#parenting strategy cards

[destinycardsystem]

The Destiny Card System

Website: https://www.destinycardsystem.com

Address: Dundee, Oregon, USA

The Destiny Card System offers unique insights and consultations based on cardology. It provides personalized consultations, including destiny card reports and child's destiny card consultations. Services are available online, emphasizing the use of cards to explore personal insights and parenting strategies. The site also features an informative blog and a shop for destiny card reports.

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[dravidious]

You're more amazing than annoy squidward day

Mutate and backup are awesome mechanics because adding abilities to things is super cool so I made another mechanic to do that

[bloomeng]

This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)

(image updated: 9/21/24)

I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.

Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories it can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.

This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)

Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.

Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.

(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)

The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.

This is a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rogues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.

Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title stripped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”

In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.

Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)

Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.

So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.

To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.

But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.

Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.

Things I haven’t figured out:

- what each of the batfam’s weapons are

- what each of the magical artifacts are

- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as

Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifact wielders.”

- how the wonderfam fits into this

I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could to see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”

Fin… for now.

[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]

Current designs:

[cupidkenji]

killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?” 

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?” 

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

– 

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

– 

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 

“I can watch him.” 

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

– 

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

[hemmingsleclerc]

Hi! Could you write a fic with dad!Carlos x reader, where they have twins, and they're in a family gathering, they're playing UNO with the kids, each has one twin, but then Carlos loses, reader won, and pretenting to be super offended and says reader cheated, and everybody is siding with her, including the twins, and he pretends to cry, and the kids feel bad and hug and kiss their daddy? Thank you! <3

UNO! ┃CS55

note: ugh I love dad!Carlos 😭💕 this request was soo funny, I loved it

The Sainz family gathered for a joyful family reunion, and laughter echoed through the living room. Carlos and his wife Y/N watched over their energetic twins, Adrian and Noah, as they ran around the room, their laughter mingling with their voices.

"Alright, who wants to play a game?!" Y/N asked. Carlos approached the large table in the living room with different board games and the twins approached the table excitedly to grab their places.

''UNO! Please!'' Noah shouted holding up the deck of brightly colored cards.

''Yes! I love that game!'' Adrian nodded in agreement

''Alright, UNO will be''

Carlos smiled, knowing that a game of UNO with his lively twins was always chaos. "Are you guys ready?" he asked, ruffling Adrian's hair as he sat at the table next to him.

Adrian nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Yes, Dad! We'll beat Mommy, right, Noah?"

Noah nodded, his small hand clutching a handful of UNO cards. ''Of course, because I will win!''

The game began with cheers and jokes. Y/N and Carlos teamed up with one of the twins each, creating a competition. As the game progressed, laughter filled the room and the twins' infectious giggles warmed their parents' hearts.

''Come on Noah!'' Carlos said frustrated, ''Why do you always give me +4 cards?''

Noah giggled ''Sorry papá''

However, luck seemed to favor Y/N and Noah as they drew card after card, inching closer to victory. Carlos and Adrián exchanged determined looks, but despite their best efforts, their stack of cards steadily grew thanks to Y/N's strategies.

Finally, with a triumphant smile, Y/N laid down her last card, declaring herself the winner. "UNO!" she exclaimed, her eyes full of joy and amusement as she watched Carlos throw his stack of cards onto the table.

Carlos's jaw dropped in mock disbelief, his playful expression turning into an exaggerated pout. "No, c'mon! You cheated, amor! You must have! I was winning," he exclaimed, feigning offense.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and her laughter filled the room. "Oh, come on, Carlos! You're just jealous because you lost fairly, once again I proved to be the best at this game, accept it cariño."

The room erupted in laughter as Carlos continued his charade, pretending to be deeply hurt by his defeat. "But…but…I thought we were a team, Adrian!" He said, turning to his son with feigned disappointment when he saw how he celebrated his mother's victory.

Adrian giggled, shaking his head. "Sorry, daddy! Mommy's the best at UNO!"

"No fair, Noah! You're supposed to be on my team!" Carlos exclaimed, turning to his other son, who simply grinned in response.

The rest of the family joined in, mocking Carlos affectionately as he continued his theatrics, pretending to wipe away imaginary tears while covering his face. However, the twins, sensing his father's distress, exchanged a worried look.

"Papá, you're the best in the world!" Adrian declared, throwing his arms around Carlos in a tight hug.''Please don't cry! We didn't want to make you feel bad''

Noah joined in, wrapping his little arms around Carlos's neck. "We love you, papá!"

Carlos's heart filled with warmth as he hugged his children tightly, his playful façade fading. Y/N watched everything fondly as she saw her husband along with their little children.

With a satisfied smile, Carlos leaned down to plant a kiss on the forehead of each of his twins. "I love you both more than anything in the world," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

[robin-evry]

Hey there! Your fics are awesome, keep up the good work! :]

Also wanted to know if you could write a Loucha!yuu, Jing yuan!yuu or a Boothill!yuu(you can choose any of them)? If that isn't too much to ask for of course. Other than that, hope you have a good day <3

Hello, I'm glad that you enjoyed it and thank you for reading it.

so I'm gonna do all three of them but the headcanon is gonna be much shorter than my usual headcanon, hope that's okay.

( PS : Sorry if I've been slow on updates or responding on ask, is due to me being in the hospital for some time. )

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 ⚰️🌾

An elegant and handsome blond young man who carries a giant coffin on his back. As an intergalactic merchant, he was unfortunately caught in the Xianzhou Luofu's Stellaron crisis. And that is how he found his mastery of medicine to come in handy.

NRC new official nurse, luocha!yuu is allowed to stay at NRC and study there while working as a part time nurse in the meantime, luocha!yuu healing abilities are by far more the best than most healing magic, their ability allows them to heal or restore damaged items into their original state. During the savanaclaw arc Leona number one concern is luocha!yuu due to their healing ability so ruggie was tasked to take them down first but every time he tried the plan failed or something interrupted it before it could happen. As if they will Always be aware of their plans before it could happen.

Known for carrying a large coffin around their back, the first years usually ask what's inside the coffin but every time they answer, luocha!yuu will always leave them with a vague answer. Many students have once seen luocha!yuu talking to the coffin or the person inside of it and one time a student once saw vines coming out to touch loucha!yuu hand. These rumors might cause some feeling of uncertainty around luocha!yuu but they seem to not mind because they said it's normal for people to feel that way.

More than meets the eye, perfectly described luocha!yuu. They may seem graceful and a genuine person but there seems to be a level deeper than what they appear as, luocha!Yuu is by far more intelligent as well more sharp than what many students think it's rather unwise to underestimate them or to trust them so easily.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 🐥🐣

The Divine Foresight, one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance, leads the Cloud Knights of the Xianzhou Luofu. A student of the Luofu's previous Sword Champion, though not known for his martial prowess.

The prince charming of NRC. Handsome, charming, as well as animals love them. Known for their laid back personality Jing yuan!Yuu is very charming for the entire student body no one can resist their charm. Get along with Leona surprisingly both of them are known for their sleepy nature as well mastery at chess. Jing yuan!Yuu is Nestorius for their laid back and sleeping habits always post phoning their assignment but always finishing them in time as well getting good grades.

Carter once took a picture while they were sleeping and uploaded it on magicam and it went viral, many comments ask who's the hottie in the picture. Azul seeing the popularity of and started to sell photo cards of them and it was a hit that he earned more money than ever, Jing yuan!yuu find this amusing they make a contract with Azul that he is allowed to sell random pictures of them in exchange for half of the money he earns as compensation and it was a deal. Many agencies want to make contracts with them including vil one but Jing yuan!yuu will always ignore and change the subject or reject their offer.

Lilia and them would have tea together discussing their time during generals as well some parenting advice and some battlefield strategy. Jing yuan!Yuu is a powerful warrior and many people respect and admire them for it including epel, during overblot if the situation has become more severe Jing yuan!yuu would step up and end the fight using lightning lord to change the tides of the battlefield. epel reminds them a little of yanqing full of life and energy, he approached them whenever or not could they train together.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 🤠🐎

A cyborg cowboy drifting among the stars. Extremely optimistic and unrestrained. He is a member of the Galaxy Rangers who swore to punish the wretched by any and all means... His flamboyant and brash actions were all to draw the attention of the Interastral Peace Corporation — the target of his revenge.

NRC number one menace, during the orientation ceremony points their revolver to Crowley. Boothill!yuu knows business and they don't care who they go against. Boothill!yuu is very notorious for breaking rules as well as being wild in NRC. Many people see them as brash or otherworldly but theirs is also another side that encourages this behavior they are free. Boothill!Yuu is a trustworthy friend willing to do everything as long as they are safe and sound. A Ride or die partner. They are also known for their colorful ways of expressing words and cursing, their vocabulary causes riddles to faint. They also have a small dislike towards riddle of how his uptight ness of rules reminds them of an organization everyone should be free to express themselves and not be punished by something so small.

Floyd and them are best friends you can find them running towards each other whenever one of them comes to view, every time they finish an encounter one of them or both of them always end up in the nurse's office due to a playful spar they usually do. Since if you guys don't know boothill is canon for being illiterate so and doesn't want to learn how to read and write, boothill!yuu receive a magical device that helps them with reading and writing. It was created by idia and during why he decided to make it, idia replied it as a way to greet because he's happy Ortho is not the only one being a cyborg.

Idia, Ortho, epel and floyd are by far the closest to them other than the other first years, if a malfunction happens with their cyborg body, idia will find a way to repair or replace the malfunctioning item as well boothill!yuu and Ortho get along together like siblings. Boothill!yuu wants epel to embrace his other side and this will always end with a clash with vill, since they find epel similar towards themselves. Epel feels free as well being himself around boothill!yuu since both of them grew up in the country side. So he is usually free to express himself around them without worrying about vil. Boothill!Yuu is epel safe haven from vil if things get too hard in pomifiore.

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! I'm learning from friends and duolingo lol but I still have a long way to go! Oooh imagine Miguel being furious another parent of another kid on Gabi's team shitalking about her in spanish. About how she's bossy for a girl and that she needs to pipe down and know her place. Mama tries to calm him down but fighting words commence lol

That's a good way to start. Best of lucks ✨

"C'mon Gabi!! Get it baby!!!" You couldn't help but cheer her on as she kicked the ball in between her rival's feet, the ball passing between the kid and Gabi kept on leading with the ball.

A trick you had seen her practicing in the porch with Miguel. Your chest swelled with pride as Gabi passed the ball to another teammate, and they earned a score.

Miguel clapped and cheered her on, mid-time beeped and Gabi's team was called for feedback, some changes and tactic discussion.

Miguel walked towards the team, bottle of water in hand along a towel. Gabi's voice clear as she discussed with her team.

"No, no, pass the ball to Reuben, he is faster and you are injured remember? You are good with passes."

The kid only nodded sheepishly as he held his ankle softly.

Miguel's eyes softened upon hearing her lead, and exchange strategies with her team. She then turned to him and hugged him.

"Esa es mi niña." (That's my girl)

"Pappa, can we go to get some pizza later?"

"Of course." He offered the towel for her, which she used to dry her sweat, and the high pitch whistle rang, announcing the second time of the game.

He was making his way back when a voice made him stop in his tracks.

"¿Esa niña otra vez? ¿Porqué no le dan chance a Víctor?" (That kid again? Why Victor isn't getting a chance instead?)

If he could remember, the man was a parent he often saw at the games, always trash talking other kids in spanish, just because his kid was taking separate training and was doing an improvement on the team. Or so he had said.

He never paid attention to him really, or any other parents except you and of course Gabriela. Who had just been pulled a yellow card as a warning for playing a bit too rough.

"¿Ves? Esa niña es demasiado mandona y agresiva. Tiene que relajarse o si no terminará golpeando a todo el equipo contrario." (See? That girl is too bossy and aggressive. She needs to be tamed down or else she'll end up hitting the whole rival team)

That made his eye twitch in anger.

How dared he speaking about his daughter like this? A blatant disrespect he couldn't allow. He turned on his back and made his way towards the father.

Eyes hardened and fixed on the man that caught his presence a little too late as Miguel loomed over him.

"¿Qué dijiste de mi hija, cabrón?" (What did you just said about my daughter, fucker?)

Even though his tone was calm, each word he spilled were almost biting.

"That she needs to be tamed down." Despite the man's apparent bravado Miguel could hint the crack in his voice.

"¿Porqué no me repites lo que dijiste en mi cara, eh?" (Why don't you repeat what you just said to my face?)

At this point the cheerings had stopped to focus on the exchange between Miguel and the other kid's dad. Your heart leaped to your throat as you saw Miguel almost bearing his teeth at the man as his lips moved angrily.

"Fuck." You approached

"¿Te crees muy chingón para andar insultando a los hijos de los demás, sólo porque crees que nadie te entiende?" (You think you're brave to insult other's kids just cause you think none understands you?)

"Necesitas relajarte, amigo" (You need to relax, man)

The man seemed to hold a hand, creating space between them, the kids had stopped playing as they also focused on what was going on.

You held his hand and tried to pull him away.

"Let's go" You mumbled but his angered self ignored you.

"No soy tu amigo, pendejo. Y escúchame bien, cabrón. Si vuelvo a oir que le estás faltando el respeto a mi hija o a los otros niños te voy a partir la madre." (I'm not your fucking friend. And listen to me very well, you fucker. If I hear you disrespecting my kid or the others, I'll fuck you up.)

The whistle of the referee and other parents had to create more space in between, the tension between the both was palpable enough, you felt his hand gripping yours tighter.

The referee whistled again, resuming the game, cheerings and clapping slowly returned as the kids played.

"What happened?!"

"He was speaking shit of Gabriela. Hopefully he'll know now that I can understand him pretty fucking well. Talvez así se calla el hocico." (Maybe that way he can shut the fuck up)

You sighed and rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him. He threw glances at the man that only recoiled to his own self whenever he caught Miguel staring at him.

[engeorged]

The Conference Part One

Chapter One: 2018

Kit had taken the job not knowing that my first week would be the company’s annual sales conference. He was always painfully shy and preferred to stay at home with his nose in a book or playing some online strategy game in his darkened room. He had done well at school and college and eventually university where he had picked up his qualifications easily and ahead of schedule. But after finishing he moved back in with his parents and rarely went out. At first it was perfect, his parents left him alone and his noisy brothers were all off living their lives. But at 26, he began to feel a bit trapped. He needed to change something.

Tackling it in his usual academic way, he booked some time with a life coach. The first few meetings with the coach were painful but eventually he began to come round to the idea that he had a lot to offer the world. He was smart and funny and even though he would never admit it, quite attractive in a bookish way. Kit was tall and athletic looking for someone who didn't do any athletics. The coach had encouraged him to put himself out there into the world and so he applied for a job with a huge international shipping company. Well, shipping was their business on paper but in reality they dabbled in most markets making billions every day. The analytics job he applied for suited Kit down to the ground, he would be based in an office ploughing through numbers but would still be in contact with colleagues in person.

The day of the conference arrived and Kit had every intention of trying to interact with some people and had even practised some conversation starters in advance. As he stepped into the lobby of the huge hotel his heart began to pound, this was going to be even harder than he had feared. But he was determined to not bail. He joined the queue for check in and once he had his key card, he hurried off to his room for safety. After nesting and getting unpacked, he gave himself a little pep talk in the mirror and ventured to the first session. There was no way he would be able to avoid talking to people in a crowd like this.

Unfortunately, the reality was very much that he was able to attend a national conference and not speak to a single person. Everyone seemed to know people already and Kit just blended into the background, like normal. Sessions came and went, meals happened and Kit managed to not have a single meaningful interaction except ordering the odd coffee.

By the third day he was done hiding and decided that he would use some of the techniques he’d practised with his coach and approach someone to initiate a chat IRL. He scouted round the room and saw one of the guys he had met at his interview. He was in the same department Kit would be working in, and seemed friendly, so he approached him with a drink in his hand. He waited for a few minutes before the guy turned round and half smiled at him. Kit opened his mouth to say hi and ask how he was finding the conference and nothing came out. The guy waited for a few seconds before nodding his head awkwardly and turning round to continue with his friend.

Kit had blown it. He slipped away, holding back tears and found a quiet bathroom at the back of the hotel. Fortunately, there was no one in there and he shot into a cubicle and closed the door behind him. His head was spinning. Who did he think he was, taking a job like this? He should have taken something in a smaller company where there were just a few people and no annual sales conference. This was too much too soon.

As he sat there, berating himself for being so stupid, he heard the door to the bathroom crash open.

‘Fucks sake!’ he heard a deep voice exclaim. The man was clearly annoyed at something and went to the taps, which he turned on. Kit tried not to breathe as the figure stomped around the bathroom trying to do something. All at once the door to the stall began to swing open. Kit froze. He’d not locked it. As it opened further Kit saw the source of the swearing. The guy was huge. 6’6 easily with huge shoulders and a thick neck. He was frantically scrubbing something off his front. Kit prayed he wouldn’t turn around and see him but it was too late. The hulk of a man looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror.

‘Hey man, help a bro out?’ He said as he saw Kit sat on the toilet.

Kit, now spotted, knew he couldn’t get out of this. He stood up and ventured out of the toilet.

‘What happen? Er I mean how happened? I mean . . . (Sigh). What did you do?’ Kit stammered

The bear turned round and the hint of a smile crossed his face, although it didn’t feel unkind. As he turned, Kit saw what was wrong. He’d split a load of marinara sauce down the front of his white shirt. Now Kit could see him fully, he saw how good looking the giant was. He was as tall as he looked with dark messy hair, pale skin with a hint of freckles across his nose and piercing blue eyes. His face was neatly covered in dense stubble which framed his face and made him look incredibly handsome. The man was furiously scrubbing at a large marinara sauce stain that had spread across his crisp white shirt only making it worse.

The man glanced around the bathroom and his eyes landed on Kit again. “Could you give me a hand with this? I’m making it worse.” he asked, his tone surprisingly friendly despite his obvious frustration at himself. Kit froze, unsure how to respond. There was something about his easy confidence and open demeanour that made Kit feel a bit braver.

“Uh, sure,” Kit replied finally, stepping out from behind the stall. Together, they worked on the stain, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t coming out. Kit bit his lip, thinking quickly. “You could borrow my sweater?,” he offered hesitantly. “It’s oversized on me so it should fit you!’ Kit’s cheeks went red as he realised what he just said. ‘Shit. Not that you’re oversized, you’re perfect obviously.’

Fortunately for Kit, he ignored his babbling and his face lit up with gratitude. “That would be amazing. Thanks, man.” Without hesitation, he began unbuttoning his ruined shirt. As he pulled it off, Kit couldn’t help but notice his muscular physique. His broad chest and shoulders were covered in a neatly trimmed but strong layer of dark hair, which trailed down to a surprisingly rounded, but muscular furry belly. Kit felt a strange, unexpected attraction stir within him. The contrast of the man’s strong, imposing build and the firm, rounded belly was surprisingly captivating, making Kit’s heart race.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Kit handed over his sweater. He promptly slipped it on, the fabric stretching taut across his chest and stomach. It fit, but only just, highlighting his muscular frame in a way that was both impressive and slightly comical. A slim line of furry flesh visible just above his waistband was distracting. “Perfect fit,” he joked with a wink, his friendly demeanour putting Kit at ease.

“Thanks, Kit,” the man mountain said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you one.” Kit managed a shy smile, feeling a strange sense of relief. As quickly as he had come into Kit’s life he was gone again before Kit could say anything.

That evening, Kit lay on his bed in the dim light of his hotel room, unable to stop thinking about the encounter. His mind kept drifting back to the sight of that muscular, rounded belly and the way it had felt to see him so close, so real. There was an undeniable magnetism there, an effortless charm that drew people in and made them feel seen. Kit had never met anyone like him before—someone so full of energy and creativity, who could transform even a mundane bathroom encounter into a moment of genuine connection.

Kit felt a strange mix of admiration and longing, but also confusion. He had known he was gay for a while, but it wasn’t something he had ever bothered to tell anyone. It didn't seem important really. But this attraction, particularly to the man’s firm, rounded belly, was new. He had never thought he could be drawn to a man with a belly, and the intensity of these feelings left him a little unsettled. As he replayed the events of the day, Kit realised that something had awakened in him, a desire to break free from his shell and experience life with the same vibrant intensity. Yet, the novelty of his attraction and the strength of Kit’s introversion, made everything feel even more complicated, leaving Kit with a mix of excitement and uncertainty that he couldn’t quite resolve.

The next morning, after very little sleep, Kit shuffled into the hotel’s breakfast area, still feeling the echoes of his turbulent thoughts from the previous night. He chose a quiet corner table, hoping to remain unnoticed. But as he picked at his food, he felt a sudden presence and looked up to see the same giant from the bathroom striding toward him with a broad smile. Without a hint of hesitation, he plonked himself down at Kit’s table, a plate heaping with scrambled eggs, bacon, and pastries in hand.

“Morning, Kit!” The man’s voice was warm and full of energy. He dug into his plate of food with gusto eating like he hadn’t eaten before, the smell of the rich breakfast filling the air. Kit realised that now was his chance to ask the guy's name. He tried to formulate the words in his head but as if the man were a mind reader he offered his own name. ‘I’m Odin by the way. I know what you’re thinking, but before you ask, my parents were hippies!’

Kit laughed at the confession. With each bite, Kit’s eyes were drawn back to the sight of Odin’s belly, the firm, rounded shape becoming even more pronounced as he continued to eat. The fabric of his shirt stretched tighter over his growing midsection, which seemed to be rounder that last night.

Fortunately, Odin didn’t really need Kit to say much as he chatted animatedly, his enthusiasm making it impossible for Kit to remain withdrawn. He was just very present in the space he occupied and seemingly at ease with everyone. He seemed to not notice Kit’s intense stares or his bumbled words, he just accepted him as he was.

As Odin piled more food onto his plate at the buffet table, and took large, hearty bites, his belly pushed outward, growing more pronounced with every helping. Kit found himself unable to look away, captivated by the way Odin’s midsection seemed to expand and stretch with the volume of food he consumed.

Despite the vast amounts of food Odin consumed, he managed to exude an infectious energy that kept Kit engaged and entertained. Odin’s effortless charm and the way his belly visibly filled out, becoming rounder and firmer, drew Kit in like a magnet. ‘Are you gonna eat that?’ Odin pointed at Kit's uneaten waffle. ‘Take it!’ Kit obliged but Odin had already reached over and taken a bite.

By the end of breakfast, Kit was unexpectedly energised, his thoughts a whirl of admiration and fascination, all thanks to Odin’s remarkable ability to connect and draw him in—even amidst the clamour of a busy buffet. His appetite sated, Odin stretched his arms high into the air in a big display of a stretch. This showed off his well developed biceps and triceps perfectly. As he made the gesture his shirt rode all the way up, exposing the whole of his hairy bloated stomach. Kit made every effort to not let his jaw drop as he got a glimpse of the full glory of his overstuffed middle. The curve of it framed by his muscular torso, his adonis belt still defined at the edges. Odin, apparently oblivious to his belly display, shook himself off and stood. ‘Right. Gotta catch a train see you next year buddy?’ And with that he'd gone leaving Kit with a mind full of questions and visuals he would no doubt be revisiting.

Chapter Two - 2019

A whole year had passed since Kit had last met Odin at the conference. In that time, Kit had spent countless moments scanning rooms at work events, hoping for another chance encounter with the man who had left such an indelible impression on him. Although he hadn't seen Odin, the experience had spurred Kit to work on his own confidence. He attended more networking events, pushed himself out of his comfort zone, and found himself slowly becoming more at ease in social situations. He would use the phrase, ‘Be more Odin’ in the moments where he lacked confidence.

That evening, at the same annual sales conference, Kit's heart nearly stopped when he finally spotted a familiar figure across the room. Odin, looking even more formidable than before, was chatting animatedly with a group of colleagues. His already impressive physique had bulked up considerably; his chest and arms were more massive, and his belly, while still firm and round, was noticeably smaller. As Kit approached, his eyes took in Odin's transformation. The man had clearly dedicated himself to work on his body, his muscles taut and defined under his fitted shirt.

Kit hesitated, his nerves getting the better of him. What if Odin didn’t remember him? What if he was just another face in a sea of conference attendees? What if he would remember him as the nerd who oggled him all through that breakfast. Doubt got the better of him, and he decided to turn away, retreating back into the crowd.

“Kit!” a familiar voice boomed behind him. Kit stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding. He turned around to see Odin striding towards him, a broad smile lighting up his face. “I thought that was you!”

“Odin,” Kit said, his voice a mix of relief and excitement. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“Of course I remember you!” Odin laughed, enveloping Kit in a hug. Kit marvelled at the sheer solidity of his friend’s body pushed up against him. As they pulled apart, Odin’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “I’ve got news. Decided to go part-time at work and pursue bodybuilding seriously. Aiming for the Olympics next year.”

Kit’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The Olympics? That’s incredible! I didn’t know body building was an Olympic sport?’

Odin laughed, a deep, resonant sound. “I'm pretty sure it is! Well, it’s a dream of mine anyway. We’ll see how far I get.” His laughter and the casual confidence in his voice were infectious, and Kit couldn’t help but smile back.

Later that night, Odin suggested they hit a nearby bar to catch up properly. As they sat down with their drinks, Kit found himself falling deeper into conversation with Odin. They talked about everything—work, life, and Odin’s rigorous training regime. Kit was in awe of Odin’s dedication and the sheer positivity he radiated.

Midway through the evening, Kit accidentally stepped on a man's foot as he moved to get another drink. The man, clearly drunk and looking for trouble, began to mock Kit loudly. “Watch it, you prick! Can’t even walk straight, huh you fucking piss stain?” Kit felt his face heat up, the familiar sting of embarrassment threatening to ruin his night. But before he could react, Odin was on his feet, towering over the douchebag with an intimidating presence.

“Back off,” Odin growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’ve had enough to drink, and you’re out of line.”

The drunk guy, suddenly realising the size and strength of the man confronting him, backed down immediately, muttering an apology before slinking away. Odin sat back down, his expression softening as he looked at Kit.

“You okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

Kit nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude and something deeper—admiration, affection, perhaps even something more. “Thanks, Odin. That meant a lot.”

Odin smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made Kit’s heart flutter. “Anytime, Kit. You’re a good guy, and nobody should make you feel less than that!’

As the night wore on, Kit found himself hopelessly in love with Odin. The way Odin had stood up for him, the ease with which he navigated life, and the sheer kindness and strength he embodied—it all combined to make Kit realise just how much this man meant to him. By the end of the night, Kit knew he was no longer just looking up to Odin; he was falling for him, deeply and irrevocably.

Chapter Three - 2020

Kit was once again eagerly anticipating the annual sales conference where he could finally meet up with his friend again to see his progress. As the year marched on however, the dreaded covid hit. The conference was cancelled and replaced with a virtual event on Zoom. Kit was both disappointed and relieved—disappointed because he wouldn’t get to see Odin in person, but relieved because he could still potentially see him, even if only on screen.

As the conference began, Kit saw Odin’s name logged on and scanned the various breakout rooms, hoping to spot Odin among the sea of faces. Finally, he found him in a room dedicated to a team-building exercise. Kit quickly joined in, his heart racing with anticipation.

The breakout room was filled with chatter as everyone tried to navigate the awkwardness of virtual icebreakers. Odin’s familiar face appeared on Kit’s screen, and Kit’s breath caught. Odin looked more muscular than ever, his shoulders and chest filling the frame impressively. His biceps bulged as he gestured animatedly, the camera catching every detail of his powerful upper body.

Kit tried to focus on the task at hand, but his eyes kept drifting back to Odin. He was desperate to ask him how the olympic dreams were going but couldn't find an opportune moment. Midway through the session, Odin stood up to grab something off-screen. As he did, his shirt lifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of his belly. Kit’s eyes widened as he saw that Odin’s belly was fully back. It still retained that firm, round shape he remembered but it was a striking difference from the toned hunk he had met last year. The sight of Odin’s much larger belly sent a thrill through Kit, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

Odin, oblivious to the effect he was having on Kit, returned to his seat, readjusting his shirt casually. He then glanced at the camera and sighed, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face.

Later on that day when zoom fatigue was truly setting in, Kit received a private message with a link to a google meet session. “Alright, Kit!’ Odin said sheepishly. ‘I guess you saw how my training has been going!’

With that, Odin stood up again and pulled his shirt up fully, revealing his sizable belly in all its hefty glory. It was much larger than last year, firm and round, jutting out proudly from his otherwise muscular frame. “This,” Odin continued with a chuckle, patting his belly, “is what happens when you mix a love for food with a bit too much fun.”

Kit’s eyes were glued to the screen, his heart pounding. Odin’s nonchalant attitude and confidence as he displayed his body were incredibly captivating. The juxtaposition of his sculpted upper body with his prominent, tight belly was both surprising and intensely arousing for Kit.

“Anyway,” Odin said, sitting back down and readjusting his shirt, “I’m trying to get back on track, but it’s a work in progress.” He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that Kit found both endearing and incredibly attractive. “I’m thinking the Olympics are maybe for another time!’

As the unscheduled breakout session ended and the pair to the main conference zoom, Kit found himself barely able to think straight. His mind kept replaying the moment when Odin’s had shown him his belly. It was so round and inviting. And so perfectly covered in hair! As the event drew to a close, Kit knew one thing for certain: his feelings for Odin had only grown stronger, and he was more determined than ever to find a way to express them. He had a plan.

Part Two here

For more of my stories click here

[shanastoryteller]

happy birthday!

can I request some more hokage's daughter or marrying rich please? or anything else Naruto!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

The first part of the exam is a joke.

Sort of literally, because thanks to Naruto the Konoha Twelve all know the real purpose of the test, but also because Sasuke is able to answer all of these questions without even cheating. He knows Naruto can too, and the only reason Sakura even passed is that her theoretical knowledge is so advanced that it carried her past her mediocre ninjutsu and truly abysmal taijutsu, so this is a walk in the park for her.

Hinata, Neji, and Shikamaru are able to answer on their own as well and everyone else had already decided on their cheating strategy beforehand. The answers might not really matter, but they have to keep up appearances here.

When they get to the Forest of Death, Naruto leads them up to the trees, then says, “I’d ask if you were followed, but I figure you’d find that insulting.”

Sasuke has no idea what she’s talking about until the air next to her shimmers and then Itachi is sitting there. “You insult me all the time.”

“Aniki?” he asks incredulously, then glares at Naruto. “I hate when you don’t tell me the whole plan.”

Sakura pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.

She shrugs. “He’s just backup. Just in case. Remember-”

“Keep an eye on Gaara, don’t let him kill any Konoha shinobi, and if he looks like he’s loosing control or if I need backup, send a clone,” Itachi says. “Are you going to tell me why you’re so worried about Gaara in particular? He’s got a high death count, but that’s not exactly unusual.”

At least she hasn’t told Itachi everything either.

“You can trust him,” Sasuke says, even though Naruto knows that, even though he wouldn’t be here if she did it.

Even with those she trusts, it’s hard for her to lay all her card on the table, to trust them with everything. In a lot of ways, she trusts her parents. But she doesn’t tell them – well, most things.

Naruto looks away guiltily, then gives a short nod, but doesn’t say anything.

Sasuke sighs. “He’s like Naruto.”

Itachi is a genius. He understands what he’s saying immediately and his eyes widen. “That’s not in his file.”

If Itachi doesn’t know, then Minato probably doesn’t either. He would have told his Anbu. Sasuke knows that Naruto had worried that he’d hid it from her deliberately.

“I could be wrong,” Naruto says, even though she’s not, even though she wouldn’t be this worried and going to this much effort if she doubted herself at all. “He’s not exactly like me though.”

“His seal,” Itachi says. “It doesn’t keep them completely separate like yours does?”

Sasuke keeps his expression relaxed from years of practice.

“Right,” she says. “So don’t try and fight him head on, okay? We’ll help you.”

Itachi presses his lips together then nods, disappearing in a swirl of leaves.

“Come on,” Sakura says, “the sooner everyone else collects a scroll, the sooner we can get to the tower ourselves.”

Naruto nods, forming the Ram and a half dozen copies of his best friend pop into existence.

Meeting up with everyone would draw too much attention to themselves and splitting up to keep an eye on the teams is asking for trouble. Luckily, Naruto’s shadow clones are able to bridge that gap.

Not that she’s supposed to know how to do those, but Sasuke has lost count of the number of Naruto’s secrets he’s keeping.  

[captain-daryn]

@writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink inspired me! I’m gonna make a post about who would be the Batfams godly parents if they were the Percy Jackson universe. (With minimal explanation and mostly based off of fanon content and my limited canon knowledge)

starting with Bruce: Athena. I think his intellect and strategy had to come from somewhere, and Athena is the goddess of strategic war. I could also see Themus, goddess of law and order, or Dike, the goddess of Justice.

Babs: Phoebe. Also referred to as the Oracle of Delphi, she sees all and knows all.

Dick: Harmonia. He is always trying to keep the peace with everyone and make them happy together it seems.

Cass: Eirene, the goddess of Peace. Also really good at keeping the peace and bringing people together.

Jason: Apollo. He is a reader and a writer, I would not put it past him to be a theater kid too. Do you see how dramatic he is?

Steph: Hermes. Child of mischief and she is witty. I could see an argument for Dionysus too.

Tim: I think Athena as well. If anyone can go head to head with Bruce’s intellect, I would say it would be Tim. Ironically I could see Hypnos or Charon and their relationship with dreams and sleep.

Duke: Apollo or Hyperion. Mostly with his powers of Light, but I could also see him being a son of Erebos because of their manipulation of the Darkness, or Nyx and her powers of the Night.

Damian: at first I would think Ares because of his arrogance and entitlement. But with his love of conservation and animals and nature I could also see him being a child of Demeter.

Alfred: even as a maiden goddess, I agree that Hestia would be Alfred’s godly parent. But I could also see a case for Ares as a wild card. He is fiercely protective of those he loves, and so is Ares. Also as a field medic for the army he could be a child of Asclepius.

some of these might be really off so I apologize! Feel free to share your thoughts as well:)

[kifkay]

class swapping winx and the specialists (+ trix)

currently brainrotting about an au where the girls are specialists and the boys are the magical ones.

specialist! Aisha:

the undisputed best fighter and leader

has a plasma weapon that can change forms — from a scimitar to a spear, from a spear to dual swords, etc.

is incredibly popular with the student body but could not be more unbothered by it

has ridden a dragon before (a rite of passage for all specialists), but prefers the company of the monsters of the deep ocean

specialist! Flora:

the pacifist <3

and is super jacked. as a treat. for me.

(just like in the og cartoon) Flora’s signature move is detaining/grappling her enemies, rather than explicitly harming them.

bolas is her weapon of choice:

but I can also see her using escrima sticks or a bo.

Saladin has a soft spot for Flora because she reminds him of Helia. He is also the one to introduce them to each other.

still as patient and kind with everyone as her og version, but more reserved/quiet. Flora is a bit of a mystery to her peers.

specialist! Stella:

the Red Fountain is THE nepo school of all time. all nobles worth their salt send their little trust fund cases there to get them a prestigious rank of a Specialist; no matter if their offsprings are actually suited for the lifestyle of a hero.

Stella’s parents enrolled her in RF in order to rehabilitate her image as an irresponsible party girl/failure of an heir to the Solari throne.

Stella retaliated by not giving a damn about her education — she even had to repeat a year due to her skipping practices.

her behavior began to improve once she was assigned to the Winx and became inspired by their heroism/courage/honor.

but it took the girls almost getting killed saving Stella’s ass on a mission, for her finally to start taking her training seriously.

her weapon of choice: a family relic — a sword.

Stella does become a proficient sword-fighter and a Specialist, being able to fend off a wyrm to save her father’s life (akin the scene where she gets her Enchantix in s3).

although controversy follows the blonde specialist, she earns sincere admiration of fellow Solarians for this act of heroism.

she chooses to pursue dragon-riding beyond the mandated RF course. the dragon that she bonds with is Synfire (wink wink).

specialist! Bloom:

in this AU, she is adopted by Hagen.

he teaches her the art of smithing magical weapons.

Bloom is less of a fighter and more of a tech/engineer. she creates magical artifacts/weapons for the girls, devises strategies and acts as their support.

she is also the healer of the group (or tries to be, this girl is still a clutz disaster)

Bloom is very idealistic, grown on legends foretold by Hagen and whatever remains of the Company of Light.

Bloom is probably equipped with top-notch weapons from head to toe, but always defaults to using whatever is laying around to defend herself. rusty pipes, bats, bricks, etc.

her dragon is a huge, scary and old thing everybody calls Fang. she calls him Kiko <3

specialist! Tecna:

loves to train in the simulation rooms.

actually a very good fighter: Tecna was taught her craft by the most rigorous Zenithian educational programs.

she mostly relies on her speed and agility in fighting.

her weapons of choice: tranquilliser guns and daggers.

devises strict exercise regiments for the rest of the girls.

Tecna stills handles any and all technology, but, unlike Timmy in the og cartoon, cannot stand being side-lined from battle.

a perfectionist.

specialist! Musa:

I see Musa as a ranged fighter, using guns & grenades & arrows.

she’s a wild card. high risk, high reward battle strategies are her bread and butter.

she also pursues dragon-riding. her dragon is nicknamed Pearl, a fast and furious creature.

a menace, honestly.

the boys:

Sky is a fairy of wind currents (since… y’know his name. but also because I like the irony of Sky having the ability to fly but yet feeling trapped and bound to his duties as a crown prince)

Riven is a witch of shadows/negative energy, like Darcy. he’s not evil though.

Brandon is a fairy of constructs. I picture his powers to be like the earth-benders from ATLA.

Timmy is the witch of technology.

Helia is a wizard, like his grandpops.

Nabu retains his powers but is a fairy instead of a warlock.

the Trix are fairies <3 they’re still evil, but in a whole different way: instead of revelling in their villainy, they are convinced of their own self-righteousness and purity of ideals. they try to usurp power of the Great Dragon because they believe they can make for better rulers, forgetting, of course, that would just make them dictators.

[binniebakery]

Thornless Rose (1/3)

Prince!Yeonjun x Princess!Fem!Reader, strangers (one-sided enemies??) to lovers, Fluff! ♡ Summary: marrying oranada's "evil" prince was not on your bingo card for the year but hey we thug it out (im not good at summaries) ♡ Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of minor character death (i swear the fic is not angst, pure fluff) more warnings as the fic goes on! ♡ A/N: Okay so this idea popped into my head, and who better fits this than yeonjun!! THIS IS JUST THE INTRO/PART ONE SO PLEASE STICK W ME HERE I PROMISE MY MAN WILL BE IN THE NEXT ONE!! this is my little valentines gift for you all!! I'm going to try to upload a part everyday until valentines! enjoy!! (always looking for feedback so pls lmk if theres anything i need to fix thanks!) ♡ Read:2/3 here! ♡

To say you were enthusiastic in the slightest to meet your so called “betrothed” would be the biggest lie to be told in your kingdom’s history. Then again, when did your opinion ever matter when it came to what you wanted? As a princess, the next in line to be queen to be exact, your kingdom always came first anyway. Your parents always did what was best for you and your citizens. “Y/n, you know your father will be most displeased if you decide to pass this opportunity. You’re his only daughter you know.” Your lady-in-waiting pleaded with a nervous smile as you sat on your bed next to the large luggage beside you, filled with clothing and necessities for your week-long trip. The thoughts of uncertainty that clouded your brain quickly were pushed aside the moment she entered your bedroom. After all, the full day trip that was ahead of you gave you plenty of time to think of what was to come. “I know but why must I be paired with someone I’ve never met. I’m sorry I know you mean well but I don’t want to be constantly reminded of my duty miss Yuri.” Sighing, you stood up and rubbed your temples in an attempt to relax yourself. Since your mother’s passing the amount of stress that has piled up in your life has you wishing you could escape it all. So when your father pulled you to his quarters a month ago for the first time since her passing to tell you that you were leaving for a week to meet your new soon-to-be husband and soon-to-be-king of your kingdom, things seemed to look up as you were a hopeless romantic yourself. Sure, you’ve never met this person, but surely he couldn’t be that awful of a husband right? Wrong. The moment you were sat down and your father mentioned the words “Prince of Oranada” your world once again went spiraling. Of course, you couldn’t have one good thing! “Look, I know there’s rumors and you may have your own assumptions but know that this is for the good of our kingdom.” Your father began as you bit your tongue for the sake of hearing his argument. “Oranada has been closed off for a decade now since the war, they keep their relations private but I’ve only heard positive things-” “Father you can’t be serious! Sure they’re wealthy and I’m sure they have wonderful combat strategies passed down from generations but have you forgotten that the prince- and pardon my language- is possibly the most spoiled and narcissistic person on this damn planet?!” You stood from your seat, hands slamming on your father’s desk. Normally it was out of place for you to lash out at anyone, especially your father but this was just the cherry on top of all that had been happening to you the past year. You have heard more than your fair share of the rumors from Oranada. The king and queen were known for keeping a neutral stance in politics, the same as your kingdom. Oranada was actually a very well-respected kingdom, they had very close connections and often chose peace. That was all fine to you except the fact that when war broke out on that side of the land, a lockdown was immediately issued and the entire kingdom was closed off.  When said lockdown was placed, surrounding kingdoms were shocked to see that the entire time the king and queen had a son. Prince Yeonjun was a secret kept from the world. Apparently, the prince was only put under light to the public when the king and queen announced that their son was now a part of their kingdom’s decision-making. Immediately the day after he was found guilty of sentencing a man to the death penalty as his first rule. The news spiraled and thus Prince Yeonjun became the tyrant son of the once respected king and queen of Oranada. Oranada decided to close their borders before an official statement could be made. Since then the kingdom has been closed off, leaving the rest of the world to create buzz around it.

“Y/n! I beg your pardon?! I know very well that you know better than to lash out in such an unruly manner.” He spoke through his teeth, attempting to remain composed yet his voice was loud and stern. “Now sit down and you’re going to allow me to finish otherwise I will send you there without any previous knowledge.” As he was the king you had no choice but to sit down, at least not without an annoyed huff. “Apologies father… please continue.” You stared at the wooden floor beneath you, the red oak wood now the most interesting thing in the world to avoid your father’s intense stare. The king sighed as he continued. “As I was saying, you may have your thoughts on the situation, or on the prince, but I promise you that I won’t just let you marry anyone for any reason. Since your mother’s death.. I realize I am getting old. You’re my only child and I need you to realize that you’re old enough now to marry. I only want the best for this kingdom and I know you do too.” You looked up to see that his eyes had softened, voice now more your father’s than the king of your kingdom. “I’ve thought about this for a while, this is our only choice. I’ve actually been able to get into connection with the king and queen themselves, and they’d be absolutely delighted to have you over and introduce you both. So I will be sending you over in about a month and you will be spending the week with your fiancé.” Your eyes widened, not only had your father pulled strings to get into contact with a kingdom that was nearly impossible to get a hold of for the past ten years but the stage was set. You were now engaged and had no voice in the matter. The following month consisted of constant pleading and back and forth with you and the king. You understood it was your duty to find a proper suitor for not just you but your kingdom. Yet, it was so unlike your father to pull the rug from under you like this. Thus here you were, 10 minutes before your departure and you wanted nothing more than to just vomit rather than go on a day-long journey across the land. “Princess, please, I promise things will go fine! After all, once you return, you may have your mind changed.” Yuri said as she kneeled before you while adjusting the arrangements of your travel dress. You could laugh at her comment, you really could. “And you expect me to ignore the fact that I could be marrying a crazy man, a murderer even?” You sighed as you patted the spot next to you for Yuri to sit. Aside from your mother, Yuri had always taken care of you and now that the queen has passed she was the only motherly figure you had left. She was only a few years older but was mature and kind, she was an older sister to you. Running her fingers through your hair in an attempt to relax you, Yuri searched mentally for a proper response. There was no convincing you really, even she knew chances were slim that things would end well.

Suddenly, a knock on your bedroom door shook you from your thinking. “M’lady, are we ready for departure?” Your father’s assistant could be heard. He had been entrusted to accompany you and Yuri on your journey. “Yes! All prepared, we’ll be down in a second!” Yuri chirped as you both immediately stood to your feet. “Just look on the bright side, be positive and things will go your way, M’lady.” She smiled endearingly as you sighed in defeat. “After all, when have I ever been wrong?” You chuckled as she placed her hands on the wooden doors of your bedroom to open them for you. Was it too late to hide under the covers like you did as a child when it stormed? “Hmm, I could think of a few times.” You poked her side jokingly as she rolled her eyes. With uncertainty and fear, you tilted your chin high, and thus your journey to Oranada began.

[russellsppttemplates]

hi, I was wondering if you could write something with one of the drivers overworking themselves and the reader sees how badly it’s effecting him and he doesn’t get to spend much time with her and his family and there all worried that he’s may burn out and asks him to take a break and is met with a bit of resistance but eventually agrees, thank you 🥰

Note: I don't have a big Carlos piece yet and I'd be happy to make this into a bigger piece if you'd like 🫶💗

Another week, another opportunity Carlos missed spending time with his family and friends. Lately, his worries got the best of him - as well as the surgery - and he worked a lot. If he wasn't working out, he was in the Sim of in the office reviewing strategies and data, leaving very little time for everyone around him. His lack of contract next year definitely occupied a good part of his mind and everyone else started noticing how much it really was taking up and how it was soon going to be too much if he didn't manage everything well.

"My love, can I talk to you for a second?", you asked as you walked inside the office, seeing his sat in the long sofa instead of at the desk, "sure, come here, cariño", he urged.

"I'm not going to bat around the bush, this is going to be straight off the bat - me and your family are concerned you're running yourself harder than you should, and of you keep going at this rate, you're going to burnout soon", you tried, rubbing his thigh softly.

He pondered his words for a bit, "I have to do all I'm doing, Y/N, if I stop, I'll fall behind - it's bad enough as it is", he argued.

"But it's not doing you any good, handsome, you're more tired, you barely spend time with your family, with me even", you argued back. You didn't want to play that card or make him feel like he was failing you, that wasn't the point, "you're not doing the things that bring you joy outside of your work, and it shows", you attempted again.

"I have to keep working, I can try and make more time for them, but I can't miss my workouts and these data analysis sessions", he reasoned.

"Handsome, I never wanted you to stop all of a sudden - and I knew you wouldn't anyway, I know who I'm dating, believe it or not", you smiled, "all I'm saying is you need to protect yourself too, have a place to just be yourself and let loose for a bit", you grabbed his hand and brought it to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

"I will try my best", Carlos stated, "I'm sorry if I've been neglecting you", he said and you shook your head.

"No worries, now come and help me because your parents are coming over for dinner!", you have him a cheeky smile, pulling him to the kitchen and away from work for the rest of the day.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[just-animaxiz]

SPOILERS FOR POTIONOMICS: BOSS FINN DLC

So far I learned about Boss Finn (Through Some of the rankings and the hang outs)....

Boss Finn used to have his friends (possibly a predatory/rowdy crew who valued winning and having everything over everyone), but when Sylvia won, his friends cut ties with him because he's deemed a failure. Finn didn't take it nicely and.. Well.. What remains of them still lingered.

When Sylvia met him again, Finn started out sombering over his failure, but then suspected Sylvia's intentions. Then he grew respect when he thought she's just sizing him up and started treating her like a teacher. In exchange, he gave her pep talks that'll help the card strategy (Which are very helpful in my experiences)...

Despite him still having the intimidating and scary attitude, Finn has a more sillier and dorky side of personality. Think of it as a college jock with a nerdy / snarky side. For example....

Boss Finn is a card collector, like a pokemon type of collector. He also likes valuable cards and prefers them to be encased in protective cases.

He also watches Reality TV and pulls so much commentary whenever he watches. Lately, when he and Sylvia became a thing, he stays quiet and wraps his arm around her. (AWWWW)

Boss Finn has electroception, which is an actual thing for Sharks. It helps predators detect natural, electric fields from those around them. For Finn, though, it helps him detect natural emotional strength, like fear and courage.

Boss Finn is very intelligent and clever to the point he spots scams, cons, and false products, as well as making his way through them without being a prime prey. For example, when Sylvia had to pay someone for "accidentally breaking their expensive phone," Finn saw the patterns of the cracks, figured the guy's manipulating Sylvia, and "persuaded" the guy to leave.

Finn's not the type to be called and referred to as a Mooch. If you're his friend, he'll treat you good!

According to him, Finn's species have a tradition of making jewelry, with the addition of their teeth as a way for connection. This is normal for shark since they lose their teeth and can grow them again. In Finn's case, one particular tooth belonged to a beloved grandmother, presumably his.

Why I said presumably? Well, according to Finn, his mom wasn't around when he's a young pup. Again - True to shark definition (Thanks Wild Kratts) because mother sharks do not have parental care and their pups are already capable of defending and hunting on their own. So in his case, he was a lone shark even when he's just very young, knowing he's already dangerous and meant to hunt.

When talking about Owl, Finn suspects that Owl is Sylvia's "secret weapon" since his dark magic patents seemed ineffective for her to back away and she received emotional strength from Owl instead. He suggests that to surpass Sylvia, he needed an owl much greater than Owl... With two functioning wings (ow!), a top hat and monocle, and laser talons (To threaten shoplifters). Also he can talk.

Despite having a snack on little people, Finn has a knack for defending little people, mainly his companions. He is on top of the food chain, knows his way through schemes and cons, and when he started redeeming, he makes sure Sylvia gets what she wants and doesn't undermine herself for other's failings or schemes.

This is why, at the end of his rank - Finn decided to be an advocate and guide to the public, keeping them safe from schemes and greedy snatchers since Rafta is still under development and the heroes and Town Guards are there to keep monsters away and collect materials.

[markrosewater]

Please know that "higher life total? try Commander" sounds frightening. Commander is nothing like Standard/Limited/etc. It shares the cards, but not the strategy, style, feeling, purpose, etc. I accept people like Commander and its popularity helps the game I like, but I will never play it. Everything I hear about it sounds unpleasant, with its "play to win but not too hard" mentality. You suggesting it in this context sounds like a continuation of WotC/parent pushing Commander over 2-player.

I was only answering it in the context of if you want to play a format that starts with a higher life total. Play whatever format you enjoy most. I don’t get a kickback from Commander. : )

[thefrontofmymind]

Baby Bug

a/n: this was supposed to be just a little drabble but it...evolved. hope you enjoy xx

SYNOPSIS: a slice of life from your pregnancy with yours and Matty's first baby

WARNINGS: pregnancy stuff (obvi), the smallest allusion to sex (what do you expect, babies have to get made somehow), epidural.

WC: 1.7k

It certainly wasn’t the perfect time for you to get pregnant. You were well on your way for a promotion at work, and Matty’s new album was just about finished and ready to be sent off, in preparation for a world tour. It wasn’t like it’d never be on the cards for you–you were both in your thirties and not flat broke so it was only a matter of convenient timing for you.

Though as you were sitting on your bathroom floor with the positive test–the fifth one you’d taken that day just to be one hundred percent sure–there was a part of it all that just felt right. There were butterflies in your stomach–and not just from the constant nausea you’d been experiencing for the past couple weeks, but excitement.

You couldn’t even think of a cute or witty way to tell Matty like you’d seen a thousand times on Instagram and Tiktok, you just needed to get it out. As soon as he came home from the studio that day you greeted him at the door with a giddy smile on your face.

“What’s up with you?” He said after giving you a gentle kiss as he took off his coat.

“You know how I’ve been sick recently?” He nodded, giving a ‘hmm’ in response. “I figured out why today…”

“Was it a bug like I said?” He laughed.

“No…It’s um-” This was it. “It’s a baby…”

He looked up at you in shock–wide eyes and a gasp. “You’re…You’re?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, as did his. “I am….”

He fell to his knees, he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he grabbed your hips and cradled your stomach.

He laughed as you felt your tshirt begin to become wet with his tears. “Oh, you’re the best kind of bug!” 

~~~

From that moment on, Matty waited on you hand and foot. If he could have it his way, you wouldn’t have to even think about housework or cooking or any other task that may float into your head–which was growing more and more cloudy by the day. Your obstetrician told you it was perfectly normal though, you liked to think it was the baby taking all your brains so they could become a supergenius–wouldn’t that be neat? Any time Matty was home, you were delegated to the sofa, with your feet up and whatever show you were currently bingeing. And as your baby grew, the more grateful you became of his efforts for you to relax. And when he wasn’t home, he was just waiting to be by your side again, doting on you as much as he could–including quenching any craving you had, food and otherwise.

“How’s the bug doing?” He said, getting comfortable next to you on the sofa.

“They’re alright, been moving non stop…I think they’re training for a boot camp or something in there…”

“Hey, you!” He wiggled down so his face was level with your ever-growing bump. “Stop giving your mum a hard time! She’s growing you, for Christ’s sake…”

You felt an extra hard kick, an answer of ‘I’ll do whatever I please, thank you’

~~~

When it began to get closer to your second trimester–and you were convinced you were showing, as deluded as you may have been–you and Matty started to think about how you were telling everyone you loved about your happy news. To you, being able to let your loved ones in on your secret and seeing their reactions was something you’d been itching for.

First was the grandparents, over a small brunch one Sunday morning. On your back patio you gave them a box to open all together, containing the pictures from your twelve week scan. Through their tears, they told you all about how ecstatic they were for you.

“A grandmother! Me!” Denise laughed. “I’m too young!” You all joined in on the laughter.

When it came to telling the band, you had more of a strategy. You decided to tell Adam and Carly first–they were parents, themselves, and probably knew all the answers to the questions you both had concerning, well, just about everything to come over the next six months–and beyond.

You’d called in at theirs one afternoon, just for a cup of tea and a catch up. It shocked just how much their son had grown within the few weeks it had been since you saw him last, he was up and walking and almost like a proper person now. And he just wouldn’t leave you alone all afternoon. Every toy he’d go to play with, he’d want to show you, when he wanted one of the muffins you’d brought–picked up from a bakery on the drive over–he wanted to share it with you.

“Someone’s got a new favourite!” Adam said after the fifth time he brought you a drawing of some nondescript blob crafted with every colour marker he had at his disposal.

“You know what they say about little kids…” You started, earning confused looks from the couple, while Matty just grinned. “They’re really good at sensing things…Like…Well…”

“Oh just say it before I do!” Matty interrupted after a brief moment of stuttering from you.

“I’m pregnant!” You finally got out. 

Carly immediately burst into tears, while congratulating you with a warm hug, then Adam did the same–sans tears.

“How far along are you?” Carly asked excitedly.

“Just thirteen weeks,” Matty answered for you, as you could hardly speak from the smile that pulled at your mouth. “We’ve only told the grandparents, apart from that, you guys are the first to know.”

You saw a glint of a tear in Adam’s eye as he went to hug Matty, and Carly asked you about pretty much everything so far, giving you some handy tips to keep in mind.

Once you got used to telling a few people, it was a cake walk. You told the rest of the band at a dinner you held. It sort of just slipped out when George asked you why you didn’t have a glass of wine like normal, the whole room erupted in congratulations.

~~~

When the time came for your twenty week scan, you were a bundle of nerves. This would be the first proper time you'd be able to see your baby in all their glory, arms and legs and ears and eyelids, the whole shebang. The technician would be checking for physical abnormalities and–if you wanted to know–the sex of the baby.

You spoke with Matty about it, and ultimately decided that you would wait for the surprise of the sex for when the bug was born. It wouldn’t really make much of a difference for you both, you didn’t have a preference and you liked the idea of not going with a stereotypical blue or pink colour scheme–and at least this way, no one would pester you to tell them, because you couldn’t.

But your spine was practically jelly as you laid on the cold bed with a metal wand being prodded as hard as humanly possible. As you saw the outline of a face and you heard the heartbeat–much stronger than at your twelve week scan a few months back. When the technician asked you both if you would like to know the sex, you felt your heart ache.

“I, uh-” You started, quietly. “I kind of want to know…” Matty let out a sigh. “Oh thank god because I want to know too!”

The technician laughed. “It’s a…drumroll please….” Matty patted his lap, making a drumroll sound. “You’re having a…boy!”

At the news you couldn’t stop yourself from bursting into tears. Your emotions had gone into overdrive in the past couple weeks, you practically cried at everything these days.

“We’re gonna have a son…” Matty said, looking at the screen with tears in his eyes. “A little boy…”

~~~

“I hope he has your hair…” You said, laying on your bed rubbing your bump in an attempt to soothe your ever-so-active baby boy so you could possibly get at least half an hour of sleep–which was a more and more rare occurrence the further you got into your pregnancy. 

Matty scoffed. “Could you imagine?”

“You’d be twins!” You laughed.

“I hope he looks like you,” he said, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side–as best he could with the bump growing out of your front. “He’d be the most beautiful baby in the world then.”

“Oh shut up, you,” you said, playfully batting his chest.

~~~

Your third trimester was a battle to say the least. With swollen feet, a sore back, and complete and utter exhaustion at every moment of the day, you were ready for your bug to make his entrance into the world. 

But he wasn’t. Your due date came and went, and you remained pregnant and irritable. You spent most of the day afterwards in bed, mostly on the verge of tears. You became so overwhelmed by the whole thing, you were so, so tired but you knew this was the most rested you’d be for months, with a newborn baby to keep you up for most of the coming nights.

You had an appointment with your obstetrician, but you hardly noticed–you were practically a zombie by then.

“I’ll book you in for an induction then?” She asked once she got a look at you in all your misery, scrolling and clicking around on her laptop. “I can do 3 days from now which would be…” She checked her calendar. “Next Tuesday. Sounds alright?”

You’d never been more animated than with your nodding. “Please…Just get this baby out of me!” You laughed.

Three days. You could feasibly do three more days if it meant you’d finally have your baby bug in your arms. You just had to stick it out.

~~~

After you were induced, your labour was shockingly quick. There was barely time for an epidural–which you had to beg the nurse to give you when she was tentative about it, given how quickly you were dilating. After only about 3 hours of active labour, your baby bug was swaddled and sleeping in a bassinet by your side.He was very fortunate, he looked exactly like his dad–who, for the record, was sleeping curled up on an old hospital chair next to his son. You looked at your boys, both sleeping peacefully, curly hair and shielded chocolate brown eyes. You couldn’t help but shed a tear at the realisation that you’d somehow gotten the most perfect life.