normal”#so these two rlly bring me a lot of comfort#on their own; if i were to depict them on separate stories#khre aside and just considering khr; idt id ship hibari with anyone; he would be my a-spec king icon idol and legend who does wtv he wants🫶#kana too mdbxndbddjbd her previous version b4 this had another oc/canon ship but i don't rlly fck with that anymore (still funny tho)#(i realized that that previous ship rlly held her back character-wise---)#(but their (potential/established) platonic relationships with other characters are so *chef kiss* tho--working hard on brainstorming that)#on the other hand i started shipping hibakana for the comedy of their dynamic lmao (it should be around b4 sou & i reached kokuyo arc)#“wouldn't it be funny if---”#its just a joke there's supposed to be an “/hj” somewhere there i didn't know they would suit e/o's characters & personality this much wtf
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alienglowgarden · 3 months ago
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I shouldve been asleep HOURS ago, instead I did the exo tierlist....
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