#id love to hear others thoughts on the matter (as long as it's respectful)

[sukibenders]

"Why did they make Michael into Michaela? They took away one of the hottest men in Bridgeton now!" Okay, now it's one of the hottest women in the show. What's the issue now? Still got Francesca and Michael, in a way.

"Francesca's infertility plotline is ruined now! It was so important in the books!" Why can't she still have this particular plot, while still being with Michaela? Why is that suddenly erased now that Michael is a woman? Do you not believe that sapphic woman can't also struggle with infertility? There are multiple ways that the show can still incorporate this.

"Why are they making everyone gay now? It was fine when it was just Benedict but now-" I'm going to stop you right there. What's wrong with having more than one queer character? There are multiple straight people in the show, and in most forms of media, but you draw the line at having more than one gay/queer person? Imagine what it's like for other queer people to not be represented or to only have that one person be a vessel for the entire community. Doesn't sound very fair right? Another thing, because I see a lot of people who say this call themselves "allies", it doesn't sound very supportive when you say things like this. It doesn't instill confidence in your support for the queer community when you can't even fathom the possibility of more than one queer person on your screen without complaint. It's okay to be a little bummed out about the change, but to use rhetoric like above feels very...it leaves a sour taste in the mouth personally.

[darling--angst]

Hello!! For the 100+ follower request

Id like to request cloud 9 (1) Chuuya and romantic if possible

Congratulations on over 100 followers <3

Cloud 9

Pairing: Chūya Nakahara x Fem! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Not proofread

Synopsis: Chūya Nakahara grew to love his assistant just like how she turned out to loved him.

A/n: I'm feeling pretty useless and a bit suicidal right now :) semester starts on the 1st day of August so I'll be pretty busy after that. I am sorry if this isn't what you looked for..

Was in my drafts for who knows how long because Tumblr had an error and my drafts wouldn't save...

Event // PM.Masterlist // M.Masterlist

The five tall buildings in the center of Yokohama casted a shadow on the moonlit streets. It was the buildings owned by Mori corporation and where the rulers of the night lies, you are not foreign to them just as they are to you. The automatic door opened and you walked in, a few members showed respect by greetings and you did so too. Your black boots hit the tiled floor while walking towards the elevators, putting in the floor number, you took your phone out of your pocket and dialed a number. The phone in your hand slowly rang, and the elevator closed.

"Sir?" You called his name and could hear his slurs on the other line.

"(name).?" Oh how you loved to hear his voice, hearing your name slip out of his lips made your heart falter.

"Sir, pardon me but where exactly are you?" You tried fo gain back your composure. "Thank heavens he can't see my face right now" you thought to yourself, feeling hot in your face.

"I'm here at a bar, why?" He muttered between hiccups.

"The boss sent me a message to inform you about a sudden meeting. Osam-I mean the former executive Dazai Osamu is held captive in the dungeon, his execution is already on date" the elevator rang and opened, stepping out, you headed to your office; while he continued to listen.

You could feel his anger from the other line while he gritted his teeth upon hearing his former partner's name. You stopped by your office and grabbed a document before closing the door, releasing a thud.

"When's the meeting?" He asked, it seemed as if he really was sober now.

"About three days from now, but it's preferable for you to return the day after tomorrow. After all you do have some matters to attend to in Yokohama, boss said that he'll call you later" You entered the elevator once again and waited for his response.

"I'll return be there tomorrow, answer me if I call alright?"

"Yes sir, good night" You hung up, putting your phone on the pocket of your overcoat. Leaning on the elevator wall, you blushed. Excitement is an understatement of how you felt right now; you could finally see him after a few weeks during his trip overseas.

You put your hand over your chest and began to feel your rapid heartbeat.

"This is wrong.. I'm his secretary and he's my boss, nothing more.. nothing less.. a professional relationship" You struggled as you said the last words, and before you knew it you reached the dungeon.

Clenching the document in hand, you walked down the stairs, the smell of of blood reeking on the air. Your eyes fell to the captive, his arms hanging on the wall and wrists bounded in chains.

"How much do you plan to risk your life , Dazai?" You asked his 'asleep' form, walking near him you noticed the slight twitch on his finger before gently slapping his cheek.

"That really hurt" he opened his eyes to your form.

"Good." You rolled your eyes before brushing away the strand of hair on his face.

"You're so cruel... You do know that you'll be a traitor if you helped me"

"I know." You let out a breathless sigh before removing the bobby pin on his hair and handed it to his hand.

"Reach for my right pocket." His tone of voice was demanding but nonetheless you did what he asked.

"What's this.?" It was a bracelet, it had a flower pattern with a few glass-like-jewels was on top and in the color of gold, on the back it had his and your small initials written on it; as if to prove you it wasn't stolen.

"A bracelet duh!"

"No I mean why.?"

"I missed your birthday for four years didn't I?" He softly smirked before you lightly punched his shoulder.

"...you still owe me three gifts." You muttered before putting the bracelet in the pocket of your overcoat.

"Yeah.."

Silence engulfed the room before she decided to break it.

"Get your stupid ass ready, Akutagawa will beat you up for tomorrow once he knows that you're held captive. You have only tomorrow before that tiger gets captured" You turned around to the stairs after picking the lock of the chains on his feet.

"Ouch. So Akutagawa will come here after capturing Atsushi-kun huh." It was more like a confirmation than a question but yi still answered.

"Yes if that tiger's name is Atsushi"

"Hmm.. But how did you know I'll be here?" He smirked and you continued to go up the stairs.

"Because I know you" You said before you slowly fading into the distance.

"Thanks (name)"

You left the dungeon, went back to her office, and left your overcoat on the couch. Locking the door, you flopped onto your chair and started your computer, you typed and typed, before you knew it; it was already morning. Glancing at the bracelet, it shone while it was hit with the bright sun, then you decided to put it on. Your phone suddenly started to ring just in sync when you slid your arms on your overcoat. Looking at the contact caller, your heart skipped a beat.

"Sir.?"

"I'm going to arrive at the airport soon. Be there with the files" He ordered, his tone of voice was hoarse and demanding.

"Yes." You slightly nodded as if he could see you. With that he hung up, and you sighed. For you that call was more like a reminder that you are nothing but his assistant even if he never knew of your lingering feelings; but it won't make any changes. You left the building and went in your car, driving to the airport.

Chūya's POV

He hung up and his phone dropped to his lap. He heavenly exhaled and looked to the window, as if to hide the blush that crept up to his cheeks.

"How nice it is to hear her voice.." He thought to himself, he felt like pulling his hair out at how stupid he felt for extending his trip to not see her. How foolish he really was..

Ever since he met her a few years back, he grew to love her. He was enchanted by her intelligence, her beauty, her fierce nature, he loved everything about her. He was overcome with excitement when he finally became an executive because it meaned that she could be his assistant, and he would able to see her everyday. That was when he noticed that it was love...

Upon hearing her voice, he wanted to get drunk on it. He wanted to wake up with her beside, while shuffling through her hair just as she did back then to his former partner. He liked her and it was only an understatement, he wants to give her the world and everything she wants.. and now he could finally have his chance to finally do so.

He glances at the small blue box with a ribbon above it. It was a bracelet, one that was a souvenir from his trip, and a gift to you; his only hope for you to accept it along with his feelings.

~Time Skip~

You sat on a small bench and waited for Chūya. You tried to read a book but you couldn't focus because of how fast your heart was beating. No matter how you tried you couldn't get over him, flipping the page to a new chapter, you heard someone call out your name from behind. Looking over the bench, you could see your boss just behind you.

"Ah! Sir" You bowed lightly before continuing to apologize frantically. Ignoring your rambles, his eyes found it's way to your right wrist, and four capitalized letters shone and his eyebrows furrowed upon seeing what it was. 'D.O' and your initials.

"Sir.?" You asked him snapping out of his trance.

"hmm.? Do you need something?" He smiled at you, trying to hide the anger that built up when he realized whose initials those were.

"Uh. No.. I'm just asking if you want to go now" You fiddled with your fingers at the awkwardness.

"Then let's go." He tried his best not to sound angry but it came out more demanding and rude. He internally scolded himself at his pathetic attempt at covering it up, it was likely that you got upset by his actions. You laid your head down before fully responding with a quiet whisper.

"...yes"

The drive was quiet, you were focused on driving and he was looking out the window. You gave him quick glances using the mirror, his features is completely visible to you by such angle, the sunlight hit his ginger hair, it was a sight to behold. Looking away, you could feel your heart skip beats as you turned your focus back on the road. Just then, a pair of ocean eyes landed on you. He couldn't help but clench his fists tight when the bracelet was hit by the sunlight, making it shine. When he was about to look away, his eyes met your by the mirror.

"Do you need something sir?" You turned your eyes on the road, hoping he wouldn't see you blushing.

"Ehem. Yes.. I have a question for you." He tried to look away to hide his red cheeks.

"Ask ahead, sir"

"Why do you still call me by 'sir' and not by my surname or first name?" Truth be told, that was a question that lingered in his mind ever since he left for the trip. "and why do you call that bastard by his first name?" A question that he could never ask you since it may make you think that he was weird for trying to interfere with your personal life.

"I-its only proper for me to call you that since you're my superior" You tried your best to smile but to be honest you wanted to call his name in a honey-like tone, not that you knew he wanted to do the same.

"You've known me ever since I joined the mafia; besides, I call you by your first name for a while now and it's only fair for you to do the same" He nonchalantly explained, trying his best to convince you.

"Okay.. Chūya-san" Your voice was quiet and meek but enough for him to hear. His eyes lightened up before he cleared his voice and looked away.

"Just don't call me sir anymore. It's awkward" He tried to hide the smile that unconsciously crept up his lips, crossing his arms and legs he looked at you.

The drive was silent once again before you lightly chuckled at his reaction, the car was stopped with the heavy traffic, and you turned around to face him.

"I'll keep that in mind Chūya-kun" You smiled at him, your hair fluttering as you turned around. He blushed and muttered a small "whatever" before looking away again, his mind painted with the scene that happened moments ago.

Your mind was flooded with thoughts before you snapped out of it when you heard the traffic lights buzz.

"Oh! Also here" You reached for some files on the car's compartment and handed it to him. "It's a brief review of what you missed and some missions that the boss plans to send you to" You went back to driving after he took the files in your hand.

"Mhm" His expression changed and he looked more serious just as he looked at the files.

After that nobody spoke a single word. You drove to the mafia while he flipped through the documents. The silent breathing from you and the heavy exhales from Chūya is the only sound heard in the car, except the rustling of paper. You broke the silent by muttering a small "We're here" just in sync of you hitting the brakes. The car door released a small click when you opened it, you were about to step out until you felt a gloved hand pull you back.

"Chūya-san?" You stared at him with widened eyes before he let go of you and cleared his voice.

"Ehem! Here! I bought it because it reminded me of you" He reached for his pocket and handed you a small blue box.

"A.. gift.?" Your lips parted as you stared at the box in hand.

"I know that I'm very hard to put up with as you boss, and I realized that I want to—" He struggled to finally say the last words, a scenario playing in his head where you decline his feelings and things will become awkward with you and him.

"—I just.. I want to say say that I really appreciate you hard work" He thought that he finally had the courage to say those words just as he practiced in the mirror but something different came out of his lips.

"I see thank you, Chūya-san" You faintly smiled at before you came to a realization. "We should probably go.." "ah yes.."

That was how the day ended, no important events happened afterwards. You just went and arranged some documents and he attended to the boss's needs, you forgot to open his gift.

Chūya's POV

Another day passed and I was still not able to confess to her. I couldn't get my mind off the bracelet that was on her wrist. A thought that lingered in my mind for too long was"Why did she have a bracelet with his and her initials on it?" Yet, no matter how much I thought of it, I couldn't afford to ask her that, nor to ask her to be my lover.

I woke up in my bed, looking beside me was no one but a hope that I will be able to get the answers to my thoughts and questions. My driver picked me up and I headed to the dungeon, where my former partner is held captive.

"Well isn't this a sight to see... Don't you think so, hmm... Dazai?" Chūya emerged from the shadows and slowly went down the stairs, monitoring Dazai.

"Oh. It's you."

"Hey what's that supposed to mean?! Don't forget that you're the prisoner here shitty Dazai" He pulled his hair closer to him before letting go and turning around.

"Yeah whatever. What are you doing here Chūya."

"I'm here to give you a piece of my mind!" He said before kicking the chains the dangled above his head and punching him in the gut.

"Hmm" Dazai smirked before taking out a pin.

"So you could've escaped no matter what happens huh."

"Of course! And you're not here to give me a piece of mind aren't you?" He stated before Chūya halted and furrowed eyebrows.

"What the hell are you saying-" "You're here to get answers regarding (name) aren't you?"

"What are you on-"

"You want to know why she has a bracelet with my initials don't you?" He stood silent, and Dazai began explaining.

That was the last straw for Chūya. He barged into your office without a word with clenched fists.

"Chūya-san? What are you–" You stood up with widened eyes, but before you could say anything, he pulled you in for a tight embrace.

"Damn it! I love you okay?!" He pulled away, and turned to look at you with determined eyes. You stood still, not processing the words he said. The atmosphere became tense, he wondered if it really was right that he confessed to you, but before he would apologize and leave you blurted out something from shock.

"What. The. Fuck." You lightly slapped your cheeks and he sent you a worried look.

"Excuse me, can you say that again Chu?" The nickname made him blush but he complied nonetheless.

"I love you (name). I don't want to lose you to anybody else other than me. I want to make you the happiest woman and I-" He closed his eyes out of embarrassment but he quickly opened them as he felt your lips against his.

"If this is a dream I don't want it to end" You let out a breathless whisper.

That was the day that a love was formed. A few years passed since then. Dazai became the wingman to their relationship by planning it from the dungeon, and now it was their five year anniversary.

"Hey Chu sorry I'm late." You sat down across Chūya and he faintly smiled.

"It's fine doll. You look beautiful" He smirked before leaving his chair. His eyes fell to the bracelet that he gifted you four years ago. He unconsciously smiled, feeling proud of what he did back then. Now you were wearing a gift from him and not Dazai's, and that was enough to make him feel accomplished.

"oh. Thank you" You raised an eyebrow at what he was doing until he knelt and reached for his pocket.

"(name).. you are a blessing in my life that I thought I didn't deserve. Would you by wife and let me have the pleasure of having you in my life for the rest of my life?" He looked at you with glimmering ocean eyes.

"Chūya Nakahara.—" You said in an endearing tone.

"I feel at Cloud 9 with you, and I wish to spend my entire life with you beside me." You smiled at him before he put the ring in your finger and hugged you in a tight embrace after he kissed you.

He buried his head into the crook of your neck before whispering something that made your heart falter, "I love you—"

"I love you more" You kissed his collarbone before he pulled away and kissed the back of your hand.

"—and I will always continue to love you"

A/n: I am very sorry if that took a wrong turn... I'm currently bedridden right now so this took a long time to make.

[siyelius]

I wanna hear your headcanons about Josh and dynamic he has with Markus

oh shoot I love that guy he’s so underrated. I love how bold and unapologetic he is of his opinons. This’ll be long so I’ll try and section it off:

if you’ve got any you’d like to add I’d love to discuss !!

- his arms seem clean by the time his intro comes around, so given his backstory of having been beaten by drunk college students I’d assumed by then he’d have replaced or healed from most physical damages. then again, I still hc his torso endowed with soldered bullet wounds and plasticine chassis slightly warped from the heat caused by explosives in BfD.

- his baseline for his opinions stems from his past occupation as a professor. He was built to be a walking textbook, he’d be most knowledgeable on civil rights protests and how minority groups reacted to oppression as it was literally ingrained in him from creation. His insistence of refraining from human casualties and making a stand even if it meant the death of many androids is a mirror image of how various peaceful protests throughout history were carried through.

- due to his strong voice, he probably oversees the wing of jericho relating to intel and underground recruitment. he’s able to broadcast on a mass scale (projecting functions / specialized hardware) and is responsible for relaying hidden messages to guide deviants safely into jericho through methods invisible to the naked human eye. he’s quite talkative, so he fills in the goal of jericho to deviants markus may have freshly converted. like a guide. (this is more speculation, but I’d like to think Jericho’s old symbol being a monkey’s wrench was his idea as it references the railroad.)

- josh probably finds comfort in knowing his words are genuinely heard by the people of jericho, compared to the ignoring and abuse he was victim to while instructing at college. the students saw his lectures as nothing more than a boring youtube video spoken verbally as a lazy excuse for an actual, human professor to not be teaching instead. In jericho, he’s seen as both a person and a superintendent, so he’s respected and listened to by other androids. and they recognize that josh’s information isn’t regurgitated from the internet, but of his own experiences and thoughts.

- relating to bonds, while north paired herself with markus constantly id say josh grew close with simon if not already been close previously. he acts as si’s voice quite a lot in Jericho’s chapter, and he wears a university sweater that may have been tied to josh. they were both paired off together on multiple occasions (Stratford, together in the cyberlife warehouse truck, and possible capital park team), so it’s safe to say they probably work well together.

// DYNAMIC WITH MARKUS

I truly believe it fluctuates depending on which Markus decision-wise. Peaceful Markus seems as the most favorable choice to win Josh’s full approval, but his respect and support are on two different fences to me as shown by the argument he can kick up at the beginning of Crossroads. he supports Markus’ choices, but he doesn’t necessarily approve of them. He doesn’t like the deaths of unaffiliated humans, or any who were caught in the crossfire of their missions and he’s not afraid to voice his strong opinions on those matters. yes josh will kill and harm humans, but only if they’re directly involved with their cause and in the moment (ex. the armed forces he’s shot at in both Stratford and fought in freedom march in self-defense).

He clashes with Markus, but I believe it’s out of respect and as an attempt to display his thoughts on the matter. It does no good to blindly follow a leader if you believe their methods are flawed / in need of calling out. and Josh does just that. he also clashes with north quite often, and simon too. no one is safe from josh’s opposition. It just shows that markus has just a chance as any to hear Josh’s words, because what good is improvement if not begun with criticism? It’s why I love josh and some hate him, what others see as him being annoying I see as a necessity both gameplay-wise and in terms of their personalities. Yes his logic is flawed. But so is north’s and Simon’s. All three are from different backgrounds and have different reasonings for how they view humans. If josh believes something is wrong you’re damn right he’s gonna say something. That’s why he’s awesome.

[1989stanz]

Nash proposing to Libby

Hey, guess what? I wrote another fic. Why? Because I have no job.

Disclaimer:

Mentions of Nash Hawthorne, Libby Grambs and Alisa Ortega. Minor cursing.

English is not my first language. I'm sorry if there's any mistakes.

Word count: 9K (IT'S LIKE THE SHORTEST I CAN, OK?!)

