#and is thwarted by a combination

[wonder-worker]

"Hannes Kleineke cites Dean and Canons of Windsor MS XI.B.6, rot. 2, for evidence of a deathbed codicil by Edward IV concerning a dispute between the knights and canons of Windsor"

remember when I said that we don't know what Edward IV's deathbed codicils were as they haven't survived? that there is no reason to automatically assume they were relevant to his son's minority? that it's entirely possible that they weren't very important at all considering how dismissively Croyland spoke of them ("some codicils thereto", with no emphasis or elaboration whatsoever)? I LOVE being proven right <3

[thegreenleavesofspring]

YouTube is now giving me ads for, and I quote, reliable men. Who coincidentally happen to be shirtless. And like twice my age. 🤨 And I'm fairly certain they're either AI generated or Photoshopped, for the matter of that.

[renaissancebadboy]

not me desperately rubbing my two brain cells together trying to get a spark that translates my incoherent desire to combine ace attorney and dracula into something i can do something with

[inhonoredglory]

Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

[dragonsholygrail]

Dragon hybrid meets fairy reader and tries to eat her by grilling her with his fire but sees that she’s actually fire proof? Obviously dragon falls in love instantly and eats her in another way ✨

How cool!! That’s a super fascinating combination and possible power dynamic between the two monsters.

Consider, the big bad Dragon of the mountain and one of the last of his kind, comes down to the forest below in order to hunt. His large stature doesn’t allow for very sneaky attacks but what does he need for stealth when he can breathe fire??

He thinks it’s his lucky day when he sees a clueless Fairy all lost in their own world, not paying attention to their surroundings. Fruit ripe for the picking, he thinks. He unhinges his jaw, fire building up in his throat and giving him that warm spark throughout his body. Just as he’s about to cook his meal, he sees the Fairy turn around and meet his eye. But instead of fear and panic crossing her face, she merely smirks.

The confrontation startles the dragon and the fire that bursts forth from his throat is weak and flimsy. Still, for any normal creature it would’ve made them a nice medium rare. Not his first choice but he wouldn’t complain. But when he looks at the Fairy she’s left standing, her curious yet alluring body still perfectly in tact. Not even a scorch mark on her skin!

Her clothes though… the Dragon supposes whatever magic this creature possesses doesn’t include her clothing as the Fairy is left standing completely naked before him.

Of course, the mighty Dragon has to inspect and investigate how such a small creature compared to him was able to thwart his fire attack. The Fairy, feeling very smug about having outsmarted the Dragon that towers over her, agrees to be played with. She was certain he would never guess.

The Dragon inspects her body, sniffing and searching for the warmth he senses within her. That warmth most evident between her fleshy thighs. The Fairy is surprised when the Dragon brings her to the ground, his tongue dipping into her cunt in search of the heat. The Fairy moans and her heat grows, making the Dragon all the more curious.

His giant tongue laps at the Fairy’s pretty cunt. He watches it as it grows slick, puffy, and hotter by the minute. He growls, wanting answers and his pace quickens, tongue swirling through her folds, trying to get to where she runs hottest.

Realizing it’s inside her the Dragon leans back, making the Fairy whine in protest. The Dragon releases another tunnel of fire from its jaws, though this one purposefully remaining gentle as it curls and travels inside the Fairy’s cunt. The Fairy gasps, her body shaking with pleasure as the Dragon fucks her with his fire. Thrusting in and out of her pussy as it longs for the mysterious heat inside her.

With the heat licking along her walls in a way that has her head spinning and her body tingling, it doesn’t take long for the Fairy to cum all over the length of the fire inside her. The Dragon can taste it as it travels through the tunnel and he growls, breathing more fire, forcing it to burrow deeper inside her. The Fairy moans, her body limp and allowing the Dragon in even deeper.

As the flames course through her body and intertwine with her very essence, the Dragon finally understands. Her heart beating with the strength of a Dragon and a Fairy. A half-breed. His flames leave her and he moves to rest beside her weak form, his tail curling around her form protectively.

Originally having been looking for a meal, the lonely Dragon found something much more special instead.

[needycatboy]

t-cockwarming is talked about a lot on here, but if any of you sluts haven't actually had the chance yet let me paint you a picture of what it feels like:

imagine your loving dom playing with your hair while you kiss before flattening their palms and pushing you downwards, giving you just a moment to plant some kisses on their cock before shoving your face further in and telling you firmly to stay in place.

imagine feeling their cock grow harder against your tongue, and every bone in you is begging you to just play with it and worship it, but when you move even a little you get a hair pull and a harsh warning to keep still again. your saliva and their wetness combine into this thick and sticky slickness that makes your face so messy. you can feel their cock twitching in your mouth when you accidentally move and give them friction, and you are alight with the need to give them more to feel, but your attempts are thwarted before they even start.

imagine their hands petting your hair and encouraging you, telling you how warm your mouth is around their cock, how good you're being for staying so still. looking up at them, and knowing they can see the hearts in your eyes. everytime you pull away to catch your breath fully, you get to feel them shove your face back down onto their cock, and you have to suppress the urge to run your tongue along their head, suppress the need to push your tongue into their hole and make them moan, your purpose now is to be still, and be good.

imagine finally getting permission to get them off, and how lovely they'll look coming undone above you after you waited so long to make them feel good. imagine how fuzzy your head would feel after all that praise and attention.

now go tell your dom you want to cockwarm them.

[mythalism]

while i do believe it would be perfectly in character for solas to stab varric just because he’s being annoying and trying to thwart him, i think that that scene combined with the immediate conversation about blood magic facilitating the mental connection between rook and solas suggests something deeper than that.

why would solas STAB varric with the MAGICAL LYRIUM ONCE-RED-LYRIUM-IDOL RITUAL DAGGER when he can, idk, turn Varric to stone without even looking at him like he does to the Viddasala? when he could blow him to pieces the way he did to Bianca just moments before???? when he could probably incapacitate him 5000 magical ways without lifting a finger??? and yet he stabs him? with a dagger? and you watch as blood spurts out of the wound??

and then 10 minutes later tells rook that their BLOOD at the RITUAL SITE, from some minor wound on the back of their head, allowed him to form a connection???? when the one truly bleeding out in a puddle was Varric??? when blood magic is apparently being used already by him to create the connection to rook (and notice how solas says, when accused, “I abhor blood magic” NOT “I didn’t use blood magic”!)

we also see ghilannain stabbed with the ritual dagger in the release date trailer, and similar waves of magic/energy roll out of her as they do varric as they both lay on the ground, lyrium dagger in their chest.

he must have needed varrics blood in that dagger for some reason. no clue why, maybe to save Varric, maybe to save himself, let’s not even think about how the idol that bore that dagger is the same thing that cost Varric his brother! but anyway. something is going on with that ill bet money on it

[angellayercake]

RITE HERE RITE NOW RANT

Where were the other Papas??⁉️? It isn't right that they had a combined thirty seconds of screen time!! 😡😡 If it wasn't for them Then copua wouldn't even this opportunity would he?🚫?

ANd to make it worse🤬 it was lonG‼️So there should have been more time.to. honour papas of the past🙌 but I have already made this point. I had to go to the BATHROOM🚽two times 2️⃣ because it was so long. also who wants tolook at him that long anyway👹

why??????❓❔⁉️ does he get so many outfits! Designer outfits twenty of the same jackets in different colours??🔵🔴🟡⚫🟢 some papas just wore their robes(boring) and some papas were forced to have their shirts sewn into their jackets with very improper tailoring just because ""if you INsist on white gloves that need To be changed every day we have to cut costs elsewhere👿"* but cooia gets two robes ANS everything else???

Papa Iii is much more handsome 🧛and would look much better in the hd4k surroundsound big screen then HIM SO papa iiI deserves a film more and they should bring jim back just to show everyone this😏 and go show the people what its like to see songs sang. Properly!!! you have not been ciriced until you have been ciriced by papa 3💜💜💟 or so I have heard snyway...

YHE ONLY THING that is good is that it accurately shows what a rude SELFish self absorbed man this cOPis is(although the old man deserves no respect 👍🏻👍🏻) just tonight he ate the last cannoli without offering to aNYONE!!! ELSE‼️‼️ SO this i do think the film does right

BUT....

The door slams open and he almost drops his phone in surprise. He was sat where he had been sat all evening, collapsed into this chair in the clergy commons after his disappointing dinner, thinking. His expression soured even further now it seemed another one of his brothers was here to ruin his day.

"Are you reading reviews of the movie again, frattelino?" Secondo asks, squinting at him across the dark room. "There is steam coming from your ears."

"I am not reading them no," he smirks a little, pushing the glasses he usually pretends not to need up his nose before continuing to tap away at his phone with his pointer finger. Secondo flicks on the light switch disrupting him once again with the blinding light so he shoots him a quick glare before resuming his somewhat frantic yet stilted typing.

"I do not like that look," he accuses, pointing at him as he crosses the room. "What are you doing then?" He circles the armchair in which Terzo is slouched, leaning around to look at the screen over his shoulder.

"None of your business," he pulls the phone to his chest to hide the screen. "Why must you stick your big old nose where it is not wanted eh?"

"Let me see!" He tries to wriggle away from his brother's seeking hand, tustling each other like they used to when they were children. He almost slides free but his escape is thwarted but his stupidly large brothers hand clamping onto his shoulder and pulling away his phone with the other.

"Give that BACK!" He struggles out of the squishy chair pushing his glasses back up into his hair so he can glare uninterrupted at his brother who is now scrolling through his review, shaking his head and tutting like a stupid old chicken.

"Terzo this isn't very nice," he says it so patronisingly he has to resist stamping his foot in frustration. Why should he be nice! He never got a moment like this and if he had he knows he would have done more, done better. And shouldn't Secondo be mad too?

"I stand by what I said," he huffs crossing his arms indignantly. "Aren't you annoyed? That we barely got a mention? Just that we were dead?"

"Well I would say I got about twenty of the thirty seconds we were on screen so how can I complain?" He expects the typical reaction he usually gets when he teases his brother but when Terzo instead, visibly deflates before flopping back into his chair he realises this might be a bit deeper than he thought.

"Terzo, come now, what is really the matter?" He moves to perch on the arm of the chair, handing him back his phone. When he doesn't respond straight away he reaches over to mess with his brother's habitually pristine hair, ruffling it into a birdnest as he used to before whenever Terzo got in his head and needed a distraction.

"Ay!" He shouts batting at his hand but at least he is glaring at him again instead of pouting dejectedly.

"I am happy for Copia, I suppose," he starts hesitantly smoothing his hair back into place. "It's just, we all worked hard too, and yes we may have not been as successful but without us to lay the ground work whose to say he would be 'rite here, rite now'." He waves his hands around, air quoting the title of the film dramatically.

"You are not wrong frattelino," he pauses before continuing trying to decide how to best console him. "But that is not what this story is about. It is about truly experiencing the moment you are in now, and not letting the times of the past or the what ifs of the future ruin it." His shoulders drop with a sigh so he wraps an arm around him squeezing him firmly.

"I just never got to..." He trails off but they both know what he was about to say.

"I know," he squeezes him again. "And none of that makes what they did to you right but that is in the past. People still love us no? We still have many praising us and screaming our names no matter what Copia does. We all have a place. Ours was over there, back then but who knows what the future will bring?" He stops when he sees his brother finally perking up.

"You are right I suppose," he shoots him a sideways glance. "This time at least." He picks up his phone and repositions his glasses on his nose. "I better delete all this then" He starts to tap away at the screen but Secondo stills his hand.

"I didn't say that," He says with a smirk. "You should add one about how his wig looks terrible."

"But Copia doesn't wear a... Oh!" They are far too old for this, Secondo thinks as they giggle like children coming up with more and more ridiculous complaints about the film. But right here, right now, he doesn't care.

[believemedarlin]

Call Me Yours

Aaron Hotcher/Female Reader (9.4k words) Also available on AO3

Summary:

You blamed it on the alcohol.

The combination of a glass of wine with dinner, after-dinner drinks, a couple of shots, and the overall joviality of the night was surely the reason why you felt it was a brilliant idea to confess aloud your teeny tiny minuscule barely even there crush on one Aaron Hotchner to your friend Penelope.

OR

Five times you regretted telling Penelope your secret crush and the one time you didn’t.

You blamed it on the alcohol.

The combination of a glass of wine with dinner, after-dinner drinks, a couple of shots, and the overall joviality of the night was surely the reason why you felt it was a brilliant idea to confess aloud your teeny tiny minuscule barely even there crush on one Aaron Hotchner to your friend Penelope.

Thankfully, it had only been the two of you in her apartment when you blurted out your long-held thoughts on the BAU’s unit chief. 

Penelope, of course, had been delighted to hear that you were smitten with the boss-man and wasted no time in plotting and planning your confession to him.

To which you had laughed heartily and patted her hand conciliatorily—and perhaps a bit patronizingly at such a silly idea—because there was no way in this great big beautiful world of ours that you would ever say those words to Agent Hotchner’s face.

Because then he would hear them and then he would know and then what would you do?

You supposed it wouldn’t be too hard to pack up and move to someplace like Timbuktu, or Wales, or New Zealand, never to speak with anyone ever again. You’re sure you could find a way to make a living wherever you ended up.

Because you knew that confessing to him could only lead to one thing and you weren’t up for that level of rejection, no matter how gently he tried to deliver it—and you knew he would be as kind as possible. That was an interaction you could live without, thank you very much.

You had planned to keep your burgeoning feelings tucked safely away in a hidden corner of your heart, only to be brought out on special occasions and holidays like fine china. Or, if you were being honest, after every interaction you had with the man and sometimes late at night when the loneliness was at its peak.

But you had never planned on telling anyone, let alone your co-worker turned friend who was notoriously bad at keeping secrets and a world-class meddler.

Thus began a war of wills between you and your friend; Penelope, determined to help you find love and happiness with a man she was convinced was just as smitten with you as you were with him, and you, ready to thwart her at every turn because there was no way a man like him would ever be interested in you. 

***

The first skirmish happened a few days after your drunken divulgence.

You were standing in Penelope’s lair, taking notes on the tasks she needed your help with.

Like her, you were a technical analyst, though you worked in another department. You were nowhere near the caliber of Penelope—few were—but you were capable at your job. That was how you met her, in fact. You had been called in to help with some background checks and surface-level research while Penelope had been tasked with a deep dive that needed her full attention. 

That was also how you met Agent Hotchner. 

You had been hurrying out of the elevator and down the hall to the office your supervisor directed you to, focusing on finding the correct door—both nervous and excited to be assigned to help the prestigious BAU—when you accidentally bumped into a tall man exiting said office. Though bumped into was a gentle way of saying that you rammed your face straight into his chest at full speed.

You heard a low oof as the head-on collision caused you to bounce backward on your heels and you could feel yourself teetering before a large, warm hand steadied you.

You looked up—and up, he really was impressively tall compared to you—into dark eyes set in a rather stern face. The imposing man stared down intently at you with a furrowed brow and for one panic-fueled moment, you felt as though those eyes could see into your very soul.

But then rationality returned and you realized you were standing incredibly close to a stranger that you had literally just run into. 

You had backed up immediately causing his hand to drop from your arm and your traitorous brain had quickly noted multiple things simultaneously; namely that his chest was appealingly firm, that he smelled amazing, and that his hand had felt comfortingly warm. 

Any one of those thoughts would have been enough to make you blush, but the combination created an almost overwhelming heat that quickly flooded your cheeks.

“I am so sorry,” you blurted as you straightened, regaining your balance. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and didn’t see you and I didn’t mean to nearly bowl you over. Are you okay? I really am sorry—”

“Yes, I’m fine,” a low, gruff voice interrupted. “Are you? You hit pretty hard.”

Your face was positively flaming now. 

“I am so sorry.” You shook your head. “I’m okay. No pain beyond excruciating embarrassment. I promise I am usually much more aware of my surroundings.”

The hint of a smile softened his features. “No harm done. Was there something I could help you with?”

You smiled, relieved that he wasn’t upset with you and more than happy to change the topic. “I’m looking for a Miss Garcia? My supervisor Agent O’Neill sent me.”

“Ah, yes. I was expecting you. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, I asked Sam to send me her best.”

The blush that had finally started to recede reared back to life as you grinned sheepishly. “Rest assured, my computer skills are much better than my coordination.”

And that’s when your life as you knew it was changed forever because Aaron Hotchner had the audacity to smile at you. Dimples and all. 

Then he chuckled. Lowly and gruffly and insanely attractively. 

And you were instantly smitten, with no hope of reversing the damage that had been done by the proverbial Cupid’s arrow that he’d just launched at you.

With no regard for your sudden life-altering moment, Agent Hotchner had unceremoniously guided you into Miss Garcia’s office, performed a quick introduction, and then sauntered off without a second glance, unknowingly carrying away a tiny piece of your heart in his hands.

It had taken you a few moments to focus on the task at hand, but Penelope had been patient with you, and once you were able to shake off the effects of meeting Agent Hotchner, the two of you got down to business.

You and Penelope had worked well together that day and you had since been asked back multiple times. Hence your summons to her domain today.

The two of you were wrapping up when a knock sounded at the door and Agent Hotchner entered.

“Garcia, I—Oh, good she’s here. I was just going to suggest you call in some reinforcements if you needed any help but seems you beat me to it.” He smiled at Penelope and acknowledged you with a nod. “Nice to see you again.”

It took you a second to realize he was speaking to you—as focused as you were on his incredibly distracting smile—causing you to rush out your response in a moment of embarrassment. “Oh, yes sir. Nice to see you too, Agent Hotchner.”

His eyes did a cursory scan of you, something you noticed he did every time you saw him, though you guessed that was something ingrained in him at this point after all his years as a profiler. “You can call me Hotch, if you’d like. Everyone else does.”

You prayed your face was not glowing as pink as you thought it was. “Oh, I… Thank you, but I…” 

You sighed, frustrated with how you were stumbling over your words.

Thankfully, his phone rang before things became even more awkward and he excused himself. You could hear his curt “Hotchner” as the door closed behind him.

You kept your back to Penelope, but you could practically feel the elation radiating from her.

“Saved by the cell, huh?” Her teasing tone was only a tiny bit irritating. You couldn’t really blame her. You’d be teasing her if the situation were reversed.

You pressed your hands to your burning cheeks and turned to look at her. “Okay. On a scale of one to ten, how bad was that really?”

“Oh, a solid five.”

You groaned.

“But there is a silver lining.”

“How? I completely forgot the entirety of the English language and I’m sure I could heat the room with my face.”

Penelope chuckled and leaned forward. “Don’t think I didn’t notice him taking a good look at you. Those eyes lingered on their way back up, too.” She smiled smugly. “I told you that skirt was fire.”

“No, I seriously doubt that’s what he was noticing. He was probably just reading my incredibly awkward body language.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d love to study your body in every language.”

“Penelope!”

***

It was two weeks later, and thankfully you hadn’t had another awkward encounter with Agent Hotcher.

Though, you knew it was likely you were living on borrowed time. 

You were arriving to work with Penelope, having met at her favorite cafe to grab breakfast together before heading in. You each had decided to surprise your respective teams with their own treats as well, so you both were juggling your drinks and a large box of delicious-smelling pastries.

As you approached the entrance, one of the guards spotted you and kindly held a door open for you to enter. Not wanting him to wait, you hurried up the steps only to trip on the last one, nearly dropping everything as you stumbled about, trying to regain your balance. You managed to save the pastries, but your half-full coffee tumbled to the ground, the lid popping open and spraying you with the contents. 

Penelope turned back to check on you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tripped.” You looked down to see your new heels completely soaked. 

Bending down, you quickly dabbed at the coffee staining your shoes with the napkins you’d grabbed at the cafe, hoping the liquid would just wipe off. It did not.

You huffed as you stood. “Well, fuck. I just bought these.” 

Good thing you kept an extra pair of shoes in your office.

Penelope blinked. “Did you just cuss?”

You blinked back at her. “Yes?”

She gasped dramatically. “I’ve never heard you cuss before!”

You resisted rolling your eyes as you continued past her into the lobby, thanking the guard who was still gallantly holding the door. You spoke over your shoulder to Penelope. “Oh, come on. It’s just a word.”

“I know but I can’t believe my little Cinnamon Roll just used an expletive!”

“Your Cinnamon Roll? I thought that was Morgan.”

“Nope. He’s my Chocolate Thunder. Or Hot Stuff. Or Angel Face. You are my Cinnamon Roll.”

You snorted as you walked through the metal detectors, gathering your items again on the other side. “How am I the cinnamon roll when you’re here?”

“Because that’s what you are, sugar.” She blew you a kiss as she grabbed her things.

You eyed her suspiciously. “This is going to be what you call me from now on, isn’t it?”

She smiled gleefully. “Yep!” 

“Well, if I’m going to be Cinnamon Roll, then I’m calling you Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”

“Yeah, because cupcakes are all bright and colorful, fun and sweet. Like you.”

Penelope grinned. “Aw, thanks.”

You wrinkled your nose at her. “You’re welcome.” 

You balanced the pastry box in one hand as you pressed the elevator call button. “And I guess I’ll accept being your Cinnamon Roll. Makes a bit of sense, actually. They may not always be the best looking things but they are sweet and a little spicy. Maybe a bit dry sometimes but always enjoyable.”

“What’s dry but enjoyable?”

You startled at the deep voice coming from behind you, turning to see Agent Hotchner looking between the two of you. Beside you, Penelope was grinning mischievously. 

“Cinnamon rolls.” She chirped, looking much too pleased at the turn of events. 

You could feel the blush coming as you heard the ding signaling the arriving elevator.

Being the gentleman that he was, Agent Hotchner reached forward to hold the doors, gesturing for the two of you to enter. He followed you in and hit the buttons for both of your floors.

Penelope glanced at you with a smirk. “You like cinnamon rolls, don’t you sir?”

Agent Hotchner hummed in agreement. “I do. They’re my favorite breakfast treat, actually.”

“Your favorite, huh?” Penelope waggled her eyebrows at you and you thanked everything that was good that Agent Hotcher was standing in front of her and didn’t look around to see her display or the ever-persistent blush on your face his mere presence caused.

“Good thing I grabbed some to share this morning then.” Penelope winked at you.

Agent Hotchner looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes darting to you briefly. “I wouldn’t say no to a cinnamon roll.”

He faced forward again while you tried your hardest not to die on the spot.

Penelope nudged you with her elbow, her face more gleeful than you’d ever seen it.

The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open to your floor, saving you from more of Penelope’s not-at-all subtle teasing.

Agent Hotcher stepped to the side, allowing you to exit, which you did with a nod, forcing yourself to look anywhere but him. “Have a good day, Pen. Agent Hotchner.”

“You, too.” 

You closed your eyes at the sound. Did he have to say it all low and raspy like that? Didn’t he know he should be careful how he wielded that voice of his? It was dangerous, to both your heart and your knickers.

You rushed down the hall without a second glance.

An hour later, you received a text from Penelope, and you couldn’t help but laugh. She’d sent a photo of the team enjoying their pastries, with a heart drawn around Agent Hotcher as he took a large bite from one of the cinnamon rolls. See, her accompanying text said, he looooves cinnamon rolls.

***

A few days later, you were in the BAU bullpen chatting with Penelope and Morgan before heading home for the day. 

You were chuckling at the back-and-forth banter between the two when a bright voice cried, “Miss Penelope!”

The three of you turned to see an excited Jack Hotchner rushing towards you, his beleaguered aunt not far behind.

You had met Jack a few times and always enjoyed seeing the cheerful boy, who was now giving Penelope a fierce hug.

“Hey, mini Hotch! How’s it going?”

Jack beamed up at Penelope. “I did it! I got an A on that presentation you helped me with. The teacher liked the design and everything! She said it was very creative.”

“That’s awesome!” Penelope cheered.

“Way to go, little man!” Morgan gave Jack a high-five while you and his aunt Jessica shared a grin.

