#maybe i could write something really really really short

[ghouljams]

Why is c.ai bad? Like genuine question

One of the main reasons you will see people giving as to why c.ai is bad is that much like all "generative" ai it's basically a copy/paste machine. The algorithm that runs c.ai is made by scraping the writing of millions of human authors in order to train the machine on how sentences and "romance" should be structured in order to appeal to the people using it. This is, by and large, just straight up plagiarism and authors like @/ceilidho end up having their content stolen by c.ai users in order to farm more bots.

If you don't care about the plagiarism aspect of c.ai bots then you should care about the environmental aspect of them. ChatGPT alone uses about 2.9 Wh of electricity just to run a single query, and the water used to cool the servers (again for just one question) is equal to about 3 16 oz bottles of water. Google reported their greenhouse gas emissions rose 50% in 5 years just due to ai use. 1 query can power a lightbulb for about 20 seconds, and every question is routed through a data center which uses even more electricity to answer the question. So you sending a chat to c.ai uses a massive amount of electricity, and for the bot to respond takes even more.

Not to mention data centers have to be built, which consumes a lot of resources and energy, and releases a lot of greenhouse gases. Then they have to be powered, which consumes more energy and more water, and releases even more greenhouse gases.

If 1 in 10 working US Americans asked 1 question every week for a year (52 x 17 million) that would use the same amount of energy that it would take to power EVERY HOUSEHOLD IN WASHINGTON DC (671,803) for 20 days. NPR reported on this as an "energy emergency" this is an unprecedented and explosive amount of energy being used very suddenly, very often, and by a lot of people.

Ok you don't care about that either, then let me appeal to you the person who uses c.ai. Maybe you love your favorite author's work and you really want to rp with one of their characters. Is the bot's ability to write that character really as good as the author's? Is it as satisfying? Or are you just caught up in the short-term dopamine rush of the rp?

Because I tried c.ai when it was first getting popular and let me tell you, it was nowhere near as good as the human role plays I was used to. There was no riffing, no plotting out where we wanted the rp to go, no standard reply length, I had to retry replies multiple times to get something even remotely close to something I could work with to respond to. There were filters, I couldn't use certain words or phrases. The bot couldn't remember anything past a few replies. It was BAD. The shot of dopamine I got after the first reply was gone by the time I was on the third one.

Now maybe I was just spoiled by good human rp partners, but I kept seeing people on tiktok complaining about the same problems. "How to break the c.ai filter" was a major issue. People wanted the experience of role playing or writing a fic, but they didn't want to put the effort into actually doing either of those things.

"Just let people enjoy things!" I hear you cry.

You go on c.ai because you're lonely, or bored, or because you think that finding a human to rp with is too hard or they won't like your scenario/kink/whatever. You are actively contributing to the expulsion of artists from fandom spaces and the destruction of the planet in equal measure. If all you care about is short term gratification, then go on the r/IWishIWasHer subreddit and read the rps threads there. If you actually want to roleplay with someone there are a million discord servers that do that. Hell, there are communities on tumblr that you could join and ask about roleplaying!

Relying on instant gratification will numb you to all the joys that creep towards you. If the only thing you can see is the object in front of you, then you're never going to reach for something better further away.

Not to mention none of your chats on c.ai are actually private, the server is scraping all your responses to have the ai send to other people. So if you're telling the bot some real smutty/embarrassing things that you wouldn't want anyone else to see, congrats on everyone else getting a piece of it.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

dedicated to ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

summary: you, an author, get invited to a talk show for your first novel, but there’s a surprise in store for you.

⋆ ★ ln x reader ░

⋆ ★ fluff + humour ░

masterlist ☾☼

your first novel was a huge success.

a dream come true for you.

it wasn't just the success part really. it was everything. from writing, editing, cover options, editing again, and then publishing. the process was exhausting but so, so fulfilling.

your book had also caused quite a craze among the formula one fans. you had an inkling why that may be. maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with your dedication.

Dedicated to Lando Norris, my green flag inspiration.

yeah, it was definitely because of that.

since you were an indie author, it was absolutely crazy to you when you were invited on a talk show to discuss your book!! the day you'd received the news, you had jumped on the bed! and then promptly fell to the floor, but that's fine.

on the day of your big day (!!), you had dressed up, listened to the encouraging voice notes your boyfriend had sent, since he was working, and then found yourself at the venue a half hour early.

you were excited, who's gonna sue you for that?

they'd gotten you to hair and make up, and they had attached a collar mic and they explained all the rules to you. god there were so many rules. why were there so many rules?

and then they were live!

you stood behind the curtains, watching as the talk show host welcomed the audience, made some jokes, and everyone laughed. you watched as they eventually took their seat, and began introducing your book without naming it. adding in a little touch of their own personal stories to make it relatable.

and then the host brought out your book, and announced your name, and the audience cheered! behind you, the assistant pushed you forward.

with a deep breath, you stepped forward and on set. the crowd cheered louder and you smiled and waved.

"welcome, y/n!" the host said as you sat on the couch beside their couch.

you were glad the interview was in a slightly informal setting. it relaxed your nerves a little bit. the host themselves were sitting with their legs on the couch, tucked underneath them.

"hi! i'm so glad you could make it!" the host greeted you.

“i’m so glad i got invited in the first place! this is like a dream come true!” you exclaimed.

the crowd chuckled, clearly endeared by your excitement.

“now, i have to know, how did you get in the process of writing? according to my research, or stalking to be more accurate-” the audience laughed, as did you, “-you studied psychology?”

“actually, i’m still studying psychology. i’ve been working to get into sports psychology specifically. but um, i’ve always enjoyed writing, i’m always writing poems and short stories and stuff. when the idea for this book struck me, it was like the words had taken over my body and day and night i was only writing,”

“how did you get the idea for the book? like, what was your process?”

you sat up straighter, you loved talking about your book and all the things about the process. “i actually got an idea for the characters first. like, i made a character sketch for my main protagonists, and some of the side characters, and then i came up with a plot to suit the characters,”

“that’s usually not how it’s done, right? i’ve interviewed other authors before, and they’ve always come up with the plot first,”

“it’s definitely unconventional. for the longest time, my editor thought i was just lying about writing the book myself. she genuinely thought i had a ghost writer, because my process was just so weird,” you said, laughing a little bit.

“well, we certainly do know the inspiration behind your male main character,” the host teased, as your cheeks reddened, and the crowd broke out in synchronised “oooohs”

you laughed, shifting a little on the couch, “do we now?”

the host, who was still holding the book with the cover facing the audience, opened the book to the dedication page. turning to you, they said, “now, i’m a little old. so i can’t read very well-” the crowd broke out in scattered laughter, “-but could you read what it says right here?” they pointed to the text.

your smile widened and you said-you didn’t even have to read it-you said, “dedicated to lando norris, my green flag inspiration,”

the crowd burst out in cheers.

“do you know who lando norris is?” the host asked.

you made a confused face and exclaimed, “why would i add his name if i didn’t know who he was?”

the crowd laughed, as did the host, “no, no, no, i meant like, do you know him personally? like, beyond formula one? because why else would you add him as your green flag inspiration?”

“i actually- okay, i’ve been a huge fan of formula one all my life. like, i have weekends blocked on race days and stuff. and it was during one of his interviews- i don’t even remember which race it was- but there was a female interviewer-”

“oh, i’ve seen that clip!” the host said suddenly, jumping slightly.

“oh my god, you have? i love that clip!” turning to the audience, you explained, “there was a female interviewer who asked like, a really smart question about the car and the strategies and how it’s gonna help the team and all of that. it was during the championship battle between max and lando, and lando had complimented the interviewer and said that she always asks the best questions around. and then, a male interviewer who was standing right there called lando a liar and basically insinuated that lando wanted to-” you glanced slightly awkwardly towards the host as you spoke animatedly.

“wanted to sleep with her, yeah,” the host supplied. okay, good, so that was appropriate for you to say.

“yeah, exactly, and lando was just like no, that’s not true, i’m not lying-”

“and that was it for you? that gave birth to your male main character?”

“yeah. that was it for me. that gave birth to my male main character,”

the host kept the book down as the crowd cheered.

"well, y/n," the host started.

turning your entire attention on them, you said, "yes,"

"we've got a little surprise for you,"

"is it going to be someone jumping from somewhere because i don't want that surprise, i'm very happy without a surprise," you said, your eyes comically large.

the crowd laughed.

"we wanted to do that. your surprise said that they won't be able to do it without laughing, so then, we decided not to do that,"

you put your hands together and looked up at the ceiling, "thank you, surprise guest!"

the host laughed along with the crowd. you smiled.

standing, the host announced, "everyone! please welcome! lando norris!"

the crowd let out loud cheers and some even stood.

you stood as well. "what?" you screamed, though it was drowned by the deafening noise of the audience.

the doors opened, the same ones from where you entered, and lando norris walked in. he smiled and he waved. and when he looked at you- you with your hands covering your mouth, eyes tracking his every movement- he winked.

after shaking his hand with his host, he finally turned towards you.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, still not over your shock.

he wrapped an arm around your waist with ease, as you wrapped yours around your neck.

"i'm here to be your surprise guest!" he said, as he pulled back.

"this wasn't on the calendar!"

"i know. i had jon put it on his calendar, cause i knew i would forget it,"

the two of you were still standing in the middle of the stage, arms around each other, though yours had travelled down to settle at his torso, while his remained at your waist.

"is that why you had an early morning training session?" you asked.

"yeah, had to make sure i'm not late for this," he said, still smiling.

"as much as i'm loving the discussion of calendars and training sessions, i am really confused here," the host interrupted, and lando and you finally broke apart.

the two of you settled on the couch, side by side. thighs pressed together, but the hands to yourselves.

"now, what is this about a calendar?" they asked.

"we share one," lando answered simply.

"why?"

"because we live together," you answered.

"right. again, why?"

"people who love each other live together," lando explained like the host was five.

"who love each other?"

"we love each other." you said, using your thumb to point at lando and then you.

the host stared for a few seconds. lando and you looked around awkwardly during that time.

"so, what i'm hearing is that you two-" they pointed at the two of you, "-y/n y/l/n and lando norris love each other and live together and share a calendar,"

"yeah, it's just easier. with my constantly changing schedules, and y/n doing university and writing, its easier to just block time on our calendar so that neither of us really disturbs the other," lando said.

"right right. you two love each other and live together and share a calendar," the host repeated again.

leaning forward, you touched their arm, "are you okay?"

"do i look okay? no! i planned to surprise you!"

"i am surprised!" you defended yourself while lando laughed quietly in the background.

"but you two love each other and live-"

"-live together and share a calendar, yes," lando and you completed the sentence in unison.

the audience laughed.

"hold on, since when has this been going on?" the host asked.

you and lando exchanged a look, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair, "five years," you answered. lando nodded.

"five?" the host burst out.

"yeah,"

"how did you two meet?"

"he was driving, i was there to watch, i crashed into him, poured burning hot coffee all over his fireproofs and bam! we fell in love," you said.

"your delivery is so deadpanned, that i really can't tell whether this is true or not," the host said.

laughing, you leaned into lando, who pressed a kiss against your forehead, "well, the world just found out we've been together. gotta make them wait a little bit, stretch it out," lando said, laughing.

the conversation moved smoothly from there. they spoke about lando's career, and your career, and the three of you made jokes, and read snippets from your book, and lando laughed his high pitched laugh while holding your book, and honestly, right there was your dream come true.

later, after it was over, both you and lando were in the process of getting the mics removed, and everything. the two of you thanked everyone who had been a part of the process, and just before you two left, the host jogged towards you, a slip in their hand.

"this is my personal number. we're going to sit down and talk about all the tea i'm missing here," they said.

you graciously accepted the slip of number, laughing, and lando thanked them for the opportunity and said that they would call soon. bidding goodbye, the two to you began walking to lando's car.

his arm wrapped around your shoulder, "good day?"

you leaned up, pecking his lips, "perfect day,"

as the two of you settled in his car, you suddenly smacked his arm and said, "i can't believe you didn't tell me!"

lando laughed.

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

i really enjoyed writing this one! also, for me, the host was a mix of jimmy fallon and drew barrymore, idk if i got their energies across. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

[herofics]

No Longer Mine, part 3

A/N: I finally got around to writing more of this. The first part can be found here and the second part here. This was written in a very tired state, so it might be a bit all over the place, but I think it's okay

Word count: 2.3k

Contrary to what he’d hoped, Gojo couldn’t fall asleep after he felt the migraine coming in while fighting with Ava. He loved her and his conscience wouldn’t let him sleep after being such an asshole. He had heard the front door slam shut quite loudly, after Ava had stormed off. She must have left the house, and Gojo was going to go after her, he had to. He couldn’t just leave things like this.

You had gotten back home with Nanami a while ago, but he had gotten called away on a short mission almost immediately after your arrival. Maybe that was for the best, you could use some alone time to sort out your thoughts about what had happened earlier. You weren’t really sure what you were feeling. You were angry at Gojo for his jealousy or whatever the hell he had displayed when he saw you and Nanami holding hands. He didn’t have any right to be possessive or jealous over you anymore. At least you were finally able to put a face to the name when it came to Ava. You couldn’t really put your finger on it, but you got an odd vibe from her. She seemed very shocked when she saw you and especially when she heard your name, and you took note of the brief death glare she gave Gojo. Could it be that Gojo hadn’t told her about your return? It had been six months, surely he would have told his fiancée, right?

The hours passed, but you just couldn’t get it out of your mind. Why wouldn’t Gojo have told her? You were just making yourself a cup of tea when the doorbell rang. You couldn’t think of who it could be, so you checked the peephole.

“Ava?” you muttered quietly to yourself. What could she possibly be doing behind your door?

You took a deep breath to calm yourself and opened the door.

“Hello” you greeted her politely.

“Hi. We met briefly earlier today. I’m Ava, Satoru’s fiancée”

“I’m sorry I didn’t really introduce myself earlier, I’m (Full Name). It’s nice to meet you” you bowed a little bit.

“Would you mind if I came in? There’s something I’d like to talk about with you” she asked.

“Sure, come in”

There was something odd about her, but you decided to be polite and invite her inside. She didn’t seem threatening or jealous or anything of the sort, she just seemed very intent on talking with you about something. The two of you sat down by the kitchen table and you offered to make her tea, which she accepted.

“So, what did you want to talk with me about?” you asked.

“I’m going to get straight to the point. Stay away from my Satoru” she said very matter of factly.

“Excuse me?” you asked, blinking a few times in disbelief at her forwardness as you set the tea cups on the table and turned to grab the sugar from the cupboard.

“Seeing you is obviously painful for him. You probably don’t know this, but when you disappeared, it almost killed him. When I met him, he was in a bad way. He was a shell compared to what he was with you. I’m sure you don’t want to hurt him, so I would like you to stay away from him” she announced.

You took a sip of your tea, noticing it tasted a bit off, but not paying much mind to it. You were much more interested in this woman’s demand.

“And if I don’t?” you asked, not really in a challenging tone, but more out of sheer curiosity.

“I’ll make sure that this time, you stay gone” she hissed.

“What does that mean? Do you have something to do with what happened to me?” you asked, but as you looked at her, you noticed your vision was going a bit blurry.

You could feel yourself losing consciousness. She must have put something in your tea when you had your back turned. You wouldn’t just pass out for no reason. You stood up, attempting to get away from her, but you fell to the floor, hitting your head on the corner of the table on the way down. As the blood started to slowly flow down your face, your vision went black and you lost consciousness.

Gojo couldn’t find Ava anywhere. He had already checked the whole estate and all the places she liked to go nearby, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?” he muttered to himself as he marched towards Nanami’s place.

Gojo didn’t even know why he was going there. Ava could be confrontational sometimes, but surely she wouldn’t have gone to see you after what happened earlier?

“Who am I kidding, she would totally do that” Gojo groaned.

He couldn’t be sure you were at Nanami’s of course, but from what he’d seen earlier, he thought there was a high likelihood that he would find you there. Ava would probably have figured out the same thing. He hadn’t really thought about it, but where had you been staying after you got out of the hospital? Had you been with Nanami the whole time? Why was he even thinking about that, you had made it very clear that what you did was none of his business anymore.

When he got to Nanami’s house, he could see that the curtains were drawn, but there was clearly someone inside, he could see a shadow moving on the other side of the curtains. Since it seemed to be just one person, he figured it was probably you and Ava wasn’t there. Then he noticed it, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized right away, but there was a very faint trace of a familiar cursed energy lingering around. Ava’s cursed energy. It was well suppressed, but Gojo had sharp senses, so he noticed it anyway.

“I’m going to make sure you won’t come back this time. I’m supposed to be his spouse, not you. You don’t deserve him, you don’t deserve him, you don’t deserve him…” Ava kept repeating.

She had long admired Gojo from afar, and wanted to be with him, but you were always in the way. The only way to make him notice her, was to get rid of you, so that’s what she did. She came from a rich family, and finding a curse user to kill you wasn’t a problem either. As it turned out, that curse user didn’t get rid of you like she had instructed him to, but he apparently kept you. Who knows for what reason, but whatever it was, it allowed you to eventually escape with your life.

When Ava eventually approached Gojo after she determined he had hit rock bottom, he didn’t even know who she was. Sure, she had gone to the Kyoto school while Gojo attended the Tokyo one, but they had crossed paths before. Of course he had always been with you even back then. It was like he didn’t even see anyone but you, certainly not her. Over the years, her obsession grew, and eventually she took action to get rid of you, and to get close to Gojo. It all went just like she had planned, until today. Or apparently, until six months ago, since that was when you had actually managed to escape, and her dear fiancé just hadn’t told her about your return.

Gojo hesitated for a moment, before ringing the doorbell. The shuffling and sounds of movement inside the house immediately seized.

“Hey (Name), I know you don’t want to see me right now, but I just want to talk to Ava. I know she’s there” Gojo announced.

Ava had frozen the moment the doorbell rang. She could sense Gojo’s cursed energy before he even spoke. She knew what she was going to do, she would make it look like you had attacked her in a jealous rage, and that she had had to kill you. Surely that would work. You were the jealous ex of his fiancé, who had gone into a fit of rage and attacked her. The atrocities you had no doubt suffered during your missing time could also be used to explain a sudden violent outburst. No one would question it, not since it came from her. She would just have to make it convincing, to hurt herself enough to warrant such a drastic measure as to end your life. Could she manage it? In the few seconds it took for Gojo to realize that something was wrong? No, she had to talk him into going away.

Ava took a deep breath and walked to the front door, opening it a bit, plastering her signature smile on her face. He had no reason to go inside, she could just talk him into leaving. The mixture she had used should keep you unconscious for at least an hour, so she was in no hurry.

“Hi darling. You wanted to talk to me?” she asked.

“I take it (Last Name) doesn’t want to see me?”

“No, they don’t, I’m sorry. We were just talking, so could this wait? I’ll be home in a bit and we can talk about it then” she suggested.

“Yeah, sure…” Gojo said, turning to leave.

As he took a few steps away from the house, something stopped him. Something was telling him he couldn’t leave, that if he did, something terrible would happen. He trusted his instincts, they had saved him so many times, and this feeling wasn’t something he could just ignore.

“I need to talk to (Name)” he said without thinking.

Gojo could have sworn that the mention of your name caused something to flash in Ava’s eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

“Like I said, they don’t want to talk to you, and you can’t just barge into someone else’s home without permission” Ava tried to argue.

“It’s not your home either” Gojo said, as he took a step towards the door.

Ava slammed the door shut and dashed in your direction. She could still make this work, she just had to be fast enough. She raised her hand, readying herself to release her cursed technique upon you.

Gojo hesitated for just a moment. Maybe you really didn’t want to talk to him, but this was going way beyond suspicious. His doubts were confirmed as he felt Ava’s cursed energy grow stronger, as if she was using her technique. He didn’t care about the door, he could just pay Nanami for a new one, so he wrenched it open in one swift motion and ran towards the source of the cursed energy. He had, somewhere in the back of his mind, registered that your cursed energy hadn’t changed for a second during this whole time. Why was Ava using her technique? She must have perceived you as a threat for some reason, but for the life of him Gojo couldn’t figure out why that would be.

As he turned the corner to the kitchen, he couldn’t believe his eyes. You were laying on the floor, your forehead bleeding, and Ava’s blades were just centimeters from piercing your back. The shock caused by the situation in front of him made him slow down for just a fraction of a second, but that was enough for Ava’s blades to reach you. As Gojo knocked her out, her technique disappeared, but the damage was already done. He could see your shirt getting stained with blood. Not again, he was not going to lose you again.

He threw the unconscious Ava over his shoulder and grabbed you to carry you with his other arm. He took you to Shoko and threw Ava into the detention room that was used to house curse users waiting for execution, before returning to the infirmary. Gojo didn’t want to look at his fiancée. He had just left her there, he wasn’t sure if he even cared what happened to her. He just sat outside the room where Shoko was treating you, hanging his head.

"”The strongest” my ass” he muttered bitterly.

How did he not notice what Ava really was? Had she had something to do with your disappearance in the first place? He shouldn’t have given up on you, but now he was losing you all over again. Were you going to die? He wasn’t sure he could handle it a second time. Finding out his fiancée was a complete lie wasn’t easy either, but all he could think about was you. He didn’t want to give Ava another thought, it was all too painful. He had lost another person he loved, and he never really knew her at all.

Gojo sat there in silence for god knows how long, before he heard someone marching down the corridor towards him.

“Where are they?” a familiar voice asked, clearly holding back a lot of anger.

Gojo just motioned towards the door next to him. He couldn’t look at Nanami. He didn’t want to see the expression on his face.

Nanami had just gotten the call from Shoko, as he had gotten back from his mission. You were in the infirmary, and she had just finished her treatment. She couldn’t really give him many details about what had happened to you, since she only knew the broad strokes of the situation, but he knew enough. It wasn’t his call, but he didn’t want Gojo anywhere near you, he only seemed to bring misery into your life nowadays. Nanami knew you’d loved him in the past, and that in some way, you probably still did, but he wasn’t good for you. Everyone around him got hurt.

“Stay away from them, Gojo. They deserve to be happy, even if that isn’t with you anymore” Nanami sighed tiredly, before closing the door behind him as he entered the infirmary.

Gojo knew Nanami was right, all he seemed to bring to you was misery. If you hadn’t been involved with him, you wouldn’t have lost four years of your life. If it wasn’t for your relationship with him, you wouldn’t be hurt right now. If you’d only never met him, your life would have been different.

[wannabespacesmuggler]

TO GOOD TO BE TRUE ➵ A. HOTCHNER [1]

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: You've found yourself spending more time with Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner after a mysterious figure begins following you home. After your stalker's arrest, you believe your freedom is too good to be true. Maybe Arron should've listened.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Warnings: mentions of stalking, kidnapping, canon-typical violence, mutual pining, mentions of Foyet, flashbacks in italics, part one of two

Word Count: 4k

Author’s Note: Your boy has been rewatching Criminal Minds, and Hotch has always been my favorite. After realizing how little Aaron Hotchner fanfic there is on Tumblr, I decided to write my own. This is part one of two — let me know if you want to be tagged in part two.

“You know, you don’t have to bring me coffee every morning.”

You watch Hotch’s eyebrows knit together as a deep stoicism floods his handsome features, but he still graciously takes the small thermos from your hands, which is full of fresh, hot coffee. The two of you have been doing this same song and dance for the past three months — since Hotch started acting as your personal Uber to and from Quantico.

You had noticed a dark vehicle following you on your way home from work several times. At first, you thought you were just being paranoid — a natural side effect of your job with the BAU. But then you started feeling uncomfortable in your own home, as if someone was watching you the entire time. You mentioned it to Garcia offhandedly one morning, and she begged you to tell either Hotch or Morgan. To her dismay, you waved off her concern. In all honesty, you were conflicted. Half of you desperately wanted to tell Hotch and Morgan what was going on — the two men in your life who consistently make you feel safe. However, the other half of you wants to face this fear on your own because what if this is nothing but your own mind playing tricks on you? I mean, you’re an FBI agent after all. You didn’t want to face the embarrassment of telling the two bravest men you’ve ever known that you’re afraid of something lurking in the shadows. 

But then you received the first note. 

You finally had a weekend away from the BAU to relax and catch up on some much needed sleep, but those plans immediately fell apart once you picked up your mail on Saturday morning. There, shoved between your water bill and a Crate and Barrel catalogue was a nondescript envelope with no return address and one word messily written on the front: your name. Inside of the envelope were dozens of photos of you living normally, taken over the course of several months: waiting for the bus on your way to work, grabbing drinks after a long case with Derek and Penelope, relaxing in your own home on your rare days off. And if that wasn’t enough, there was a handwritten note inside with a single sentence written in the same messy handwriting from the front of the envelope: I know who you are.

You immediately called Derek, who was out the door before you could even finish explaining. He spent the short car ride to your townhome scolding you for not telling him about this situation. You shouldn’t be surprised. The two of you met during training at the FBI Academy. Derek Morgan, at face value, was nothing more than a cocky hot shot, but he became your closest companion at the Academy. He’d never really noticed you in class, until one day in hand-to-hand combat training. You were scrappy and eager to prove yourself and Derek watched as you took down the biggest recruit in the class with nothing more than your wits. The odds were stacked against you and yet, you fought like you had the winning hand. In that moment, you earned his undying respect. After the training was done, he watched the man you’d taken down attempt to take a cheap shot at you from behind while you were distracted by a group of recruits. Derek stepped in immediately grabbing his arm before he could get his hands on you. And in that moment, he earned your undying respect. From then on, the two of you were thick as thieves — two bright eyed recruits against the world. You graduated together, kept in touch as the two of you went back to your hometowns, and when Morgan was recruited by Hotch you were the first name he offered when asked if he knew anyone else interested in working for the BAU. So, you shouldn’t be surprised that Derek is overprotective when you tell him about your situation — he’s been looking out for you since the beginning.

Derek took a look at the note and photos when he arrived at your townhome and immediately knew that this was not a situation that the two of you could handle alone. No, you needed the team to help investigate this. But first, you needed to call Hotch. Hotch was, arguably, more concerned than Derek when you called and explained the situation. After the momentary shock wore off, Hotch ordered you to meet him at Quantico with Derek.

Everything after that felt like a blur — as if your life was suddenly set to fast forward. 

Derek helped you gather all your important belongings into a couple of bags and loaded them into his car before heading off to Quantico. To no one’s surprise, Hotch beat the two of you there and immediately asked to see the envelope when you entered the bullpen. You watched as Hotch spread the photos out on an empty table. His brow furrowed and his face twisted into a tight scowl, as his eyes carefully studied every image. Hotch enlisted your help creating a timeline of the photos as Derek called the rest of the team. They arrived over the course of the next hour: Rossi first with an ample amount of coffee and Garcia not far behind. The team got to work finishing the timeline, while Reid memorized every aspect of the note and Morgan went through a cognitive interview with you. Eventually, you all hit a wall. Without a license plate number or a physical description, the profile was just too vague and the search parameters were too wide. Hotch eventually sent the rest of the team home, except for Derek. He ushered both of you into his office and began making a plan of immediate action: getting you set up in an FBI safe house, making sure that there is a constant patrol outside of the premises, setting up a carpool system to and from work.

“Just think of it as a thank you for driving me every day.”

Hotch scoffs at your words before taking a long sip and putting the thermos down in his cup holder. His expression notably softens as he regards you once more. At some point during your late night and early morning one-on-one drives, your relationship with Hotch moved from strictly professional into something much more tender. And you aren’t the only one aware of this not so subtle change. On the rare mornings that Hotch cannot pick you up due to a conflict with Jack’s schooling, Morgan picks you up and grills you about the nature of your relationship with Aaron Hotchner. 

“You know you don’t have to thank me, right?”

A small smile spreads across your face at Hotch’s question. You know you don’t have to thank him, not only is it his job to ensure your safety, but you are also fully aware that he likes the responsibility. It’s his natural instinct to protect you. And it’s a different type of protection than Derek’s brotherly, reactive protectiveness. Derek steps in without a second thought when you’re in danger. Whereas Hotch has a watchful, proactive protectiveness. He has a knack for sensing danger before there are any warning signs. You often feel his eyes on you in the bullpen, on the jet, and in the field, deciphering your facial expressions and body language. 

“I know, but still.”

Hotch rolls his eyes as he pulls out of the driveway, but you notice the ghost of a smile that pulls at the corners of his lips. It doesn’t take long to get to work from the safe house, it’s conveniently almost halfway between Quantico and Hotch’s apartment. What you don’t know is that it isn’t convenient, it’s purposeful. Although Hotch respects and trusts Derek almost more than anyone else and knows he’d protect you with his life, this is something he needed to do. He’s not sure if he could sleep at night if he wasn’t the one making sure that you got back to the safe house at the end of the day or the one checking in with the patrols every morning. 

Hotch parks in his designated spot and climbs out of the vehicle, grabbing both his bag and yours before walking into the building with you side-by-side. Your routine is second nature now. Hell, it’s hard to remember when you didn’t spend this much time with Hotch. He’s become somewhat of a safety net for you. No matter what’s happening with your life or with a case, Hotch is always there at the end of the day to talk it out. 

The bullpen is bustling with activity as the two of you enter. Derek’s voice cuts through the commotion and he motions you both to the conference room. 

“We got him.”

Your brow furrows at Derek’s statement and Hotch’s expression matches your own. 

“We just arrested a white male, early thirties, driving a black four door sedan near your townhome with various photographs of you in the back seat. Reid’s conducting a handwriting test now to compare to the letters we’ve received, but we’re sure we got him.”

Tears well up in your eyes at Derek’s words and you pull him into a tight hug. It was beginning to feel like you’d be in that safe house forever. Although your stalker has always been a top priority for the team, there were always other cases that needed your attention. At first, your stalker was sending letters to you almost every day, either to your townhome or direct to Quantico. But as their contact slowed down over time and there was less and less evidence to gather intel from. You pull away from Derek’s embrace and immediately glance behind your shoulder, to Hotch. A bright grin has spread across your face and Hotch has a hard time remembering the last time he’s seen you this happy.

Hotch had a front seat ticket to your descent into a reasonable madness. Watching as you supplemented your non-existent sleep schedule with a staggering amount of caffeine. He understands your situation better than anyone else. He’s fairly certain he never got a full night’s rest when Foyet was after him — reviewing case files late into the night and early into morning until they were burned into his memory. He knew based on the dark circles under your eyes and your ever decreasing energy level that you’d been doing the same. Hotch kept an eye on you, but didn’t intervene. 

Not until one late night about a month and a half after you were moved to the safe house. The two of you were the only ones left at the office. You had told Hotch that you needed to stay late to finish the paperwork that’s been piling up on your desk. He knows that both Morgan and Reid offered to take some of it off of your plate, but you’re stubborn and you won’t let your personal setbacks affect your professional life. As Hotch finished the last of his paperwork, his eyes landed on you. You were sitting at your desk, sandwiched between Morgan and Reid’s, with an astonishing amount of case files. Hotch was about to busy himself with something else since you were still focused intently on your own work, but stopped as he noticed your pencil snap due to the intense amount of pressure you’d been writing with. It was such a simple inconvenience, but it pulled you into a sudden tailspin. You threw the pencil down onto your desk angrily before pushing your chair out and rushing to the break room.

Hotch waited for a moment before following you. He found you sitting on the floor, back against the counter, and head in your hands. Without a word, he slid down next to you and simply sat shoulder-to-shoulder with you. Your breathing was uneven and you suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed that Hotch just watched you lose your shit over something as simple as a pencil.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head at your apology and covered your hands with his once began nervously picking at your fingers which were already worked red and raw. You lifted your head up to look at him and Hotch’s heart damn near stopped once he noticed the tears streaming down your face. 

“You don’t have to apologize. I know how hard this is.”

Your eyes squeezed shut at his words and you let out a shaky breath. 

“I just feel stupid right now, Hotch. I shouldn’t be this upset over a pencil.”

“We both know this isn’t about the pencil.”

For a moment you both just sat in comfortable silence, as you relished in the warmth of Hotch’s large hand around yours. Hotch has always been an incredible profiler — there’s no one else on the team that can manage to get inside an unsub's head like him. But you think that maybe the person he’s always been best at reading is you. You have known Derek Morgan for over a decade, but no one knows you better than Aaron Hotchner.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Hotch.”

Your defeated tone made Hotch’s heart twist uncomfortably in his chest. This wasn’t like you. You weren’t one to simply lay down and take the punches. No, Hotch had always admired your resilience. But there’s only so much one person can take, and you were at your breaking point.

“I know. But you have to take care of yourself or at least let me — let us — help you.”

His words made him cringe slightly. He’s tried to stay professional during all of this, but it has been difficult. It had been easy covering up his soft spot for you when he only saw you at work, but the lines between work life and personal life had blurred. At first he had simply just driven you to and from work, but after a particularly bad night during your second week in the safe house Hotch started coming in after work every day to search the premises for you. And it quickly became a slippery slope after that. He started staying a little later day by day and then, a month in, you asked if he wanted to stay for a drink and he knew the professional thing to do was to say no, but he was enjoying his time with you too much to be professional. So now here he was, the unit chief of the BAU teetering on the edge of something a little too personal with one of his agents. 

“First things first, you need to get some sleep.”

Hotch shakes off the memory and stiffens his posture. This is exciting news, but as the unit chief he needs to make sure this man’s arrest and interrogation isn’t rushed. He wants nothing more than for you to feel safe in your own home again; however, in order to do that he needs the team to do this correctly. He starts giving orders to Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss before turning to you.

“You know, you don’t have to sit in on the interrogation, right?”

You know it’s supposed to be a question, but his tone is matter-of-fact. The underlying meaning of his words is clear to you: it’s better that you’re not there. It’s not patronizing, no his words are laced with care and concern. He’s trying to do what’s best for you, without taking away your autonomy. You give him a nod before responding. 

“I’ve got some desk work to get done, anyways.”

You turn on your heel, grabbing a stack of case files from Derek’s desk on the way. With your back turned to the conference room, Hotch looks at the only person left: JJ. She’s looking at him expectantly as the last member of the BAU without a plan of action. 

“JJ, I need you to do me a favor. Keep an eye on them, okay?”

JJ watches as Hotch’s eyes find you at your desk, before returning back to her. She raises an eyebrow quizzically, but nods at his request. You start working diligently on Derek’s unfinished paperwork, but your curiosity peaks as JJ approaches you. To your surprise, she simply slides into Reid’s desk and starts getting to work on her own files. You brush off your curiosity as you’re ultimately glad to have some company. The two of you work quietly together for the next couple of hours while the team works to put your stalker behind bars. Sometime after midday, JJ finally looks up from her work and gives you a gentle smile.

“Want to take a break and grab some coffee?”

You let out a sigh as the words leave JJ’s mouth and you close the file in your hands. 

“Please. My eyes are killing me.”

The two of you make your way to the break room and JJ pours three mugs full of coffee. Before you can question her about the third mug, Hotch’s figure sidles next to you. JJ slides two mugs towards the both of you, before giving you a knowing look and making her way back to the bullpen. You grab cream and sugar, putting an ample amount into your mug as Hotch takes his black. He could laugh at the juxtaposition: bitter and sweet. After taking a sip from your mug, you place it on the counter and turn your attention to Hotch.

“Good news or bad news?”

You wish you could read his face, but his workplace stoicism has settled deep into his features. That is, until his lip quirks up every so slightly into a small, lopsided smile. 

“We got him.”

You let out a heavy sigh of relief as you take in his words. You’re not quite sure how to react at this moment. A part of you is still in disbelief that this is actually happening, but then your posture relaxes as the severe anxiety you’ve experienced for three months straight starts to dissipate. Without thinking, you lean your head forward to meet Hotch’s shoulder and wrap your arms around his waist. Hotch looks around the break room which is uncharacteristically empty before wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. 

“It just feels too good to be true.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but he still manages to make them out. And his arm tightens around your shoulders in response. He knows. Of course he knows. Even though he killed Foyet with his own hands, he still finds himself looking over his shoulder for the man. That anxiety — that fear — nestles deep into your bones and stays with you like a parasite. Hotch knows he’s still working through his own trauma, and he’ll stand by you as a helpful, steady hand as you begin healing yourself. You reluctantly pull away from Hotch and take a step back.

“So I can go home?”

Hotch nods at your question.

“I can help you pack up your things when we get back to the safe house.”

You shake your head at his offer. There aren’t enough personal items at your safe house to warrant help and the thought of independence tastes sweet on your tongue.

“Actually, I’m going to do this on my own.”

Hotch’s brow furrows, but you interrupt him before he can protest.

“Aaron, I haven’t been able to do anything by myself for three months. I need this.”

His face softens at your words. He knows he can’t force you to have an escort. After all, the threat has been neutralized. But there’s still this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. This need to hold you close and keep you safe. But this feeling doesn't stem from his position as unit chief. No, this feeling is due to the affection that has taken hold of his heart. Affections he’s been trying to keep at bay long before he started acting as your personal bodyguard. He not only fears for your safety, but also for the change that is about to happen in your relationship with him. You don’t need him around anymore. Hotch will spend his mornings taking Jack to school and you’ll start going out with Derek and Penelope after work again. Things will go back to normal — and that’s what he’s afraid of. But that’s not fair to you, so he bites down his emotions and gives you a curt nod. 

“I understand.”

The hollowness in his voice doesn’t escape you and for a moment, you fear that you’ve hurt him with your decision. But why would that make sense? You know Hotch has missed spending time with his son and now all that time he’s had to waste protecting you can be spent on Jack. Still, there’s something in his tone, the way that his words are void of all emotion, that rubs you the wrong way. But he turns to make his way back to his office before you can question him further. And you fear that this unspoken, tender thing you built with Aaron Hotchner over the past three months left with him. You swallow your heartbreak and go to find Derek.

Hotch collapses into his desk chair with a heavy sigh and attempts to busy himself with the paperwork he snatched off your desk. It helps for a few hours, but you’re there in the back of his mind the entire time. He knows you’re right — you need to feel independent again. But something you said keeps nagging him: it just feels too good to be true. He looks down at his phone, if he leaves now he’ll make it home in time to eat dinner with Jack. As he grabs his coat from the back of his chair, he sends you a quick text to ease his worries. It’s simple, just asking if you made it home safely. He doesn’t wait for your response, instead he pockets his phone, puts on his jacket, and makes his way to his car.

His night passes quickly as he enjoys a meal with his son and helps him with the last of his homework. It isn’t until he puts Jack to bed, that he finally looks at his phone again. His anxiety spikes as he notices that you didn’t respond. Hell, you didn’t even read the message. He quickly dials Morgan’s number, hoping you’d simply gone out with him and Penelope to celebrate your newfound freedom. He picks up on the second ring and Hotch asks if he’s heard from you.

“No, but Garcia and I are on our way to their place.”

Hotch lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Can you tell them to check their phone when you get there?”

“Will do, Hotch.”

Hotch mutters a thank you before hanging up. He distracts himself with dishes as waits for your response. Suddenly, embarrassed at how needy he’s become. He craves your attention in a way that makes him feel vulnerable. Finally, his phone vibrates against the kitchen counter, but to his surprise it’s Morgan’s name that lights up the screen.

“Hotch, we’ve got a problem.”

Hotch’s heart rate quickens at Morgan’s words. His tone is sharper than the last time they spoke, laced with a concern that mirrors his own. 

“What’s wrong Morgan?”

“They aren’t here, but their phone is and the door has been kicked in.”

Hotch’s heart stops, and for a moment he genuinely worries that he might be experiencing cardiac arrest. But Morgan’s voice calling his name pulls him out of his terror.

“Hotch, I’m pretty sure they’ve been taken.”

“I’ll meet you there in 20. Call the rest of the team.”

Hotch hangs up before Morgan has a chance to respond. 

He should have trusted his instincts. Everything about the arrest this morning seemed too perfect — as if your stalker was dropped in front of them wrapped in a bow. He tries to ignore your words still nagging at him: it just feels too good to be true. But a wave of nausea suddenly hits him as he realizes you were right.

This was too good to be true because they got the wrong man.

[pukefactory]

Hiii could you do a dandy’s world, dandy x reader ( she/her or gn pronouns) maybe something like him trying to seduce or manipulate the reader into giving him tapes but he ends up actually gaining feelings for them. Smut or sfw whatever you’re comfortable with. (Also this is my first time requesting something so sorry if I’m doing this wrong)

Hey, no problem! Your request was very clear, and I really appreciate that—you asked for it perfectly. This is my first time posting a short story here. I felt that this prompt would fit better in this format, so I hope it’s just as good as my usual headcanons. I found it quite challenging to write a flirty Dandy while keeping him in character, so I had to make a few compromises. Apologies if it’s not exactly what you envisioned, but I still hope you enjoy it!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶ LIQUID ALPINE ︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

✿ Summary: Dandy gets a little flirty with you when you give him a lot of tapes

✿ Character(s): Dandicus Dancifer (Dandy’s World)

✿ Reader pronouns: Not Specified

✿ Genre: Short Story, SFW

✿ Word Count: 578

✿ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

“DING DING”

The elevator opens with a loud beep that echoes across the dark, oppressive room. Before the metal doors have time to slide up, you’re already heading toward them, mindful of your steps but eager to escape the suffocating darkness. From darkness to light, the sharp brightness of the elevator’s fluorescent lights stings your eyes, a harsh contrast to the murkiness you’d been immersed in for what felt like an eternity. Time seemed irrelevant in the dark, especially when you were trying to outrun whatever was lurking behind you.

When your feet click against the cold metal floor of the elevator, the large door slams shut with a loud thud. You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing you’re safe for now as you descend further into the Gardenview facility.

The freezing air in the elevator washes over your clammy, sweaty skin, sending a shiver down your spine from the abrupt temperature change. You hadn’t realized just how hot you’d gotten, how tired and drenched you felt. Hands covered in thick black ichor, you’ve been at this for hours, and only now do you realize how long you’ve been powering through everything. Your mouth feels as dry as a desert, and you silently beg for a drink, anything to quench the thirst.

“Someone looks thirsty,” a voice says from behind you. “Spare me a few tapes, and I’ll hook you up with the coldest soda I have!”

You turn around, greeted by a familiar face—Dandy. You’d been so hazy that you hadn’t even heard him approach. No matter. What mattered was that he had what you desperately needed, and you had what he wanted in return.

Without wasting any time, you walk up and slam a generous amount of tapes onto the table, silently agreeing to his offer.

“Oh, wowie!” Dandy exclaims. “That’s a lot more than usual, friend!”

“Dandy—”

“I know, I know! Let me grab it for ya.” Dandy jumps off his box and reaches under the table, rummaging around for something. A few seconds later, he jumps back onto the box, holding an ice-cold can of soda in his small green hands. “Only the best for my number one customer.”

You don’t fully process what he says, quickly taking the can and drinking as if you hadn’t had anything in ages. The second the sweet, fizzy liquid hits your tongue, you feel instantly better—refreshed and slightly cooler. Pulling the can away from your lips, you exhale deeply in relief.

“Thanks, Dandy. I really owe you one.”

“No worries at all, friend. You just keep giving me those tapes like you always do, and I’ll give you everything you need.” He leans over the table, elbows resting on it as he cups his chin in his hands.

You don’t know what it is, but something about his expression feels different than usual. He’s smiling, yes, but the way his eyes seem half-closed and his posture feels strangely gentle—something you’ve never seen from him before.

Suddenly, the elevator jerks and starts moving again, dinging once more.

“I’ll save my best stock for you, buddy. My very loyal customer… I’ll be seeing you very soon.” Dandy pulls the lever next to him, and the elevator starts descending again.

Before you can fully grasp the meaning of his words, the heavy metal doors open again, and you’re back out there, the soda can still in your hand. His face lingers in your mind for the rest of the night.

[vivalas-vega]

until next time / part three / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

part three !!! I feel like I'm still kind of setting everything up before we can really get into it so this doesn't feel very substantial to me but when we go back to Raven in the next part we'll be able to really get into things lol. as always, please let me know what you think! comments are so so appreciated and they always make my day

until next time / part three / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

part one / part two

word count: 2k

I do not have a taglist - if you'd like to be notified of future works please follow @vegaslibrary and turn on post notifications

warnings: I don't think any for this part?? maybe language but idk

Jake exhaled a sigh as he tossed the tennis ball in his palm against the bunk above him, mind swirling and trying to find something worth focusing on as he tried to pass the time. This was what he hated most about deployments - there was nothing to do. He’d already worked out, his drills were done, he’d been released for the day but he wished he hadn’t. Your letter back was sitting beside him, he was feeling a little too nervous to even open it… what if it was the biggest fuck you he ever read? You were a writer after all, he imagined you’d probably be able to tell him off in the most elegant, crippling way if you wanted.

Bradley had not even noticed the identical envelopes when mail came around, instead taking his as he disappeared, he assumed to the cafeteria, which is exactly where he was. Bradley’s brow was furrowed as he took in your words, shaking his head softly at the way you were seeming to deflect. He knew you wouldn’t want to worry him while he was on deployment, but he knew you too well. You couldn’t get anything past him even on paper… but there wasn’t exactly anything he could do about it from where he was. 

(text only version of letter)

He sat still for a moment as he contemplated what to do, but soon his feet were moving before his mind could catch up down the narrow hallways towards his bunk, unable to resist questioning just what the hell Jake was thinking… and right about now, Jake was thinking you probably told your best friend what a colossal jerk he was, and when the door to their room opened he sat up with a sigh, bracing for the worst.

“You wrote Raven a letter?” Bradley asked, eyes narrowed with a piece of paper clutched in his hand and while Jake’s first instinct based on the look in his eyes was to lie, he knew that would never work.

“I did,” he decided to answer truthfully, leaving it short and simple.

“Why did you write Raven a letter?”

Jake sighed again, “I accidentally opened hers and felt bad. I just wanted to apologize.”

“So, you accidentally opened my smoking hot best friend's letter and happened to read the entire thing instead of putting it down as soon as you realized, and what? You expect me to think this isn’t you doing your typical Hangman bullshit?”

“I didn’t know she was smoking hot,” he replied and this was clearly the wrong thing to say based on the way Bradley’s eyes widened. “If I were trying to get in her pants I wouldn’t do it through a letter. I just wanted to say sorry and offer my condolences for what happened.”

“It’s not your job to comfort her-” Bradley started but cut himself off, realizing if you were here to witness this one-sided pissing contest you’d be incredibly annoyed. You could stand up for yourself and you never needed him to step in for you, despite how often he tried. If you were mad, you would have handed it by yourself. “Just… she said something about adopting another pilot so clearly she doesn’t mind. She’s my best friend, dude. If you pull anything I’m not the only one you’ll have to answer to, Phoenix will have your ass too.” 

“Not gonna pull anything,” Jake replied. “She really wasn’t mad?”

“You haven’t opened yours?” Jake shook his head. “This isn’t my problem,” he said as he let out a humorless laugh. “Find out for yourself, and if you write her back I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Message received,” Jake said as he held his hands up in surrender, picking up his letter and ripping it open. His eyes quickly scanned the page, unable to keep from smiling as he read. You were surprisingly cool about everything, and even answered all of his questions which he was honestly not expecting. He laughed at some parts, just as he had with the first one, and he quickly grabbed pen and paper to write his reply which Bradley rolled his eyes at from the top bunk.

(text only version of letter)

As he put the pen down he found himself feeling disappointed by the fact that it would probably be a week or so until he got your reply. He hadn’t ever experienced this - he would just go through his deployments and disappear into his own head as much as he could to try and keep himself sharp and entertained but he was finding that with the new promise of communication from you he didn’t need to… he could think about you, figure out new questions to ask or new things to tell you and he decided if you were serious about continuing to write he would share more in his next letter, and ask you more questions, and for the first time since he boarded this ship he didn’t dread rolling over and trying to sleep.

[pleasuretrade]

alright i said i wasn't gonna write this and i'm not actually going to but here is almost 3k words of PI Gale and Muscle for Hire Bucky, pretty much entirely ripped from The Nice Guys (2016). this will never be a real fic bc im too lazy to invent a mystery. u dont need to have seen the nice guys

rating: mature (no porn sorry) pairing: gale cleven x john egan but they don't actually get together bc it's not a full fic. just use ur imagination tags: 70s au, private investigator gale, muscle for hire john, violence, guns, john doing violence on gale but they're cool about it, curt is there

“Thanks, Mr. Egan,” she was saying, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, blown out of place in her convertible, obviously a rental, “you’re really giving me peace of mind.”

”Call me Bucky.” He flipped through the money in the envelope. Ten bucks short. Jeez. Was he really gonna mention it? What was ten bucks? He should be above that. He was doing this work to feel like a useful member of society. To feel good about himself for once. But he had to make a living right? If he did everything cheaper than cheap he’d be broke. “You’re short.”

”What?”

”Short. On cash. Ten bucks.”

”Oh,” she said, searching the floorboard with shaking hands. She retrieved her little yellow purse, procured a tenner. “Sorry. Here.”

”Thank you.” John tucked the bill into the envelope, and the envelope into the inside chest pocket of his sheepskin. He pulled out his notepad and pen, flicking his old notes over the little spiral. “Can you describe the guy for me again?”

”Uh, yeah. Six foot maybe? Blond. Thin, but not scrawny. Prettyboy type.”

 John’s pen scribbled across the page. “And you said you got his address?”

 She rummaged through her purse again, snatching out a crumpled sticky note. “Here. Thanks again,” she hesitated, smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “Bucky.”

“My pleasure, Christine.” John beamed at her from behind his aviators.

-

 He’d knocked about ten times. Rang the bell twice. “Gale Cleven?” he called, finally hearing a rustle from behind the door.

”Who is it?” came the muffled reply.

”Messenger service. Looking for a Gale Cleven.”

 The door opened; blond hair, six foot, prettyboy. Bucky swung a right hook into his nose. The guy, Gale, stumbled backward, planting his ass onto a little bench he had in the hallway there.

”What the fuck—“ he spat, angry but dumbfounded. Blood was already pouring from his nose, his hand held up like he didn’t know whether to grab his face or defend himself, and he was looking up with a confusion that looked too handsome on him.

”We’re gonna have a little chat.” John grabbed his arm, and finally the guy started fighting back. He wasn’t small, and he was fit, John would give him that, but John had him outmuscled by profession and outsized by nature. It took just a little leverage to flip him and toss him across the floor, into the living room. The guy rolled and landed on his side, and then recovered gracefully onto his ass. He pressed his back against the wall. John took three long strides, quickstep, and planted his bootheel firmly on his new friend’s balls and the ball of his foot against his dick. Those slacks were too tight, he could tell right where everything was. It was a little obscene.

”Alright,” Gale froze, holding his hands up in surrender. “Calm down. We can chat.”

 John slipped his brass knuckles out of his pocket, fit them across his fist in a little show for Gale. “Stop looking for Christine.”

 Gale raised his eyebrows, but he smiled. John didn’t like that smile. Or, well, he liked it, but it wasn’t really conducive to getting his job done. It was a charming smile, lined with blood that still seeped down his cupid’s bow. Dangerous. Gale Cleven, huh? “Fine.”

”Fine?”

”Fine.”

”What do you mean fine? Just like that? Aren’t you a PI? Aren’t you looking for her? You’re just gonna give up like that, no questions asked?” Something didn’t match up here. Guy with tight slacks, fancy house, and a dangerous smile, and he was just gonna agree to stop looking for his target? John didn’t buy it. He shifted his foot, just to remind Gale where it was.

”I’m not looking for Christine.”

”You’ve been asking the whole city about her.”

“Then maybe I already know where she is.”

 Alright, now John was getting annoyed. “I’m not sure you’re getting my message—“ John presses his foot down and suddenly his ankle twists and he topples to the ground before he knows what’s happening. Little shit’s hands were fast. Maybe John wasn’t the only one here who knew how to fight dirty.

 Gale was up and bolting to a nearby kitchen counter, reaching into a breadbox that John just knew had a gun inside, and now that he was up to speed, now that he knew what he was dealing with, he didn't skip a beat. He was on him in a second, knocking the little revolver out of his hand with a perfectly aimed brass-knuckled punch to the wrist. Gale grunted as the gun went clattering across the floor. He immediately went to dive for it but John didn’t let him, grabbed him by the belt and shirt and tossed him against a cabinet. He went down heavy.

”Wily, ain’tcha?” John said, surprised that he was breathless. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. “Now I really don’t think you’re getting my message, Gale.”

 Gale flipped onto his back, staring up at John, and boy if that wasn’t a sight. Too handsome for his own good, sure, yeah, but now that John knew he could almost hold his own? Now that John was intrigued? Oh, he was just his type.

”I got your message,” Gale claimed, hands up again like it would work a second time, “I got it.”

”See I really don’t believe you. You’re obviously not scared of me, even though you should be, and you’re obviously hiding something, otherwise you wouldn’t look so damn smug. And you really think—“

 Gale twisted quick across the floor, kicking off and going for that god damn gun again, and John dove down with a knee to his back. This guy was an absolute menace. “Alright, okay, I give,” Gale said, breathing hard under John’s knee. The blond hair at the base of his neck looked soft. John wanted to bury his hand in it. Instead, he wrenched one of Gale’s arm behind his back.

”I just don’t trust you, Gale. You haven’t given me a lot to work with, y’know?” John pressed his arm at just the right angle to make Gale really tense up. Now he was getting what John was saying.

”No, no, I get it, I’ll drop Christine, alright? She was a lead on a case looking for someone else, and I’ll drop it, I’ll find another way.”

”You know, you remind me of a guy I used to know named Buck. Spitting image. Only he was a lot smarter than you, right? He woulda taken my message the first time.“ Gale was much easier on the eyes than Buck, but no one had to know that. “Now make sure you tell your doctor, you’ve got a spiral fracture of your radius—’

”Nonono,” Gale said, still a little too calm for John’s taste. But that could be fixed.

“Deep breath,” John instructed.

 Gale kicked out beneath him. “No. No!”

 John leaned into his hold, twisting and pushing hard and fast.  Familiar resistance, and then give. Gale screamed, convulsing under John’s knee, lifting his hips in an instinct to crawl away. Much better.

 John stood, marched across the room and grabbed the gun, dropped the bullets out of the cylinder. Gale was panting on the ground, arm still behind him and twisted just a little wrong, back arched in pain. “Fuck,” he grunted.

”Alright, you have a good day, Buck!” John sang, waving a hand behind him as he left in case Gale could see him. What a guy. Fun job. John would have done it for ten bucks off, honestly.

 Outside, crossing the sidewalk to get back in his car, John was waylaid by a shorter man, eyeing him up and down. “You a friend of Gale’s?” the man asked. He must have seen John leave Gale’s house. Wouldn’t do to have him suspicious enough to check John’s license plate as he left.

”Yeah, yeah. Colleagues more than friends, really,” John lied, getting into his car but leaving his door open. He put on his most winning smile. The man smiled back.

”Alright. Name’s Curt, I’m Gale’s roommate.” Curt held out his hand and John took it.

”Nice to meet ya, Curt, real nice.”

”Nice to meet you too, uh…” Curt was waiting for his name. John wasn’t going to give it.

”Have a nice day now, Curt!” John chirped, shutting his door and putting the car in drive.

-

 John eked his way through the door between partygoers waiting in line. “Ay, Bucky!” the bouncer greeted, patting him on the back.

”Hey, Jim, how’s it goin’?” John asked, turning to walk backward a few steps.

”Gonna be a busy night, might wanna have your earplugs ready.”

”Always do!”

 John bounded across the club, through the door in the back and up the stairs. There was a guy up there, looking around like he was lost. Probably already drunk and confused before the show even started. He had on a smart red suit, too nice for this place.

”Club’s downstairs, sir, up here’s a private residence.”

”Oh, man, you got like an apartment or something up here?” red suit asked. Jesus. Take a hint, pal.

 John walked to his door, unlocking it. “Yeah, or something. Really, you’re not supposed to be up h—“

 Red suit guy grabbed the back of John’s head and smashed it into his door. The bolt, unlocked as it was, ripped through the doorframe. The guy tossed John inside and he landed hard on the floor, suddenly and vividly empathizing with Gale. Red Suit wasn’t taller than him, but he was a hell of a lot thicker. He grabbed John by the hair and got right in his face, ”Where is Christine?”

 John tried to shake his head, ended up just wincing. “I don’t know a Christine, sorry.”

”Come on, you cocksucker, don’t play dumb with me.” Red Suit bounced his head off the ground and sent the world tilting and whooshing around John for a minute there.

”If you don’t want me dumb, concussing me ain’t gonna help.”

 Red Suit shook him by the hair and John finally grabbed his arm, considering his options. “Tell me where the fuck Christine is.”

”Look, I’d love to help, but you’ll have to tell me who Christine is.”

”Fuck you.” Red Suit pulled up and John followed only to keep his scalp intact. He threw John against the arm of the couch. It winded him, knocked his breath right out of him, but it was a tactically bad choice for Red Suit. John had a double barrle shotgun under that couch.

”Okay, alright,” he gasped, “let’s just reason with each other here.” John slipped onto the ground, crouching and putting on a show of catching his breath. He coughed for good measure, too. “You’re looking for Christine, and I,” John curled in on himself, looking discretely under the couch to make sure the gun was still there, “I don’t know who you’re fucking talking about.” John reached under the couch and in one smooth motion had pulled the gun out and rolled onto his back. He trained the shotgun up at the guy, who produced a tiny handgun from his pocket. John laughed. “Ohh, buddy, it’s not even a contest.”

 John fired the first shell as a warning shot several feet to the left, lightning quick, no time to think to aim and taking out his TV and the radio on top of it. Well. Fuck. Sacrifices had to be made sometimes. Red Suit grimaced, but started backing up to the door, gun still trained on John. John let him. He knew he’d see him again, but that was a problem for another day. He waited until he heard steps going back down the stairs.

“Fuckin’ jagoff!” John yelled after him.

 Now who the fuck was that and who was he working for? And who the hell was this Christine girl, really? And why did one deal with her sic some goon on him? And how the hell did John keep that goon from coming back with his friends? He slid the shotgun back under his couch. Looked at his poor TV and radio. “Fuckin’ jagoff,” he repeated under his breath.

-

 The gym was busy on a Friday night. John made his way through the hallway, past the vending machines and lockerroom doors and into the boxing gym. The place was crawling with people, mostly men jacked to the tits and sweating like pigs. John smiled to himself. This was probably what his heaven would look like. Including the blond currently watching his friend Curt in the ring.

 Curt shuffled back and forth, sparring some guy without really trying. Warming up, probably. Gale sat in a metal folding chair outside the ring, looking up. Tight slacks, tight t-shirt, arm in a cast and held against his chest. He watched Curt, sometimes giving him a note, but mostly just watching.

 John walked up and stood beside his chair, watching too for a few seconds. Curt’s nose looked like it had probably been broken before. John wondered how Gale’s was faring after the other day. A sweet little vivid memory of wide eyes and a bloody nose looking up at him prompted John to finally look down at the top of Gale’s head. Gale looked up, and at the same moment Curt noticed.

”Ay! You’re that fuck that beat up Gale!” Curt yelled, pointing at him with an entire boxing glove.

”Sucker punched,” Gale corrected, shooting him a glance. He looked back up at John. He had a sweet little black eye, courtesy of John himself. “You got a lot of guts coming here,” he said. Quiet. Calm. Deep. Almost vacant. A different person than John had met just three days earlier. He looked back at Curt. “‘Salright, Curt, keep goin’.”

 Curt obviously didn’t want to, but reluctantly listened, turning back to his opponent but glancing over constantly.

”So what, you come to break my other arm?” Gale asked, watching Curt and his partner slide across the ring.

”Nah, maybe I just like ya, Buck,” John said, watching Curt too.

 Gale tsked.

-

 They sat in a plush booth seat at the diner, Curt and Gale on one side and John on the other.

“So you really beat people up for money?” Curt asked, leaning forward with much interest.

”Yup.”

”Could you beat up this guy I know? Name’s Lawrence, he’s a real—“

”Curt,” Gale cut him off.

 John smiled, holding his hands out in placating innocence. Gale glanced at his hands. Raised his doctored arm onto the table to rest it there. John almost felt bad about it by now. “Got a favor to ask, Buck.”

“My names Gale,” Gale said.

“I know what your name is. My name’s Bucky, by the way.”

 Curt made a squawk of confusion. Gale squinted at him. Raised his good arm to cradle his face momentarily. “You call me Buck, and your name is Bucky.”

”Alright, well, not legally, but that’s what I’m called. If you don’t like Bucky, you’re free to call me ‘sir.’” John grinned at him, and the corners of Gale’s mouth honest to god twitched.

”Okay, Bucky. What do you want?” Gale drawled, sipping from a glass of coke.

“I want you to help me find Christine.”

“You want me to help you find the girl you made me stop looking for?”

“Sure. Is that a problem?”

“You broke my goddamn arm.”

“Yeah, and I’m real sorry about that, alright? But look, Buck, I got some money, I can pay. I’ll hire you like an honest to god client.”

“It’s gonna cost you a pretty penny, Bucky.”

 Curt looked back and forth between them like watching a tennis match.

 John had anticipated as much, and he pulled out an envelope with five hundred big ones in it, handed it over. “That enough?”

 Gale eyed him. Took the envelope. Counted it. Eyed him again. Nearly smiled. “So why’re you suddenly interested in finding her again? She owe you money for jumping me or something?”

 John laughed. “Nah. See, someone else is after her, and now they’re after me because they think I’ve got some kind of connection with her, when I don’t. All I know about her is her name, what she looks like, and that a few days ago she was riding around in a rented convertible. Now, I know it’s not you lookin’ for her, ‘cause I made sure of that, but I think whoever it is is gonna be a big thorn in my side until I get it sorted out.”

 Despite the prickle John had drawn out of him, mentioning that he’d made sure and all, Gale looked interested. Amused, really. “Hired muscle, asking me for help finding his own client.”

“Well, she’s just the beginning, now isn’t she? I got a feeling this goes deep, Gale,” John winked, “real deep.” So he was flirting. Sue him.

 Gale’s face cracked into a smile. It reminded him of the one he’d seen when they’d met, all bloody nosed and charming. Gale was excited. That made John excited, too. Gale hid it by looking down at his coke though, like he was bashful all of the sudden. Cute. “Alright, Bucky. It’s a deal.” He tucked the envelope into his pocket, took a drink of his coke, held out his hand. Bucky took it. Gale shook.“‘Cause I already know where she is.”

 Son of a gun.

-----------------

sorry this will never turn into a whole fic but please feel free to whisk it away and make it your very own fic if u want. i honestly just wanted to write john breaking gale's arm like in the nice guys bc i have nice guys brainrot forever and am mentally <3 disturbed

[stars-obsession-pit]

Another thing from cleaning out some old drafts…

Danny Phantom, possibly DP x DC, quest fic idea:

(IDK if quest fics are a known quantity outside of forums like SpaceBattles and SufficientVelocity, but in short, a quest fic is a type of fic where the readers can vote for things - usually the character’s actions - between chapters as the story gets written)

Danny-clone Quest

You’re a clone of Daniel Fenton, made by Vlad Masters. And not a fully stable one. You will fall apart if you don’t figure out something pretty soon.

You could stick with Vlad. He did make you, so there’s a pretty good chance he would know how to stabilize you before you fall apart. But you know he doesn’t really care about you. Is the possibility of his help worth dealing with his unscrupulous nature?

Or maybe your template could help. You’re not certain he’d know how, and he has no reason to trust you, but he at least seems more altruistic than Vlad.

Or… it’s a wide world out there. A world you don’t really understand except for a few scant inherited memories. A solution could potentially be out there somewhere. You have powers, how hard could finding things be? But you would be on your own, and you might collapse before you reach them. At least you’d be free first. Is that greater risk of failure worth it?

What do you do?

(This is not an actual Quest yet. It’s just an idea I chose to write down. I may actually try to write it eventually, but there’s a lot of planning/prep I’d want to do first)

(My thought process with the “maybe DPxDC crossover” part is that if the story stayed in Amity Park (or the Ghost Zone), it might not involve the crossover, but if it left to the rest of the world, it would then likely incorporate DC elements)

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic Dabi from BNHA concept/short in which Darling is afraid of fire? Civilian darling preferred, if that's ok- Dabi just takes a liking to them c: he may be a lil mean tho, to get what he wants, of course. After all, if they shy away from his flames, that could be useful, right?

Oh you poor thing....

Yandere! Dabi with Darling scared of fire

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Controlling behavior, Threats, Burning/Branding, Stalking, Arson, Coercion, Forced relationship.

Oh yeah, Dabi is definitely mean.

Using how I write Dabi, he's a man who likes to be in control.

Anything that allows him to have more control over you is a benefit to him.

This whole scenario is very... unlucky for you.

After all, you're terrified of fire.

Then you get a yandere who not only has fire at his fingertips...

But he has one of the hottest kinds.

Oof, the second he learns his obsession is scared of fire?

You're doomed.

Dabi has always been sadistic.

While part of him wants his obsession to need him... Another part of him just likes to control them.

Dabi probably found out about your fear by pure accident.

He naturally uses fire to take care of his problems.

He terrorizes innocents to get what he wants... and considering you're a civilian...

He may even start his obsession due to your fear of fire.

Dabi begins to enjoy how you cower before him.

He could even start just a few sparks to get you quaking.

Dabi would treat his obsession like a toy, seeking them out to play with them.

You having this fear gives him a lot of control too.

After all, since you're a civilian, he can have you do anything he wants.

Nothing's really stopping him from threatening you, right?

If Dabi wanted you to listen to everything he says, it would be so easy to scare you.

Dabi may not kidnap you at first, he finds you fun to occasionally visit when he isn't busy.

I don't doubt Dabi stalks to get what he wants.

The villain would find where you live just so he can see you.

What're you gonna do? Call for help?

Baby... He'll incinerate anyone who gets in his way.

You don't want that, do you?

You wouldn't want him to burn anything he isn't supposed to, right?

He holds this threat over your head all the time.

Due to him being possessive, he may even mention he wishes he could brand you with his fire.

Which makes you even more scared.

Your fear allows Dabi to get away with a lot.

He slips into your home often, chilling on your couch like you're roommates or something.

He likes this, having somewhere to crash and someone to mess with....

His love for you isn't normal, of course.

He claims he loves you, in reality he probably just likes having you all to himself.

Imagine Dabi convincing his civilian obsession to 'date' him by making small threats?

He claims he could easily burn your house down... He can burn all of who you love... but he won't.

He won't do any of that if you listen to him.

This would force you into being his little partner in fear of him taking everything from you.

Will he stick to his word? Debatable... for the most part he will.

Although it would be so easy for him to go against his little promise if you act up.

He uses coercion to gain affection from you, cuddling you on your couch or giving you kisses.

He probably will go through with branding you as his though.

Maybe on your stomach, neck, or shoulder... He'll apply a burn to remind you you're his.

Other than that, he'll play nice for as long as he can.

His threats control a lot of what you do.

Which usually means being forced to play house.

Unfortunately, if he feels you aren't doing what he wants or knows people are catching on... I can see him staging your death.

Dabi probably would burn your house down and kidnap you to keep you to himself....

He follows through on his threats.

If you really don't want him to hunt down those close to you... He'll just take you.

Imagine being abducted into the LoV after Dabi took you away?

It would be terrifying... You probably even remember the blue flames engulfing your home.

Dabi doesn't care too much.

After all, your new home should be with him anyways.

You're his, have been since he saw you.

This plan of his allows him to keep you all to himself without any trouble...

With your home gone and your supposed death faked... You'll have nowhere to go.

Safe to say Dabi makes your fear of fire worse...

Except, fire isn't your only fear anymore either.

[urlocaloptimist]

hey there! I would love if you could write some telemachus x daughter of apollo! Reader… maybe her being a rlly good huntress and hes like 😳😍 or she draws him? Or maybe she can glow in the dark- idk, there are so many things u could do with it… i just thought it would be cute! ♥️♥️

I love that idea - there may be spelling errors because I didn't check it but here you go <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Telemachus watched Y/N and found himself unable to look away. He'd heard the whispers that she was a daughter of Apollo, and she certainly seemed like it. He slowly approached Y/N from behind, watching her shoot some more arrows into the target. Finally, Telemachus spoke up, "Your archery is impressive." Telemachus hoped the compliment wasn't too straightforward. He didn't want to seem like he was flirting, but he also totally was trying to. Y/n turned around to face him, "Thank you," she said. Telemachus took a few steps closer. He tried to look nonchalant (you gotta be nonchalant) but was pretty sure it wasn't working. "How did you get so good at it?" he asked, taking a glance at the target. The arrows he had shot himself had never been that accurate. "Practice. I could teach you if you'd like?",  Telemachus smiled softly. He was pretty sure his heart had just skipped a beat at her offer. "I'd love it". 

During Y/n's teaching of Telemachus, they grew closer and became good friends—or maybe more—and Telemachus was absolutely as in love with her as he was when he first saw her, On this particular day, she was drawing him.

Telemachus had gotten used to Y/N drawing him by now. He sat still, waiting for her to finish. But he was having a very hard time not staring at her. Telemachus found himself becoming more and more smitten with her every time they spent time together. After a long time of trying to keep his feelings hidden, Telemachus finally spoke up "Hey, Y/N?", "Yeah?", Telemachus smiled quietly. He was really nervous all of a sudden. It was time to either make or break this friendship. "Can I tell you something?", "Of course" " he took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts "Y/N, you're smart and you're beautiful and I just think.....I really like you...." he got the words out and then waited for a response while holding his breath. 

...

"I like you too Telemachus," Y/n said, All the breath left Telemachus at once. He had hoped for this answer and was almost sure Y/N liked him back, but hearing her say it was much different than suspecting it. He was quiet for a second, as the shock still hadn't really faded yet. He then smiled "You really like me? Like as a friend, or...?", "More than a friend." Telemachus's smile widened into a wide grin. He couldn't have been happier. Without thinking, he scooted a few inches closer to her. "So...does that mean we can be together...like as a couple?". "Oh, right, sorry."Telemachus sat still and quiet, but he was almost bouncing with happiness. He smiled warmly for the rest of the time Y/N drew him.

And thus began a beautiful relationship.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The end, I know it was short but I hope it met your standards! 😁

[skippingstonez]

Hello and welcome, it's so exciting to see a new LU x reader blog. If you're ready, I have a request for our favorite gremlin Legend.

While the others are teasing Legend for his newly pink hair after the bunny transformation, Reader (who Legend has a crush on) tells him they actually really like it and they think he looks cute. Cue even more teasing from the others (who know about his crush) and maybe some not-so-subtle pushing for him to confess

I love the idea of the rest of the Chain finding out one of them has a crush and just being such little shits about it

(I was going for something soft and fluffy since you don't have a full rules list posted yet, but if anything about it makes you uncomfy, thats totally fine! Take care of yourself!)

I feel like this one took a long time cause I had to write it like 5 different times since Sky kept being too much of an ass. Anyways, I figured it went perfectly with our already recently turned bunny boy <3

Bunny Bonding

(Legend x hare!Reader) Chapter 1/ 2/ 3

A man, a hero nonetheless, can only be called ‘pinky’ so many times before he snaps.

Legend clenched his jaw, fists tight against the strap of his sword as he tried to resist the urge to light the camp on fire. Between the constant jabs at his hair, it seems Sky and Twilight were determined to use as many bunny related references and jokes they could think of without the others catching on.

“You okay there Ledge?” Sky mockingly asked. “Head feeling a bit fuzzy?” Twilight nearly started howling as Legend glared at them. Planning out the perfect way to get away with murdering them both without Time finding out.

“Oh would the two of you knock it off already?” 

Legend looked up right as you began making your way over to him with a plate of food in each hand. You hand one over, sitting down beside him.

“Ignore them, they're just trying to crawl under your skin.”

“Uhh, excuse me I think you mean burrow” Sky laughed so hard he nearly choked on his food. Twilight and Wild joining in.

“I hope you all know you sound like a slaughtered pig.” You retort.

“At least their hair doesn't look like one.” Winds voice shouts out.

Everyone erupts into laughter, save you and Legend who is now burying his face into his knees. You rub your forehead, totally, and completely done with the lot of them as you part Legends back sympathetically.

You sat with him for a while, letting the others break off into other conversations until the focus is no longer on the hero sat beside you. The sun finally falling just beyond the trees to cast a golden glow through the leaves as some began to clean up.

“Hey Ledge?” 

He looked over to you, waiting for you to continue.

“I know you don't really like it but for the record?” Your hand came up to brush through his hair gently. “I prefer it this way.”

Legend was so still he wondered if he had activated his bracelet by accident. You tilted your head, the admiration in your eyes so startling that Legend sucked in a short breath. Your hand slowly grazed down the side of his face, sending a sharp shiver straight to his core. His hand slowly moved to hold yours, still pressed against his face.

“Really?”

You nodded, thumb brushing against his cheek. “It suits you.”

Legend struggled to process your words. No one had ever complimented his hair before, let alone the rather unnatural color he had been trying to hide since a child.

A high-pitched, drawn out whistle rang out and you ripped your hand away. Heads snapping to where Wars, Wild and Time were staring right at the both of you. 

“Oh don’t mind us,” Wars said casually, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your little moment.”

You rolled your eyes, getting to your feet with a small glance back to Legend. Your lips curved in the smallest smile that made Legend feel like it was made just for him. He wanted all your smiles to be that way. For him to be the reason behind each and every one.

“I'm gonna go wash up, Wild watch my stuff would ya?” The champion nodded as you walked off, flicking Wars on the forehead as you went. Legend slouched back against the tree behind him, not taking his eyes off you until you had completely disappeared from view. Even then he stared at the spot for what felt like minutes, searching for any hint of your return.

“Well?” Time asked, looking at Legend expectantly. “Are you gonna go after her or not?”

Legend glared, “ What kind of question is that!? No im not gonna follow her! I'm not a creep!”

“For the love of Hylia Vet!” Wars groaned, tossing his head back to exaggerate his point. “Please put an end to this train wreck that is watching the two of you flirt around each other!”

Legend's shoulders shot up towards his ears. “We are not!”

“So just now when you nearly kissed her? That wasn’t flirting?” Time challenged and Legend mentally cringed. There was no way he was having this conversation right now. Especially not with these three.

“You need to get your eyes checked, Old Man because that's not what was happening.”

“Oh? And what about the other day when you two were literally all over each other?” Wild added, holding up his Sheikah slate as if it was all the proof he needed. 

That. Fucking. Traitor.

Even if he did have proof, he wouldn't dare show it in front of the others would he? Would he!?

“What? You've been holding out on us!?” Wars said, grabbing for the slate just barely out of his reach.

“That was different and you know it!!” 

“Collector, all we are trying to say is that we think the two of you should be honest. With yourselves, and with each other.” Time advised.

“Otherwise we're locking ya in a room together until you are.” Wars added, avoiding the smack to the head from Time. 

____________

Legend laid on his back, staring up at the night sky, trying to find something to distract himself from his thoughts. He turned to the right, being met with only Hyrule’s back before tossing onto his other side. 

He thought through his inventory, mentally trying to keep track of anything he would need to restock next time they stopped near a town. Maybe he could convince Time to let them stay at an actual Inn while they were at it, even if it meant sharing beds to save on money. He wondered if he could ask to share with you. Wars did say he would lock them- 

He sat up, rubbing at his face to clear his brain for the thousandth time. His eyes grazed over the rest of the sleeping bodies scattered around the clearing. Wind was the only one who slept mostly on his own. Likely because he sometimes slept like a starfish and no one wanted a smack in the face in the middle of the night. Sky seemed to have pulled Four and Warriors into a cuddle pile. One that you seemed to narrowly miss from where you were asleep just beyond Warriors. Twilight was tucked under Time’s arm across the way, the two of them a bit closer to the fire having fallen asleep there by accident. Legend could only imagine the neck pain they would have tomorrow. 

He quickly looked around, noticing Wild, who was on watch currently, distinctly absent. Which either meant he was scouting around or knowing him, was up in a tree somewhere. Legend scanned over everyone again, making sure everyone was truly asleep before bringing his attention back to you. 

You were laying on your side, curled up under your blanket comfortably. Your hair was messily tossed around you. Legend chuckled at the thought of you pouting with Wild as you tried to untangle it in the morning. He propped his head up on his hand, eyes lazily trailing over the soft features of your face before focusing in on your lips. The way they occasionally twitched upward as if thinking of him something pleasant. A shadow of how they were earlier when you looked at him. He wondered what they would feel like pressed against his own-

He fell back onto the ground with a huff, gripping tightly onto his hair. The same hair your hand had touched. He forced himself to think about anything else besides the events of the past few days. Settling to count through his rings, which items he should switch out if given the chance and definitely not about ways to get you to smile again. 

______________

Legend dodged out of the way, a sword striking the ground where he just was. He gripped his sword, turning to run it through the midsection of the bokoblin. Blood splattered his hand as he pulled back, spinning to strike at another creeping up behind him.

An arrow flew by, barely grazing his biceps before a cry rang out behind him. He whipped around, taking in the large Moblin that you and Sky had been working to take down. The way your sword dropped to the ground as you gripped for the arrow now lodged into your arm. Sky rushed towards you only to get sent flying when the Moblin’s club slammed into his gut.

“(Y/N)!” He gave a blow to the other bokoblin before sprinting across the field towards you. The Moblin looming over you as you tried to scramble away, eyes wide as it raised its club. He shot as much of his magic as possible into his boots, begging to go faster, to reach you in time!

It was Twilight who got to you first, blocking the club as it swung down on you. Legend ducked, slashing at the thing's legs aggressively as he passed by, placing himself directly between you and the creature. Legend reached for his bow, aiming right for its eyes as Twilight darted forward. He spares a quick glance at you still on the ground. Why weren't you getting up? Had you gotten hit and he hadn't even realized it?

He narrowed his eyes, sending an arrow straight into one of its eyes. It stumbled back, giving Twilight an opening to reach up and jab his sword right into its neck. It roared as it crumbled to the ground in a large heap. Legend quickly assessed for any more enemies, seeing none as Wars jogged over to them, quickly kneeling in front of you. 

“This is gonna sting” he barely warned before pulling the arrow out. You bit back a cry and Legend gritted his teeth at the sound.

Wars wrapped it quickly, giving you a sip of a red potion. “You okay?”

You nodded, eyes trained on the ground. Legend took in the way your hands trembled in your lap. You got up, arms wrapping around yourself as you continued to stare at the ground. “I..i need a sec.”

You quickly walked off and Legend had to force his legs to not run after you. He looked back to where Twilight was helping Sky off the ground.

“Did something happen during that fight?” Legend immediately asked. You weren't one to freeze in the middle of a fight nor seem so shaken up afterwards.

Sky just shook his head. “No, everything was going well until the arrow.” He explained dusting himself off.

Legend looked back to where you had gone off, taking a small step in the direction as Wars walked past.

“I'm gonna go check on her.” He said, walking after you. Legend's stomach twisted in disappointment.

The rest of them sat around, cleaning off weapons while they waited for the two to come back. Each minute that went by made Legend’s anxiety only grow. Constantly checking to see if you had come back.

“Stop frettin Ledge, I'm sure your kit will be back any sec.” Twilight reassured him, a small chuckle in his voice.

Legend glared at him, Sky looking between them with wide eyes and a matching smile.

“No way!” Sky shouted in excitement. “Oh my gosh she's a-”

“Don't. You. Dare finish that sentence.” Legend snarled.

“Oooh my gosh that's perfect! Hylia, how did I not see that? It's so obvious!” Sky laughed and Legend’s vision was turning red. It was one thing to let them make fun of him but if they thought for a millisecond that he would let them tease you about it they were sorely mistaken.

“Calm down Vet, goodness for someone who insists that there ain't anything going on between the two of ya, you sure are protective.”

“Are you serious!?” Sky shouted again and Legend was about to chuck his sword at him. “Dang it, I owe Four 30 rupees.”

“For what!?”

“Well the two of you have been so close recently I thought you finally said something and got together!” Twilight burst out laughing while Legend just stared at Sky.

“You deserve to lose them then cause there isnt anything going on!” Legend crossed his arms. Ignoring the heat rising to his face.

“He's kidding right? Twi please tell me he's joking.”

“‘fraid not bud.”

“Ledge, buddy. If her literally being a rabbit isn't enough of a sign for you, I'm afraid you're doomed.”

He was ready to tell Sky in great detail who exactly was going to be doomed when he heard footsteps approaching. He jumped to his feet, heart threatening to break through his ribs until he could see you. And when you finally came into view? 

It shattered.

Wars gently led you back, looking just as worried as when he left. Your arms were still wrapped tightly around yourself, the only difference being your eyes. They were red, the skin underneath wet and puffy as though you had been crying.

Legend bolted for you. Hands grabbing your face as he scanned for any signs of further injury.

“You okay bun?” 

Your eyes shot to the other 3 behind him before returning to the ground so quickly Legend almost missed it. 

“fine…” You weren't. Even if your voice wasn't shaking as much as your hands, or your eyes weren't threatening to spill more tears, Legend just knew you weren't okay. 

“Bullshit, what's wrong?” He whispered, his thumb running just underneath your eye to wipe away any potential tears.

“I…” another quick glance to the others before you grabbed his hands. Softly pulling them away with a deep breath. “I just got shaken up is all. I'm okay.”

Legend looked at the others out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever was wrong it was clear that it was either their fault or you were trying to hide it from them. Either way it made Legend want to rip their heads off.

“C’mon” he said, placing his hand on the small of your back. Purposely blocking your view of the 3 others wearing teasing grins on their faces. “We should get back to the others.” 

Everyone agreed, heading towards the predetermined meetup point. He kept close as you walked, hoping you'd open up and tell him what it was that was bothering you. You didn't, but by the time you got there you at least were generally back to normal. Smiling with Hyrule and Four, and helping Wild with the food.

Legend hung back, keeping a close eye on you. He may not know what it was that had caused your tears but he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever it was.

______ 

The opportunity arrived in the middle of the night. Not that Legend was capable of sleeping anyway. He waited until the start of the second watch which would conveniently be yours tonight. Sitting up on his bed roll to see you sat by the fire. The flames illuminated your silhouette, hands fiddling with your hair as you relaxed against the log.

With the others asleep, he stood up and made his way over to you.

“Want some company?”

You spun, face immediately lifting as you spotted him. “Yours? Always.”

Goddess he would never understand how you could make his heart skip so easily. He sat beside you, draping an arm on the log behind you.

“So,” Legend whispers, getting straight to the point. “You wanna tell me what happened earlier?”

You hunch your shoulders, bringing your knees up to your chest. “If I say no?”

“Then I keep pestering you about it.” He teased, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. “Come on Bun, you had us worried back there.”

“I…I don't think I like being a bunny..or hare or whatever..”

From everything Legend had imagined could be wrong, that was surprisingly not something he thought about. It was a sentiment he knew well but why were you bringing this up now? 

The frown on your face tugged at his heart and he needed it gone as soon as possible. He poked at your head repeatedly

“The hell are you doing?” 

“Well obviously you gotta have some sort of disguise cause you look rather Hylian to me.”

You giggled, swatting at his hand playfully. “That's not what I meant!”

Legend held up his hands in mock defeat, giving you time to further explain.

“I just feel so on edge lately,” You explain, hands returning to the ends of your hair. “Like something in my brain is screaming at me to constantly runaway and I can't get it to stop.” 

You throw your head onto his shoulder, your face buried into his tunic. Legend wraps his arms over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. 

“Shit…I probably should've warned you about that. Instincts like that can be really strong, especially if you aren't used to it.”

“It's a thing?? I'm not crazy?” head whipping back up to look at him.

“Unfortunately, yeah. It's a thing, you can even ask Twi though he feels it a bit differently.”

“Oh…” Silence fell as you curled into Legend. Your head resting on his shoulder as his hand lazily played with a strand of your hair. His heart raced at the contact, praying you couldn't feel it pounding rapidly.

“Ledge?” Your voice was barely even a whisper. Hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “How do you get it to stop?”

Legend sighed, nudging you to sit up. You did, eyeing him curiously as he turned you away from him. He ran his fingers through your hair, grabbing it in sections.

“It doesn't. But it gets easier to ignore after a while.”

“Well how did you do it?”

“Is it dumb to just say practice?” His fingers weaving the sections of hair together.

“Yes”

“Well too bad, you're stuck with the dumb answer.” Legend chuckled, heart soaring at the sound of your giggle. He crossed over another section of your hair until all of it was in a single braid.

You pulled it forward, admiring his work with the same gleam in your eyes as the day before.

“I didn't know you knew how to braid” 

Legend shrugged, leaning back against the log. “What can I say? I'm a man of many talents.”

“Well I will be putting this one to use! Its better than Wild’s.”

Legend laughed. He couldn't help but smile at the way you smiled up at him. He reached out, brushing a knuckle over your cheek.

“Anytime (Y/N).”

You held his gaze, leaning into his hand that now cupped your face. Your eyes flicked down to his lips and Legend slowly leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours.

The kiss was soft, intoxicating and everything he dreamed it would be.

He captured your bottom lip, pulling on it ever so slightly before he pulled away. Breaths heavy between the two of you as he ran his thumb over your cheek.

“So I guess Four is out 30 rupees now?”

“You heard that huh?” He laughed, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, and I'll admit, I was really hoping Sky would win that one.” 

Legend pulled back, pulling you into his side with his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Me too Bun."

[scholarhect]

i wish i would learn to write i think that would be such a fun outlet for me. unfortunately i am not creative. and also am not willing to spend time on things

[just-a-little-unionoid]

So I randomly rewatched Reign Of Kids...

"You don't wanna play anymore, James?"

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[teddybeartoji]

Fem!Tooru is messy messy and gets sooo pink in the face and cums so hard when she tells you she’s gonna pee n instead of stopping, you just kiss her n tell her it’s okay to just let it all go while you’re fucking her 😞

Also begs you to piss on her cunt while you’re scissoring cause “‘s so nice n warm” ://///!!

FUSAIJDOHKJ3HFKFHKJGKAJEGFHKSEJFKJ3HFLSEKHFJAEHFKWHRIOH2QKJBDKDLQDHKQJHRHDKQJWDLKQHQH2KQ2FKJ3HFIU3HFKJ3BKFJQ3KJFBQ

YOU REALLY ARE FUCKING INSANE AND I WANT YOU SOOO BADDD FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUCKKK SHE'S SO FUCKING CUUTEE AND SHE'S SOOOO FUCKING WHINEYY SHE'S TRYING TO PUSH YOU AWAYY BUT SHE'S JUST SOOO WEAK WHEN SHE'S LIKE THISS AND SHE GETS SOOOO FUCKING EMBARRASSED ABT THE PISS RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH TRIES TO HIDE HER PRETTY FACE AND YOU JUST HAVE TO FORCE HER TO LOOK AT YOUUU

AND OHMYFUCKING GODDDD OF I HEAR HER SAY " 'SO NICE N WARM".. I AM. EATING HER. CANNIBALISM STYLE. YOUUUU CAN'T DOOO THIS TOO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE FUUUCKFUCKFUKKKKFUCK FUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh