#<- creating this tag now just. in case lmao

[cononeillbreastingboobily]

Girl (gn) help... Do i have... Mayhaps... OCs? Now??? Again?????

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

( TOME AU ) tfw you wake up in the abyss of the game youve loved after 4 fucking years and your first thought is "where the FUCK is my HAT" (hopefully i can make this into a comic ??? or something. idk)

[4lph4kidz]

i was thinking about your dirk and hal poll and i want to mention that i think your concept for ink and iron where dirk creates hal from his reflection by enchanting a mirror is so cool 😌

thank you! hal's predicament and purpose within the canon narrative is so fascinating and i felt it was really important to find a way to explore what i find most interesting with him. i can't take full credit for the concept though i took inspiration from a few placees (one of my friends pitched the idea of the mirror accidentally dumping him onto jake's doorstop for example) but overall i think the idea is very fun and i'm really excited to write more hal stuff!!! also i'm going to take the opportunity to share this oldish doodle i found:

the mispelling of angel as angle was NOT intentional (<- dyslexia haver) but it probably explains a lot. he's pointy

[goorgeousz]

so i have a request or idea but i'm sorry to say i didn't think about her in the shower, i thought about her while i was crying lmao🫠🥲

a few days ago i read a book where the protagonist's father treated her terribly:( and her partner tells his father'don't talk to my wife like that' and they leave, he comforts her and is the best husband ever written.🥹🥹

so all I thought about was my big, angry man ✨Hotch✨ maybe they go to a family dinner for the first time and see how the reader's family treats them, belittling their work and stuff like that, until at one point they say like 'we never know how she got someone so as interesting as you Aaron' and he just explodes because cute man defends his lady and he's just grotesque and all to defend her and she's crying because she loves Hotch too much and that he saw so much in her It means a lot because she has never really felt like this. 😭🤍🤍

i hope this helps you, it felt better in my head than when i wrote it.🥹🥹♥️

i love what you do, sending you love!

xoxoxo

to be loved is to be known | aaron hotchner

to be loved is to be known | aaron hotchner

pairing: bf!aaron hotchner fem!gf!reader

summary: reader didn’t want aaron to meet her family. after one dinner he understands why.

content/tw: established relationship, crying, reader has siblings, toxic family, angst, fluffy ending, reader’s mother makes comments about her weight

word count: 3k

a/n: I absolutely loved your request, best believe I dropped all of my WIPs to write this one (sorry not sorry). I hope whatever reason you were crying about it’s over, but if it isn’t, then I hope this can warm your heart a little. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words!!! Sending much much much love, hugs and kisses!!

all hotch tag: @winyourheartemma

dividers by @uzmacchiato

masterlist <3

You weren’t hoping for a car accident. You weren’t hoping for your boyfriend’s phone to start ringing with a new and very urgent case. 

But as you sat in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car on the way to your childhood house, you couldn’t help but wish something – anything – got in the way.

It was only a few days prior when Aaron, your boyfriend of almost 7 months, decided to drop the bomb. The ‘I’ve never met your family’ bomb. And later that day, when your mother called you (like she did every Tuesday night) he was with you. He was comfortably seated on your couch, staring at you with puppy eyes as you had the weekly catch-up with your mom (which resumed in talking your ear off about whatever stupid subject was on her mind). So, you couldn’t help but offer a family dinner to introduce them to your boyfriend, to which she, for the first time in a few months, was actually happy and excited about.

The regret hit it like a truck at the exact moment he walked out your door. But there was no way of coming back now, after it was all set up. Aaron seemed actually excited about meeting your family, and you understood that this was probably a big deal for him. In general, actually. It was a big step in a relationship, you recognize. And it’s not like you weren’t ready for that step, you and him were probably living together by now. It was that you didn’t want to pop the perfectly healthy bubble you both created.

And family dinners were always… stressful.

You could’ve just explained that to him. Aaron, being the perfectly polite and respectable man that he was, would understand immediately. But you didn’t want to be the whiny immature little girl who couldn’t deal with problems. You were an adult, you paid your own bills, you had your own place. And he was the Unit Chief of the BAU, a title that on its own raised expectations. You couldn’t be the FBI bossman’s girlfriend and stress about your mom calling out your weight, or about your father criticizing your job. And if this wasn’t enough, Aaron was amazing. He was the most kind, loving and appreciative man you’ve ever met. You wanted to be good for him. So if you had to endure a few hours with your family, then be it. He was worth it.

And selfishly, you wanted to brag about dating him to your family. Yes, dad, mom. I’ve made it. Suck it.

When the day came, saying you were stressed was an understatement. Aaron sat quietly on your bed watching you change your outfit a handful of times, try at least three hairstyles and do a full face of make-up twice. He didn’t say a word about it. Unless when he complimented you, to which he did evey time.

You didn’t cry, which was always a good sign.

You held the flowers and the wine he brought while he drove. The forty-seven minutes drive rode without music. He found it strange, because you insisted on blasting your playlists even when the drive wasn’t long enough for a single song (when it happened, he always made sure to drive extra slow to make sure you sang every word and drummed every note of it).

If he noticed you shifting your position (every two minutes), or you rechecking your makeup on the rearview mirror (every red light), or you applying your lipgloss (three times and once more when you got there), he didn’t say anything.

Just before you reached the handle to open the door, he turned to you, reaching over the console to grab your hand.

“Is everything ok?” you huffed a laugh at his question, leaning over and giving him a peck on the lips.

“They are gonna fall in love with you, Aaron. Just like I did.” you said, honestly. He scanned your eyes and when he made sure you were being honest (he always knew when you lied, that’s why you came up with a method of being evasive everytime you didn’t want to tell the truth).

Squeezing your hand one last time, he stepped out of the car, quickly making his way towards your door. He took the flowers and the wine off your arms, helping you get off the seat and walking with you up the front stairs.

Before you knocked you turned to face him, a rush of courage running through your veins with being so close to the house.

“Listen, before we get in…”

Whatever you were about to confide in him got interrupted by the front door opened. Your mother stood there, with a tight smile she reserved to you, her beloved daughter.

“I thought it was you, my dear. You must be Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. It’s a pleasure finally meeting you.” she cheered, standing her hand. He gave her a polite smile.

“Just, Aaron, please. The pleasure is all mine, Ma’am.”

“Come in, please. Honey, will you please finish up the kitchen?” she asks, rushing your boyfriend inside without giving you a second glance.

Aaron chased after your eyes, worriedly, but you just dismissed him, winking and mouthing a ‘Told you.’

You quickly made your way towards the kitchen, your body remembering all too well how to walk those corridors. Just like always, you finished off dinner, making sure the dishes were done and everything was in its place while you heard the laughter of the rest of them in the living room.

“There she is, my beautiful baby girl.” your father cooed, standing up on his seat next to Aaron when you walked in and approaching you to hug you “We were just showing Aaron here your child pictures.” he spoke, laughing.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment, biting hard on your inside cheeks to keep from complaining. No mature woman would throw a tantrum over a child photo album.

“She hated pictures. We tried to collect memories, you know, Aaron?” your mom recited, showing a sequence of pictures “But she just didn’t accept it. Always grumpy, always turning away. You got yourself a hard one.” she laughed, playfully pushing his shoulder.

He stared at the pictures, somehow amazed. Your heart raced at the smile growing on his face (like it always did). He held one photo, your least favorite one. Your face was puffy with crying, your hair wildly flying everywhere. You had your mouth open like you were saying something (probably begging them to stop), and your braces shone against the flash of the camera. Your clothes were clearly not your size, your posture curved like you were trying to turn into a ball.

You hated that picture with all of your being, but your parents kept showing them to everyone who dared to stop by. Aaron held it close to your face, his eyes with nothing but found as he said

“So your eyes have always been this shiny. I’ve always wondered.” you smiled at him, the warmth of his love for you never failing to make you feel at home.

“Well, let’s eat before the food gets cold, right?” your mother announced, rushing everyone into the dining room.

It all went surprisingly well (at least as well a dinner with your parents could go).

“This is delicious, Mrs.” Aaron complimented, after your mother refilled his plate.

“Thank you, dear. Do you cook, Aaron?” she asked, dragging his name as if she was enjoying being that close to an FBI agent.

“I can get by.”

“He’s lying. Aaron is an amazing cook.” you interrupted, nudging him with a proud smile.

“We figured, right, darling?” she asked your father “I noticed the moment she started eating more. Her puffy cheeks can’t deny it! Just like when she was my baby, following me everywhere.” your mother cooed, leaning over to your chair and pinching your cheek.

For the first time that evening Aaron looked absolutely mortified. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He didn’t know where to begin. It would be funny seeing him all flabbergasted if it weren’t for the ache on your heart from your mother’s words.

Whoever said that time heals everything is full of shit.

Just like that, your father changes the subject for your teenage stories: your least favorite subject in the entire world.

“I’ll tell you what, Aaron. You’re a brave one. We knew it from the one: she’s a hard one.” your father pointed at you with his chin, smiling like he was complimenting you.

“What do you mean?” your boyfriend asked, sounding genuinely confused.

You could see right through his act. The way his knuckles went white at how hard he gripped the silverware, the muscle on his jaw flexing like he was struggling to keep tightly shut. You wanted to kiss his cheeks until his dimples started showing again.

“Oh, you know. Don’t take me the wrong way, we love our grumpy baby girl.” and then, he turned his attention to you “Take it easy on him, sweetheart. He’s a good one, you won’t want him running away. Don’t make it so hard for him.”

Aaron stepped up, interrupting before any other subject got introduced and he lost his chance. 

“Loving your daughter is the easiest and most effortless thing I’ve ever done.” he said, with a slight frown.

He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t trying to make you feel better. He was stating a fact. He was saying it so sure of himself, that made your parents seem crazy not to feel the same way.

You bit back a smile, bumping your knee against him. He did it back. ‘Thank you.’ ‘I got you.’

“Of course you say that.” your father laughed like he told an inside joke “Look at your job. Speaking of which, we want to hear everything about it.”

And then your mother started rambling about a few cases she watched on the news, asking details and making all kinds of questions, to which Aaron made sure to answer evasively enough to not break protocol, but making sure to spill some uneventful details to distract them. Your heart swelled with love every time he directed his attention towards you, asking details he “forgot” but told you in private, just to include you (on dinner with your family in your childhood home).

“I want to take a moment to appreciate you being here, Aaron.” your mother started, beaming at him “I know you are a very busy man, and I hope it didn’t mess your schedule up.”

“No, I really wanted to come. Thank you for having me.”

She just dismissed him with a wave of his hand “I can only imagine how hard it must’ve been to make time to be here with us. It’s very important for our family. I say this because our other children all also have very important jobs, and unfortunately weren’t able to make it in such short notice.” she looked at him apologetically. Aaron only stared back, once again too stunned to speak. Your mother looked back at you, throwing a wink and a lopsided smile “The perks of not having big responsibilities.” 

“That’s not…” Aaron’s speech got interrupted right away. You tried not to sigh too loudly.

“There’s something I want to do.” your father announces, clasping his hand together with an excited smile.

Your mother gasped “Do you think it’s time, my dear?”

“Absolutely, darling. Wait here, you two.”

You weren't sure what was about to happen, but you were sure it couldn’t be good.

What an euphemism.

A couple minutes later your father gets back with a champagne, sparkly and expensive. Your face falls at its sight. You bite your cheek not to cry.

Your mother stands up right next to him, and they look at you like they were about to make an oscar-winner level of speech.

“When our children were babies, we bought each of them one of those.” he lifts the bottle “We kept them with all of our love, waiting to pop them open when the moment came. And today, it's time for our final bottle. We had promotions, graduations, admissions. It makes me emotional to think how long we’ve come. When our baby was just seven, she had a dream. She wanted to find a loving and rich husband and live as a princess.” he chuckled, raising his hands in apology “Now, I do not want to jinx it, but I do think…”

“That’s so unbelievably disrespectful.” Aaron spat.

Silence.

More silence.

Your father clears his throat.

“Perdon me?” your mother tries.

“The entire evening I watched both of you mistreat her, sugarcoating it with a half-hearted compliment. It’s very clear to me that none of you value her as the woman she is, and there’s only one reason: you don’t know her. And aren’t even slightly interested in doing it." His tone was harsh and straightforward, glaring daggers at your parents. They seemed small and insignificant in front of the anger boiling over Aaron’s eyes. “It’s impressive to me how you don’t even realize how poorly you’ve been treating her. She’s the smartest, kindest, most selfless and talented woman I know, and you two have the audacity to pop up a champagne as if her biggest accomplishment in life is getting a boyfriend?” he chuckles darkly “I’m incredibly proud and sorry at the same time at how immune she is to your behavior. But I’m not, and let me say this loud and clear: I will not, under no circumstances, tolerate anyone treating my girlfriend like that. Anyone.”

He said, his eyes fulminating them. With a short nod, Aaron stood up and walked himself out the door, not waiting for anyone to lead him out. You followed suit behind him, not even sparing a glance to your parents.

The two of you drove silently all the way back to his place, without not much more than a word. Your mind raced with thoughts, your whole life passing through your mind like a movie, so many things you thought were normal. So many memories, so many feelings. You were nowhere near comprehending everything, but it was a start. You could see it more clearly now.

Aaron locked the door after you got in, and you heard him sigh.

“Listen, honey, I’m so sorry…” he interrupted himself when he heard you sniff. He touched your shoulder, aching to hold you close, but now knowing if that’s what you want “Are you crying? I apologize, it wasn’t my place…”

This time, you were the one interrupting him. You turned around and threw yourself on him, burying your face on his chest and crying your eyes out. His breathing deepened, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair.

You had no idea how much time you spent like that, but eventually he picked you up with ease and sat down on the couch with you curled up on his lap.

After a while, when your sobbing toned down to silent tears, you glanced up at him.

“Thank you, Aaron. I’ve never felt so seen in my entire life.” he held you closer, like he wanted to keep you close to his heart forever, protecting you from every possible harm.

“At first, I thought you didn’t want me to meet your family because you weren’t there yet. Relationship wise.” he began.

You pulled yourself away from his chest, still seated on his lap but shifting to face him “Not at all. I just didn’t think they deserved you.”

He gave you a pointed look “They don’t deserve you.” He stared deeply into your eyes, as if he wanted to make sure you understood “The very first thing you said to me when you first met was that you were complicated.”

Aaron took a deep breath, watching your eyes like he finally completed the puzzle. “You always seemed ready for me to leave you, always made sure to look understanding. Like you believed I would give up on you, and it would be only the right thing to do. You always mentioned, between a joke and another, that you were a problem, a burden. That you didn’t deserve me, like it isn’t the other way around.” your gaze fell to your hands, the weight of being seeing hard on you.

“Aaron…” you whispered, your voice weak from all the crying. He gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. To see every emotion he felt towards you. He kissed your chin, each of your cheeks, where you probably had tear strains. He kissed your swollen eyes, your makeup defined smudged. He kissed your forehead, your nose and your lips, taking extra long there. When he made sure you were paying attention, he pulled back and kept speaking.

“I remember thinking what on earth made someone like you believe that. The thought consumed me. I needed to know, needed to understand where all that came from. You know, profiler.” he joked, which made you laugh weakly.

“And somehow you missed the reason why I didn’t take you to meet my parents sooner.” you teased. He rolled his eyes.

“In our line of work, when we end up in a case that is, for some reason, personal to us, the protocol is to step back. Do you know why?” you shook your head “Because love can cloud your judgement. It certainly did mine.”

“Careful, agent Hotchner. You might make me think you’re in love with me or something.” you joked. He smiled, giving you another kiss.

“I am. Desperately so. And apart from what you think, it’s not difficult. I can’t imagine a life where I met you and didn’t fall in love with you. It’s the most natural thing for me.” you press your lips together to keep them from shaking, as your eyes filled with tears “Do you realize you’ve absorbed their disturbing opinions of you? You keep repeating them to yourself like a mantra, like it's a fact. I always wondered why you think so lowly of yourself. It’s now clear.”

“I hate that.”

He kissed the tip of your nose.

“ I’ll tell you what: we’re on this together.”

“On what?” you gave him a puzzling look.

“We’re breaking down those walls, brick by brick. Every single lie they made you believe was true, we’re tearing it all apart.”

“Ugh, this sounds like a hard job.” you muttered.

“It’s not. In the slightest.” he disagreed immediately “Thank you, honey. Thank you for letting me see that part of your life. Thank you for allowing me to love you, and for loving me back. You amaze me more each day, and I’ll make it my personal mission to make you see it too.” His words were low and serious, not made to impress. Made to let you know, to make you believe.

“Even if it takes your whole life?” you asked, trying to make it sound like a joke to mask your insecurity.

It would be a long way to go, but the love flooding over his eyes was a great first step. “Especially if it takes my whole life.”

[bimbroad]

long-winded ramble about melvik and the arcane fandom

I really do believe the boom in the melvik ship has nothing to do with the show (obviously since they barely interacted) and more with black fans and fans of mel ( a black female character that they, by proxy, would have to be exposed to misogynoir when trying to engage with her content) separating themselves from the anti-black fandom into more niche places where outsiders are less likely to scrutinize. especially when you consider that the ship really started gaining more traction months after the show’s end (as opposed to right after or during, which is usually the case) and I think that correlates to the online harassment of mel (and meljay) fans ramping up. if someone is looking for non-art fan content of a character, most of it is revolved around shipping since solo, non-romantic fan fiction is unpopular and un-incentivized.

anybody who’s been a fan of mel since s1 (or has scrolled more than 3 times in her tags on social media) knows that meljay, despite being one of the few actually canon ships on the show, was disparaged, minimized and scrutinized basically since its inception, with most of the onus being on Mel. as her most popular ship arguably until now, that meant if you were somebody that enjoyed mel (or meljay) you were basically getting flashbanged by vitriol to the point a lot of her content was a) people trashing her character or ship b) people fighting back against that undue backlash and coming in dead last c) actual content for the ship in question. This got significantly worse after the arcane writers took 3 percs each during the s2 writing period and validated fanon malice against her character within the show, further emboldening them. if you were a fan of mel or her most popular ship (and once again, canon relationship), you were signing up to be bombarded by bad takes (im being generous) every time you wanted to engage.

sometimes what happens in huge fandoms amongst marginalized fans, I’ve seen people exhausted of dealing with the vitriol branch off into an unlikely, unpopular ship and make that the new “safe space” and I definitely think that’s what happened here.

with that being said, there’s something very funny (/positive) about melvik now compared to its earliest iterations. a lot of early fan-content had a mean-spirited slant to their interactions that you can tell was adopted from the larger, jayvik fanon that they despised each other. there were also a fair amount of consolation prize polycule fan fiction that felt like the writers weren’t confident in mel and viktor’s relationship on its own and the only thing that glued the love triangle together was wanting to appease jayce which is…lol. now it has its own fanon (e.i. pre-canon bitter exes) and better recognizes the merit of these characters outside of a polyamorous relationship. I’ve also noticed that there seems to be an uptick in fan content (art and fan fiction) that centers mel, or just outright de-centers jayce even if there is polyamorous relationship which wasn’t as common before. i wonder how much that has to do with mel fans using the ship as an escape from the hatred in her other tags.

i think now, despite the parallels the writers either unintentionally created or failed to capitalize on, one of the biggest appeals to the ship (and fandom) is that it just embraces absurdism as a crack-ship that could’ve actually had some merit in the show if arcane wasn’t written like that™️. meljay is always diminished and those two character’s love for each other gets debated every day ending in y, but with melvik there’s no real need to prove itself. it’s a “why the hell not” ship and now that the arcane fandom at large is starting to catch onto the fact it exists, it’s very funny seeing people argue about how a relationship like that could never happen in canon, as if fandom has ever upheld the original content as something non-transformative and above individual interpretation LMAO….

anyway. all of this to say that im a #nooticer and i #nootice things

[officialdaydreamer00]

Aimless outing

in which you took your significant other out for a ride.

pairing: idia shroud x yuu/reader

contents: kinda short oneshot, lower case intended, this is just a spoonful of sugar tbh, everyone thank deuce for lending us his blastcycle, kinda ooc idia? idk, actually based on a screenshot in the game i'm playing and i love that lmao, reader is referred to as yuu, gender neutral reader and narrated with you/yours

★ the daydreamer speaks — my second entry for my tumblr older sibling @cloudcountry's sweet shroud summer 2024!! the worms are worming and i'm on a roll hehe ^-^

do i tag? yes, i do. my main idia liker: @edith-is-a-cat, others: @identity-theft-101 @keii-starz @xen-blank @loser-jpg @lemonchuu @dove-da-birb @twistwonderlanddevotee @escha-evenstar

remember to comment or reblog if you enjoy my work!!

"Yuu-shi, where are we going!?"

"Somewhere, anywhere! Does it really matter?"

a slow sunday and the lack of immediate tasks in your schedule was all you needed. and what better way to spend the day with your beloved than taking him out for a ride?

deuce was kind enough to lend you his blastcycle for this little trip of yours, wishing you good luck and all, and you've already gotten permission to go out from the headmage the day before, as much as you hated his gut. meanwhile, ortho was doing his best to get idia waiting outside of campus, and making sure he didn't second guess his desicions before you arrive.

and that led us to where you were now, going kilometres per hour as if gliding through the highway, feeling the cool wind of a chilly afternoon excitedly picking up your hair as the sun retreated behind the mountains. you loved the thrill it gave you, if the bright wide grin on your face was of any indications.

idia, on the other hand, was a bit overwhelmed. with his arms coiled tightly around your waist, hands trembling ever so slightly, he hid his face in your hair, not daring even a peek at the blurring surroundings.

"It's not a ride if you can't see what made it so fun in the first place, Idia! Just give it a try, then we can go back if you want."

idia stayed quiet, weighing his options. he could ask you to go back and return to the monotony of his life, safe yet nothing special. or, he could continue on this ride, just you and him on the road to an ambiguous destination.

he opened his eyes, widening as they laid on the most beautiful painting of dusk mother nature had drawn. white, pink, and orange blended together so harmoniously on a darkening blue canvas. rows of clouds lined the sky, bouncing around the little lights left of the sun onto the crashing waves the sea created.

his breath was taken away.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?"

idia could only muttered a soft 'yeah' as his eyes glued at picturesque scenery, taking in all he could for he wasn't sure he was going to see such a sight again. his tight grip on you slowly loosened, now only wrapping around your waist like a warm hug you would give him on chilly days.

the moon soon made its appearance as the canvas of nature was painted black, stars glimmering from beyond like diamonds in the sky. the two of you was making your way back to campus, with the blastcycle's headlights and idia's hair illuminating the road.

idia found the night sky beautiful, a lot different from dusk, but he loved it all the same.

it was a fleeting sensation of a thrill so different than what his heart was used to, but it was welcoming, a comfort even. especially when you were there with him, laughing without a care and genuinely living in the moment.

it was a memory he wished to never forget.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WIP WEDNESDAY

i was tagged by the ridiculously talented @dear-massacre—thanks alex! you can check out their delicious offering HERE.

my snippet is (yet another) random wip i started earlier today after seeing a brilliant gifset that i've queued; it's a collection of stiles scenes where he says "yes, thank you, i'm aware” to various characters. working title is 'Lickyface' lmao.

.

“And that, my furry friend, is a true fact. Pretty crazy, huh? Like, who the hell thought, let's create all these different species of creatures but make humans the only ones to have chins?” 

Derek glares, unblinking. Then flatly says, “You are so fucking weird.”

Stiles grits his teeth before glancing back up at said furry friend, praying that he reeks of the ennui and despair he feels towards that particularly familiar statement. Just in case, he schools his features into his best Insert Bored Spongebob Gif Here face, looking just to the left of the werewolves' unfairly pretty eyes for the optimum effect. 

“Yes, sourwolf, I am well aware of what the popular opinion is on yours truly, fuck you very much. Believe me, my derogatory oddball status really isn't any sort of revelation to me.” 

Whatever, he needs to focus. He hasn't picked a lock in a while but he's almost got it. It's like riding a bike, right? Just a liiiiiittle while longer and they should be inside the high school's indoor basketball court.

Illegal activity, yay! Must be a Tuesday. 

“Didn't say it was a bad thing,” Derek then answers, quietly, and Stiles thinks sorry what now?  He almost spits it out loud because seriously, is that really Derek McCunty Hale being nice to Spazboi Stilinski?

God, he really fucking hopes it's not witches.

.

tagging, play or nay: @shealynn88 @greyhavenisback @dontcallpanic @raisesomehale @hedwig221b @violetfairydust @seaweed-water @superfluffycam-blog @heavensenthale @renmackree @rosieposiepuddingnpie @evanesdust and anyone else who wants to join in and do the thing, feel free to say i tagged you xp

[azaharinflames]

Hi!

Thanks for opening your inbox to all sorts of rants and opinions. You being so nice and accepting made me want to rant about something I haven't seen someone complain about yet lol (there's joy in being a hater as long as you don't lose your mind about it.)

Mine is less about the show and more about the fanfiction. I love Bucktommy fanfic, but as a new watcher, I sometimes want to read more gen fic like the 118 as a found family or something from before Tommy came back in s7.

But it is literally impossible to find any of these fics that don't have casual, background Buck x Eddie! Even after I've filtered out every single possible tag pertaining to that ship, there will always be a background moment that implies romantic feelings between them—as if them being a couple is canon or just a given. Always without tagging anything about it, even though the "background ship" tag is right there.

And it's so infuriating, bc I'll start a really good fic about like Maddie and Buck's sibling dynamic or Buck and Bobby's relationship (which I love!) or some kind of canon-style case fic or even a fic (erroneously!) tagged "Buck & Eddie" for best friendism—and, if it isn't a Bucktommy fic, at some point Eddie and Buck will have some kind of romantic energy with each other. The worst cases are when it's just other characters being like "well of course Buck and Eddie are going to end up together at some point. Just look at them. Also Buck is Chris' dad." It's come to the point where before reading any gen fics, I click on the author—and 99% of the time, every other one of their fics is Buck x Eddie.

It's so frustrating as someone who reads a lot of fic and wants to read a lot of different kinds of fic. In an ironic way, by constantly doing this, non-Bucktommy fic writers are just pushing me back into reading ship-only fanfic.

Absolutely nuts. Anyway, thanks for listening!

Hi! Thank you for your kind words! And apologies in taking a bit to respond, I decided to take the weekend off in preparation for the upcoming chaos this week

Honestly - big time agree! There are two tags that I personally enjoy a lot, and those are Post-Lawsuit, and the Tsunami tag. I love when we get to explore the 118's dynamics more, and as a Buck girlie I love to give him angst, so those two tags are perfection.

However! It's downright rare to find a fic in those tags that isn't about Buddie. Even the ones that don't have them getting together during the story heavily imply they will, or they do any of the things you so well explained. It used to annoy me even when I shipped Buddie, but now it's made the fics impossible to read for me, which ngl, sucks.

It also annoys me when all the characters are either Well of course they were going to get together / we all had bets on when you were going to get together / their love is superior and nothing like we've ever seen, etc. Buck being painted as Chris's dad also annoys me (less when I shipped Buddie to be fully transparent, but now it truly does annoy me lmao), as well as when Chris calls him Bucky (that might be partly because of my Marvel-obsessed-ass, lol).

Another thing that annoys me heavily is when they minimise Maddie's role in Buck's life, or downright play her as the villain (which, wtf), or treat her like she's a family friend at best, and not Buck's literal family and, arguably (especially pre-Tommy) the most important person in his life. Like. Bffr. The way that Jee-Yun (and Chim, too) is highly ignored also ties into this. It's like they minimise/reduce/ignore everyone in Buck's life that adds something to it, and instead choose to give it all to Eddie, in order to fulfill their fantasy. And by doing so, they full-on ignore reality and twist it in a way that Buddie seems co-dependent, when they're not.

And I will say I wouldn't mind it if it stayed in fanon. The issue here is that this world created in fanfiction is then, somehow, being taken as the actual canon. That's why so many Bobs are so mad whenever the show doesn't play into their Buddie is co-dependent and raising a child together, and everyone is in love with their love.

Anyway. I got sidetracked a tiny bit, sorry! Long story short: I heavily agree with you. I won't judge the writers for putting whatever they want in their stories, but it is a bit frustrating to go into a fic that does not have romance (or pre-relationship) tagged or indicated at any point, to then be hit by it. Or, more recently, to start reading a Bucktommy fic and realise midway through that it is endgame Buddie (it is especially upsetting if the fic also has Tommy bashing and it does not say that in the tags or summary)

Tagging correctly is important!

Anywho, sorry for this long rant, lol. I hope to have helped with my reply, and thank you for finding this blog a safe enough space to rant <3

[mcytblrsource]

If I wanted to start a zine, how would I go about doing so?

Hi! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to infodump about zines, this might get a little long ;) There are many different ways to make a zine, but the way we often see in fandom right now follows this structure:

Interest check: Explain what your zine is about, have people hear about it, and collect information on the kind of things people would want to see or make in your zine (usually through a google form, but it can also be a tumblr poll or anything else like that)

Mod Applications: Assemble your team! Social media mod, formatting mod, art/writing mod, etc. This is usually done through a google form. Honestly, when selecting your mods, having people you *trust* is what's most important. So while having someone with experience is good, have people you know you can rely on, like your friends, even if they don't have previous experience.

Contributor Applications: Also done through a google form; get people who want to create through the zine to submit examples of their work so you can choose which ones get in the zine.

Creation Period: All the contributors you selected make their pieces! And then you, or the person in charge, assemble everything together.

Release: If you publish the zine online for free, you can have the pdf available to download on itch.io. If you want to print it and sell it, that's a whole different subject that I'm not very knowledgeable about tbh.

The most important part when your zine is starting out is to get the word out there! Make a tumblr blog specifically for the zine, make lots of posts reminding people of when the interest check/mod applications/contributor applications are opening or closing, when you have contributors make posts to introduce them, etc. I find that having visuals accompanying your posts helps a lot, especially if you have a strong visual identity already, it helps people remember your zine. You can also invite guest contributors; people who you invite into the zine as opposed to having them apply (usually creators you like), so they can help share contributors applications.

I also have a lot to say about things to watch out for when making the zine, mostly time management and participant wrangling, but this is supposed to answer the question "how to get started" so I don't want it to get too long lmao. Just make sure to give yourself enough time to do things like looking through form answers or setting up things. Deadlines are great to keep things moving but remember they are self imposed, so don't make it impossible for yourself!

In terms of resources to help you out, I can redirect you towards the Hermit-a-day streamathon panel both mods of this blog were on to discuss everything that goes into making a zine. I know that on the Artbook to Zinethologies streamathon they discussed zine-making, although since I haven't watched it I don't know into how much detail they go.

And don't be afraid to reach out to other zine mods! We're usually more than happy to chat and give advice (case in point here), sometimes even get roped into modding another zine ;) Beware, it becomes an addiction.

HOWEVER with all that said there are many different ways to run a zine!! You can decide to keep it smaller scale and exclusive to friends or people you know, you can skip the applications and have it open to everyone, have people just send in finished pieces, ... the world is your oyster, really. I recommend to go check out @mcyt-flashzine, which helps people run their own mini-zines!

I hope all this all helps, and good luck on your zine making journey! Make sure to tag us in your posts ;)

[writingwisterias]

How would the different eras of Leon act if he knows he shouldn’t be with the reader (ada wong typa shit) but he can’t escape from her like whenever something happens (like maybe she spotted arias’s wedding in vendetta ?) she is deff a part of it and he keeps running into the reader 🙏 i love your work btw you’re the reason why i keep refreshing the tag 💪💜

Hiii

I love this idea lmao and thank you! You are so sweet - I hope you have a great day <3

Warnings: None Fem! reader

RE2:

Post the events of the game let's say he sees you around the training grounds

After the events you both went through at a young age I think he finds it easier to blame you for letting him fall for Ada's tricks

It grows heated and hurts you that he treats you like that around the camp

Krasuer actually makes you sparing partners on purpose hoping that you would hone in your anger and focus on creating your skills

It doesn't work

RE4R:

He sees you as he's running around but almost plays it off as just a figment of his imagination

It would a similar reaction to Ada in the game but let's say he actually is hung up you and has feelings then he would slip up more

He'll expose these feelings more often than showing you he's angry.

I don't think however you would use this to your advantage but find it cute that he is struggling

He's almost drawn to be at your side more than he is to focus on the mission. Ashley's presence is a reminder of what he's meant to be doing

Infinite Darkness:

Grows frustrated at first, like how are you here again

At this point I think he'll just assume the universe thinks you are meant to be together

Again is more likely to draw in close and team up in a way where he's not just straight up being used

He's been there done that

Better at hiding his feelings but does slip up a few times

Damnation:

He's beginning to get used to it at this point, I don't think he would really get mad

I think again it's just surprising how you are always there as a thing in his life and he never seems to know you very well

Playful banter, enough to get through the mission

Kinda accepts what you do as he's just used to it at this point so there's no tension or arguments on that front

He assumes you are hear on orders for someone. Doesn't agree to it but if you don't stop him from doing his job he wont stop you doing yours

RE6:

He surprised you are here, like he just wasn't expecting you to be involved with this plot scheme or that it was that large you would have an interest in it

Smiles to himself every time you talk or do something to help him. He's smitten at this point.

The dynamic has shifted dramatically at this point, there is hidden feelings waiting to be exposed or spoken about.

But when do either of you have the time?

It's just forever left unspoken

It would be easier to deal with it like this but at the end of the day it's too obvious now

The final 'goodbye' is the hardest

Vendetta:

So I think he would actually get annoyed but because he's not in the right frame of mind to deal with the emotions that follow from seeing you

He would provide information for the others about you if you are involved.

When he actually sees you he's silent. Not really talking to you all that much.

After the mission though when he's starting to get in a better mindset I think he will attempt to reach out

Maybe for some stability after all you have been there through literally everything

It could progress romantically but I think that's just what you were both expecting at this point if it does happen.

Soulmates in a way

Death Island:

You are either currently fucking or have fucked recently

Lingering touches when he does see you, its playful and the other don't really know how to react

He's not surprised that you are somehow involved and will stick by your side during the fights just in case

You both meet up together of course

At this point you just accept each others company and allows it to develop in whatever way it does

If it works out then great. If not then until next time.

[sprinkler-ashes]

gold rush // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which aaron hotchner hates social media – unless it’s yours. inspired by gold rush by taylor swift.

words: 2.2k

warnings: hotch is down bad, curse words, a bit of pining and jealousy

a/n: i love the idea of the bau being active on social media + hotch having no idea what any online terms mean lmao anyways i just really like this little fic. happy reading!!

i don’t like slow motion, double vision in rose blush

i don't like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush

everybody wants you

but i don’t like a gold rush

Aaron Hotchner is not a fan of social media.

Maybe it’s because of his job. He knows that posting too much information online could sometimes lead to bad situations because there are always people lurking – it’s impossible to know who, exactly, is watching online. Or maybe it’s because he simply didn’t grow up with it. It didn’t really matter – he just knows he does not like using it.

Penelope had shown him quite a bit of Twitter after several BAU cases started trending while the cases were actively going on, even somehow agreeing to let her set him up an account. Aaron didn’t really want an account, but it was almost impossible to say no to Penelope Garcia who Aaron genuinely liked a lot.

Facebook was another one that he had. He didn’t even have a profile picture and only harbored a small amount of friends – entirely family. The site was strictly used to keep up with Jessica since she was an avid Facebook user. If he couldn’t get a hold of her through her phone, he would send her a message on Facebook’s messaging platform, Messenger. She typically responded that way.

The last social media account Aaron had was a new one. Or, well, new-ish. It had just been created a little over a month ago. He didn’t want the account, but Penelope wasn’t the one who asked him to get an account that time.

It was you. And saying no to you was even harder than saying no to Penelope.

A group photo was taken at Rossi’s last month during a get-together after finishing a case. Penelope went straight to Instagram to post it, tagging everyone except Aaron who wasn’t shy to say he didn’t have an account. He was the only one – even Rossi had made an account.

“You’re not on Instagram?” You’d asked Aaron only moments after that.

He shook his head. “I don’t really use social media.”

You frowned like you were in deep thought before turning to him again with a smile. “We should change that.”

All it took was a good minute, maybe even less than that, and one of your signature smiles to convince him to let you help him create an Instagram profile.

He accumulated a small amount of followers since then, which he had to approve, of course, as Aaron made sure his account was set to private – mainly family, some friends, and the team. However, that was as far as it went. He was still figuring out the app, but completely forgot about his new account due to his busy life.

Except for now.

It’s a slow Friday at work – mainly just a day spent catching up on paperwork – and Aaron never really complains on days like this. Yes, it’s usually boring, but having a day without a case means he actually gets to see his son at the end of the day, so it’s a win for him.

But a slow day creates boredom, especially when he’s actually ahead on paperwork. Aaron can’t recall the last time he was this bored at work – probably because he usually has something to do – but when his eyes ghost over the time on his expensive watch, he has to resist letting out a sigh of agitation because, somehow, there are still four more hours left in the workday.

Aaron puts the pen he’s holding down and moves the file he’s in the process of reviewing. He grabs his phone from one of the drawers in his desk and turns it on. The lock screen, which is his favorite photo of Jack, lights up before he enters his passcode.

He does errand-like things at first, including responding to a couple of texts, checking his personal email, and even spending a minute, or five, on Twitter, not that he would ever admit that to Penelope.

Eyeing the colorful app with a white outline of a camera, he hesitantly opens Instagram, still not really used to it considering it’s been over a month since the last time he was on it. He waits a second for it to load up until a photo appears on his feed from JJ, who posted a picture of Henry and Will before she left for work.

jj_jareau: My two favorite guys <3

Aaron knows that the symbol on the end of her caption is supposed to represent a heart because you often send the same symbol in the BAU group chat. He’s not sure why you never use actual emoticons – he’s never asked you – but he associates the symbol with you.

Not that he’s associating hearts with you specifically. Or overanalyzing all your texts in the group chat. Of course not, it’s just because you use it often. That’s all.

When Aaron tries to scroll, he accidentally presses on your username that was showing up in the preview of the comments, sending him straight to your own Instagram page.

He’s about to click the back arrow above your profile picture that he’s assuming will take him back to his feed, but Aaron can’t stop himself from glancing over your profile. Your page is filled with photos from moments in your life that go back years.

Looking up from his phone, he can see you from his chair as the blinds in his office are currently open. You’re chatting with Spencer who’s sitting across from you, a smile on your face as you continuously glance from him and back over to your computer screen where you’re typing, making sure Spencer knows you’re still listening to whatever bizarre fact he’s probably ranting about.

Aaron looks back down to his phone. He’s never been on your page, nor have your posts ever shown up on his feed during the rare times he’s actively gone on the app. It almost feels too personal – like he’s not supposed to see the side of you he doesn’t work with.

He carefully presses on the last post you made. It’s a post from only one day ago, but you’re not in any of the seven photos you’ve posted, which makes him frown with a tinge of disappointment.

Your caption reads, September photo dump, with a couple emoticons.

Wondering what the hell a photo dump is, Aaron looks through the set of pictures again. Everything is random. They range from a sunset to a picture of a meal you must’ve eaten at some point during the month of September, which just passed, and even one of Emily’s cat.

He scrolls down to the next post from three days ago. This time, you’ve only posted one picture and luckily for him, you’re actually in it.

You’re sitting at a dinner table, head resting gently on your hand with a sweet smile while your other hand is gently holding a glass of what – Aaron brings the phone closer to his face without knowing he can actually just zoom in – appears to be champagne.

It only takes him a few seconds after admiring how you look in the photo to wonder about who’s on the other side of it.

Aaron doesn’t know who took the photo and is getting to see you smile like that, but he does know that he wishes it was him because you’re just so damn pretty.

The man is pretty sure he would quite literally melt down to the ground if you looked at him like that.

He’s attempting to push these thoughts to the back of his head as he prepares to scroll to the next post. Aaron is well aware of the fact he shouldn’t be thinking about you in any way that isn’t strictly platonic. He is your boss and even aside from that, the two of you are not only co-workers, but friends.

Friends, he reminds himself. That’s all.

But as he scrolls to the next post, every thought of friendship leaves his body.

It’s a photo taken with the flash on from exactly a week ago, last Friday night, of you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope in what appears to be a club that Aaron can’t say recognizes. You’re standing on the end, your arm snaked around Emily’s waist with your body turned towards the camera while mid-laugh.

The black dress you’re wearing hugs every inch of your body perfectly – you’re showing more skin in the photo than Aaron has ever seen out of you. He’s seen you dressed up before – even seen you in person at clubs himself – but nothing like this before. Ever.

Much needed girls’ night out, your caption says.

Aaron’s not even sure he’s still breathing when he swipes to the second, and last, picture in the post.

This time, it’s only you. You’re still in the same dress, looking at the camera with a sultry smile. You’re not in the club this time. Aaron can’t tell where you are, but that doesn’t really matter because you’re looking straight at the camera with one of the most attractive looks he’s ever seen – it almost feels like you’re looking directly at him.

prentiss_emily: Baddest bitch in the bureau

yourusername: @ emily_prentiss Only behind you ofc

Though he knows she means it in an endearing way, Aaron doesn’t want to call you a bitch, but Emily’s comment on your post technically isn’t a lie. Unfortunately, he also can't seem to figure out what "ofc" means.

A part of him feels guilty. He knows he can’t have you, yet he’s going through your Instagram right now imagining a thousand what-if scenarios, a tinge of jealousy running through his veins at the idea of you ever looking at anyone the way you’re looking at the camera in your photos.

Aaron spends so much time trying to convince himself he doesn’t feel the way he does for you because there are so many reasons why he shouldn’t have the feelings he does. He can’t think of a scenario where you can be his nor can he think of a world in which you feel the same.

So, after he looks at this photo for another couple of seconds, he’s finally going to close out the app and forget about the way you look in that dress.

He can’t get the chance to do that because the door to his office is opening abruptly, startling him to the point where he drops his phone onto his desk.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, hands fumbling to lock his phone so your Instagram will go away.

There you are, mouth open to say something until you notice him fumbling with his phone.

A sheepish look appears on your face. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.”

“It’s fine,” he says, hoping his voice is even and doesn’t scream: Hello, I just looked through your Instagram. “What do you need?” He lays his phone down – it’s finally locked – and looks up at you, trying to appear like he was actually doing something.

“Oh, I don’t need anything. Reid and I are going to try that new place that just opened up down the street for lunch. I was wondering if you wanted me to grab you something.”

“Do you have a menu?” He asks.

“Yeah, give me a second. I’ll text it to you,” you tell him.

You’re pulling your phone out of the pocket of your pants and if Aaron had been paying attention and not pretending like he was working, he would’ve seen the way you glanced up at him, back to your phone, then back to him, a giddy smile on your face.

You do as you told him you would and send him the menu. “Take your time looking over it. Just text me what you want within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks. I’ll look over it in a minute.”

Aaron really does go back to work this time, his hands moving to pick up the file he moved earlier. He hears the door open and assumes you’re on your way out of the door, but you don’t leave yet.

“Oh! Before I go,” you say, your body out the door and your hand lingering on the outside knob of his office door. He looks up at you, pen in hand. “Thanks for the like on Instagram.”

Aaron thinks his heart has stopped upon hearing those words. Before he can even say anything, you shut the door, and you’re making your way back to where Spencer is still sitting.

He swallows hard, closes the file, and sets it away once again. His fingers frantically type in his passcode, and Instagram immediately pops up, still open from when he tried to turn his phone off.

To Aaron’s horror, he sees the Instagram heart that’s used to like photos filled with red and seemingly glaring at him. It was too late to unlike it now. You’d obviously already gotten the notification.

Meanwhile, as Aaron is mentally panicking, you’re whipping out your phone again to send another text. This time to Emily who is currently in a meeting.

I will never doubt you again – Operation post-a-thirst-trap worked!

[cloveroctobers]

~Kevin Atwater domestic headcanons!~

A/N: Remember that time I said seeing this man triggered me back to that time I had a stalker in college that favored him? Not nearly as handsome (I think it’s just the eyes) or LH’s fault. Guess my brain learned how to finally separate the two lmao! Anyways!! This is just something light to start off with since the Chicago pd tag is basically a ghost town but I’m thinking about writing a fic (oc) about Kevin at some point if anyone’s interested? Hinted at it in my Dante fic but let’s see how this goes first 😆

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Kevin Atwater strongly believed in leaving work talk outside of the house, whether it be at his spot or yours. Especially if it was a tough case, he learned to let it go at the front door before he entered the home because his home life already carried enough weight in it from the moment he had to run it at a young age.

He wants home life to feel safe and separate from all the tough things his career could be so him and his significant other will create rituals together: music in the mornings to set the tone for the start of their days, music in the evening time to wind down together getting ready for bed or after dinner with him rubbing your feet or you massaging his shoulders on the couch with his head buried against your chest.

Kevin was big on slow Sundays. It was basically a reset without him having to watch those reels you always sent him through DM. It was something he naturally did, clean up the house, and make his “famous” pancakes. He’s never a fan of mini pancakes, loved to make huge stacks with crispy edges, extra vanilla and a pinch of cinnamon.

He loved breakfast since it was always the easiest thing to make or get when the funds ran low and he had to make sure his siblings were fed. Breakfast for dinner was big too and even if you weren’t a breakfast person, you appreciated it anyways.

Kevin’s a deep listener, even when you think he’s not listening and his eyes maybe on something else, he is. You’ll never have to repeat yourself twice or ask him what he thought or if he heard you because he always has a response for you.

If it’s something emotional, he’ll definitely bring it back up gently to make sure you’re doing alright and make sure that you feel seen.

Acts of service. Acts of service. Acts of service baby! Your garbage disposal from your sink is acting funny? Bet your ass he’s telling you to hold off on calling some rip off service because hes watched videos on how to repair stuff and figured it out himself around his own place—if he didn’t then he definitely knew somebody that could fix it for a reasonable price. He’ll show up with his tool kit all grins and you’re shaking your head, leading him to the problem while also having refreshments for him while he worked.

Ofc you would try to talk him out of it mentioning that new final destination movie is coming out and that you didn’t want him to be part of the cast.

“Don’t ever count me out, girl.” He says to you with a smirk after he managed to fix the problem, leaning forward as if he was going to kiss you just to snatch some fruit off the charcuterie board, “Now I take my payment in praise or in fours.”

He winks but widens his eyes when you get down on your knees instead.

If you have to stop and get gas and it’s been awhile since he’s driven your car—especially at night—he tells you to wait and that he’s just getting off work so he’ll meet you there to fill it up for you. You may or may not be the kind of person that waits until the last minute to get gas. In this economy?! I don’t blame you! Which leads to him always checking your tank before he leaves your place, so he knows when to keep it full FOR you.

You definitely pick up things that make you think of him and leave them at your place to surprise him with the next time he’s over.

“For real?” Kevin questions holding up the item with a smirk, “You got me slippers and to leave here? I think you luh me.”

It was mainly to keep him from stealing yours to run (knowing they weren’t his size!) outside in.

He finds it too cute that you’re thinking about him even when he’s not around.

If he’s had a long day based on a case, since he’s not one to really talk about them once at home, you’ll just burry your face in his chest—or his shoulder if you’re a stallion!—giving him a tight embrace he needs.

Might even teach him about self-care, take time out for himself and see what works best for him.

When you officially give him a key to your place wrapped in a fancy box, Kevin is all wide grins. “Oh so things done got serious, huh?” Which makes you roll your eyes as he squeezed your hand from across the table, thanking you as this is a new step in your relationship and only makes it feel closer to your future together.

Out doing weekend outings? He’s along for the ride, not complaining too much until it cuts into the time that it’s time to eat. And you almost passed out in one of the stores trying to blame it on not having enough water or your vitamins earlier. “Don’t ever do that again. Spending can wait, taking care of yourself can’t.”

Which you mocked him for taking a page out of your own book as you tore up some food from the drive thru in the passenger side you both stopped at not that long ago, although your heart warmed at his love for you.

Until he tried to steal some fries! Which meant elbows were thrown.

First time meeting his siblings? On accident. Through FaceTime, you were looking up directions on his phone when Kevin’s brother jordan called and you answered.

“Who are you?” He asked while Vinessa butted her head in beside the boy also asking, “And why do you have our brother’s phone?”

Jordan pushed her to the side which earned him a slap, Kevin didn’t even have to be looking at the phone to know that the two were ready to Duke it out, his authority coming into the mix as he told them to knock that mess off.

He eventually pulled over to the side after you introduced yourself properly and you handed him the phone just for you to hear, “How did you manage to bag that?”

Which made you snicker while Kevin looked at his baby brother like he lost his mind, “Alright now this is where I leave you since you really on my line acting like you don’t got no sense.”

“Your brother is a dime piece himself.” You called out, making Kevin smile over at you, teeth pressing into his bottom lip, before he grinned back at Jordan.

“Hear that, man? Sounds like mutual feelings.”

“Man, whatever big bird.”

Vinessa cuts in, “Don’t talk to him like that!”

“That’s right, Vin. Have my back!”

The adoration was pure in your eyes as you watched your boyfriend interact with his younger siblings.

He’s the definition of a partner, not just a boyfriend.

Grocery trips done hand in hand unless it was a big trip, then he’s pushing the carriage and wants to do as less trips as possible bringing them into the house.

Show up to your events even if he’s bone tired. You’ll drive him back to his place, letting him get a nap in so he doesn’t fall asleep at the wheel. He sleeps like a starfish and don’t let yourself get trapped underneath him because otherwise you’re not going anywhere for awhile!

Let’s you fall asleep on him anywhere and will slip a bonnet on your head if it’s longer than a nap and if you’re at home.

You make his own beard oil that’s better than what they have at the barber shop but regardless you still hype him up whenever he gets a fresh shape up.

He’s not possessive but does get quiet when someone tries to lightly flirt with you right in front of his face. Is the type to cage you in with his legs if you’re seated next to each other on bar stools and regular seated tables, body fully turned towards you. He’ll observe it all and you’ll brush it off putting your attention back on him.

“You’re mine, right?” He’ll whisper to you, locking his arms over your shoulders from behind as you’re finishing up your night routine.

You peck his hand, “Always.”

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[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hi! I'm alive!

I have not been very active or responsive here for months; I've chosen to (/ in some cases had to) prioritize other things of late. But I'm still here! I'll share some of the things I've been up to under the readmore, but I'll start with this:

I'm really sorry to folks whose asks have gone unanswered.

I will try to get through some this month; but I won't manage to get through them all. If you are super in need of an answer, dm or send another ask letting me know and I'll make sure to prioritize yours <3

You can also try searching through my blog for answers; see this post for some of my most-used tags so you can search by topic.

Stuff I've been up to:

This past fall I was over the moon to be invited into several wonderful projects!

Two involved liturgy collections; one won't be out till Advent, but the other thing is A Sanctified Art's "Everything in Between" Lenten worship materials — I wrote a combined Maundy Thursday / Good Friday service for the collection.

The other project was a book coming out in spring 2026 on ministry with disabled youth. I almost couldn't believe it when I got an email inviting me to write a chapter of an anthology that will also hold the writings of real authors I've read! I wrote my chapter on "cripping" youth ministry by:

universalizing access (no more accomodations only for youth who have managed to get a diagnosis — everyone deserves to have their needs met);

integrating "crip genius / disabled wisdom" (drawing especially from Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha's writing);

and incorporating what Laverne Cox calls possibility models into lesson plans — for the purposes of youth ministry, this would include figures from scripture, across (Christian & other) history, and into the present who model possibilities beyond the absent or miserable futures society lays out for disabled, BIPOC, queer, and otherwise marginalized persons.

I'm also seeking to.....go back to school!

I'm a scholar at heart and I miss the chance to research and discuss in an academic community. I actually just got my rejection letter from Emory's PhD in religion program last week :(

I'm not surprised — it's an incredibly competitive program and I don't have the experience under my belt that some applicants likely do. Still. Sigh. I have big tangled Feelings about it, but I'll probably save those for my other more personal blog, @a-queer-seminarian. But I just submitted my application for Emory's Candler School of Religion's Doctor of Ministry program! which is a much less intense doctorate than a PhD, made for ministers to complete while continuing their usual work.

Also, its abbreviation is DMin, pronounced Demon. Which I'm sure I'll keep making jokes about long past everyone in my life finds it funny lmao

Finally, I've been working hard at working...less hard.

I've been in Autistic burnout since at least seminary, but still have pushed myself to get a certain amount of things done every month. This past year or so, my bodymind has been teaching me the hard lesson that I just. can't. do that anymore.

I've been trying to practice what I preach, to embrace crip time — for crip time is sabbath time is God's time. And we truly are beloved; we don't need to "produce" a damn thing to earn that love. Part of being in solidarity, of acknowledging our interdependence with God, humans, and the created world, is letting ourselves be cared for. Finding small creative ways to show our care.

In 2024 I finally did things I just "never got around to" before, like trying out new medications (wellbutrin & trazodone my beloved <3) and getting my labs done (turns out my body doesn't make its own folate so now I get it in pill form and I think it's really helped my energy and mood! Aaand I've been going to therapy. And trying to refocus on what matters to me most.

Okay that's enough. How are y'all? Where are you finding community? What sources of hope, wisdom, creativity have you found most helpful in a time such as this?

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— BUTTERFLIES AND HURRICANES

SUMMARY : Colt takes you out for a ride…

PAIRING : colt seavers x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, jokes and fun times, unprotected piv, fingering, handjob, maybe a kissing kink (idk if that's a thing)

WORD COUNT : 6.7k

A/N : title is a muse song. this is part of the @alphabetquest challenge — car sex! (heheh, I have a type) <333 the car has to be a 2022 ford shelby gt500 since it's the first image that popped up when I searched up Mustang in Canva, lmao. ALSO IM NOT DEAD YET AND THIS ISNT DEAN... I WAS SCARED TO WRITE ABOUT A NEW CHARACTER BUT I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT RYAN GOSLING SO IDK WHY THIS IS LONG SORRY xx

All you could think of was Colt Seavers.

You felt embarrassed with the way he occupied your mind, but it was impossible for you not to fall fast and hard for him. He was funny and sweet and romantic and caring and genuine. He made you feel young and careless, but not in a way that would bite you in the ass once you returned to Earth. 

You knew you could dive headfirst into him and his gorgeous blue eyes, and never be afraid that you've wasted your time.

To clear things up, you only felt embarrassed because you needed to get work done. Here you were, staring at the empty script that was waiting to be written, and all you could think of was Colt Seavers. You were embarrassed because, suddenly, all your stories, all your words, and all your characters contained an aspect of him. 

Your relationship with Colt wasn't a secret, but the director was expecting certain specific details and plots from you. And he'd know Colt was the reason for the change in your writing, and everyone would know, and Colt would know. 

And you weren't sure you were ready for that. Even if you were going steady with him, already shared intimate moments, and it was becoming the norm to wake up beside him. Even if he was effortlessly sweet, and perfect for creating a happily-ever-after with.

He was magical. Refreshing. Good. 

He was like a crisp sunshine in the early morning, never scalding, never freezing. Perfect for catching some vitamin… D… No… don't do that, body. 

You reached out for the cup of coffee beside your keyboard and lifted it up to your lips. You knew the caffeine wouldn't ease your overactive mind, but it would probably help you focus that energy on a specific task. You hoped very hard that it would be the case, and that you'd write something that make the director, and everyone else on set happy.

"Uh, you, whatever your name is, that's mine."

You stopped drinking and looked behind you, at Colt. He was trying to look serious. You resisted a smile as you licked some coffee from you lips. You looked back at the cup and rotated it to find his name written in black ink.

"I was just making sure it wasn't poisoned," you lied, allowing yourself to smile briefly. You turned around in your chair and held the cup out for him—your smile gone. "It's safe to drink."

"Oh, great," Colt beamed, and crossed the space to take the cup from you. "Wow, someone's boss thinks I'm special enough to save from poisoning." 

You stared up at him as he took a few sips, and you admire him, his glowing skin and… beard… remniscing about what it felt like all over your body when he'd kiss you. He stared at you as he swallowed his final sip of the warm caffeine, and you knew he was waiting for you to say something, but you kind of have nothing to say now. 

He's so adorable. And beautiful. And you should focus on writing, but the way he's staring down at you is making your heart race, and he bit his lip to hide his grin, and all you can think of… is how much you want him. 

"Maybe I should learn the name of the beautiful, brave, and selfless woman who almost died for me, possibly," he started up again, dramatic and very much flirty now. He held out his hand, you took it, and shook it once. You were about to say your name, but he set the cup back down on the table. 

You followed the movement, barley began looking back at him, wondering what he was up to, when he tugged you up out of your chair. You squealed as you crashed against his hard body and the smooth leather of his F1 suit. He released your hand to wrap his arms tightly around your waist, and hold you close to his chest. 

You looked up and found him smiling already. Colt kicked your chair out of the way and walked you back into the desk, but he didn't lift you up on it. He just kept you trapped between his warm body and the edge of the table, which dug into the bottom of your ass. 

"So… I can kiss you, right?" He wondered, staring down at your lips. He licked his own. "We're at that… you know, stage…? Where we do that?" The more he talked, the bigger you smiled, especially since you knew he was trying to actcasual. 

"We've fucked before, like… twenty times, I'm not counting, but I'm pretty sure it's around that much," you rambled. You definitely wanted a kiss from him, but he always managed to make your face hot and your heart beat at an insane rhythm. You didn't even know what the point of your sentence was anymore, but it caught him off guard and distracted him. 

"Fucked? That's a bit aggressive," he commented quietly, leaning closer. His hands squeezed your hips and you flattened your palms on his chest. Your breaths became heavy, as did his—quick and warm against your tingling lips. "I'd say it was more like making-"

"No, don't. I don't wanna hear it said that way." 

"But it was…" he bit his lip and looked into your eyes. "…like… that…" He lifted his hand and brushed your hair away, his hand rested against your jawline and your cheeks heated up. 

"Sometimes," you replied quietly, trying to maintain the playfulness. You shrugged. "There were those time where you bit me really hard and-"

He snorted. 

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he warned and began to dip down. You held your breath, suddenly, almost virginally, the anticipation of his kiss made you shamefully needy. He stopped, almost touching your lips, teasing you, so you felt his breath tickle your lips. 

Then, when you were at the apotheosis of hot, horny, and embarrassed, his lips pressed against yours. Your nerves and neurons exploded at his touch. The coarse hair of his beard and mustache tickled you, but that was what reminded you who you were kissing. 

Colt's hand clenched in your hair and his arm tightened around your waist to pull you impossibly close. Your knees weakened when he traced your lips with his warm tongue. You clung to the leather covering his body, breathed shakily against his mouth, and he tilted his face to deepen the kiss. 

His mouth met yours again, and his tongue was in your mouth this time. You tasted the sweetness of coffee in him and he tasted that sweetness in you. You felt lightheaded and your arousal skyrocketed, and you worsened it by sitting up on the desk and pulling his hips against yours. You moaned softly against his mouth at the contact, he groaned in response, and nibbled on your lip. 

Colt gently pulled your hair and dragged his mouth down your neck, his teeth and tongue followed, all the way down to your clavicle. Your hands moved upwards into his hair, threading through to tug at as you panted for air. Your body felt sensitive and fiery against his mouth, and his body, and his hands. 

He rolled his hips against yours, slid his hand down the back of your thigh to press precisely against your covered clit, all with his hand still tight in your hair. 

"Colt!" 

His name being shouted through the two-way radio ripped the veil of lust and contentment that kept you blind to reality. Colt grunted in irritation against your neck and brought his mouth back up to yours, ignoring the stunt coordinator. 

"Where are you? We're starting in five minutes!" You gently pushed Colt's chest and smiled against his greedy mouth. 

"We have five minutes," he mumbled against your lips. You laughed softly and kissed him firmly as a goodbye, but his warm and calloused hands sneaked beneath your pink blouse. You drew your mouth away from his, despite his complaints, and he licked his lips as he gazed down at you playfully. 

His hand untangled from your hair, he cupped your cheek instead, and slowly began leaning forward, waiting for you to stop him. 

"Colt," you whispered, placing your finger on his lips to stop him from diving back in. "You should go," you tried not to laugh. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and leaned forward to kiss you deeply, then placed two soft kisses against your lips. "I'll see you later," you promised breathlessly.

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, he his teeth sank into his own as if contemplating kissing you again. But he ended up conceding, "yeah, okay."

Colt udjusted his suit at the crotch area, then ran his fingers through his tousled hair. His natural hair was growing out so only the tips remained bleached from… being Tom Ryder's stuntman... You had a hard time believing his life story was anything but fiction, except there was plenty of evidence proving otherwise. 

"Wait, where will I see you?" He stopped and leaned against the door. 

"Here. I'll take you to- well, it's a surprise," you grinned playfully. "But it's a gift for me, mostly." You batted your lashes innocently at him. Colt shook his head and laughed, finally heading out. 

"Wait, your coffee!"

You were touching up the script, deleting and rewriting lines of dialogue and adding a few important moments that needed to be acted out, all while smiling to yourself as you recalled the way Colt subtly flirted with you any chance he got while standing behind the director. 

It was nice to steal a few moments with him when the opportunity presented itself. With Colt being who he is, he pretty much managed to make nearly every moment with you romantic to some extent. Sometimes it was seductive smiles with a hint of playfulness, long and innocent touches with undertones of sensuality. But maybe what you loved most was that he always managed to say something cute, romantic, sweet, funny, sexy, or dorky in a way that most definitely made you blush, somehow. 

You weren't going to lie, you were a little excited for tonight. So excited, in fact, that you quickly stopped by the hotel you were staying at to shower and put on a burgundy sundress rather than the jeans and blouse you'd been wearing earlier. 

There was a soft knock on your trailer and the door quietly opened, but Colt had already given himself away with a quiet hiss and an, "ouch." 

You shut your laptop while you grinned, ready to laugh at him for whatever he'd clumsily done—since he didn't often do anything clumsy on purpose. 

He must have gotten the same ideas as you, and gone back to his room to get cleaned up and put something clean on. And he had a small orange moon cactus in his hand; the other hand, he was inspecting carefully. He'd pricked himself. 

When he looked up at you, he was as stunned as you were. He dropped his hand after blindly kicking the door shut behind him, and slowly dragged his eyes down your body before returning to your face. 

"Wow, you look very pretty." Had the air not blown the scent of his cologne rushing to you, you would have been able to repsond with something as sweet and earnest as his compliment.

"So do you," you murmured, sounding dazed, unfortunately. Still, his cheeks turned bright and he laughed while holding the plant out for you to take. You took it from him carefully. 

"I know you said you hated flowers because they reminded you of funerals and hospitalisation, so I got you a plant instead," Colt explained. You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you hearing that out loud, and coming from him, it was more funny. 

He joined in and chuckled softly, seeming a little unsure. 

"That's a pretty decent loophole," you sighed, and lifted the cactus so it was at eye-level. "It's cute." He shoved his hands into his jeans, stepped closer and looked down at it with you. 

"I named it Shirley," he informed you. 

"That's more adorable." Him, the fact that he named it, the name? All of it?

You stopped at the winding road that your friend had told you about. Had she not taken you and your two other friends to see the place, for a picnic date, you'd have never wanted to see Colt in your car, driving the way you've always dreamt of doing.

But here he was, well, he was in the passenger seat, but still. You were going to ask him to drive your car down to… nowhere in particular, just to live vicariously through him. 

"What's here? A serial killer cabin?" He looked over at you, a smile playing on his lips. Your eyes skimmed over his gorgeous face, his beauty somehow enhanced with the glow of the vibrant sunset pouring over his face. 

"I have a request," you started, watching him lean in close to you, listening intently for your words. He smelled so clean and soft and good—no, that's not the point. "Drive my car, you can stop whenever you want."

"That's… you want me to drive for any particular reason?" Colt looked down the empty road and then over at you, his blue eyes sparkled flirtatiously. 

Your heart began to beat swiftly again and your face heated up. "You know… When I was a kid, I wanted to be a NASCAR driver, and writing about an F1 driver is just… you know, do this for me?" 

"Really? You wanted to be a NASCAR driver?" He was on the verge of bursting out into laughter, but he also looked genuinely surprised at your confession, so you looked away and shrugged. 

"To be fair, I wanted to be a palaeontologist, elementary teacher, and fashion designer, too. Those option would've been… more awesome than… this," you mumbled, looking at the road as the sun hid behind seemingly endless hills and trees. 

"I think you're awesome right now," he whispered. You turned to him again, and became flustered by the softness on his gaze and his words. Your stomach somersaulted, he chewed on his lip, and you could've kisses him hard if your heart would've allowed you to relax.

"Shut up," you muttered bashfully. "I mean, thank you. What? Stop it," you looked away from him and he snickered. 

"I'll do it," he told you, giving you and your warm face a small break. He started to get out, and you fumbled with the seatbelt to meet him at the front of your car, where it was warmer compared to the cool breeze surrounding you and Colt. "If you wanna stop just tell me. Also, I'm gonna need a kiss," he teased and shrugged casually. 

You rolled your eyes, but how could you deny him? The air had been sexually charged the whole ride here, and now that you were stepping closer, you felt like you were being fused to him. Like a massive chemical reaction would occur as soon as you touched him. 

You closed the distance between you and him, on your tip-toes. Your hands gripped the colourful green and blue plaid shirt he was wearing, and his hands held your hips, clenching slightly. He waited for you, this time, as your breath mingled with his. 

The touch of your lips to his made you breathless instantly, and what was meant to have been an innocent and quick kiss became another make out session. With you on the hot hood of your car, with his fingers tangled in your hair, with yours buried in his hair, and his other sneaky hand lifting your dress higher and higher. 

"Colt," you breathed his name out softly. 

He released you instantly and licked the taste of your mouth from his lips. "Right, be professional. Totally."

"Not too professional," you smiled and slid down the hood with his help. "Anyway," you looked ahead and the darkening sky, "It's no Nürburgring, but we're not here to check my car's features. What I did check was the traction, it's all good… so…" You clicked your tongue and gave him a thumbs up, which he returned with a grin. 

You quickly entered your car and sat in the passenger seat, but when he entered the driver's side, his head hit the top of the roof and his thick thighs squeezed beneath the steering wheel. 

"My God… you are tiny," he murmured playfully, adjusting the seat and the mirrors. You snorted, slightly embarrassed. But as you watched him, your wondered if this was a good idea. You wanted to jump him and—no, please. "Alright, how attached are you to this car?" He joked, putting his seatbelt on while looking over at you. 

Colt was hot enough as it was, but being there in the car with him as he smoothly sped down the road, making sharp turns smoother than you could've done—you couldn't tell if your heart was racing because of the speed or because of how hot he looked beside you. 

You liked the way he handled your car, the way his hands moved adeptly over the steering wheel, the way his thighs became taut with every press on the brake and gas pedal. There was surely nothing more sexy than the sight of him concentrated and cautious, all at once, as he drove at speeds higher than you were brave enough for. 

He turned into an empty field and drove straight a fair distance into the tall-ish grass, at first. He was testing the ground, feeling it beneath the wheels as he turned and braked before moving the car in a circle, once and twice, then stopped. 

His chest was heaving and he looked alluringy flushed—you imagined that you probably looked similar to him. He relaxed against the seat, rested his hands on his thighs, and looked over at you with an exhilarated smile. He looked beautiful and unexpectedly relaxed. 

You smiled back, dazed and… aroused.

"Wow, that was…. you're… amazing," you sighed, looking out at the night sky, a slim orange line of light remained on the horizon. You were too embarrassed by your desire for him, but the darkening sky was distraction enough. For a few moments, the bright star that shined near the moon on the darkest side of the sky captured your attention.

"Not as amazing as you," he exhaled. His hand wrapped around yours and you turned back to him with a blush you wanted to hide extremely bad. 

What you really wanted most was for the warm throb between your legs to stop, so the moment could remain sweet and funny, but the way he looked at you, and the way his hand felt in yours was making you feel like you were on the verge of combusting. 

You pressed your thighs together and squeezed his hand subconsciously. Before you could attempt to brush it off as nothing, Colt leaned forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss was fueled by adrenaline and by the suffocating lust that had been engulfing you both since the morning. 

Typically, you would have pulled away to crack a joke and ease the sexual tension, but you were done with trying to stay away from him. There was no reason to continue being professional now that you were off set. 

So instead, you unbuckled your belt and then removed his own—more carefully, so it wouldn't slap painfully against his body. His mouth chased yours anyway and it made your stomach flip. You cupped his face to guide his mouth back to yours, ignoring the course tickle of his beard against your soft palms, and kissed him roughly. 

He moaned softly into your mouth, surprised, but kissed you back just as desperately. 

You felt him blindly turn the car off, and once he did, he turned to you fully, and quickly started to lift your dress up your legs. Your heart pounded in your ears while he squeezed your thighs. His teeth nipped at your lips, your soft gasp gave his tongue access to slip into your mouth, and slide against yours. 

Heat pooled between your legs, dampening your underwear. His warm hand was gripping your hip beneath your dress, so tight it made you moan as he expertly licked into your mouth. It was maddening and you only pulled away to regain your wits, to catch your breath, to see what he was currently feeling or thinking about the whole… You and him thing. In the car. 

"Do you wanna…?" He asked before you could, with his cheeks burnt red with a blush. You felt as hot and coloured as he looked, despite the chill of the night. You pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness between your legs soaking your underwear, which only worsened by staring at the flushed and wrecked state of him. "We don't have to, it's up to you." 

Instead of responding, you shoved your dress upwards, and Colt leered at you as you lifted your hips to pull your underwear down your legs. He made you feel, possibly, hotter than you ever felt before, and made you act far more daring than you thought yourself capable of. You would never have had car sex in the middle of an empty field with anyone. 

But everything always felt right with Colt. 

"Are you sure?" He murmured, lips parting as he watched you climb over the middle and into his lap. He swallowed and carefully placed his hands on your thighs, grateful that you'd kept your dress lifted as you slid over to him. 

"Very sure," you reassured him, pecking his parted lips once. 

"Okay, cool, cool," he said, voice slightly shaky. You leaned close to him, holding the seat with one hand and trying to find the handle beneath the seat to recline it with the other.

Colt's mouth was on your neck instantly, beard scratching your sensitive skin, his playful and passionate mouth worked like heat conduction with your body. You'd held the handle, distracted by his lips and tongue against your pulse, it was when he pulled away that you mischievously pulled the lever. 

"Oh, fuck!" He exclaimed, attempting to sit up straight against the sudden movement. You tried to balance in his lap despite his shock and then he laughed, melting against the seat with his hands in his hair.

"Sorry, I thought it'd be funny," you laughed apologetically, playing with the button of his jeans. You leaned over him and brushed his wavy hair away from his blue eyes. 

"That was really mean," he chuckled. You apologised again, but he was laughing with you, and shifting beneath you until he was comfortable. His hands were back on your thighs and moving up higher, reigniting a heat between your legs. "Are you comfortable?" He whispered, watching your face as your eyes danced over his contently. 

"Mm-hmm," you nodded, caressing his cheek, just above his beard. "Are you comfortable?" Colt leaned into your touch and you tried, with one hand, to unbottom his shirt, only slightly exasperated by the sight of a white t-shirt underneath. 

You turned the light on above you have clearer sight of the buttons. He looked way prettier, even under the yellow light, like honey or gold. 

"It's kinda hot," was all he said. You smiled, felt his thighs become tense beneath you, and so you started to undo the buttons with both hands to get him out of the warm layers faster. "Can I… touch you?" He asked quietly, brushing his thumbs along your hipbones. 

"You are touching me," you teased, trying to focus on popping each button of his shirt out, and doing the same to his jeans. He shifted beneath you and flexed his hands impatiently on your thighs. 

"Can I touch you… everywhere else?" He was being playful, too, now, but if only he knew that the way he was touching you now was somehow turning you on. 

"If you get all this clothes off, then yeah," you replied, shoving the warm flannel over his broad shoulders. He chuckled and lifted himself up to shrug the warmest layer off his shoulders, and took the opportunity to kiss you. Your hands clenched the hem of his white t-shirt. You could feel his muscles tightening as he attempted to smoothly remove and throw his shirt in the back seat. 

You laughed against his mouth when he yanked it off his wrist impatiently, and eagerly began to pull his t-shirt up his muscled torso yourself. Your hands moved flat against his warm skin, feeling every hard and defined plane of his body with curious intensity. Colt smiled and hummed softly at the cool touch of your hands, his hips wiggled beneath you, urging you to go faster. When his shirt was high enough, he barley allowed your lips to separate, and instantly returned to kissing you. 

You threw the shirt in the back, brought one of your hands back down to his jeans, and carefully pressed your hand against his dick. He groaned against your mouth and his hips bucked upwards into your palm. A pulse shot through your clit at the sound and you gently kept rubbing your palm against him to draw more sounds from him and buried your fingers in his soft hair. 

"Please," he mumbled against your lips, pulling at your clothes, demanding that you be bare above him. Your stomach clenched and you let him drag your dress up your body, so you were sitting on his lap only in your bra. 

You breathed heavily, your skin flushed and prickled as he stared longingly at you. He pulled you closer with his hands on your hips, blunt nails pressing into your flesh. 

You leaned into him as he settled back into the reclined seat with your body as close to his as possible. 

"Kiss me again," he whispered, his baby blue eyes glued to your mouth, begging for it to be on his again while your hands wandered between your bodies to get rid of his pants. 

You dipped down to meet his greedy mouth with a singular firm kiss. 

"Colt," you murmured over his kiss-swollen lips, having half the mind to beg him to finally touch you. Except your breath hitched when he fervently leaned forward to capture your mouth with his, licked gently along your lip as an indication of his intentions, and carefully slipped his tongue into the rift made by your surprise. 

You could feel how slick you were, your neediness thrummed through your cunt and tingled across your skin wherever his body touched yours. 

You mindfully began unzipping his jeans as he devoured your mouth with so much passion your head felt light and your hearing was muffled by your heartbeat. 

His lips moved over yours hotly and his warm hands pressed tightly against the skin of your back. He adeptly undid your bra, threw it in the backseat as well, and ghosted his lips down your throat and sternum to kiss your breasts. 

You brought your hand inside his jeans, feeling the warm, thick hardness of his dick against your teasing hand over his briefs. He groaned and bit gently at your breast, and his hands trailed down your sides roughly. 

You couldn't take it, the feeling of his hot mouth, and the aching need between your legs, and the tingling sensation on your sensitive body following the touch of his skin. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, urging his mouth away from your spit-slick nipples. He grunted at the sharp tug of his waves when he ignored you, released your breast with a pop, and gazed up at you endearingly dazed. 

"What?" He asked with a playful smile, trying to hide the fact that he was more than enjoying teasing you. You tugged at his hair again, with enough force to draw a deep groan from him, and your cheeks flared up.

He bit his lip when you shoved your hand inside his underwear, your fingertips traced the length of him, feeling him throb and twitch. Colt whined quietly, his brows drawn together, teeth buried impossibly deep into his already kiss-swollen lip. You clenched around nothing and circled your thumb around the leaking tip of his cock. He shakily exhaled your name and lifted his hips into your hand. 

"I need you, Colt."

"Fuck… yeah, me too," he panted and started shoving his briefs and jeans down before you even got your hand out. You laughed softly at his enthusiasm and lifted your knee up to the padded console next to the seat to give him more space. 

You kissed him again, felt his smug smile against your lips when you tenderly cupped his face in your hands. He followed your mouth when you pulled away to drag your mouth down his neck and collar bone. Your hands moved down his warm skin, exploring what you could of his fit body. You licked at his skin, the dips of his throat, and grazed his collarbone with your teeth. 

Your hearing was entirely focused on his heavy breathing and breathy words. You felt his fingers move along the inside of your thigh and you sucked gently at his chest, then bit down on the hard muscle. 

"Shit," he grunted, and pressed his hand between your legs. His palm rested against your clit and his fingers circled your entranced. You gasped as your stomach summersaulted and heat spread through your body instantaneously. "You're so wet," he murmured, dragging his glistening fingers up to your clit. 

You lifted yourself up shakily, hands flat on his chest, and watched him. His blue eyes first swept over your face as he circled your clit, your thighs shook as you kept yourself up. He bit his lip before allowing his gaze to fall to your breasts and finally, between your legs where his fingers were busy. He looked so attractive beneath you, chest heaving and face flushed pink. 

You shuddered when he pressed two fingers into you, slowly and shallowly pulling them out and back into you, and never going as deep as you wanted him to be. Still, he curled his fingers inside you and your breath hitched. 

He kept the same rhythm and you flushed as the slowness somehow amplified the lubric sound of his fingers entering you. Your lips parted, shaky breaths slipped from between them, and your eyes fell shut for a few moments before opening again to criticise him. "You're driving me crazy, Colt."

"You look hot when I do that," he admitted unapologetically, and gave you a smirk. You squirmed and clenched around his fingers, embarrassed by his earnestness. And then he continued to tease you, watching your hips move and your body tremble when his thumb brushed against your clit just perfectly. 

"Stop that," you scolded, holding his wrist shortly despite the new layer of slick that dripped around his hand. He hummed softly and buried his fingers deeper into you. 

"What?" He asked with a grin, moving his fingers faster and pressing his thumb harder against your clit. The sound of your wetness nearly mortified you. "Is that better?" He asked softly, but still teasingly. Your stomach felt like it was free-falling and your thighs twitched, wanting to shut around his hand as your pleasure increased exponentially. 

"Please, just…" You leaned back slightly and dragged your nails gently along his abs. Through your hazey eyes you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gently slid your loose fist over him. 

"I heard you," Colt mumbled jokingly, jerking his hips into your hand. He gasped when you slid your palm over his wet tip and squeezed your hand downwards to spread his precum over the smooth and hot skin of his cock. He laughed and pulled his fingers from inside you. "Right, I was just- ah, fuck," he grunted, slightly thrown by the unexpected sensation of your thumb rubbing beneath the head of his cock repeatedly when your slid your hand upwards. 

"You're such a fucking dork," you mumbled, stopping your own tormenting touch to guide his cock between your legs. 

"Uh, yeah, and you're into that." He bit his lip and stared into your eyes, which glittered with amusement at his words. You watched him suspiciously and smiled a little. "I mean, there's also my six pack and when you see me naked, you start-" You interrupted him by sinking down on him, he choked on his words, and moaned with you as you slowly dropped yourself on him. You stretched around him, feeling deliciously full and hot with him throbbing inside you.

Colt gripped your hips tightly once you were fully seated on him. You smirked at the facial expression he made when you clenched around him in your own smug excitement and languidly lifted yourself up with your hands on his chest. 

"Let's keep kissing," he proposed breathlessly, bringing one of his hands up your shoulder, behind your neck, and into your hair to pull you forward. You couldn't help laughing at him, but allowed him to bring you down. His soft mouth parted slightly, ready for yours, making your stomach tingle.

His beard tickled your chin and lips when your lips collided, his tongue swiped over your teeth, then slid into your mouth to move against yours.

You lifted yourself up cautiously, nose brushing against his when you pulled away to find a comfortable position and rhythm. But Colt was serious about kissing you and lifted his head to reattach his lips to yours, and thrusted upwards into you.

You moaned into the kiss, forced to hover above him with his steel grip on your hip, and his hand clenched in your hair to keep your mouth firmly against his. He inched you up his body, hips angled slightly, and rolled his upwards experimentally, pushing his cock against your gspot and making it so you clit rubbed against him.

His name tumbling from your lips was muffled by his hungry mouth against yours, his tongue tasting as deep and thoroughly as he could despite the clash of teeth. He fucked you harder, panting and breathing against your lips to catch his breath before kissing you with so much passion you knew your lips would be sensitive in either a few hours or by tomorrow. 

"You feel so good, fuck," he grunted against your mouth and sank his teeth into your lip. You whined at the sting, but your stomach fluttered at his words. He licked your lip soothingly and let his calloused hands desperately wander over your body, occasionally flexing his hands over your skin. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter around him.

"Colt, I-" you whimpered, moving your mouth away from his to bury your face in his neck, feeling the unabated force of your orgasm approaching. His hips stuttered when you sucked softly at his throat and he breathed out your name. You inhaled the scent of him, the shampoo, and body wash, and shaving cream nearly masked by the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. 

"Please… wanna see you," he exhaled the words unevenly, nuzzling against the side of your face. His breaths and grunts against your ear made you shiver and tighten around him. 

You were too stupefied and saturated with pleasure to lift yourself up, but when his fingers drove into the flesh of your hips and his thrusts became sloppy, all you wanted was to watch him fall apart beneath you. 

You lifted your flushed face and steadied your forearms on his broad shoulders, meeting his glossy blue eyes, his rosy cheeks above his beard. His warm breath fanned over your face and you stopped seeing sense in continuing to edge yourself on him. 

Pleasure washed over you, his name and praises dropped from your lips in desperate sobs. You clamped down and pulsed around him as you came, trying to fuck yourself slower on him to drag your orgasm out. He cursed against your open mouth and pleasure contorted his handsome face. 

His hips snapped upwards and he held your hips down as he twitched and spilled inside you. He grunted your name and helped you ride out your orgasm with him. You were out of breath and your thighs were burning from the position you were in, but your body was tingling with so much numbing pleasure, that you didn't care.

You watched him become more gentle again as he came down from his high with you, that sweet smile returned and his adoring blue eyes turned softer. It made your head spin, the way he looked at you. And right now, you could see all the jokes and loving words taking shape in his mind as he caught his breath.

You took his face in your hands, pressing tender kisses over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and anywhere you could reach. He was smiling the entire time, almost triumphantly, but he looked more shy than ever.

"Was it that good?" He teased anyway, smirking playfully. 

"I don't like you," you lied, dropping your hands to his chest.

"Liar," he accused, pressing your hips closer to him. Your sensitive core jolted and he stifled a groan, sensitive and soft inside you.

Colt sat up, breathing slowly against your lips, but he didn't kiss you this time. His fingers ghosted gently down your back and rested on your waist. "Wanna eat some burritos?"

You stared down at him, his blue eyes shining from his orgasm, his face flushed and alive from the afterglow, his wavy hair a sexy mess, and his lips red and plush. 

You bit your lip and looked back up into his eyes. He looked wrecked and… happy. It was endearing. It caused a fiery heat to blaze up your chest to your cheeks. "Y-yeah, sounds, uh, that sounds nice."

He stared at you and you stared back, wondering if you'd given yourself away; the fact that you really liked him. 

"What?" He smiled, looking at you curiously. 

"What?" You shrugged, flustered and pretending that you didn't just realise that you really really liked him. Okay, you loved him. "I said yes."

"Hmm," he tilted his head, eyes moving slowly over your face. You tensed in his grasp and blazed with embarrassment. Run away. You lifted yourself off him, ignoring the dribble of cum slipping down your thighs and over his cock. 

You laughed shyly to yourself, slipping away into the passenger seat, where you started to feel the ache in your body as you relaxed. You tried to ignore him, and listened only to him readjusting his jeans and briefs. 

"What were you thinking just then?" He wondered, leaning over to take your chin in his hand and force you to gaze into his stupidly pretty face. 

"Absolutely not!" 

"What? Please, tell me," he begged. You shrugged and kissed his palm before turning away to retrieve your dress and underwear. "I'll kiss you," he offered. 

"You'll kiss me either way," you smiled, pulling your underwear up your legs. 

"That's true. You're lips are very soft and they taste like roses and they feel like roses, too, and your mouth is always minty. Do you eat?" He rambled, his gaze focused on your mouth. "I mean, of course you eat, I was just wondering-"

"Okay, I'll tell you," you cut him off, your heart began racing at just the prospect. He perked up, but you just couldn't fold. "As soon as we get those burritos! Buckle up, cowboy, I'm hungry." 

He deflated slightly, but then he smirked, watching you put your seatbelt on. "Can I at least put my shirt back on first?"

"No, I think I can see a little better in the dark when you're shirtless," you jested, dreamily trailing your hand down his bare chest. His muscles became taut under your touch and he released a breathy laugh. 

"I'm driving," he reminded you quietly. 

You brought your hand up to his jaw and smiled, scratching gently at his beard. "Whatever," you shrugged, "my car, my rules."

You were about to move your hand away, but he took your hand in his, pressed your small palm into his cheek, and looked at you through his lashes. "I think we should kiss."

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[minyard-05]

Golden Update

tag list: @kevinsdsy @ashestoashes7 @you-know-i-get-itt @thesunrisecourt @mostlyvoid-partiallyflowers @heartstringgs @mqmneee @millportisntreal @bsideheart

hi everybody!!! it's me, orpheus, author of this little fic that i didnt think would be anything and then part 1 ended up being almost 40k 😂. i started this on july 13th 2024, and now it's exactly 8 months later (YIKES) so now's as good a time as any to post this

i just wanted to give you all a heads up because i'm making some changes to how this whole project is going to be structured moving forward. the plan to cover aaron's entire life from age 13 up until his trial [possibly his 21st birthday] is very much still in place but as you can see this is a series now!! that's because i have some smaller pieces/oneshots some of which belong in the Golden universe but aren't from aaron's perspective (e.g my sebastian moore oneshot thats currently the only other thing in this series lol)

additionally, i want to also make sure that in case i can't finish it for whatever reason, i'll still be able to end the project in a good ending place rather than potentially leaving cliffhangers. so you also may have noticed that this fic, Golden, has ended. 12/12 chapters, we're DONE.

....except aaron's still 13. so what i'm doing is dividing his life into about 6 seperate timeslots, each of which will have their own fic covering it. this was obviously the California section, next we'll have Columbia and aaron's time in highschool, then his freshman year of college, and his sophomore year, which will most likely all be split up into Foxhole Court, Raven King, and King's Men, a la the canon trilogy.

this is going to make it a lot easier for me to navigate my own work, and will also help you guys as readers because you can jump in to any part of the story and just read what you want to. if you have notifications on for this fic, i'd recommend turning them on for the series as well, that way you'll get email updates about everything. my tumblr tag list will remain the same unless anybody asks to be added/removed.

that just about covers everything, if you have any questions then let me know, and finally THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! this fic has been such a fun ride for me i love aaron i love writing about him and creating all of these intricate little details about his life while i have creative liberty to do whatever i want with him lmao. to everybody's who's been here since day one, i love you all so much you've been absolutely amazing to write for, i have read every single comment on this fic and loved every single one. thank you one million times over for reading and sticking with me despite my inconsistent posting

it means the world that so many of you have loved reading this fic as much as i have loved writing it, i hope you'll join me for the next installment and i hope i can do both aaron and you justice <33333

thank you again and tune in next time for Columbia and (groan) high school, in Twilight.

love, orpheus :P

PS: if you've read Golden and you haven't read my lovely friend gia's EXCEPTIONAL sebastian & aaron fic then u are wasting your time!!! go give it a read it's fantastic and i couldntve asked for a better gift <33

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62627260

[just-a-carrot]

Day 17.

Have you ever created any OW characters in another game? Or in a Picrew?

HAVE. I EVER.

Of course, everyone already knows this... but this doesn't mean I can't talk about it again for the gazillionth time LOL Obviously, I have created almost all of the chars in DD2!

Though I started out just making Iggy (Arisen) and Genzou (pawn), for my third playthrough once I figured out how to use a save mod, I was able to start new games creating more chars, that I then was able to summon into my main game, so I created a Bucks (Arisen) and Orlam (pawn) game and a Cecil (Arisen) and Gidget (pawn) game and brought both Orlam and Gidget over to have a full party of four. The easiest way to show most of them (and their silly dynamics) off is through this vid:

For those not in the know (e.g., those that only started following me after my initial few months of constant DD2-obsessed posting), in DD2, your pawns have an affection meter, and once they get high enough, they'll start blushing and smiling at the Arisen before quickly looking away if you look towards them, it's literally the cutest thing ever and probably what really made my obsession grow to new heights after I saw Genzou doing that to Iggy (though we won't talk about how my heart got crushed into smithereens after the ending LKDJFALKDF):

I subsequently made them all again when I started playing Dragon's Dogma Online (which is also what I'm still playing now and have been since September LMAO). In DDON I didn't have have to use any sort of workaround with save mods to create the whole crew as you automatically can unlock 2 more pawns throughout the course of the game, so it was only a matter of progressing in the story (and getting lots of BO in the case of Gidget to unlock them).

I am literally obsessed with the Dragon's Dogma universe and games and have basically an entire OW AU in my head for it (and now if only Capcom would give us a DLC... WEEP). If you ever want to go back through all my videos, gifs, and pictures of my DD2 stuff, it's all in my #carrot plays dd2 tag.

To make this post not ENTIRELY about DD2, I have also created the OW chars in Picrews from time to time. Though the only one that I can seem find now is this cute set that I made back around when I was working on Arc 2 (so they're quite old LOL hence why Gidget's looks like that, but they're still sweet):

They're from this Picrew!

I must not have saved any of the other ones I've made... or they're on my unorganized phone albums somewhere. I do remember specifically trying to find plus-sized Picrews to make Genzou at some point because I was annoyed I could never make him look right in a lot of the ones I tried lol.