“I was going to take him home like usual,’ Jessica said. “But he insisted he had to tell Miss Penelope immediately.”

“What was the presentation on, Jack?” You asked.

He turned with a grin. “Darth Vader: From Hero to Villian to Heroic Anti-Villian.”

Your lips curled into a matching grin. “That sounds amazing actually.”

“The teacher even let me do part of the presentation in my mask!”

“You have a Darth Vader mask?”

He nodded. “It’s a full mask that lights up and everything.”

“That’s so cool. Does it augment your voice and do the—“ You mimicked Darth Vader’s breathing as best you could. It was a poor imitation, but it made Jack giggle, so you counted it as a win anyway.

“It does! My dad got me the full costume for Halloween.”

“That sounds like the best costume ever. I’m sad I missed seeing it.”

“Oh, Aunt Jessica videoed it. I can show you, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that.” 

You looked to Jessica with a smile as Jack blurted out. “Okay!” 

And with that, he spun and dashed towards his dad’s office.

“Wait, Jack! Don’t… Aaand he’s gone.” You looked towards Jessica, Penelope, and Morgan, who all just shrugged.

Moments later Jack returned, pulling a confused Agent Hotchner behind him. He stopped beside you and looked up at his dad. “I need your phone please.”

Agent Hotchner blinked. “What do you need it for?”

Jack pointed at you. “So I can show her that video of my Vader costume,” he said in a tone that implied he thought the reason was obvious.

“The video that your aunt, who’s standing right beside her, also has on her phone?”

“Yeah.” Jack replied.

“Then why did you need my phone?”

Jack shrugged. “I dunno. You always let me use it when I ask.”

With the long-suffering sigh of a father used to his son’s antics, Agent Hotchner pulled out his phone to pull up the video, then handed it to Jack. “Here.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Jack smiled sweetly at him. 

You could feel your biological clock screaming at you as you witnessed Agent Hotchner completely soften and smile down at his son fondly, all the irritation from a moment ago forgotten.

Holy moly, but fatherhood was a good look on him. You’d never really been interested in the concepts of DILFs, but you certainly were now.

With your ogling, you nearly missed the start of the video when Jack held it a bit too closely to your face in his eagerness to share it with you. You steadied it with your hand and lowered it so you could watch it together.

You grinned as you watched Jack having the time of his life, fully decked out in the coolest Darth Vader costume you had ever seen, as he wielded his lightsaber and used the Force to ‘open’ a set of elevator doors.

You listened as he explained all the features of the costume and lightsaber, and how he still liked to put it on sometimes at home. 

“Dad said the next free weekend we have, we can watch all of the movies together.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun. I used to watch them with my mom and we’d stock up on candy and popcorn. Of course, there were only three movies back then.”

“Really? Which is your favorite movie?”

“Return of the Jedi.”

Jack gasped. “That’s Dad’s favorite, too!”

You glanced at Agent Hotchner, shooting him a quick smile, before Jack drew your attention again by asking another question. “Who is your favorite character? I like Darth Vader but Luke is cool too.”

“Princess Leia.”

“Oh,” Jack said sounding a little disappointed. “But she didn’t have a lightsaber or use the Force or anything.”

“No, but she is a princess with a blaster, and she’s just as tough as the guys. She took down Jabba with a chain. And she’s really clever.”

Jack tilted his head and squinted his eyes in thought before nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s actually pretty cool for a princess.”

“And her second favorite character is Han Solo.” Penelope chimed in. She turned to you with a much too innocent smile. “Isn’t he the one who inspired your admiration of tall, dark, and handsome men?”

If death by glare were possible, Penelope would become its latest statistic.

Jack spoke excitedly beside you while you kept your lethal glare focused on your friend and pointedly did not look at anyone else. Especially the tall, dark, and handsome man standing nearby. “Dad! She likes Han Solo, too!”

Agent Hotchner chuckled. “Yeah, I heard buddy.”

“She likes your favorite movie and your favorite character!”

“She must have good taste, then.”

“Oh, she does,” Penelope agreed. “Impeccable taste. In fact, you might be pleasantly surprised by the things she loves.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Agent Hotchner’s reaction to that, so you dropped your eyes to your hands, fiddling with the phone you were still holding.

His phone.  

You squeezed your eyes shut before looking back up at him, only to find him already looking at you. 

“Oh,” you breathed and quickly offered the phone back to him. “I’m sorry Agent Hotchner. I forgot I was still holding on to this. Thank you for letting us borrow your phone.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled as he took the phone, his hand brushing against yours and it was just as warm as you remembered. “And it’s Hotch, remember?”

You fought against the urge to drop your head again to hide from his piercing eyes and forced yourself to nod nonchalantly, though your words came out more breathy than you liked. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes seemed to darken at that and you found yourself torn between losing yourself in his gaze and fleeing before he caught on to your desire to do just that.

Luckily, you were saved from having to decide by Jessica’s phone ringing loudly and drawing your attention. She gave an apologetic smile before giving a quick goodbye kiss to Jack and a fond pat on Agent Hotchner’s arm. “Sorry, I have to run. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Seizing the opportunity, you quickly followed suit. “I need to head out, too. I’ll walk with you.” 

You gave everyone a short wave and spun to follow her, not looking back until you were at the elevators. A subtle peek provided you one last view of Agent Hotchner smiling down at his son, prompting your own soft smile. 

You had only meant to steal a glimpse, but you could never resist it when he smiled. Before you could tear your eyes away, he glanced up and caught you watching, his warm smile now directed at you.

You jerked your head forward, embarrassed at being caught and hoping Jessica hadn’t noticed your crimson cheeks.

If the grin on her face was anything to go by, she had. Thankfully, she was kind enough not to tease you about it.

Even when you darted into the elevator before the doors were fully open and wedged yourself in the corner out of view with an unflattering squeak as you pressed your hands to your flaming cheeks.

***

You were making your way to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch when you heard the rapid staccato of high heels behind you.

“Hey, Cinnamon Roll!” Penelope scurried to catch up with you. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You chuckled. “You mean here at the cafeteria where I almost always grab lunch around this time? What are the odds?”

She swatted at you with a tsk as she linked her arm with yours. “Don’t be cheeky.”

“Please. You love me being cheeky.”

“Yeah, but not when it’s directed at me.”

“Whatever you say, Cupcake.”

You made your way into the queue, peeking to see what was on offer for the day. The food was generally good, but sometimes the options were limited. You ended up settling for a sandwich while Penelope went with a salad.

You chatted while you ate, your lunch break going by much more enjoyably with your friend there. 

You were discussing the recent episode of a show you both watched when Penelope looked up. “Huh. What’s he doing here?”

You followed her gaze to find Agent Hotchner in the queue. “Well, using my astute powers of deduction, I’d say he’s getting some food, just like everyone else here.”

She huffed. “You’re at full capacity cheek today. I meant, that he doesn’t usually come to the cafeteria.”

You shrugged. “He did today.”

Penelope hummed and then that mischievous grin you had learned to be weary of crept across her face. 

Your eyes widened because you knew she was about to do something meddlesome.

And you were right.

Before you could stop her, she waved wildly and called out, “Hotch!”

His head swiveled in your direction and you could have sworn his face actually lit up just the tiniest bit when he saw you. He quickly paid and made his way over to your table.

“Hey, you two. Enjoying lunch?”

“We are,” Penelope replied with that puckish grin. “Would you care to join us?”

“Oh,” Agent Hotchner’s brows creased slightly. “I have a meeting soon so I have to run. Sorry.”

Was it just your endless hopefulness regarding him, or did he sound disappointed?

“That’s alright, Agent Hotchner. Don’t let us keep you. We were almost done, anyway.”

His eyes did his now routine scan of you before the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile that almost seemed wistful. “How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Hotch?”

That ever-constant blush warmed your cheeks yet again. You never knew what to do with yourself whenever he looked at you. This man always made you flustered beyond reason. 

You could see he was waiting for you to respond so you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.  “At least once more, Agent Hotchner. As always.”

To your dismay, his eyes seemed to dim as the quirk of his lips dropped a fraction.

“Right,” He breathed out.

He studied you for a moment longer before glancing at his watch and giving a quick wince. “I have to go. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He pivoted on his heel and was halfway to the exit before either of you could reply.

You watched him leave, barely aware of the open longing on your face. Once he was out of sight, you turned back to Penelope to see her biting her lip to hide a smile and her eyebrows well above her frames.

You tilted your head. “What?”

Her eyes shined merrily as she asked, “Did you just quote the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie at him?”

You didn’t know what to say as you felt heat flood your entire face.

“OMG, you did!” Penelope cackled.

“I panicked, okay? I’m fluent in movie quotes and it just slipped out!” You buried your burning face in your hands.

That only made Penelope laugh even harder. “This is why I love you so much, Cinnamon Roll.”

“I can’t help it! I get so nervous around him.”

“Is that why you refuse to call him Hotch?”

“I don’t refuse to. I just… I don’t know. It feels safer to just call him by his title. Less chance of me slipping and saying something we’d both regret.”

Penelope looked at you thoughtfully. “I’ve known Hotch for a long time and I’m positive he wouldn’t regret hearing that. In fact, I’d bet my favorite fluffy pink pen that he’d welcome it. Be overjoyed by it, even. He might even smile.”

You sighed. “Not this again, Pen. I love how supportive and encouraging you are about everything, but on this, you’re wrong. He does not see me that way and probably never will.”

“Well, you’ll never know if you don’t try. You should start by calling him Hotch next time you see him and watch his little frown turn upside down.”

“Not gonna happen,” you declared with a petulant shake of your head.

“So you’re just going to call him Agent Hotchner for the rest of your life?”

You crossed your arms defiantly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

She smirked. “Are you gonna call him Agent in bed? Not my kink, but I can see the appeal.”

You gaped at her. “‘Penelope!”

 She cackled again.

***

Your workday was finally over and not a moment too soon.

You slid into your jacket with a huff and snatched up your things, taking yet another deep breath when yet another ping came from your phone as yet another text was received.

They had been increasing in frequency for the last hour.

You stomped down the hall, jabbed the elevator call button, tapped your foot impatiently until it arrived, and darted in the moment the doors opened. Thankfully, it was empty so no one had to bear witness to your increasing frustration at the slowness of the elevator.

When it finally reached your desired floor, you stalked down the hall to your destination. 

Your eyes dropped to the phone in your hand when another text came through as you burst into Penelope’s lair without knocking, already mid-rant. “Penelope Middle Name Garcia! Why have you been spamming me with DILF memes all afternoo—”

You looked up from your phone expecting to see a grinning Penelope, only to find Agent Hotchner there looking at you with a raised brow and bemused smile.

You jerked to a halt, torn between wanting the floor to swallow you whole in your embarrassment or plotting out the imminent demise of your meddlesome friend.

Both seemed like great options at the moment.

Then Penelope leaned out from behind her boss, wearing the most impish smirk you had ever seen.

You narrowed your eyes at her and she batted hers right back. 

Problem solved, then. Plotting her imminent demise it was.

But, unfortunately, that would have to wait until after you’d recovered from your latest display of awkwardness in front of Agent Hotchner. 

Who was still watching you and looked to be enjoying the moment nearly as much as Penelope.

Mortified, you scrambled to say something, anything, to redeem yourself. 

“I’m so sorry, Agent Hotchner!” You squeaked—a sound that was high and breathy and not at all attractive.

Now you were rethinking your choice. 

Yes, having the floor open beneath you and saving you from this sounded like the better outcome now.

Why, oh why couldn't you ever act like a normal human being around this man?

Determined to get out of this as unscathed as possible, you cleared your throat and tried again. “I apologize, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting with Penelope. Please excuse me.”

You began to turn when he took a step towards you, his hand partly raised towards you. “No, no,” he said in a rush.

His hand clenched and he stuffed it into his pocket. “You didn’t interrupt anything. We were already done.”

“Oh, that’s good. I’m still sorry for bursting in unannounced.”

He chuckled and your heart raced in delight. “Well, it sounds like you had justified cause.” He looked at Penelope over his shoulder. “Maybe refrain from spamming memes during work hours, okay Garcia?”

Penelope smiled and saluted. “Aye aye, sir.”

Agent Hotchner shook his head and turned back to you with a grin you couldn’t help but return. His eyes locked with yours and for a moment, you lost yourself in their depths. You would have been content to remain like that but the moment broke when he cleared his throat. “Well. I’ll leave you ladies to it. I have a bit more work before I can head home.”

He nodded to Penelope and made to leave, pausing at the door. He looked back at you with a sly smile. “Oh, and it’s Grace.”

You tilted your head. “Pardon?”

“Garcia’s middle name. For the next time you want to yell at her for sending you DILF memes.” 

Then he did something that you were in no way prepared for and would never forget in your lifetime. 

Your eyes widened almost painfully as your face flushed.

He winked.

At you.

Agent Hotchner winked at you and was out the door before your brain caught up.

You stood frozen for a long moment before exhaling a shaky breath. You dazedly shuffled to the chair Penelope had acquired for the times you needed to work alongside her and plopped down, your eyes still trained on the door.

“Did…” You slowly turned your head towards an enthusiastically grinning Penelope. “Did Agent Hotchner just wink at me?”

Penelope was nearly bouncing in her seat as she clapped her hands excitedly. “Yes! He most assuredly did! And he teased you! Oh, this is the best day ever. I never thought I’d live to see the day Hotch teased a woman about DILF memes. And he winked! I didn’t know he could do that.”

You continued to stare in her direction, but all you could see was a replay of him winking at you. With as flustered as it made you, that wink should be labeled a deadly weapon. You would never be the same. There would be the you before the wink, and the you after.

Scratch that.

There very well may be no you after. Because you’re pretty sure you died. That was it. You were dead and your tombstone would read death by wink and tales would be long told of your tragic demise. 

Because there was no way you were going to survive knowing that Agent Hotchner teased you and then winked, after saying the word DILF, of which he was the prime example.

You knew exactly why Penelope had been sending you increasingly inappropriate memes about DILFs. And it was because of the man that just left you as a puddle on the floor whom you were absolutely besotted with.

But then a horrifying thought struck you.

“Pen?”

“Yeah?”

“How likely is it that he knows those memes were about him?”

Penelope hummed in thought. “Honestly, maybe 20 percent?”

You looked at her skeptically.

“Look, Hotch is a brilliant profiler. One of the best I’ve seen, but when it comes to things like this, he can be completely oblivious.”

You shook your head. “I doubt that.”

“Trust me. He’s often the first to notice when a person is crushing on someone, but never if he’s that someone. He never sees it. Maybe he just doesn’t want to but I think he just can’t imagine anyone finding him attractive.”

“Seriously? Does the man not own a mirror?”

“I know. It’s crazy but he never picks up on it whenever he gets hit on. It’s like he has blinders up just for that.”

“Oh.”

“But,” she grabbed your hand and squeezed gently. “I’ve never seen him act the way he does around you. I’ve told you before but hopefully, you’ll believe me this time. I think he’s interested in you. I think if you were very clear with him, told him straight out that you’re attracted to him and interested in getting to know him, asked him on a date, he’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

You worried your bottom lip, anxiety rushing through your veins at the mere idea of confessing to him. “I don’t know, Pen. I’m not… I’ve never done that.” You sighed. “I’ve never been any good at this and the thought of telling him how I feel terrifies me.”

She smiled kindly. “I know. But don’t you think he’s worth it?”

Of course, he is, was your immediate thought. Who could ever think otherwise?

He was handsome, of course, but that wasn’t what truly attracted you to him. 

It was all the little parts of him that caught your attention and drew you in.

It was his kindness, bravery, and strength. It was seeing glimpses of his humor and light-hearted moments. It was witnessing him being a good leader, a better friend, and the best dad.

It was all the things you knew about him and all the things you still wanted to learn.

It was the fact that he was a decent man, an admirable man, a good man.

Yes, you thought. He is absolutely worth it.

***

You sat at the bar, your chin resting in your hand. You glanced at your phone, checking the time again. Penelope had stopped by your office earlier that day, demanding that you meet her for dinner and drinks that night. As you had no plans, you readily agreed.

However, she was late so you were restlessly waiting in the lounge of the restaurant, sipping on a fruity cocktail.

A few minutes passed and you looked towards the entrance again, hoping to see your brightly dressed friend.

She wasn’t there, but someone else you recognized was.

Agent Hotchner was standing there, scanning the room like he was looking for someone.

Even in the low lights of the lounge, he caught your eye. He stood a head above the other mingling patrons, his dark hair softer than he normally kept it at work. He was dressed casually, for him, in a black button shirt and dark jeans. His sleeves were partially rolled, drawing your eyes down his arms to see his fingers tapping on his leg.

You looked up in time to see him notice you. He tilted his head with a smile and made his way through the crowd to you.

”Hello,” you breathed out when he was close enough to hear.

”Hello.” His eyes ran over you in that familiar pattern, lingering for just a moment where your legs crossed as you sat on the stool. “You look lovely.”

Your cheeks flushed, as was their habit when he was near, and you thanked your earlier self for taking the time to dress up a little for the evening. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”

He grinned as he shuffled closer to you in order to let someone pass. “Thanks. It’s nice to be out of the suit for the weekend.”

You had to agree. While he was distractingly attractive in his suits, he was devastatingly handsome dressed like this.

You’d have to remember to thank Penelope later for picking this restaurant. You were very much enjoying the view.

“It’s a pleasant surprise, running into you here.” He looked at the empty stools beside you. “Are you meeting someone?”

“Ah, yes. I’m meeting up with Pen, but I guess she’s running late. You?”

He nodded. “Same. Meeting a friend. Looks like he’s not here yet, either.”

You felt a flash of relief. He’s not on a date then. That’s good.

You smiled, looking up into his eyes as he stood beside you. So far, this had been the best interaction you’d had with him. No awkwardness on your part and no meddling friends nearby.

It was nice, being here with him. You wanted the moment to last.

Gathering all your courage, you decided to take a chance. “I was just having a drink until our table was ready. You’re welcome to join me while you wait.”

His smile grew, his dimples coming out to play. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

He sat on the stool beside you, his long leg nearly brushing yours as he adjusted.

You took a sip of your drink, peeking at Agent Hotchner as he flagged down the bartender. You couldn't keep your eyes from running up the length of his arm, watching his muscles flex and move.

You nearly startled when your phone pinged, buzzing against the bartop and drawing his attention. You shot him an apologetic smile as you reached for your phone, meeting his eye when his own phone buzzed. 

You shared a grin at the coincidence, before you both checked your phones.

Sorry Cinnamon Roll, the text from Penelope read. I’m not going to be able to make it.

Is everything alright? You asked her.

Yes, everything’s fine. A thing came up. Sorry, sugar. You should stay and enjoy yourself though.

You held in a sigh as you began to type your response, stopping when another arrived from Penelope.  Maybe you can find someone else to enjoy the evening with. A certain tall dark and broody someone, perhaps?

Suspicion flared within you and your lips flattened into a thin line. You already know he’s here, don’t you?

Hotch is there? WOW, what a crazy random happenstance!

You glared at your phone, hoping she could feel your wrath on the other end. Penelope Cupcake Garcia! Did you set this up?

You know my middle name’s Grace.

Your lips pressed together even tighter. PEN!

You waited impatiently until her replies came in rapid succession.

I plead the fifth. 

Take a chance. He’s worth it, right?

Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

But definitely do everything I would. 😏

It was moments like these that made you both love and hate Penelope Garcia

You chanced a peek at Agent Hotcher. He was bent over his phone, rapidly typing away. Maybe it was the lighting, but you could have sworn he had the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks.

He huffed and glanced at you. “Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay. My night with Pen has been canceled. She can’t make it.”

He hummed. “Dave just canceled on me, too. Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“Does he do that often?”

“Rarely, in fact.”

“Oh.”

“I think our friends may have set us up.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Oh, no. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry, Agent Hotchner. Pen probably planned this whole thing and roped poor Rossi into it and…”

“You call him Rossi but still won’t call me Hotch?”

“I… I don’t… I’m sorry, Agent Hotch—” The look on his face stopped the words in your throat. His head tilted in a way that seemed stern, his eyebrows raised expectantly, but the quirk of his lips looked playful. Impish, even.

Was he teasing you?

“You’re getting closer,” He smirked. “Just drop the Agent and you’ll be there.”

Yep. He was teasing you.

And now you were blushing so hard you were sure he could feel the heat from there.

You pressed your lips together in a small pout. You weren’t sure what to do with a playful Agent Hotchner, but you couldn’t deny you liked it. Still, being teased by the object of your affection was not something you felt equipped to handle at the moment.

You took a fortifying drink of your cocktail, thinking back on Penelope’s encouraging words. You could do this. He was worth it.

“H-Hotch.” 

“There you go. Wasn’t so hard after all.”

You huffed a laugh. “Actually, it was harder than you’d think.”

He ran contemplative eyes over you. “And why’s that?”

You finished off the last of your drink and turned to face him, leaning against the bar. It was your turn to study him. “Surely you know how flustered you make me.”

The corner of his lips turned down. “I had noticed, yes. I know I can be intimidating, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“I never said I was uncomfortable.”

His eyes brightened. “Just flustered?”

You hummed. “I know you try not to profile your coworkers, but I’m betting it’s hard to just turn that off. So, what have you noticed about how I act around you versus everyone else?”

He straightened in his seat, bringing his glass to his lips as his eyes stayed focused on you. He took a slow sip before speaking. “You display signs of discomfort and hesitation with me, while you are more open with others, especially Garcia. You only make direct eye contact with me enough to let me know you are acknowledging me, but you often look down or to the side when we speak. You fidget and sometimes stumble over your words. I don’t see you do that with anyone else.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“I assumed it was due to my role as unit chief and the perception that I’m a hardass who never smiles.”

You grinned at that. “Now, we both know that’s not true. I’ve seen you smile countless times.”

His cheeks pinkened and your grin grew. “Yes, well. That doesn’t change the fact that others think I’m incapable of it.”

“It’s their loss then. I happen to like seeing you smile.”

His eyes dropped almost shyly and that was definitely a blush spreading across his face. “I… Thank you.”

You watched in awe as he shifted in his seat, exhibiting all the signs you knew you normally did when he was around. Could it be that he was the one flustered now?

You felt a well of confidence spring up inside you. You felt powerful in a way you never had before. You had somehow managed to affect this stoic man enough to fluster him.

You smirked. “You’re wrong, by the way.”

He blinked. “Wrong?”

”That’s not why I acted that way around you.”

”Oh.”

”Can you guess why?”

“Normally, I would think that you didn’t like me. That I had done something to upset or offend you, but if that were the case, I don’t think you’d still be here talking with me.”

”Correct. I definitely don’t dislike you.” At the tilt of his head, you could tell he still didn’t understand. “If you had seen me act that way towards someone else, what conclusion would your observations lead you to?”

He swallowed. “Normally, such behavior would signify attraction or some depth of feeling towards the other person.”

”Did it really not occur to you that was the case here?”

”Honestly, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Didn’t want to assume you felt the same way.”

”The same way?”

The corner of his lip quirked up. “Attraction and some depth of feeling.”

You couldn’t keep the pleased smile from brightening your face. “Oh.”

You shyly tucked some hair behind your ear, his eyes following the motion. “Is… is that really how you feel about me?”

He stayed silent for a long moment, his focus firmly on you as if he were contemplating your features like one would fine art. ”Do you know why I kept asking you to call me Hotch?”

The abrupt change of topic threw you and it took a few seconds for you to respond. ”I thought you were just being nice.”

He shook his head with a soft smile. “It was because I hoped you’d feel comfortable enough to call me by my name someday. If I could get you to call me Hotch, then eventually, I might be able to convince you to call me Aaron.”

Your breath caught when he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours as he quietly spoke words meant only for you. “But what I’d really like, is if someday you’d call me yours.” 

You were pretty sure you had stopped breathing and that all the blood in your body was rushing to your face. Surely you didn’t hear that correctly. “W-what?”

He pulled back, his cheeks attractively flushed. “I apologize if I overstepped. I’m a bit rusty at it, but Dave suggested I try flirting. I’ll admit I got a bit nervous and that just came out.”

“Flirting? With me?”

He must have read something in your face because he smirked. “Yes, flirting with you.” 

He leaned closer again. “Is it working?” 

You’re sure your face is red enough to stop traffic. “Yes,” you managed to squeak out. 

“Good.” He ran his hand down your arm, wrapping his fingers around yours and bringing them up to his lips, pressing a barely there kiss to your knuckles. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. 

He smiled down at you, dimples on full display and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Not here, though.” He glanced around the bar. “I wouldn’t put it past Garcia to hack into their network to watch us.”

You chuckled and nodded knowingly. That was exactly what she would do.

He turned to wave down the bartender. “Please put both our drinks on the tab for David Rossi.” 

You gaped at him and he shrugged with a grin. “He comes here all the time and he would have paid if he had been here. Besides, it’s the least he can do for plotting with Garcia.”

With a giggle, you conceded. “That’s true.”

He stood from his stool, offering you his hand to help you from yours. “Come on. I know a great Italian place nearby.”

He laced his fingers with yours once you were on your feet and led you out of the restaurant.

“It’s only a few blocks away. Since it’s a nice evening, would you like to walk?”

You nodded and allowed him to guide you down the sidewalk, noting that he took care to walk between you and the street.

You walked in companionable silence for a while before he spoke, his eyes trained ahead. “You know, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Since the moment we met.”

You looked at him skeptically. “You mean when I barreled into you and almost knocked you off your feet?”

He grinned down at you. “No almost about it.”

You gasped playfully. “I didn’t make you fall.”

“Sure you did. And all it took was your smile.”

You ducked your head down. “You’re teasing me again.”

“I’m not.” You shot him a leveled look. “Okay, yes, maybe a little. But I’m pretty sure I fell for you the moment you smiled up at me after you finished rambling and were more concerned about me than yourself even though you faceplanted pretty hard. I was worried you might’ve broken something.”

“Hey! I didn’t hit that hard.”

He chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze. “Sorry sweetheart, but you did. I’m surprised there wasn’t an imprint of a button on your face afterward.”

The endearment surprised you but in the most pleasant way. You weren’t sure if it was just a slip of the tongue or a calculated move, but either way, you hoped you’d get to hear it again.

Despite that, you wanted to bury your face—preferably in his chest again, but in a much gentler manner than the last time—to hide your discomfiture. “I’m always so awkward around you. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s endearing.”

“Oh, stop teasing me. There’s no way you find that even the least bit attractive.”

He stopped and you paused alongside him, looking up at him. His expression was serious but his eyes were soft. “I do. I find everything about you attractive. I think you’re beautiful, especially when you smile. Even more so when you’re blushing. You’re kind and sweet and funny. You might be the most charming woman I’ve ever met.”

You could feel your blush creeping down your neck to your chest. At this rate, you would soon be red from head to toe. “Pretty sure it’s you who’s the charming one.”

His lips lifted in a soft smile as his eyes took in the spreading warmth he always caused. “I’m glad you think so. Makes this easier to ask. I know I should wait until the end of the night but…”

He gently cradled your face in one of his hands, warm even against your flushed cheek. “May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

The hushed word was barely passed your lips before his were there, stealing the last of it for himself.

The kiss was achingly gentle, a soft press of lips that left no doubt as to his burgeoning feelings for you. It was a slow wooing, a tender plea, a solemn promise. A declaration that this was only the beginning of his intentions towards you. 

It was a kiss full of hope.

Hope that this was only the first kiss of many, that this was the beginning of something wonderful, that you would accept what he was only too happy to offer. Himself.

You slowly broke apart, both breathing heavily.

That was, by far, the best kiss of your life, and you knew that they would only get better from there if Aaron Hotchner was the one kissing you.

That one kiss had conveyed so much and you needed to let him know that you got it, you understood, and you wanted the same.

“Aaron.” His name came out as a shaky sigh, but it was enough for him to freeze before dropping his forehead to rest against yours.

“Yes,” he asked just as quietly, his voice deep and husky.

“I feel the same.”

You felt him relax against you as he let out a stuttered breath.

“I never thought I’d have the courage to tell you this. You’re the brave one. But I just need you to know how I feel about you.”

You swallowed and met his eyes that were watching you intently. 

“I’ve been yours since I crashed into you. You stole a piece of my heart with your kindness that day and I’ve happily given you a little more of it each day since. You make me happy every time I see you, and even though I’m flustered and awkward around you, you make me feel safe. You’re a gentleman, you treat your team like a family, and you’re an amazing dad. And you’re handsome. Like, distractingly good-looking. It’s a problem.”

He chuckled and you were pleased to see a blush brightening his cheeks.

“I like you quite a lot, Aaron Hotchner. And I’d really like it if—if I could call you mine.”

Your answer came with his lips brushing against yours once, twice, before they were insistent in their acquisition of yours.

This kiss was deeper. The celebration of a long-awaited victory that had your toes curling. You lost yourself to it and would have continued to do so were it not for the honking from a passing car.

Aaron gave you one more soft kiss before pulling away, his lips delightfully pink and plump.

“As much as I’d love to carry on, this may not be the best place.” 

Despite his words, he pressed a kiss to your cheek and then another to your forehead. You grinned at him and for a moment, he seemed ready to lean right back in.

Instead, his eyes flicked quickly left and right, stopping on something behind you. With a squeeze of the hand that was still holding yours, he guided you to a recessed section of wall that provided a bit more privacy.

He positioned himself in front of you, his free hand coming to rest on your hip. He ducked down to kiss you once more, a tease of his lips that left you wanting more.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“Never apologize for that. You can kiss me all you want.”

His grip tightened on your hip. “You called me a gentleman, and yet here you are tempting me to prove otherwise.”

You shrugged with a cheeky smile. “Just being honest.”

“Well, since we are being honest with each other,” he said, the words rumbling in his chest, “I feel I need to let you know that while I plan to do this right and take things slow, there is one important fact you need to know about me.” 

“What’s that?” 

He leaned in, his breath low in your ear. “When granted the liberty to do so, I’m going to show you just how much I love having cinnamon rolls for breakfast.” 

You blinked, the words sinking in. “Cin-cinnamon rolls?” 

“They are my favorite, after all.” He hummed as he pressed a kiss beneath your ear. “My little Cinnamon Roll.”

You gasped and pulled back, narrowing your eyes at him. “You heard Pen call me that, didn’t you?”

He chuckled. “Everyone’s heard you call each other Cupcake and Cinnamon Roll. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“No, I meant that day at the elevator.”

“You mean when I told you I wouldn’t say no to one?”

“You…you did hear us!” 

He smirked unrepentantly. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but you weren’t being that quiet. So, I just used it to my advantage.”

You swatted his arm. “I was so embarrassed and you’re saying you were teasing?”

“In my defense, it was Garcia who was the one teasing you. I was flirting.”

You pouted at him. “Everyone’s wrong about you. You’re not a stoic hardass. You’re a menace. All these months pining away for you, all the times I was awkward, and now you tell me you were flirting.”

“If it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, I was pining for you too.”

“It does.” You huffed, only a little begrudgingly. 

He chuckled again and dipped down for one last lingering kiss.

You were breathless by the time he pulled back, smiling dazedly when he guided you back onto the sidewalk and resumed your walk to the restaurant.

Despite it having started because of a plot by your friends, your first date with Aaron Hotchner was everything you dreamed it could be. It was romantic, he was charming, and you were finally able to hold a conversation with the man. 

It went so well in fact, that you soon had a second date, and then a third, and then a fourth. And after the fifth date, you found out personally that Aaron Hotchner really did enjoy having cinnamon rolls for breakfast. 

In fact, he enjoyed it so much, he went back for seconds.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer

*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*

Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?

*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*

What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?

*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*

Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.

*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*

Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!

*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*

Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!

*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*

Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.

*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*

If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.

*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*

Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.

*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*

Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!

*text rapidly rolls across screen*

[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]

[marwhoa]

request: hi hil! I read your work and it was amazing! I was hoping you would write the rise boys with a vigilante s/o? (Gn) but the boys don't know that yet and one day s/o is fighting the foot or someone, you decide, then their turtle bf shows up and helps them. S/o forgot they were in costume for a minute before running to their turtle in shining shell and kissing them, so it turns into a whole thing and s/o unmasks themself, how do the boys react??

🝮 “ violet virus ”

rise!donnie x vigilante!g/n

author’s note: eeee !! Gosh I’ve been meaning to post for months, but multiple x readers always stump me. I like making each a completely different story, and sometimes that ends up with me writing waaaay too much. So! I separated this one into a solo. Raph Mikey and Leo will be their own post since I imagine they’ll be much shorter… unless I’m a little freak again and write too much 😭😭. Sheldon’s speech will be the same color as Donnie’s but in italics :))

word count: 4.5k

“ I don’t understand why you won’t disclose this information, Shelldon. ”

Grumbles the turtle clad in purple as he sits on the floor of his lab. Tools are strewn around within reaching distance, framing him, Shelldon, and the computer plugged into the robot boy. The screen displayed a long history of access points to Shelldon’s database—none of which Donnie had the clearance for.

Odd.

A little sigh plays from the little bot’s speakers as his digital eyes shift elsewhere.

“ The information you seek is, like, confidential, dude! ”

“ Whuh—not only are you keeping secrets from your father, but you would even ‘dude’ your own father?! Poppycock! ”

Frustrated, Donnie throws his hands in the air, eyes fixated on the display screen. Error sounds growled through the computer’s speakers each time his program attempted to break through its encryption.

Just who could write an encryption code that could thwart even Donnie?

“ It just makes no sense. As not only your father but also creator, I should have complete access to any and all of your databases. Is this a rebellious development, update 1.2?! ”

Shelldon rolls over, groaning out in annoyance. He couldn’t just flat-out tell him, “ oh papà! you mustn’t worry, i am only hiding the identity of a certain vigilante you’ve yet to encounter! “, no, no, that would be absurd.

That would be a betrayal to you, Donnie’s kindhearted significant other who just couldn’t stand for the Purple Dragons’ treatment towards your dearest darling dear. I mean, what partner would stand on the sidelines as a measly cheerleader in the face of someone daring to disrespect YOUR boyfriend? Quite literally the smartest man alive (probably)?

It didn’t help your case that you were pretty powerless, aside from some scrounged-up determination, a pinch of courage, and a heavy dosage of computer expertise. Nothing up to par with Donnie, but it was remarkable by human’s standards. Combine that with the help of a sentient robot named Shelldon, and you were a force to stand on equal footing with that malicious group of super-nerd-punks.

Watching Donnie writhe with frustration, Shelldon can’t help but hope his walls were stronger than his father’s.

“ Maybe it’s nothing to worry about, bro, let’s just—“

“ Nothing to worry about—/nothing to worry about/— oh, it’s nothing to worry about, he says! “

A ding resonating from Shelldon draws Donnie’s attention for a second. His frustration churns, flashing into curiosity. It seems as though some sort of distress message has came through, but with a chime unlike what he’s programmed. Donnie drops his head with a laughter akin to a parent reaching their breaking point.

“ Oh-ho-ho, dear son of mine, ”

Mouth open, ready to retort with a snarky tone, Donnie raises his head up but holds his tongue at the sight.

An uncharacteristic silence blankets the robot-boy. Shelldon’s eyes begin to flicker until they beam with deep, velvety-purple hue.

Donnie flinches, shielding his eyes from the bright LEDs as he pointed and snapped his fingers.

“ AH-HAH! See, I knew it. This IS a problem! ”

Shelldon rises to his feet and turns robotically before then breaking into a brisk sprint. The cord plugged into him snatches the laptop a few feet before it ultimately yanks from Shelldon’s socket. Before Donnie could call him to return, his son shifts to quite literally propelling himself out of the lair from the rocket launchers in his feet.

Coughing and waving away the residual smoke, Donnie squints at Shelldon’s rapidly disappearing silhouette. He groans exasperatedly as his hands pull at nonexistent hair.

“ Damn it, I knew he wasn’t old enough to have those installed, Shelldon!! ”

Grabbing his tech-bo, Donnie wasted no time in following right after him.

——-

While your poor partner-in-crime found himself under his father’s interrogation, you are none-the-wiser as your fingers skirt across a keyboard. Your purple gloves whir quietly as they accelerate the computer’s performance—the faster you get out, the better. The display’s light shone on your outfit, one befitting a vigilante’s need for secrecy. Your hair was held back by a bandana while your face was obscured by a half-mask from the bridge of your nose to your jaw. A pair of glasses rested upon it with a little purple ‘ D ‘ logo in the corner.

A long sleeve turtle neck covered your arms and torso with angular purple lines following the underside of your arms and down your sides, tucked into a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. The pants tucked into a sturdy pair of boots, all matching with black and purple. If the light caught you in the right way though, then the faintest detail of smaller purple embellishment akin to the lines running along a modem board would shimmer.

That was a detail you were most proud of, albeit purely cosmetic.

But never mind that, you manage to squirrel your way into a hub room of sorts with large metal cabinets filled to the brim with wirings, likely powering the entire lair. The floor occasionally lit up with the rush of purple LED lights pulsing through thin indents on the floor. You didn’t know what information they carried or to where, but that was not your current concern.

“ Alright, Dragons, what are you looking for with the OKE YX23 system’s blueprints… ”

You whisper to yourself. As streams of data rapidly scroll across the screens, you soak it all up through a pair of modified glasses. They accelerate your comprehension and store databases chock full of what you saw in seconds. It was a neat gadget born of your own genius, albeit with just a bit of help from your beloved Donnie.

“ Supersuits? Why super… ”

Squinting, you slow your feverish typing pace and pinch your fingers on the projected hologram to zoom in and section off a few documents. Blueprints upon blueprints flood your senses, designs for all types of suits, each fully equipped for specific situations calling for varying levels of strength, agility, dexterity, and more. A few documents even detail their uses, discussing ideal fantasies of potential war use.

“ No… No way! This is.. I have to send all this data over to Shelldon. ”

Removing your glasses, you tap the shell icon at the top corner of the left lens to send it all to your partner in crime, Shelldon. As a low chime resonates from the glasses, confirming a successful message delivered, you stare at the purple D logo. Your thumb strokes it fondly as you purse your lips in contemplation.

“ Once I’m done with these dragons, maybe… Maybe it’s time to tell him who I am.. ”

You idle for a moment, your free hand balling in and out of a fist beside you. Wracking your head for answers, your thumb began to stroke the pad of your folded index finger as a sort of grounding measure.

“ … For now, I’ll put a pin in that, I need to figure out how to get out of here. ”

As you shift away from the computer to head out, a loud clanging of the door being forced shut in front of you was enough to set off alarms in your head. Paling, you click your boot’s heel against the cold metal floor a few times. There, you had planted one of your small gadgets to allow quick and easy hacking. It was an attempt to connect and override the system to get the door open, but as you’re met with nothing save for the soft thuds of your foot, a heavy pressure weighs on your chest.

They must have found you out. How long have they known you were here?

Goosebumps scurry along your arm as you look over your shoulder for the compressed hiss of doors mechanically sliding open. Previously hidden doors pulled apart to reveal a hidden hallway and a bot stepping through, its digital gaze settled on you while its heavy footfalls shook the room.

“ Ohhhh noooo… ”

Dragging out the syllables, the blueprints you just saw on the screen were currently whirring to life before you. At the sound of a grating, familiar cackle playing through the contraption’s speakers, your blood chills.

Not good.

“ Looks like a rat slipped through the cracks. ”

You could recognize her voice anywhere. What’s your escape route now? Have they closed all of them off? God, you did not prepare for a fight today—that was NOT on the itinerary!

“ Perfect opportunity to see what these puppies can do though. ”

Fully facing the super-suit occupied by Kendra, you take a hesitant step back as your eyes scan the room. They land on a rather ordinary looking door on your far left, equidistant to you both. The chance to get some distance is all too tempting.

Unfortunately, just as your foot raises to break into a bolt, an “ ah, ah, ah~ ” taunts through the mech’s speaker as it sends a projectile whisking past you with a high pitched pachoo! The object sparks against the wall it strikes and ignites instantly. You can’t help the spike in fear shooting through you internally as the blast destroys part of the room and sends debris flying.

With barely a chance to gather your bearings, your gaze raises helplessly as the bulky suit Kendra was operating closed the gap between you both and slammed a heavy fist towards you. It strikes the ground with a heavy THUMP, leaving a dent that was barely off enough to feel comfortable. You raise your hand to the purple logo on your glasses that sends an S.O.S. distress call to your man-in-the-chair, Shelldon.

Scrambling to get away, you lunge towards one of the wire-filled cabinets palms-first in an attempt to hack and utilize some to your advantage. Before your program fully engaged, you’re yanked away full-force and sent skidding across the floor. In your peripheral you notice two more of these suits enter the room. This is hardly the time to get distracted, you scold yourself, glancing back to Kendra in a nick of time.

“ Shit, shit, shit, shit!! ”

You scream, narrowly dodging a shrapnel of metal whisking past your ducked head and embedding itself into the opposite wall.

“ ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! ”

Through a dramatic display of physical prowess, you screech and lunge every which way to avoid each zipping attack the bot sends towards you. To make matters worse, two more robotic suits emerge from behind the first.

“ That could’ve killed me, you runts! ”

Glaring, you turn your gaze to the maniacally laughing trio of super-nerds, donning what appeared to be the exact same super suits in the documents, all said to be powered by an all-too-powerful AI-chip. The suits’ reflexes are swift n’clean, ran by a superior digital brain that seems to be predicting all your movements even before you know them. In any other circumstances, you would have marveled in their presence.

However, right now it serves as too-great of a foe for you alone. In a pathetic display to keep up, you try to stand your ground against the super suits in a recipe of chaos that ends with you cornered and exhausted.

“ Now, now, Violet Virus,”

The leader, Kendra, steps towards you in a suit designed for strength. It’s bulky, intimidating, and an overall pain. You almost wonder if sheer artillery built into that suit was enough to single-handedly replace an entire army.

Behind her stood Jeremy in a suit built for speed—it’s racing LEDs left you dizzy if you stared too long and was designed to reach speeds fast enough that the residual shock alone might be enough to give your eardrums a hell of a jolt. Its fit was slim and sharp, fitting for the purpose.

Last is Jason, who..

Well..

He didn’t have some flashy suit for some reason.

Honestly, it seems more like just a prop suit. You didn’t even know if it did anything—to be frank, it kind of looked like they picked it up at Spirit Halloween.

“ You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. ”

Kendra’s suit thuds towards you, crouching in front of you. Her robotic hand reaches out to grip your chin between the thumb and index.

“ But that’s all I’ll give you. “

You’re starting to get antsy, mentally begging Shelldon to hurry up in helping you out of this ordeal. In the mean time, you muster the meanest glare, peering through the visual retinas of the machine. The speaker picks up her low scoff.

“ Well, maybe I should reward our little idiot for that signal to our friend,Othello von Ryan. ”

The boys behind her share a laugh in response.

“ … Who? ”

Confused, you yank from her grip, teeth bared in disgust. As powerless as you are to super-suits, an idiot was no where near appropriate to describe you. In fact, to say you were a vigilante with nothing but your boyfriend’s robot under your belt was a lie.

See, your outfit was littered with all types of covert gadgets. This included a pair of gloves and boots to match with dull, illuminated swirls under the pads of your fingers and heels of your feet. Within those swirling pools of light happened to be lie dozens of little terminals awaiting for your command to reshape and hack into any dormant or idle appliances and tech within range.

Pinned to the ground in a sitting position, your hands laid palms down on either side of your body and feet flat to carry out the rest of this operation. So long as they keep their focus on you, they will be completely blind-sided by your retaliation. Inaudible over the commotion, a low groan of circuitry in the walls bowed as your programs seep into their systems.

“ I don’t know who that is, but you’re crazy if you think this battle is in any of your favors! ”

You growled out as the ceilings cave from serpentine cables raining sparks haphazardly. Your program had sent a sort of “ suicidal-sentience ” command through nearby wires that influenced them to rip apart and focus an assault on the super-suits.

Kendra growls in annoyance as metal panels from above knock her to the ground. The limbs of her robotic suit are then coiled up by the snake-like wires. She turns to see a similar fate befalling Jason.

But not Jeremy.

“ Oh, but it is in my favor. ”

Kendra cocked her head in Jeremy’s direction, grinning with an energy that sent shivers down your spine. His suit was equipped with speeds your program couldn’t fathom keeping up with, and as his suit whipped to your side before you could try to run, you were struck and pinned flat against the floor.

“ That was a clever yet feeble attempt. See, we know all about your assets. ”

Kendra recovers quick as she moves her suit to rip the cables off her.

“ … What assets!?”

You kick your legs, trying to get free. Just how much do they know? What do they know? What or which assets could they mean? You hold your tongue in fear of spilling information to potential bluff.

Amidst your confusion, Kendra doesn’t seem too impressed. She might have burst a fuse if not for Jeremy clearing his throat and intervening.

“ What she means, Violet Virus, is we intercepted your help signal. ”

The hair on the back of your neck rose up.

That explains the lack of indication from Shelldon that he received your signal. Your expression sours with worry. What use did they have with him? And wait, Othello von Ryan—

“ You didn’t honestly think you could serve any sort of threat to us, right? Had you even considered that we—practical GENIUSES of the modern technological age—may not have planned to stop at these suits? ”

—Wasn’t that one of Donnie’s aliases?

Kendra roughly shoves Jeremy aside as she crouches back down to eye-level with you. In this moment, you begin to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe—

“ Your naïveté is sickeningly cute, Vivi, this wasn’t our goal. ”

—you might have bitten off more than you can chew.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Panic was washing over you.

With ice coursing through your veins, you thought about calling Donnie. Maybe if you confess everything about being Violet Virus, he’ll come help?

Or, would he be mad that you kept such a secret and did something so reckless by yourself? A heat wells up in your chest, igniting a fight with the chills. Flashes of hot and cold ran over you as the pieces fell into place.

How long have they known you were working with Shelldon?

Did they let you sneak in this far?

Were you just a stepping stone to get Shelldon?

…

Do they know your identity?

Your mouth dries at that notion. You need to hurry and turn these tides, but before you could put any plan forth, the wall beside you crumbles as a familiar short stature burst through.

The little robot gave heavy thuds as his feet rose and fell against the floor without any personality.

How did everything go so wrong?

“ Shelldon? “

Tone low, hardly loud enough to even be a whisper, you stared wide-eyed at a robot without a twinge of the boy you knew.

“ Shelldon’s not his name anymore, Violet Virus. ”

Kendra’s suit rises above you then moves to tower beside Shelldon. She raises her mechanical hand and rests it firmly on his shoulder.

“ This is Pulverizer now! ”

A series of “ no’s ” fall from your lips as you scramble to your feet and close the gap between you and Shelldon. Your hands tremble around him, unsure where to rest while Kendra breaks down in laughter beside you both.

You could see the computing of some program flickering behind Shelldon’s eyes, indicated some software actively downloading. He remained unfazed by your presence.

“ Shelldon, no, no, no, what are they doing to you?! I have to get you out of here, I’m so—“

“ Pulverizer, engage combat program ZG.09X, ”

Kendra interjects, barking some sort of command. You glance to her then back to Shelldon, baffled as he seems to respond only to that and not any of your efforts. Your eyes widen as his arm begins reeling back.

“ What did they do to y—“

A quick thwack interrupts you as Shelldon socks you across the jaw with a force so heavy it sends you to the floor a few feet. The hit cracked and crumbled part of your mask as bits of it sprinkle the path from Shelldon to where you’d landed. Your glasses had been slightly bent from your head knocking against the floor. The pain throbs through your skull, ebbing from the cheek your hand rose to caress in disbelief.

“ D-Donnie.. ”

As you stared at Shelldon thunking towards you, you couldn’t help but tremble and wish you weren’t alone. This was too much for you, and you found yourself imagining what it would have been like if you had teamed up with Donnie in the beginning instead of being a solo-hero.

Shelldon reels his arm back again, and you raise yours in a feeble attempt to shield yourself.

Shutting your eyes tight, you brace for the impact.

“ SHELLDON, PROTOCOL BOGEY-DOWN 61E9 ACTIVATE! ”

“ What—!? ”

Kendra whips her head around towards the same entrance Shelldon initially created.

You stare wide eyed as your boyfriend bursts in and shouts a command to Shelldon. His dramatic entrance is punctuated by him riding his tech-bo like a hoverboard.

Donnie jumps off, landing straight into Kendra’s mech with enough force to topple it over. He casts a glance in your direction, squints with suspicion, but then turns back to Kendra.

“ I knew it—SEE, I knew it! ”

The purple-banded turtle paces in front of the dazed Kendra, throwing his hands up in frustration. He stops to point back and forth between Shelldon and the rest of the Purple Dragons.

“ Who else could be meddling with MY son’s database but this group of wannabes! “

“ W-Wannabes? Othello von Ryan, this is whe.. damn.. ”

Winded, Kendra takes a pause to catch her breath. Jason tries to come and help her up but gets swatted away immediately. Angrily, she huffs and operates the suit to shove itself back onto its feet.

“ Get AWAY from me, Jase, UGH! Othello Von Ryan, prepare to be defeated by our revenge! Pulverizer, engage combat program ZG.734! ”

She cackles maniacally, jabbing a finger in Donnie’s direction. When Shelldon doesn’t move, the speaker goes quiet for a few beats.

Then, it starts playing a bunch of loud clanks, likely from Kendra frustratedly hitting things inside the suit.

Donnie, however, glances at Shelldon then back at Kendra and stomps his foot. He points an accusatory finger in her direction.

“ Oh by Galileo, if you lot did anything nefarious to Shelldon’s programming, so help me! ”

Sheldon’s fist wavers a few inches from you as different lines of code scroll past his eyes, registering the command Donnie called out. After hearing Kendra’s command, the lines of code began rapidly switching direction until a click resounds. He blinks a few times then looks down at you.

“ No! Damn it, what happened!? ”

Kendra pummels the ground enough times to leave a hefty dent.

Donnie scoffs at her, crouching to stare into the visual receptors of the mech-suit.

“ I see you did not consider I may have created an anti-dragons program with the idea that you would want to control my tech again, did you? ”

As Shelldon came back to his senses, he glanced every which way in confusion. One second he was being interrogated, the next..

“ Your distress signal! Y/—I mean, Violet Virus, bro, what’s the haps? How’d I get here? Ohh, Donnie’s gonna be so pissed at me, dude, he almost found out ab—“

You gawk at Shelldon’s loud voice, shushing him loudly. Whispering, you quickly scold him.

“ Shelldon! We can discuss it later, but right now we need to get out of h—“

As you gesture to leave, you are instead met with Donnie being sent flying straight into you. Your foreheads collide as you’re sent back against the ground with him dazed over you.

“ Technologically advanced mecha suits is an upgrade from our last encounter, I’ll give you that! ”

One of Donnie’s hands rests beside your head while the other holds his forehead, rubbing where you both collided. He groans in pain.

Similarly, you hold both hands against your forehead and writhe dramatically beneath Donnie at the pain echoing from not just your lower jaw where Shelldon struck you, but your forehead too now.

“ Ow, ow, oww! Donnie, that… that.. hurt.. ”

Your voice peters off as you look up at him. The fear was already beginning to melt away as your eyes scan across his face. He had such an uncanny habit of coming when you called, and this situation was no different. As relief washes over you, you forget yourself for a second and reach to give him a kiss. You’re just so lucky to have someone so dependable as him, even in situations where he didn’t mean it. You vow to tell him everything after this.

As your hands cup the sides of his face, Donnie opens his eyes to see you leaning in.

“ Whoa—HEY? ”

Mechanical limbs splay out of his shell and quickly put distance between you and him, stirring a squeak of surprise from you as he stares at you bewildered.

“ I don’t know you! This is a complete violation of personal space and my individual rights! ”

He shouts in disbelief, covering himself like a woman caught naked.

… Oh..

Oh yeah.

Your face flushes with embarrassment instantly. Right now you aren’t Donnie’s girlfriend, but rather Violet Virus. You stand up, ready to explain yourself, only to be immediately knocked back down to your knees as an explosion from another one of Kendra’s projectiles goes off behind you. Donnie’s attention shifts from you to the Purple Dragons.

“ What sort of looney tries to kiss stranger during combat, he exclaims in disbelief! ”

Donnie vents aloud as he twirls his tech-bo around his body. Generating enough speed from the action, he then lunges towards Kendra. Right before he strikes, his index taps a button on the shaft of the swirling bo. Its speed increases as the tip shifts into a hammer-like shape and propels like a rocket to clock Kendra’s super-suit mech across the face. The strike is heavy enough that the robot’s head twists and twists the wrong direction until it pops clean off.

“ No, it’s not like that—and don’t call me a looney! Just, you know me! ”

“ No I don’t! The nerve of some people. I feel the need to add I am a happily taken man! “

You stumble over your words as you try to explain yourself. Slamming your palms against the floor, you inject another offensive virus into the room’s system as your glasses accelerate your visual capacities to keep up with Jeremy’s suit. Just as the program goes into effect, you’re pulled back as Jason’s arm catches your neck in his elbow.

He pulls you back, choking you as the program sets loose through the wires held in the cabinet. The cables surge out and land upon Jeremy’s suit, connecting to ports and lighting it up with enough power to overload and shut down the entire contraption. He gets lit up like a Christmas tree for a second before the suit slams into the ground non-responsive.

You hear a low ‘ damn it! ‘ from inside his suit.

Kicking your feet to try and be free from Jason’s grip, you’re let go only after Shelldon lands one of his heavy, rocket-powered punches to send the boy across the room. Even though he’s an enemy, you wince sympathetically at how much that must’ve hurt.

“ Thanks Shelldon.. ”

You murmur, rubbing your neck. Shelldon beams with pride towards you until Donnie steps between you both. His mechanical spider limbs shooting out once more to make some distance between you two.

" I’d appreciate you not fraternizing with the enemy, Shelldon. ”

He steps away from you and closer to Shelldon.

“ But Donnie, Violet Virus isn’t the enemy! ”

“ Yeah, I’m not an enemy, Donnie, just listen to me for a second! ”

“ Firstly, Shelldon, you’re on a friendly name basis with this fiend?! And secondly, Violet Virus, how do you know who I am? Does my reputation exceed me, I wonder? ”

He pauses for a moment to think to himself, likely basking in the idea of his popularity reaching farther, then shakes away the thought. Donnie takes a few steps closer to you with an intimidating air.

“ This is no good, no, no. Violet Virus, might it have been you who— Hold on. ”

As his gaze fixates on your glasses, you sharply suck in a breath by accident. Coughing, everything you wanted to say caught up too quick for even a single word to slip out. You needed to tell him! What will he think, that you’re a thief?

“ Wait—“

“ How do you have that, that’s.. Wait. ”

He crosses his arms, tapping his index against his bicep as he circles around you. Donnie stops in front of you, hums something mid-thought, then cracks a smile.

“ Ah, I get it now. How clever you are, my dear. ”

“ What? ”

You hesitate as he closes the gap between you both. His face softens as his hands make quick work of sliding your broken mask off. Without needing to explain a word, it seems he made quick work of who you were.

“ So this is what you’ve been up to.. Why? ”

His hand caresses your cheek.

“ I… Wanted to get back at the Purple Dragons—for you.. ”

Donnie cracks a bigger grin and chuckles, leaning a bit to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

“ We can discuss this when we get home, then. ”

[hotwaterandmilk]

2024 English language manga releases I'm enjoying

Here are a couple of titles I've picked up in English so far this year that I've enjoyed. Most of these I read digitally in Japanese for one or two volumes a couple of years back, but opted to wait and purchase the English print versions for my collection.

I feel like all of these books are worth the purchase price, but don't have the energy to do individual posts for each of them. So here's a very smooshed together post covering a few 2024 reads.

GOGOGOGO-GO-GHOST! from Yen Press

Akechi Ushiro is a heavily flawed, hard-working woman whose disregard for her own wellbeing results in her coming face-to-face with her equally flawed guardian spirit, Masako. The pair decide to combine their forces and begin tackling the obstacles in Ushiro's life using curses.

Hiruzuka Miyako's darkly funny tale of a woman taking control of her life alongside her queer sister spirit is such a delight . Featuring a rough-and-ready art style that helps underscore the macabre elements at play, the entire first volume is scathing in its humour and unashamed in its portrayal of Ushiro's flaws. I was surprised when this one got picked up by Yen Press a while back, but so happy to see it enjoying a stateside release. If you're after something that doesn't always play nice, GOGOGOGO-GO-GHOST! might well be for you.

Edit: If you haven't read it before, this Japanese interview with Hiruzuka is worth reading for a bit more on her background and the creation of the series.

Pass the Monster Meat, Milady! (Akujiki Reijou to Kyouketsu Koushaku) from Kodansha USA

A sweet little fantasy romance between two individuals who find solace in one another despite being reviled by the general public for their interest in monsters. One loves defeating monsters in battle while the other loves cooking them!

Melphiera is a smart, capable heroine while Aristide Rogier du Galbraith is a dashing and supportive hero. The manga art is a bit low in detail, but the characters and story are absolutely worth your time. I'd love to see the LNs that the manga adapts in English someday too. I mentioned in tags before this whole series gives me the types of vibes I enjoy in historical fantasy romance novels, so if you like that kind of content this might be a good title to check out (or recommend to friends who appreciate romantasy but haven't tried manga before).

In The Name of The Mermaid Princess (Mio no Na no Moto ni) from VIZ Media

In a country where being "unhuman" or in some way supernaturally inclined is seen as a curse rather than a blessing, Princess Mio takes medications to suppress her mermaid-esque traits and please her father. Her perspective changes when Yuri, a tutor from her fiance's home kingdom, encourages her to be herself and embrace the things that make her different.

I've seen people say this is a bit too obvious in its parallels between fantasy oppression and IRL issues, but this is a Ribon manga for young girls so yeah it's on the nose but I think it works for the audience it has in mind. Tashiro Miya's artwork here is gorgeous and both leads are quite endearing (Mio is SO freakin adorable I can'ttttt). Overall a solid little series with nicely packaged volumes for those after something for a younger audience.

The Moon on a Rainy Night (Amayo no Tsuki) from Kodansha USA

A romantic slice-of-life tale featuring two high school girls, one of whom is a budding pianist (Saki) and the other a loner who is hard of hearing (Kanon).

I don't normally go much on high school romance but the way this series blends classic GL melodrama tropes with genuine issues in an earnest manner works for me. While we see things more from Saki's viewpoint as she eagerly tries to learn more about Kanon and tries to figure out her own sexuality, we do also come to understand Kanon's thwarted ambitions and the difficulties she has with letting people in.

Kuzushiro's art is quite whispy and cute, with all the characters tending to look quite well-realised on the page. While I prefer romances that feature a character with disability to centre their perspective, I do feel this does a decent job of portraying both girls as they try to navigate their deepening relationship. YMMV on this though, particularly if you are d/Deaf or hard of hearing.

Sketchy from Kodansha USA

Ako is living an unfulfilling life with a dull job and even duller boyfriend, but she suddenly finds herself thrust into a whole new world upon encountering a mysterious young skateboarder.

Sketchy, while ostensibly about women taking up skateboarding is more a snapshot of their individual lives and the role having a hobby plays once you're no longer a child. Ako's story particularly resonates with me (I literally worked her job at a similar age) but all the characters prove interesting in their own way.

Makihirochi's art is a bit more experimental than others on this list and may not be to everyone's taste, but I do think Sketchy is still worth checking out even if you're not entirely sold on the art (which I think has improved since I first became familiar with her work through Itsuka Tiffany de Choushoku o in Comic Bunch). Titles like this, which, let's face it, have low level of mainstream appeal, don't often get English language releases so I highly recommend supporting this one if you have the opportunity to do so.

[aventurinemybeloved]

Summary: Aventurine wouldn't mind being your personal mannequin forever if it meant having you this close to him

Fem!reader who's a popular fashion designer all throughout the universe, currently just "friends" with aventurine here, more like sugar daddy tho- very self indulgent because I have my oc in mind while writing this lol

"Not that I'm questioning your process when it comes to your craft, but aren't you tired?"

"Hm nope, not at all are you?"

"I've handled far worse than just standing for a few hours, don't mind me friend, continue"

While that wasn't exactly a lie, it has been a couple of hours since Aventurine was made to be a makeshift mannequin for you, this was supposed to be a day to relax and take both your mind off work.

But it seems that inspiration has struck the minute you laid eyes on a particular fabric store that just got a new stock on a handful of interesting designs, without a second thought you rushed in, your companion had looked away for one second and the next he sees that you've already made yourself comfortable shuffling through the many options to choose from.

As he made his way back to your side, the faint sound of you mumbling under your breath could be heard clearer and clearer, while he didn't quite catch all of it, he was able to piece some things, one of which you wishing you had your mannequin back at the boutique right about now.

"Hey, why not use me for a bit?"

While Aventurine obviously isn't a mannequin, he can sure act like one if you need it, and that you did so you agreed without putting much thought into it, making a mental note to make him a little something as thanks.

And now here you two were, in the middle of the store as you try to pin fabric with your hands on Aventurine's body, he expected this to happen after all he's not the type to willingly volunteer for something without it benefiting him in some way, but he was not prepared for how close you'd be.

Practically an inch away from him, chest against his as you maneuver the fabric in your hands all over him trying to come up with a design in mind, his nose catching a whiff of your shampoo as the top of your head was practically in his face, he's mastered the art of keeping a poker face but a couple hours of this, no one can blame the man for cracking as time goes on.

Luckily for him it seems you've finally finished whatever it was you were doing, he can't even remember even though you were talking about it earlier, his mind growing muddled with serotonin.

He managed to snap out of it as you call over a worker to place an order for your chosen items, and of course pay for it, Aventurine beat you to it though handing his card while softly smiling.

"It's on me"

"What? Aventurine I can pay for it myself, there's really no need to-"

"I insist, it's a treat for how much I enjoyed being your little helper"

Just as you were about to contradict him, insisting even more that you should be the one paying since he already helped you, the worker has already swiped his card handing it back to him and walked off to prepare your order.

You could only facepalm, this wasn't the first time that he has thwarted your attempts at paying for your own things, he's done it so many times you've lost count, and while it's a fact that all of it combined wouldn't make a dent in his wallet, you still couldn't hell but feel guilty.

Not for long though as you could feel a hand gently patting your head, peaking up at him you could see a soft smile on his face.

"You know the deal~" he said in a singsong way

You playfully rolled your eyes

"Yeah yeah, Just let me know when you're free and we'll hang out again"

It was weird to you at first how that was the only thing he wanted after spending so much on you, but overtime you've sorta started to understand it, and want it as much as he does as well.

[vidavalor]

Hello!

Very often I see criticism mounted at Aziraphale that he treats Crowley like a pet or that he lords himself over Crowley by using his angelic status, reminding him constantly that he’s a demon. Obviously Aziraphale has character flaws as much as any other character but I’ve always found those criticisms harsh (harsher then any leveled against Crowley at least) and was wondering your thoughts?

Hi there. 💕 Thanks for the ask & hope that you're having a good start to your week. There are iced tea and sugar cookies today, if you're hungry.

These people certainly don't think much of Crowley if they think he'd be madly in love with someone who treated him poorly?

Crowley and Aziraphale are as tongue-in-cheek about their use of 'angel' and 'demon' as they are about any other Heaven/Hell terms that they use. Aziraphale doesn't actually know why he's still an angel when he's done more to "thwart the will of God" than most of the demons combined. Being an angel isn't something he's especially proud of-- it's more a source of pain and confusion for him. He does not treat Crowley like a pet-- I'm not even going to dignify that lunacy with a formulated response lol-- nor does he "lord his angelic status" over him because Aziraphale doesn't believe he has a superior status to Crowley. He adores Crowley.

Words like 'demon' and 'fiend' have multiple meanings. Not even just in the sense of Crowley and Aziraphale having a hidden language-- just currently in existence in our world. A demon is someone who is also someone who is very skilled in an area. A fiend is someone who is passionate about something or very focused with a real determination towards something. If you honestly look at a scene like the one below and think that you're watching Aziraphale "lord his angelic status" over Crowley, I'm afraid you might be missing the humor:

If anyone wants meta on just how healthy they are, you can wade through the Apology Dance-centric deep dive I posted yesterday which gets into both of them being wonderfully flawed characters. There are some other posts about Aziraphale and his various Heaven traumas in the pinned post on my blog but I'd say that most recent one is probably best suited for what you're talking about.

I suspect a certain amount of silly Aziraphale hate is just young people whose nascent sexualities have been stirred up by Crowley. Clearly, they have good taste where that's concerned. Can't fault them there. 😊 This stuff isn't new-- every fandom has it. There were people who thought Scully was toxic because she didn't believe in Mulder's every wackadoodle theory when, really, it was just the young having a bit of a sexual awakening around Mulder. Not being able to see both characters in a fictional romantic partnership as flawed is usually the byproduct of being young and having a crush on one of them.

When we more fully grown people develop crushes on fictional characters, we're a bit more objective about the fact that they're all disasters, if sexy disasters. 😂 We don't begrudge the fictional characters their fictional romantic partners and are mature enough/experienced enough with life to appreciate the romance. Cut the kids some slack. Crowley's tight jeans have just gone to their heads, is all. We've all been there. One day, they'll appreciate Aziraphale for the fucking brilliant character he is and see how he and Crowley are terrific together.

[doonarose]

31 Authors. 100 Chapters. Over 100,000 words. Over 100 different journeys.

Written as part of the @goodomensafterdark Smut War!

To watch the cinematic masterpiece that is the trailer - and get a pretty good idea of what this behemoth fic is about - Click Here!(Epic thanks to u/IneffableCrankShaft and u/FourCatsAndCounting!)

To check out the fic's Bingo Card so you can play along – Click Here! (Thanks to FuzzyGoblin!)

CW/TW: Lots!!! All triggers are clearly listed at the start of each chapter they feature in and the fic is comprehensively tagged on AO3. Major warnings for parts of the fic include: dubcon, snake sex, under-negotiated kink, spanking/impact play, figging, and watersports/pissplay, all of which can be navigated around as needed!

Summary: Having thwarted yet another attempt at ending the world, Aziraphale and Crowley are, in fact, ready to have sex now. Just how successful their sex shall be depends on the discerning decision-making of you, dear reader…

More than thirty authors combine to bring you over one hundred possible ways that the first night at the South Downs cottage might play out. Aziraphale and Crowley - and you - will embark on a thrilling voyage of self-discovery from which no one will emerge unchanged.

Enormous thanks to all our writers: u/Admingumbo, u/AngelZash, u/Blackjeans93, u/-Cheeseplants-, u/Schmengie01, u/Doonarose, u/ElysiumLeo90, u/Fishey_Me, u/FuzzyGoblinoid, u/Gaiaseyes, u/GlitteringPeanut42, u/Hakunahistata, u/Harlotofupdog, u/IneffablyRuined, u/Intelligent-Dragon, u/Kiripin, u/KotiasCamorra, u/Lemon-Tart-221, u/Likeafuckingninja, u/MrsCakeIsHere, u/Natyu0815, u/Niknak90, u/PaperclipNinja, u/Pepper_Bird, u/-Polychrome, u/Savyl_Steelfeather, u/StartledPlatypus, u/TransplantedMate, u/UKCalico, u/WingsofOpal, u/y2bx, and u/Zin_Lynn

Thanks also to our betas: u/SouthernFriedAmy, u/DBacklot99, u/NegotiationReal6508, u/CrystalSilhouette, and u/badbitchbarenziah

And thanks to all the mods and members of this amazing sub and especially those in the Writer’s Guild!

Start you journey now on AO3

Or come and join the party on reddit!

[aziraphales-library]

hi! i don't know if this ask has been done before but do you have any comedy fic recs? i've had enough of angst for a bit and i just want to read aziracrow bicker and laugh out loud :))

Hey. We have #humour, #humor, #crack, and #bickering tags, for all your laughing needs. Here are more to add...

Seamstress of Soho by GayDemonicDisaster (M)

Season 2 spoilers! When Mrs. Sandwich spots a suspicious new guy apparently lurking on her turf, the misunderstanding leads to an unlikely friendship between the ‘seamstress’ and a demon. So in episode 6 we see that Mrs. Sandwich is clearly at ease with Crowley and he with her, enough to share a joke together. Combine that with the curious sign on her door which might just be referring to Crowley, and we have a little buddy comedy in the making. I decided to explore the backstory of how they came to know one another between season 1 and the beginning of season 2. While this little comedy is about sex workers, there is NO sex in it, and rated M solely for oblique references to things like contraceptive devices and so on - honestly it could get away with a “teen and up” rating but I like to err on the side of caution.

Pass the Remote, Angel by Mrs_Cake_Is_Here (M)

Aziraphale has returned to Heaven, leaving Crowley a tv binge-watching wreck. However, healing can come from the most unlikeliest of places. While Muriel has been instructed to provide daily reports of the demon’s emotional state, they find that sharing time together, even by watching a scary show, can be the catalyst that builds friendships. And they’d probably both be couch potatoes by now if the Supreme Archangel hadn’t just gone missing.

Christmas Lights by FuzzyGoblin (T)

Christmas Lights is on the agenda at the monthly meeting of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association, but it's not the only thing on Mr Brown's, of Brown's World of Carpets, mind. As he pines for the mysterious bookseller, his efforts are thwarted by the tall ginger goth.

The Book Thieves by ThingsJustHappenSometimes (T)

“Did they steal it? Professional book thieves, probably going around in their car stealing books.” Be careful what you tell an adolescent antichrist who has the ability to warp reality, he might just make things real. - - - Featuring: A confused ineffable duo in ridiculous costumes, a presumed relationship, overpowered magical books, meddling humans, multiple chase scenes, and a generally all around silly action-packed time. - - - [If you like 1920s Costumes, Indiana Jones, Isekai Vibes, and/or That-One-Auction-Heist-Scene from Uncharted 4, you’ll like this story.]

Rattle Those Pots & Pans by Mackaley (M)

“My instructions…” He parted his mouth as he searched for a word. “Instruct that I just get right into it. You all have been brought here tonight because you have one thing in common: you’re all being blackmailed.” A tense hush fell through the room. “You’re all paying what you can afford - in some cases I’m sure more than you can afford - to prevent your secrets from being exposed. And none of you know who is currently blackmailing you.” Gabriel scoffed. “This is ridiculous. I’m an upstanding member of the international finance community - what could I possibly have done to be blackmailed about?” “You’re a member of the international finance community,” Crowley drawled. ----- A Good Omens Clue (1985) AU

through the tides by viperinz (T)

With that thought, Aziraphale takes to asking experts if his feelings are something more or just love for his dearest, most sweetest friend. If he wasn’t sure himself, then surely the experts on the internet will have something for him. Which brings him to the front of his computer, ready to search something up on the search engine he has pulled up. He’s not one to ask too many questions, but he supposes it won’t hurt. He starts typing, and is satisfied with his search of "Am I in love with my best friend?" Straight to the point, and very concise. Aziraphale has no doubt he’ll find what he’s looking for. He presses enter on the keyboard, and a bunch of results flood in. “Oh, dear,” he gasps at the mass amount of answers. Where is he supposed to start?

Aziraphale discovers the wonderful world of online love quizzes and WikiHow, all in the process of wooing and confessing his love to Crowley.

- Mod D