While growing up, all Nash craved and dreamed of—whole heartily, soul consuming and passionately— was his grandfather approval. He just wanted to know that he did enough, that he was enough. All the old man lessons he kept in mind, so he would not make any mistakes the next time. Be perfect. Better. Stronger. That's what Tobias always praised. But it didn't take long for him to discover who his grandfather, the man he admired, was. And after that, how could he learn about what being extraordinary really meant from a man who was worse than the devil? The respect slowly started to go away, giving room for the need to stay away from. From his money. His house. His horrific lessons that Nash memorized, who seemed to age like milk in his brain, leaving the dreadful spoiled smell behind. Eventually, he just put in his head that his lectures were full of bullshit that he did not need. But he knew, deep in his soul and heart, that he would never forget one, no matter how much time passed by. It just didn't go away.

5 years later

Nash was 22 years old, and he just came home from a long trip around the country. He tried working at different jobs, since he wouldn't use his grandfather money to keep him alive and under a roof. Tried being a mechanic, because he understood a lot of cars and motorcycles. Chef, since he knew a thing or two about cooking. Worked at Target for a long period, for the reason that he simply liked his costumers. Makeup artist, 'cause why not? At the time, he found it more enthusiastic to work as a bartender, serving all kind of drinks and listening to people's stories. However, he usually had a hard time trying to get a job, since he even refused to use his real last name and had to use a fake ID. Fortunately, he knew how to convince someone that his name really was Nash Ortega. Maybe he could change after his marriage with Alisa. Sure, she was having a bad time accepting the fact that he wanted her to move on from his grandfather and get others clients, but she probably would give in. She loved Nash and already said that she wanted to have a life with him, so there was a high chance that they would make it through. Of course they would. Just because it was a minor argument, that didn't mean they wouldn't work out as a marriage couple. They would, and Nash was more than pleased to state that he couldn't wait any longer to runaway from the billionaire with the love of his life, Alisa. The woman he could only think 24/7. The one he always saw first in the mornings. The one and only he thought about having a family with. His heart pounded faster and harder just at the thought of his new life with his incredible wife. In fact, it beat so fast that it was the only thing he could hear at the quiet tree house. He took a moment to analyze it better. The Hawthornes were know for being magnificent when it came to luxury, always having really expensive and glorious things. Their own house and the others old man's properties were an example of it. But the tree house was out of curve, without anything really rich and embellished. It was like a normal tree house, the magic was on the memories. That's when Nash heard footsteps behind him, too fragile and languidness to belong to any of his brothers. Without turning around, he felt a light but firm hand on his shoulder. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”, the old man asked, and Nash couldn't keep himself from feeling a really pure disgusting feeling of his grandfather. Of everything that he had done. Yet, the Nash that once saw him as a father felt love. “It could be yours, all yours, if you choose to stay with Alisa.” His grandson threw his head back, laughing really hard. “Trying to manipulate me again, Tobias?”, he emphasized his name. No “grandfather” or “old man” for him today. The devil stood still, not appearing offended by his word or apologizing to his grandson. But the secret was that he would never say sorry to any of them—ever. He would die before it. “You're consistent, Nash,” he replied. “Resisting even when I offer you everything. That's what I love about you.” Nash snorted, “We both know that it isn't going to be me.” Tobias looked at Nash's eyes, his expression never giving a hint about his thoughts.

“Maybe you really aren't. But who cares? You decided years and years ago that you hated everything that was related to me, and you've been running away from me since them. And you have the audacity to say in front of my face that I'm manipulating you!”. The old man smiled, amused. “You took a decision years ago and stood with it, without any hesitation.”, he looked at Nash. “That's what you should do if you want to help people. I know you don't want my money, but don't hesitate, Nash. Never hesitate when making decisions to save someone. Be consistent, hard to deal with hesitation.”, he looked away. “If you don't be, the consequences can destroy you completely.” Nash felt like the old man was talking about his own experiences in life, but he didn't give a damn at the time. Or at least pretended to. He wasn't really good at pretending, if everything always came back to haunt him.

——————————————————————————

Looking at the ring he just bought to Libby, this memory came back. Nash wasn't made for hesitation. He always thought about the right decision to make, and he stood with his decision no matter what. It was hard to change his mind. When he broke free from the old man, he was confident about it. When it came to his brothers, he was sure about every single decision. Even when he proposed to Alisa, he was more than certain about it. Of course, he was ignorant enough to think that Alisa would give up on the old man. She didn't, and it was terrifying to think about the things that Tobias did. The things he took away from Nash. But this time he wasn't there, which meant that he couldn't take Libby away. He was hers and this would never change. He was sure about everything that was about her, so why he got so nervous and insecure just by looking at the ring? Probably because he didn't know if she wanted it too. Libby loved Nash, but what if it was too early to take this step? What if it was the wrong kind of ring? What if the place wasn't adequate? And the most horrendous question: what if she wanted it, but not with him? There were so many doubts, and he didn't like to be so. . . Scared. That's it, Libby managed to get him scared. And unsure. But that's what he would find in a marriage life. Sometimes, being married isn't a straight road, and it's definitely not easy and secure. It was more like being in a road full of multiple turns and confused, mysterious and even scary streets. But once the streets are crossed, the rest is lovely. Not easy, but worth it. And Nash was ready for it.

Libby spent her entire life in Connecticut, and now that she had money and a food truck business, she wanted to travel to places that once were only part of an unreachable dream. Like Paris. Nash had the idea, and he planned everything for the two of them: booked a hotel, searched for restaurants that made her favorite foods, localized the most famous places that sold flowers—just in case— and he had every single day planned. Well, at least the second day had to strictly follow the plan.

They arrived late at night in Paris, Nash still feeling terrible from the flight, ate dinner and slept. Nash woke up at 5:00 am, anxiety not letting him sleep for long, and they left at 7:00 am.

The Eiffel Tower. Notre Dame. Palais Garnier. Louvre Museum. Champs-Élysées. Nash took her to visit all these places, loving to see the admiration in her face. He has been to Paris before, therefore there wasn't anything he hasn't seen—at least at the most famous locations. Even though he did not like expensive places, he really wanted to give this experience to Libby before proposing. And by the end of the day, they were exhausted. It was impossible to feel his toes, but he had to ask the important question to her. They were standing on a cliff, staring at the Eiffel Tower—which was pretty, he had to admit. “Nash, why did you randomly take me to Paris?” Libby asked, and he froze, unable to even look at her. But she glanced at him. “I know you would eventually take me to travel, but why right now?”

He gathered himself, his heart pounding fast. “I love you, Libby. You deserve to have a day like this one every day for the rest of your life”, he picked her chin, looking in her eyes. “But I brought you here today because I wanted to ask you something.” He dropped her chin, searching for the ring on his pocket. “You saved me in so many ways, Libby. You fixed what I thought could never be fixed. You loved me for what I am, and I want to be with you until I die. So,” he picked the box, “I really want to know.” Opening it carefully, he revealed the ring. If he wasn't shaking, sweating and so god-damn nervous, he would've noticed Libby's shy smile and her hands shaking. She was blushing, like him. Kneeling, he asked, “Lib, will you marry me?” Her smile grew more and more, happiness dominating her completely. She shook her head and said out loud, “Yes, Nash. I'll marry you. I love you so much.” Lib managed to say the last part with a quavering voice, tears falling down her cheeks. He got up from the ground, and she hugged him really tight, both with bright smiles. Nash kissed her like his life depended on it, like he was made for it and for nothing else, a soft and lovely kiss. His lips held an unspoken promise: “I will fight for you, love you, and always choose you. I'm yours, and I'll do everything I can to make you happy.” And they stood there, kissing, with happy tears in their eyes.

[goldxnfemme]

Amy Warner Candela - For Charlie on the Eve of Our Wedding in The Femme Mystique edited by Leslea Newman

In honour of valentine's day this past week 💌

ID under read more

ID: Three parts of an essay from Amy Warner Candela - For Charlie on the Eve of Our Wedding in The Femme Mystique edited by Leslea Newman

The first part presents text.

The author is Amy Warner Candela.

The title is For Charlie on the Eve of Our Wedding.

The text continues and it reads:

October 22, 1993

"Tomorrow we are to be married, and I am confident that it will be the wedding I have always wanted.

Every detail of what will become the wedding is precisely what we want; nothing is out of place. I will be wearing the most beautiful dress and the most beautiful veil I have ever seen. You will look gorgeous in your tuxedo. The flowers are exactly right. The ceremony will be perfect, because we created it together. Our closest friends and most of our families will be with us, just as we have always wished. The music is what I picked out as a little girl. We have planned and prayed and organized and practiced and crossed our fingers for months now, and I know it will all be worth it.

What is the reason that this is everything that I have wanted? You. You are all that I want in a woman. In my mind's eye, the wife I pictured never had a face. Then you came along, and the blank was filled. That butch dyke is you!

You already know why I am marrying you: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to sleep with you every night and make your breakfast every morning. I love knowing that you'll be at home waiting for me after another very long day. I love knowing that every time I feel pleasure, it will be from your touch, your words, your heart. I love knowing that you always make me feel safe, you constantly protect me. I love know- ing that no matter how hard it gets for us, you and I will never abandon our commitment. I will love being your femme wife.

I have always known these things, even before you proposed and put that diamond on my finger. But I want our commitment to be blessed. I want to share our marriage with the people we love, and I want to show the world that I am proud to take your hand. This is why I want to share a last name with you.

Amidst all of the chaos of the last few days, I found time to think about what it will mean to be your wife. It is going to take a lot of patience, thought, and strength. I'm afraid we will always have to face troubles from our own community. We will always have to turn away from the stares of our"

The first part is on page 60 of the book.

Second part shows a picture of a woman in a wedding dress, veil and holding a bouquet of flowers. Text directly underneath the image reads: Amy Warner Candela - October 23, 1993.

(text continues from the other page) "so-called sisters. We will constantly need to defend ourselves. But I have never questioned that it will be worth it.

From the day we met, I knew that we were right together. I have never felt so comfortable, so completely free to be who I really am. From my core I am a femme. That spirit has always been there, repressed by androgynous pressure. You brought out the femme in me. Not only do you want it, but you cherish, honor, and respect it above all. I love you so much for that. I see the admiration in your eyes every day when I am dressed for work. I can see the joy and respect in your smile when we dance. I can feel your love and honor all over your body when we make love. I can hear the appreciation in your voice when you tell me how beautiful I look. And I sense your pride and adoration every time you defend me to the others. Thank you for nurturing and treasuring the femme that I am. I will do my best to do the same for the butch that you are."

The second part is on page 61 of the book.

Third part has text that reads:

"I know the anguish that you have experienced as a butch. I cry for the pain that people have inflicted upon you. I try to dispel your fears of the simplest things: a certain touch, a trip to the ladies' room, a doctor's office visit. I wish I could erase the malevolence for you, just as you constantly comfort me. My sorrows have been different yet the same. I never fit in with the crowd. Assumptions are made about me every day, and expectations of me are great. I must sustain my inner strength; not just as a lesbian, but as a femme. I never knew that being a femme would be so much harder than being queer. We are both gender-benders: you challenge the straight community while I challenge the lesbians. We are both cross-dressers: you wear men's clothing, I refuse to even attempt the lesbian androgynous status quo. I am convinced this is why we are so perfect together: we comfort, and complement, and contrast all at the same time.

We must continue to defy the expectations of us. We can draw upon each other when we need to stand tall against pressure from the community in which we first found our strength and reassurance. Our wedding is a challenge to that community. How many times have we heard, "Are you both wearing dresses or tuxedos?" It's ironic that lesbians asked this question most often, and that we must explain and defend our freedom to the people who claim to fight for it.

Despite the obstacles, I come to you with love, with faith, and with the promise to give you all that is me.

(signed) Amy Warner Candela"

Third part is on page 62 of the book.

End ID

[neuroticboyfriend]

idk if you want other experiences about cannabis? So feel free to ignore!

But it is our go-to and helps our psychosis and schizo stuff more than anything else. (Antipsychotics had no effect on my psychosis.) Weed helps me so much both with reducing the amount of delusions and their severity. It also makes me care way, way, way less (same for my social anxiety and phobias and physical pain). It also just reduces my stress which reduces my hallucinations and delusions. I don't think it specifically reduces visual or auditory hallucinations much for me outside of that but it does make me not care about them. [And note: if I get *really really really high* (like taking double my tolerance in edibles or something) it can make my psychosis worse but still in a way where I'm less distressed by it and don't need to act on it, so like, still a win?]

I had fully developed schizoaffective for years before I tried cannabis, and stayed away from it for a long time, for the same reason as you. So totally up to you, and I respect your decision either way! (Not that my input matters lol but just reaffirming it's your right to choose!] and I definitely would try it with someone I trust the first time, and not use very much.

But i know quite a few psychotic people who really benefit from cannabis. And I know a couple who aren't psychotic in regular life but get paranoid on weed. So like. It depends! It's not for everyone but it can really help some people. My partner and i are both much saner on cannabis. But it's up to you if you want to try it or not! Feel free to message if you ever wanna talk about it or have questions. <3

I'm sorry things are hard, have another baby Julian (he's growing up so fast sob emoji 😭 )

ID: a five week old dilute orange kitten. He has white on his chest and big ears and is sitting among a bunch of toys, and half sitting in a coiled spring toy

That's honestly really good to know. I thought there was no chance someone like me could ever use weed, but maybe there is hope. I cant be normal about substances, but maybe I cant get a medical marijuana card.

I'm trying to see substances as a means to an end, instead of moralizing them and feeling like I'm doomed because I use them. Yeah, I definitely am on a downwards trend but, harm reduction. That's what helps me most, and weed is a lot safer than narcotics and alcohol.

Also so happy to see kitten Julian growing up!! honestly the fact you link me to him even tho we dont know each other in person or talk privately a lot is :') it warms my heart. Thank you friend, I always love hearing from you - your experiences and insight are always helpful.

[silverstonesainz]

to me frat!lando is very best friend to lovers coded and after hearing ‘you are in love’ tv i can’t stop thinking about frat!lando and reader who went to high school together. who ended up at the same college. who have stuck through thick and thin.

lando invites reader to all his frat events bc if he ain’t getting with a girl at least he’ll have his best friend to keep him company. he always runs through new mixes and sets for her first. his eyes always spot her no matter where she is in a crowd and he convinces himself it’s because they’re just such good friends who’ve known each other for so long. anytime anything happens she’s the first he tells. no one bats an eye whenever she’s around the frat bc everyone just knows ‘she’s with lando’ even if he does have a girl he’s hooking up with at the time. bc everyone knows that there’s nothing romantic between the two of them.

until that one day. that one night after a party where lando and reader are tipsy. giggling together as they chill outside, heads resting on each other. lando starts to notice the small details, really notice them. they’re not just her routine, they’re her. the perfume she uses at an event as opposed to every day. the way her makeup has slightly changed to fit the vibes of the party. which rings she always wears and which ones she changes. the necklace hanging from her neck he bought when they were still teens. the way she shivers at the slightest breeze. how her voice sounds when she’s tipsy. how she’s a lot more affectionate after a couple drinks.

he starts to really notice her and once he starts he can’t stop. he can’t stop but look at her, really look at her now. when did her beauty start making his breath hitch? when did her laugh start to sound like his favourite song? when did her touch burn like a fire within him he’s never felt before? when did her entire being become so consuming that he can’t breathe, he can’t think, he can’t even stand when she’s around. can’t sleep without her plaguing his dreams.

when did he start seeing her face in all the past girls he got with. when did he start noticing their mannerism were mirrors of hers. when did he start to notice that all this time he’s been chasing what has always been stood next to him. when did he realise all this time he was deeply in love with his best friend.

(sorry this was so fucking long and probs not what you imagine frat!lando to be but i just went on a tangent and had to get my thoughts out)

god nonnie why did this make me tear up?? im soooo in my lando era rn and this. THIS.

honestly frat!lando could go in so many directions, i think it just depends on the girl. like he's a whore and can be arguably one of the worst people you encounter in the frat. BUT when we consider girl best friend, this is so him coded. i think like you go it all so spot on i dont think i have anything to add???

also having that relationship with a fraternity? where they don't question your presence at the house/at events/etc?? its so sacred bc i had tht relationship (and id like to think i still do to a certain degree). theres just a different level of respect fr.

[quodekash]

PART 2 OF DANGEROUS ROMANCE EP4 COMMENTARY BC I HAVE TOO MANY THOUGHTS AND RAN OUT OF SCREENSHOTS

because of them, im now gonna start sobbing every time someone throws a peace sign at me

HELL YES

IM SO PROUD OF MY BOY

YUOU DID SO GOOD KANG

I KNEW YPU COULD DO IT

AIUOGHKJERPODHFKN

NOOOOOOO

FRICK

my boy is having many thoughts. none of them good.

I can hear his crisis and him blaming himself because now he thinks it's his fault that sailom's gonna get beat up, and he's sad for himself that he doesn't have a reason to spend time with sailom anymore, and now his grandma's gonna be disappointed in him for failing something, and there's definitely some thoughts in the mix there about his dad and the bike he bought him and kang is so certain he doesn't deserve the bike, I could go on but I wont because I would like to finish this episode before the sun rises and currently that doesnt seem all too likely

well DUH

YOU COULD SEE IT FROM MARS (and now im thinking about soundwin. frick.)

tell him

tellllll himmmmmm

tell him he lent the umbrella to youuuuu

and you've treasured it forever perhaps?

OMG HE'S TELLING HIM???

DUDE THEYRE ACTUALLY LISTENING TO ME SO MUCH THIS EPISODE THIS IS SO RARE

chances are either the bus or Kang's car is gonna show up before he'll get it out, bUT ONCE AGAIN, LET ME BASK IN THIS RARE MOMENT OF GLORY AND POWER

BOOM

CALLED IT

I know it's super cliche and everyone probably saw that coming but I dont care, im gonna let myself feel almighty powerful

I just. I will never understand why they dont just like quickly tell the person before leaving. or like yell at him while getting on the bus. OR EVEN text him while on the bus, immediately after getting on. that's what id do, cos if I dont tell them right then and there, I guarantee you I will forget to ever tell them, and then it'll keep me up at night for ages but never at a moment where I actually think about telling them, and then three or four years later ill finally tell them and it'll be so insignificant by then but it doesnt matter because I FINALLY TOLD THEM THE THING

I really hope he remembers to give at least one of those umbrellas back to kang

mans is not waterproof, he needs an umbrella

respect for auto just went down down prices are down

crypto? seriously honey?

IT'S SO CHEESY

IT'S SO CLICHE

AND IM CRYING ABOUT IT BECAUSE SOMEHOW I BOTH IRONICALLY AND UNIRONICALLY LOVE CHEESY AND CLICHE MOMENTS WITH ALL MY FRIKIN SOUL

EW

SPORTS

I hate sports days so much

thankfully id always be allowed to just not go to school instead of being forced to participate in athletics and swimming carnivals and cross country and stuff, and I will be forever grateful to my parents for that

they're in love btw

just in case anyone forgot

I didn't forget

I can't forget about them

my brain wont allow it

IT'S JUST

ITS JUST SO SWEET

I THINK IM GOING INSANE, THEY HATE EACH OTHER AND WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER SO BADLY THAT IT'S LITERALLY ROMANTIC

THIS IS PINING

HE IS PINING

PL E A SE CAN THEY KISS

NAWA'S HEAD TILT????? LIKE THEYRE LITERALLY ABOUT TO KISS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU

two things to say here

one: view, please marry me

two: kang and sailom definitely have the same responsibilities

just KISS

I can't deal with the longing stares anymore

im like 80% certain they wont kiss this episode but I so badly want them to

NOOOO THEYRE NOT IN THE SAME GROUP THINGY

....but (hehe butt)

...maybe

...perhaps

I think kang might pull some strings to end up in the same department as sailom? maybe??

IM DYING, THERE'S A MARC AND A PAVIN (which sounded like pawin)

THEY GAVE UP THINKING OF NAMES FOR THE RANDOM CLASSMATES

ooooo he is listening to their conversationnnnnn

AND THEYRE GONNA INTERACT IN A FRIKIN BATHROOM??? I SWEAR, EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW IS SOUNDWIN CODED, IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU

5ER6CYVTGUOBHIOVTRC6DE5S4E57RCVYUBHUVTRDS3GTFD46F7GY8H

I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY

THEYRE JUST SO

HE'S SO GOUERGJND

LMAO YOU IDIOT

(we're getting so many cheesy cliches right after each other and I am so here for it, I love this so much)

now kiss

OH

OH THIS IS THIS PART???? DAMN

he needs money to pay off his debts, so... he's gonna take a job offer from the guy he pays his debts to? feels kinda pointless, right?

also in this series, pepper reminds me of tor, specifically in midnight museum, so part of my mind thinks hes gonna offer him a job at the museum

LMAO

'MYNAME6969'

I WANT TO KNOW WHO PUT THAT IN THERE AND GIVE THEM A HIGH FIVE BECAUSE THATS FRIKIN HILARIOUS, WHOEVER SNUCK THAT IN THERE

IM DYING I LOVE THAT SO MUCH

as someone who sprained an ankle a little over a month ago, I have some points to make

namely: saifah is right. the first 72 hours are the most important, as long as you're resting it, keeping it elevated, icing it, compressing it, you'll be all good to walk on it in no time. after that, you need to make sure you're still taking care of it, like by wearing a compression sock all the time, and not walking on it too much if it starts hurting, stuff like that. that's the part I didnt do. I took care of it for three days, then kept walking on it like nothing happened, and it's still really painful sometimes, it never properly healed, but like it's fine im surviving

OH I DO NOT LIKE THIS, I DO NOT LIKE THIS AT ALL

HE'S SO OLD

ICKY I FEEL ICKY

there's nothing wrong with the work he's doing, it's just the fact that he's still a kid and thats a 50 year old man

on another note, I ran out of bloody images AGAIN

AND ON ANOTHER NOTE, ITS NEARLY 2AM. IVE BEEN WATCHING FOR NEARLY 2 AND A HALF HOURS AND IM NOT EVEN THREE QUARTERS THROUGH THE EPISODE, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME

[olkarrion]

hey i saw the post about tics and i am a minor so im not gonna follow or anything but i did want to leave a little message. u dont have to answer if u dont want to!

im gonna be honest. i dont know where the fuck my own tics came from. they just kinda.. slowly developed. i dont know if that's normal. but they havent.. gone away. for a long time i was scared i was somehow faking it. i dont.. know why id be faking it. like they're annoying LOL. its taken a lot of time for me to come to terms with the fact that i just.. have tics. and theyre real. and there's nothing "wrong" about me.

like i dont owe anyone an explanation, yk?? thats none of their business.

but yeah, i experience simple motor tics. theyre mostly in my back and neck and shoulders. i also have premonitory sensations/urges/whatever the word is

ive had people ask me about them. i dont mind that much as long as they treat me the same after too. god i hate when they give me the pity look!!

but yeah. that's my story. i know its not anything all that special. but it means a lot to me to just. idk. know there's other people out there and to hear their experiences. i hope you have a nice day / night :]

First off, I wanted to say thank you for sending this anon, and for respecting my boundaries.

Secondly, I wanted to thank you for telling me your story. It's special to me that there are people out there that my own stories and experiences might help.

The first time I ever noticed I was ticcing I was 6 years old. My mom had pointed out I'd been widening my eyes and rolling them without me noticing. On the way to the doctor I remember secretly hoping to myself I had tics, thinking they were something that made me "special".

When I was in 3rd or 4th grade, I made the decision to stand up in front of my class and explain to everyone what tics were, and why I was rolling my eyes and flexing my hands all the time.

In middle school, my tics got so bad that I couldn't hold a pencil or even feed myself properly because they were so bad. I was openly mocked, belittled, and abused for my disorder. I was hit, called slurs, pushed down the stairs, and more. My father, who thought I was faking, told me that "bullying builds character" when I told him.

I left school 2 weeks before the year ended. The next year, I broke my leg bending down to pick up a sock, crippling me for life. I felt worthless, and defeated. I gave up on myself completely.

In highschool, I stood up in the middle of class to tell a boy to "shut the fuck up" because he was pretending to tic like I did. The entire class went silent. I sat down, turned to the teacher, and told her to continue. I was never repremanded.

When my tics were loud during class, I told people to turn the fuck around and pay attention.

When strangers stare in public, I meet their eyes until they look away.

At 21, I have people my age telling me that my story matters to them. Having tics can suck. But they are your tics, and this is your life.

You are completely fucking right, there is nothing wrong with you. I hope you never surpress your tics in public. I hope you show up to every movie theater and quiet classroom with a head raised high. I hope everyone with tics learns to love themselves the way that they deserve. I hope able bodied people learn to mind their own fucking business for once.

[magnetothemagnificent]

do you have any feelings or opinions about modern diasporism or doikayt?

i wish i could wrap my mind around it, but i just have this strong strong gut feeling that (especially due to christian hegemony in the west, but also other things) we can't expect some harmonious relationship with our neighbors to form, or for them to accept us when we are non-assimilated. this isn't a "and this is why we need israel!" statement by omission, but a genuine confusion with the diasporist argument. id love to hear your or anyone else's opinions or thoughts.

Personally, I don't like it. I think the diasporist movement is very Ashke-centric and relies on the romanticized ideal of the Shtetl. There was never ever a time in history when Jews were fully safe and accepted in the diaspora. Jews in the Shtetl faced pogroms and exiles and legal restrictions. Jews around the world faced various oppressive laws and massacres in all the many different empires and regions through time. I've been researching my family's genealogy for a few years now. My ancestors never stayed in one place for more than a generation or two because they were constantly chased across Europe and the SWANA region. There is no one village or region my family is from. It also relies on the fact that there is a universal diasporic experience, which there isn't. It also plays into really harmful tropes of respectibility politics, like, "oh if we just act a certain way, the rest of the world will accept us", when it's just not the case. Time and time again we see that antisemites don't care what kind of a Jew you are: Zionist and anti-Zionist, assimilated and non-assimilated, religious and atheist, practicing and non-practicing; we're all the same to antisemites. Instead of trying to get the world to accept us, we need to build better solidarity between our own communities. There is so much lateral animosity between different Jewish communities, and it's horrible. We need to better practice Ahavat Yisrael instead of trying to please the goyish world which will never be fully pleased. We need to instead stand united with our Jewish family, even if we disagree with them, because we are stronger together and we can't rely on the goyim to help us. And another thing the diasporist movement reminds me of is how during the rise of Nazism, it was the Eastern European Jewish immigrants in Germany who first sounded the alarm, but the German Jews who had been established there for a long time who at first doubted how bad it could be, because they fought for Germany in WWI and because they were such model citizens. But the fact is....it doesn't matter how much of a model citizen you are, antisemites don't care. And honestly trying to change ourselves to get the world to accept us is ultimately fruitless- they won't accept us unless they change. We don't have to and shouldn't have to change ourselves for them.

[satrs]

ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ - ɪᴢᴀɴᴀ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴋᴀᴡᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ °3

Warnings:  cursing?, violence

"Madam l/n?"

Your eyebrows knit together as you hear your name in your sleep. "Madam l/n, we've reached the destination", the chauffeur said in a soothing manner.

Slowly, your eyes flutter open, slowly ajusting your sight to the area around you. "There is no need to rush, madam. Take your time please. I will take your luggage and bring it into the house. Is that alright with you madam?"

He questions, only getting a tired nod in response, "do you need help to get up? Perhaps, should I carry you?", he asked with a tint of concern in his voice.

Turning towards him, you shake your head, "No it's alright, just had to take a quick nap", you respond, getting out of the car the young man held open for you the whole time.

You take one last glance on your phone, hoping to see a missed call, if not then a message from Izana. But nothing. Sighing to yourself, you took out the keys of the vacation house, nd opening the door.

As you stepped in, and got out of your shoes, old memories flowded your mind, all the shared moments you and Izana have made here. Good ones, funny ones, romantic ones, and much more except for one: Sad memories. Back then, you never would've imagined nor belived in what situation you are right now.

The last time you and Izana made a vacation here, just the two of you was at least two years ago. Back then, you barely had an argument with him, nor did he or you passed one day without showing each other your love.

"It's a beautiful place. Isolated from the city high in the mountains, with a beautiful view to a forest", the voice of the young chuffeur broke you out of your thoughts, making you turn around to look at him.

He had already brought your luggage with him, politely standing at the doorstep, not thinking about entering the estate. "Why don't you come in? It's quite cold outside, you want some tea? I can make you some", you asked him, feeling bad just letting him stand there.

"N-no it's alright madam but thank you for the invite. My only order was to bring you here", he replied with a small smile adoring his features. Accepting his choice, a question still clouded your mind, "Alright then. Oh I was meaning to ask, are you new here? I've never saw you before", you asked, the curiosity getting the best of you.

His body turned tense as he replied, "yes I am madam l/n", you responded with a smile adoring your features, "You're doing a great job. I will put in a good word for you", you winked at him, making his eyes widen.

"T-thank you very much madam. I will do my best", he bowed down slightly, showing his respect. "Very well then. I wish you a good night", you say, smiling again.

"Thank you. I wish you a pleasant rest of the night", and with that, he turned around, closing the door behind him.

Not wanting to pack out your luggage because you were exhausted, you decided to walk up the wide and massive wooden stairs into one of the many bedrooms, to make the bed ready for you to sleep on, only for you to find it perfectly done.

"Thank god I'm so tired", you mumble to yourself. You put down your coat into one of the chairs standing in the corner of the room, and brought yourself back to the bed in slow steps, laying down on it. As you were about to close your eyes, the ringing of your phone on the nightstand made you jump up.

Reaching for your phone, you imediantly picked up as you saw the caller id. "I-Izana?", you asked right after you brought the little device to your ear. You were met with silence for a moment, then a familiar voice was heared from the other end.

"Are you at the estate?", Izanas cold and halfhearted voice met your ears. Your heart started racing, your lips curled into a bright smile and your vison slowly started to get blurry due to the tears forming in your eyes.

How long was it? The last time you heared his voice? It didn't matter that his voice sounded cold towards you. Or to be exact, you didn't really notice. You heared your lovers voice after what seemed like months, so of course you are filled with joy.

"Oh my god. Babe I miss you so much when-", "I asked you a fucking question", he snaped at you."Are you at the estate?"

Bitting your lips to contain your tears, you answer, "yes but why did you tell me to move out? Are you", your heart aching at the words your're about to say, "breaking up with me?"

Ignoring your questions and concerned voice, he only replied in a harsh voice. "Good. I'll be there soon and explain. Maybe. If nothing comes up."

Before you could response, the line was cut by the sound long beeping that symbolizes the end of the call. "He seemed to be in a hurry. I hope everything is ok", you say to yourself, still nibbling on your bottom lip to out auf concern.

As many times as you tried, you couldn't fall asleep after the short call you had with Izana. To excited to might see him again and desperately wanting his todays actions explained. Well perferably, his whole behaviour from the past weeks. But one step at a time.

You were sitting at the table with a coffee in your hands, holding it close to your mouth to take another sip from it. Your rigt leg was continously tapping at the floor, while you were staring at the wall, eyes not being able to look away from that one spot, the clock already passed 3 am.

Suddenly, your ears pearked up at the sound of the front door creaking. Quickly turning your head to the door, you jump up to your feet, almost sprinting at the figure appearing infront of you.

You threw your arms over his neck, tears rolling down your face, " 'zana I- god. Why didn't you at least call me once?! I was so worried."

No matter what reaction you showed or what words you said, his posture didn't change in the slightest. Instead, he harshly shoved you off of him, "Get the fuck off of me.", he gave you an irritaded look, making your eyes widen and your tears of joy turned into tears of sadness.        "W-what..?"

Clicking his tongue, he spoke to you in a voice that made you shiver,

"Get your crybaby ass on the couch. We need to talk."

[greenlighted]

WIP WEDNESDAY

i started planning and writing little bits and pieces of a drarry wip last night while i was high after work, and i have no recollection of doing any of it.

but here's a snippet of it that i wrote that i think could be worth reworking a little bit !

i haven't written in so, so long so this is definitely very rough. its from dracos pov which im very out of practice in, but im thinking i want to commit to the fic in harrys pov. but, i do want to explore some of the scenes im thinking about for it from dracos pov so ill probably post a lot about that here or maybe in a separate work if i ever write this enough to post.

id love some cheerleading and opinions ! ♡

content under the cut ♡

all draco could hear for a moment were longbottoms loud snores before he felt harry shift against him slightly before whispering so softly draco almost couldn't hear him at all.

"i really have liked you for a long time."

draco stills at hearing the words a second time. he'd known that it was the truth as the first time he'd said it, harry was incapable of lying. yet, somehow, draco still couldn't quite believe him then. it seemed inconceivable that harry could ever like him when there were miles and miles between draco and the kind of person that was worthy of, that was deserving of, holding the attention of harry potter.

draco malfoy was not likeable. he'd even go as far as to say he was severely unlikeable. and harry potter? harry was so incredibly likeable, and extremely hard to dislike. draco would know, he'd been trying since he was eleven.

if there was one known fact of the universe that draco could comfortably rely on, one thing that had never failed to keep him grounded, it was the fact that harry potter did not like draco malfoy.

and then, suddenly, two months after the war had ended, harry potter was defending draco malfoy in court.

and then, suddenly, two weeks after harry had defended draco in court, he'd owled him his wand back.

and then, not nearly as suddenly, two days after harry had owled draco his wand back, draco had owled him back.

and then, perhaps inevitably, not a day had passed since that they hadn't spoken.

feet upon feets worth of parchment owled back and forth became sitting next to each other for meals in the great hall.

draco owling harry a birthday present became sitting entirely too close together on the couch in the empty eighth year common room swapping christmas presents.

it had snuck up on him, the realization that harry no longer disliked him. that he actually, somehow, liked him quite a bit. he'd known that to be fact as well, even without the help of a truth potion. harry potter had never been someone capable of masking his emotions, he had always worn his heart on his sleeve and draco respected him for it as much as he was terrified of him for it.

he could tell that harry liked him, in whatever way, in the way that he sought him out when granger and weasley got a little caught up in each other, in the way that he asked draco to have seekers matches with him and no longer got angry when draco inevitably started trying to cheat, the way that harry smiled and laughed around him with - with him, always, and never at him. he could tell in the moments where they stayed awake with each other in the common room, leaning against each other on the sofa in front of the fire, telling each other things they've never told anybody else.

draco malfoy had somehow, against all odds, made a best friend out of harry potter. if his father had a grave he'd be rolling in it.

"how long?" draco finally asks, hoping harry couldn't feel the rapid beating of his heart under his head.

"the whole time, probably," harry answers quietly, all but sighing the words into the bare skin of draco's neck. "not in the way that matters until maybe sixth year, though."

the thought of harry potter thinking that him liking draco malfoy in any way was anything less than extraordinary was almost laughable. draco malfoy had wanted harry potter to like him from the moment he'd learned who he was, long before he'd even gotten to meet him.

"you liking me in any way has always mattered," he whispers after a moment of hesitation, vulnerability and raw honesty had always felt uncomfortable to him.

[saetoru]

hi! im so incredibly sorry to bother you but i think you may have blocked one of my other blogs and i was wondering if i could ask why?

please don’t feel pressured to answer whatsoever and definitely feel free to ignore this, i really don’t want to trouble you in any way. i just wanted to know if i did anything wrong or something to offend you?

i really try my hardest to stay neutral and friendly as well as respecting and following everyone else’s blog rules so i’d really appreciate any feedback or insight if you’re happy to give it. whatever i did, once again, im so incredibly sorry to bother you, i don’t mean any harm at all, ever. if i did something to offend you, it was never intentional, all i really try to do on tumblr is rb pictures of cats most of the time anyways.

please don’t take this the wrong way, it just makes me super anxious that i might’ve done something to someone that may have hurt them or made them uncomfortable. i really loved your writing and your blog and i can’t apologise enough if i messed up or anything. of course, i totally understand that sometimes people just choose to block people for their own reasons and i respect that no matter what. i’m incredibly sorry if i encroached on your boundaries in any way, i just really held your writing close to my heart and it saddens me that i can’t view it anymore. but that isn’t your fault whatsoever. i respect you so much as a writer and a person and i just wanted to say that i’m really sorry if i did anything. i’m sorry tee.

okay bestie i can’t rly tell unless u share ur url tho 😭 but honestly sometimes ppl leave comments or tags that make me feel weird / annoy me — i’m human and sometimes i block over petty reasons (i’m working on it fjsjfj) but overall i like to think i block with decent cause so unless ur ageless, you’ve probably said something to slightly (or perhaps highly) irritate me or you may have spam liked ?? idrk unless i see ur url tbh. i mean if u send me ur url i won’t post it and if i can’t recall why ur blocked i might as well unblock (as long as ur age is present)

anyway if i block u i’m not saying everyone should come swarm me with “can i ask why” bc that would be annoying but sometimes writers are human and sometimes we block for dumb reasons and if you think perhaps you haven’t rly done anything worth blocking besides maybe me taking out a bad mood on a slightly accidentally annoying thing u did, i might just unblock if ur url doesn’t ring a bell in my mind for something memorably obnoxious. especially if u think it’s bc u didn’t have an age in ur bio before—some of u don’t know to do that till after and i get that !!—im happy to unblock if you’ve since then added an age. but again this isn’t an open invitation for all blocked blogs (id assume ur lurking if ur blocked and reading this LMAO) to come ask me why or for an unblock but sometimes if u rly believe you’ve been blocked by mistake or for a petty reason i’m willing to check is all i’ll say

anyway yeah if u see this send ur url—be mindful of any comments or tags u leave, sometimes u might be unintentionally a bit rude and that could be a big reason why !! also don’t spam like i rly rly hate that

edit: i appreciate the kind comments about my writing NFJSJF i thought i’d add that in bc ofc sharing writing is the main reason im here and hearing u enjoy it and such is nice to know. thank u for reading and thinking highly of it that’s rly sweet <3

[phightingconfessions]

ik this isnt a confession but i had sooo much more to say about magical girls but i knew that ask wouldve been a mile long if i said Anything (they've been my special interest like all of my life..)

but pls pls im a huge nerd abt magical girls id love to hear abt ur ocs 🥺🥺🥺🥺

-🕷️

I LOVE MAGICAL GIRLS!!!!!! its a very passive interest for me but oughh i love magical girls so much as a concept... theyre so silly ive been meaning to watch more mg animes....... sailor moon and madoka magica i will always love u

IF I WENT ON ABT MY OCS THIS POST WOULD BE A MILE LONGoh my god i can put stuff under the cut EVERYONE IGNORE THE CUT IF YOU DGAF ABOUT MAGICAL GIRLS

the general concept for the world is What If Magical Girls Worked For The Government bc i feel like that is such an interesting concept.. like magical girls being public knowledge...... i wanna clean up some of the world lore first everythings been a very heavy wip but the plan is for it to be a public community kinda thing... almost like how scp is a community made project.... people can make their own mgs and play with them like touys....

i wanna flesh out the floaty guys and the worms more bc theyre the weakest point of this whole oc-verse but i havent had the brainpower to do so yet.... this world is almost 2 years old in december actually i forgot how long its been since i worked on this

to elaborate on the "by force" bit, one of my ocs (harvey kendall) literally woke up one day to attend classes and saw a mg charm on his desk and was like "ooohhh my god i just wanna finish out my major. why me of all people." bro thought being a magical girl was for one day!! he mad!!!!

heres some of the general most common groups and random lore bits for them, blood moon corp is still being thought over in my head bc i need to figure out more logistics for them

all of the groups are really neutral, the government will kill magical girls who arent actively working for them but still treat their employed magical girls with decent levels of respect and very good living situations, ssu is working towards a very good goal but theyre a bit too strict on how their magical girls can behave and have almost a puritan quality to them (most mgs that work for them arent THAT uppity, its most the senior mgs), rift is generally seen as the best option for rogues but they dont pay anything so its really a matter of if youre comfortable HAVING to work a day job and dropping it at a moments notice to go help out, blood moon corp is mostly normal outside of the using its dead members magic to resurrect an old mg (theyre also vaguely unwelcoming, most of them dont really like interacting with each other), rogue uncontracted offers genuinely no sort of support so its seen as the riskiest but you also dont have to adhere to any sort of rules or goals and can do whatever you want

and heres all of the current ocs :) (basil is mod rocket ive looped it into this universe by force)

soo!!! thats it!!!!!!! sorry for the lore dump i am so normal about my ocs im so normal im so [paces in a circle]

[1voided9thoughts9and4prayers]

This perilous life has taken a toll on my mental state. I find myself spending more time in my head than I do in reality; even catching myself staring off into nothing thinking not one thing. Derrepente snapping back, to wherever it is i am, to give myself the animo Id wish to hear from others. Although I don't depend on others to give me the hope, the clarification that everything is going to be okay is always uplifting. I appreciate those that didn't say much and really kept me in their thoughts and company. My love and respect for them will forever be held high on a mantel for they had no real reason to see how much I'm worth but actually value my personal being, and that alone is what has given me the faith to keep going forward regardless if I have to hurdle or a crawl. You better believe I'm breaking through it all. Those that only spoke on it, I think, they hoped it would register and resonate later on in situations like this only so they can know where I'm at when I would reach out so they can do nothing about it. Not to say it's out of cynical malice but subconsciously hoping that they know someone is doing worse than they are would in turn lift their spirits. Though they're that much closer to that climax of them doing great and I may be a little behind as long as we both get there is all that matters to me. I don't wish ill on anyone, not even on the ones others think deserve it. I can't relate, I won't the best even for my most disliked acquaintance, for I don't have anyone I'd consider a enemy. If anyone can take anything from this I hope it's that they spend their precious time valuing and embracing every experience life has for one another.

[scuttling]

Crush

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 3,349 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Crushes, Fluff and smut, Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Manhandling Summary: Hotch has had a crush on the new member of his team for as long as he can remember. He keeps his distance, but he knows everything about her—her favorite snacks, how she takes her coffee. They share a room on a case, and at first, he's nervous, but being around her is comfortable, and he longs for more. Is it possible she feels the same way about him? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below!

Aaron has a crush on the newest member of his team. There’s no use denying it, or trying to compartmentalize it and pretend it doesn’t exist; it’s inappropriate, irresponsible, and just plain stupid, but he can’t talk himself out of it no matter how hard he tries. He is completely infatuated with her, whether he likes it or not.

And he does like it, sometimes. Sometimes, she will catch his eye on the jet, or in the office, shoot him a soft smile, and his heart beats fast, his chest feels warm. He thinks, I might never get to be with her, but she does think of me, and that’s something, at least.

Sometimes, he hates it, especially times like these, when they’re all on the jet and Morgan is using every ounce of his charm and charisma, the easy smile he doesn’t think twice about flashing, to try to get her to go out on a date with him. She hasn’t accepted the offer yet, and he’s been trying for about five months, almost the entirety of her career at the BAU, but that doesn’t make Aaron feel any better.

He knows Morgan very well. He’ll convince her eventually, and even if it doesn’t go anywhere, he’ll think about the two of them together all the time and never be able to stop. It will take his (mostly) innocent crush to a darker place, a place of anger and jealousy he’s not proud of, but has no control over.

“I would take you on the most incredible date of your life, mama. Dinner, dancing, a moonlit stroll; we go out for a couple of drinks, maybe I'll try to steal a kiss...”

“Maybe I’ll punch you in the face...” she says with a smirk, but he knows flirting when he hears it, and her threat carries no weight. Morgan shrugs, grins.

“Maybe, but I can take a punch. You need a man, and I am fully prepared to be that man; one little love tap won’t stop me.” She raises her eyebrows, looks over at him with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, first thing’s first: I don't do love taps, I do right hooks, so don't tempt me. Second, I don’t need a man, I want a man, and not just any man will do. When I want something, I want something specific. If I want dessert—”

Cherry cheesecake, Aaron thinks. He’s seen her order it three times, is slightly obsessed with the sound she makes when she takes the first bite.

“—I want cherry cheesecake or nothing. Not chocolate, not strawberry. If I want a glass of wine—”

Pinot Grigio if she wants white, Merlot if she wants red—she almost never wants red.

“—I want Pinot Grigio or nothing. If I have to have red, I’ll order Merlot, but I won’t be happy about it. When we’re on a case and I can’t sleep, and I come out to stare at the vending machine for a midnight snack—”

She either gets peanut butter crackers, or barbeque chips. That’s an easy one. Morgan has to know that.

“—I’ll get barbeque chips, or peanut butter crackers, or nothing. I am uncompromising when it comes to the things I want. So, Derek Morgan,” she says with a smirk, and a bit of attitude; it only makes Morgan smile brighter, and Aaron refrains from rolling his eyes, “when I want a man, I want a specific type of man, and I won’t be worn down no matter how many times you ask me out.”

“And what specific type of man do you want?” he asks, crossing his arms. Everyone is paying attention to their conversation, even Aaron, though he tries to pretend he isn’t.

“Well for starters, a man. You’re acting like a guy right now, and I’m not interested in guys.” JJ says ooh, burn, and everyone laughs. “I want a man who knows who he is, even if who he is isn’t pleasing to everyone. I want a man who isn’t afraid to feel vulnerable, who can be tender, who doesn’t run from a situation just because it makes him emotional. I want a man who pays attention to me when it counts, not just when he wants something. I want a man who will respect my boundaries,” she says, a little pointed, “who will help me grow but not try to change me. Most importantly, I want a man who can handle me, and I don’t think you can handle me.”

Aaron blinks hard at that. He’s pretty certain he could handle her, absolutely wants to.

“Alright, I can’t argue with a woman who knows what she wants, and it’s obvious you know what you want,” Morgan says, palms up in surrender. “Let me know when you find the lucky guy—man—so I can warn him about you.”

“Baby, I am the warning,” she says with a wink, and Aaron shifts in his seat.

It’s going to be a long flight to California. When they get to the hotel, JJ hands out the room assignments as usual, and he’s very surprised when she hands her a key out of the envelope marked 313, and then does the same for him. JJ shrugs.

“They didn’t have any singles, I guess. We’re all doubled up.” The other woman adjusts her bag on her shoulder, looks up at him.

“Is that a problem? I promise I won’t disturb you,” she says with a smile, and he shakes his head and, hopefully, his nervousness.

“No, of course it’s not a problem. Thanks, JJ. Looks like we’re this way,” he says, guiding her down the hall.

Their room is a little cramped, but clean, and he takes the bed closest to the door, sets his bag on it. She walks past him, throws her bag on the other bed and puts her hands on her hips, stares down at the ground. It takes him a moment to understand why.

“We could probably move your nightstand against the wall, share the one in the middle.” She looks up, confused, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You need room to lay down your yoga blanket, right? I know you’ve mentioned before that it helps put you to sleep when we’re traveling.” A brilliant smile curves across her face.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was trying to figure out. Thanks.” He moves to help her, but she lifts the table easily, tucks it in the corner between the desk and the lamp. She rolls out her blanket, pulls an outfit out of her bag. “I’m just going to get changed, and then the bathroom is all yours; I’ll be out of your hair.”

“It’s no trouble,” he says, and he means it; she just nods and smiles again, ducks into the bathroom to change her clothes.

Her outfit is… it’s tight, for lack of a better description, a strappy sports bra and patterned leggings; she does a lot of bending, and stretching, and balancing, her body strong and sleek. He tries to go about his business, but he can’t stop looking.

Once he’s finally able to convince himself to look away, lest she get suspicious of his inactivity, he changes his clothes, takes off his watch and sets it beside his gun, badge, and phone on his side of the nightstand. He pulls out his tablet to get caught up on the news, and it’s actually kind of comforting, the soft hum of her breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

He doesn’t realize she’s finished until she walks around between the beds, grabs her badge off the nightstand and slides her credit card out from behind her photo ID. “Heading to the vending machine; need anything?” she asks, and he shakes his head—he already brushed his teeth—earning one of her soft smiles.

She grabs her key, slips out the door, and returns a few minutes later with a pack of peanut butter crackers and a bag of peanut M&Ms—his guilty pleasure. She tosses them onto the bed beside him, and her lips twitch, and she strolls into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

He eats his M&Ms and does not imagine what she looks like wet.

Ultimately, he’s happy she was so thoughtful to bring him a snack, but that does mean he needs to brush his teeth again. The bathroom door is open, steam wafting out, so he figures it’s safe to enter while she finishes getting ready for bed. She’s standing at one of the double sinks, wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, brushing her teeth, and he steps up beside her and prepares to do the same.

It’s pleasant, companionable, the familiar sounds of scrape-scrub-spit, and then she washes her face with some foamy, herbal scented concoction he couldn’t begin to identify. He washes his with soap and a little hot water, and she cringes; he frowns.

“What is it?” he asks, toweling off. She hesitates a moment, then flicks open a blue bottle, squeezes a bit of cream into her hands, and lifts them toward his face, pausing with a question in her eyes. He swallows, but leans in closer, and she rubs it over his cheeks, his chin, his forehead.

“Soap like that isn’t good for your skin, not even for guys, and I figured you don’t moisturize. This stuff is unisex, and it will keep you looking young and fresh and handsome; you can have this one, I’ve got more.” She pulls back, washes her hands, and he’s left kind of dazed, longs for the feel of her hands on his face again. That was an unexpected, but very welcome, thing. The next morning, he’s up early, so he showers and gets dressed and then heads down to the lobby for some coffee and a paper. He grabs two cups, stacks them in his hand when he goes to unlock the door to their room; she is awake when he returns, freshly dressed, hair pulled back, and she takes the coffees from his hand before he spills them everywhere.

“Thanks. The one on the left is for you; two sugars,” he says offhand, grabbing his cup and setting it down on the nightstand, flipping open the paper. He sits down on the edge of the bed closest to the nightstand, doesn’t notice her smile, but she settles on her bed across from him, sips her coffee, and reaches up to pull the sports section out from between his fingers. He maybe cracks a smile of his own. That evening, they get back to the room a little cranky, another late night full of dead end leads, and she skips yoga and heads straight for the shower. The blissfully hot water feels good against her skin, and she thinks about touching herself, but it wouldn’t be appropriate, not with Hotch just outside the door.

The thought only makes her hotter, but still, she refrains.

When she’s wrapped up in her towel, she pushes open the door like the night before, starts brushing her teeth, and it’s not long before Hotch fills the space beside her, copying her actions. She washes her face, and he washes his with soap again—so, so wrong—but at least he uses the moisturizer she gave him afterward. Baby steps.

He leaves the room, and she follows him out to grab her pajamas, sees a bottle of water and a bag of barbeque chips laying on her bed.

Enough is enough, she thinks. She wasn’t sure, until they shared this room, but now she’s 100% certain that Hotch has a thing for her, and she’s harboring her own thing, which is stupid. If she wants him (she really, really does) and he wants her, why aren’t they naked already?

Thankfully, that’s easily remedied. She drops her towel, and Hotch looks up from his tablet, drops his jaw.

“I’ve been thinking about last night; how shy you were about our sharing a room. It made me wonder if you’re shy about other things, too.” She walks around her bed, stands between them, presses her fingers to his tablet to push it down, out of his hands. “Are you shy, Hotch?”

“No,” he says roughly, making no effort to conceal the way his eyes sweep over her naked body. She’d blush, but she’s not the blushing type.

“No?” She climbs up, settles in his lap—he’s tenting his boxers already and it makes her feel awesome—and his hands fall to her thighs, spread around him, squeezing roughly. She moans, rolls her hips slowly. “Do you think you can handle me, Hotch? I’m kind of a lot.”

He answers with his hands, grabs her face and pulls her down for a long, dirty, messy kiss. Her chest is heaving by the end of it, and she’s definitely leaving a wet patch on his underwear, she’s so fucking horny. He tips her back, so she’s laying against the sheets, tugs off his shirt, and drapes himself on top of her, tilts her head to the side so he can get his mouth on her neck.

“Oh my god, mmm,” she sighs as he sucks on her throat, grinding his clothed dick against her, and she moves her hands down to sweep them over his body, but he grabs them, pins them up by her head instead. “Fuck, Hotch.” It leaves her mouth as a trembling gasp, and he looks up at her, his eyes dark and hard; he growls out a command for her to stay—she’s sure as shit not going for a damn stroll any time soon—and leans up, pushes his boxers down, and flips her body over.

She’s laying a little sideways, kind of lined up with the bottom corner of the bed—it always makes her feel like a complete whore to fuck anywhere but right up against the pillows, so this alone is enough to get her super hot. He gets both broad palms on her ass, squeezes her hard enough to hurt (and damn if that doesn’t make her pussy drip) and then slowly slides his fingers over her slit, making her toss her head back and groan.

“Oh, yeah. So, so good,” she sighs as he rubs her, spreads her wetness between her lips, over her clit and her mound so she’s sticky and soaked and begging for more, and then he plants his hands on either side of her and thrusts in so hard she has to dig her fingers into the sheets or she’ll go skidding off the bed. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, clutching for dear life as he slams inside roughly and deeply, but so slow it’s almost torture.

“So how am I handling you?” he asks, low into her ear, leaning in to press his chest heavily against her back, rolling his hips and grinding where he’s seated deep. He pulls out almost all of the way and then slams back in so quickly her whole body stutters forward, and her head’s empty, no thoughts but my boss is fucking me and my boss is fucking me good.

She just pants in reply, and he repeats that motion over and over, fast, nearly withdrawing just to fill her until his balls slap against her; she feels filthy, and amazing, and a little pissed it took them this long to do this, and she comes screaming his name, yanking so hard at the bedding that she pulls the fitted sheet right off the mattress.

He keeps pumping inside her, and she clenches around him, moans. He grunts, leans in to nibble her ear. “That’s my girl. Can you handle me?”

“My god, yeah.” She wants to, at least; she’s never been fucked this good in her life, so she’s honestly not sure how much she can handle. It’s always the quiet ones, she really should have known.

“Trust me on this,” he whispers, and she does because she does; he puts his hands on her arms, pries them off of the bed and moves her forward, guides her hands to the floor to support her so she’s half off the bed, her ass up. She’s strong, and he knows she’s strong, but she’s not sure she’s strong enough for this because he just fucking destroyed her and her legs are still shaking. “Trust me,” he coos again, and he shifts up, gets one foot on the ground, holds tightly to her hips, and pounds into her fast and hard, short thrusts that have her moaning and groaning and coming a second time before he even comes once.

He does come, though, just after, and she’s glad she’s got an IUD because if not she’d be leaving here fucking pregnant, no doubt about that.

“Hotch,” she gasps, daring to reach an arm back to touch him, and he pulls her up, lays her back, and kisses her, smoothing his hands all over her body. “Jesus. That was incredible.” She cards her fingers through his hair—he’s breathing heavy too, looks as dopey and pleased as she feels, which makes her smile. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you for the last few months. Thought you didn’t notice me much,” she says softly, and he laughs, incredulous.

“Didn’t notice you? All I do is look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She grins.

“Yeah, no, I got that. I figured that out; sorry it took me so long.” He leans in for a kiss, softer and slower, and she gets a little horny again, isn’t sure how that’s possible. “Why’d you stay away so much, if you liked me?” She’d done what she could to get his attention, smiling at him, brushing up against him when she could make it look innocent enough, but he’s always been the picture of propriety, maybe even a little distant.

“Morgan,” he says, making a face like he realizes how silly that was. “He’s been trying to ask you out and I figured you’d say yes eventually; he’s confident in ways I’m not. He’s a lot of things I’m not.”

“Yeah, that’s true, and I like you both for the ways you’re different, but his pursuing me has always been a game. A joke. He’s like a brother to me and he knows it. All in fun,” she says, and then he looks like he feels really silly. She leans up for a kiss. “All's well that ends well though, right?”

“Has this ended well?” he asks, a question in his eyes, and she runs her hands over his arms, his sides.

“If it’s up to me, I’d say this doesn’t have to end at all.” He puts a hand in her hair, kisses her deeply, passionately, and brings a few fingers to rub against her clit. She inhales sharply, licks her lips, and sinks back against the bed. “Oh my god, Hotch.”

“That’s right, baby. I’m your man,” he breathes into her ear, and she groans. Yes, he fucking is. The next morning, she goes to the lobby to pour their coffee, grab a paper to share. She passes Morgan—not a morning person—who grumbles a greeting and then does a double take.

“Whatcha got on your neck there, sweetheart?” he asks, and she grins privately, then schools her expression and turns to face him.

“What? Oh, that,” she says, poking at the purple hickey from the night before. “I’ll cover it with makeup later; needed my coffee first.” He blinks a couple times like he's missing something, frowns.

“Did you go out last night after we got here?”

“Nope, jumped in the shower and went straight to bed,” she replies, which is actually the truth. It just wasn’t her bed. She didn’t say anything about sleeping.

“Then who…?” It’s then that Hotch brushes by them, reaches out a hand for his cup.

“One sugar, one cream,” she says as she passes it over, and they both smile. Morgan knocks his cup over and spills coffee all over the floor.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal