#he's such a good candidate for the pining trope

[chronosdawn]

Absolutely losing my mind over the thought of Wriothesley being like: "I don't want to keep you caged here, so instead I'll leave the door open and just hope you keep coming back."

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

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taglist became too long so find the second taglist here💀 no longer taking requests

[manwrre]

i am absolutely ravenous for a jennifer’s body themed harringrove fic. and if i write it, it’ll be purely self indulgent so please don’t make me (make me make me make me).

like, i kid you not, when i say that billy’s the perfect character/candidate for any kind of possession trope. he’s pretty and popular— with his half-wild grin, fervent eyes and untamable hair. he’s smart and charismatic like no one’s business and anyone would be drawn in by him; he’s a perfect homme fatale.

he’s also strong and young. he’s healthy and quick and in his prime, so if a demon really wanted to make an apex predator out of someone, he’d be ideal. because no matter how great of a hunter anyone or anything is, isn’t it all the more rewarding when the prey comes to you?

so i can imagine steve and billy becoming such good freaking friends after the night at the byers’. once he’s sobered up and off the adrenaline high, i know for a fact that the sight of steve’s bruised face would probably make billy sick to his stomach. so he’d apologize, right? and they’d get on like a house on fire because they have sm in common.

it doesn’t take long for them to start crushing on each other (unbeknownst to either party because we love pining). so one night, billy takes steve to this underground metal-grunge club and in steve’s head, it’s a freaking date (and billy’s too). they spend most of the show just wrapped up in each other at the bar and messing around in their familiar, little way that makes steve’s heart race.

until yk, he goes to the bathroom and comes back to find billy’s seat empty. the bartender’s no help, really. he mentions something about billy walking off with a guy and steve’s stumped. he’s hurt because surely, he understood this right, so why would billy leave with someone else? so he waits and waits and waits before heading home, livid.

but imagine his surprise, hours later, when he wakes up to a commotion in his backyard and it’s billy.

billy, whose usually perfect curls are a mess and who looks like he can barely stand on his own two, god-given feet. billy, who snaps his head in steve’s direction at the sound of the door sliding open and stares at him with wide, frantic eyes.

“steve,” his voice cracks and his shoulders slump in what might be relief.

“jesus christ— billy, where the fuck have you been?” steve hisses, dropping the bat and rubbing at his burning eyes because he’s exhausted.

because at the core of it, he’s still pissed that he’d been ditched, of course and so sad and he would hate for billy to see him cry.

that is, until the blonde practically falls into his arms and all steve can do is cradle him against his chest while billy shakes.

he’s cold, like he’s been out here forever in the midwestern fall but he doesn’t seem bothered as he blindly clutches at whichever parts of steve are closest— his shoulders, his arms, his back and presses his face into his neck.

all the while, he’s murmuring something low enough that steve can only pick up bits and pieces; his own name and a mantra of pleasepleasepleasepleaseohgod.

it’s only then that he notices the dark sludge staining the blonde’s clothes and the front of his bare chest; half-dried and pungent and he freezes.

“billy… billy, what’s this? are you hurt?”

and he’s looking him over for a sizable wound because the amount of blood spells nothing less than extensive damage and gore. so it’s safe to say that he’s confused when he finds nothing but a few scratches. nothing that warrants this amount of blood, which means that it’s not his. but,

it’s someone’s.

he doesn’t notice that billy’s stopped moving until he looks up to find the blonde already staring at him, though.

his eyes are damp with unshed tears and he’s got his lower lip caught between his teeth; worrying the skin there. and he looks so far away. closer to the outskirts of hawkins, than here in steve’s backyard.

“steve– i, listen…i just,” he whispers, his brows furrowing and face contorting into something ugly for all of a second; something pained.

when he speaks again, it sounds wet. it sounds wet and he’s so scared. steve’s never seen him this scared.

it makes his own heart race in response; filling the spaces where billy’s must be skipping a beat.

“i think there’s something wrong with me. like really, really, really wrong with me— i dunno what i did, i dunno what to do, god, it was just…i think….”

“steve, i think there’s something inside of me.”

[soleilnomoon]

could i also order a mocha latte with a chocolate (carmel) mousse with some poppy seeds! he/him ftm with eren pls💖

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა ty for your patience, this was a lil labor of love. also i love a good fake dating trope!! and eren, i love him sfm (obvy but yk) 💗💗it's probably more angst than necessary but that's just how i live my life.

2.8k words, ftm reader (he/him pronouns), nsfw, 18+ mdni; hurt/comfort, angst~, smut obvy, some fluff if you squint real hard; modern au feat. fake dating/marriage of convenience, arranged marriage, eren living in denial bc that's what he does best, fingering, a lil bit of tlc on eren's part (shocker), mutual (unrequited) pining. reader is better than me bc i'd never have that much restraint but that's just bc i'm weak (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝); both of them need to get it together *washes hands* (if u see spelling/grammar mistakes, no u didn't (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝))

“i pray you do not fall in love with me, for i am falser than vows made in wine.” — william shakespeare

HORS D’OEUVRE

you remind yourself, for the twentieth time this week, that it’s simply business.

as your parents’ only child, it only made sense that they’d try to marry you off to the highest bidder — the business world is all about making meaningful connections, and you know that better than most. marriage was never something that you envisioned for yourself, but your parents rarely ever demanded anything from you, so the least you could do was adhere to their wishes.

and if you knew your husband-to-be would be this standoffish and hard to read, you might not have agreed — it’s a lie that you like to tell yourself, because it makes it easier to deal with his constant rejection. still, you did sign a contract — one he drafted outside of his parents’ prying eyes, one that he had you sign secretly; that you both agreed to one full year of marriage for appearances, that you refrain from interfering with one another’s private lives, and that you’d never fall in love.

you didn’t think much of it at the time, because there was no way in hell that you would fall in love with a man like eren jaeger. not when he looked at you like you were a nuisance that he was forced to deal with; not when he was so stiff and curt with you whenever you tried to drum up conversation; not when he barely sat for meals with you; and not when he refused to share a bedroom with you after you moved in together.

still, you hold your head up high, determined to see things through; the sooner this sham of a marriage was over, the better.

and eren was of the same mindset.

he argued with his parents until he was so fed up that he had to leave for a few days to calm down; an arranged marriage was always in his future, he just didn’t think it’d happen so soon. maybe it’s because his parents were tired of seeing him galivant with a different partner each week — maybe because the image of their company desperately needed a more family-oriented look (to draw in the masses, of course).

or maybe they wanted to punish him for being impulsive and hard-headed, for not wanting to take the path that was neatly laid out for him, and for simply rejecting the last twenty marriage candidates they presented to him over the past few years.

so, imagine their surprise when eren agreed to marry you — someone who kept to themselves, who didn’t cause trouble for their family, who seemingly looked obedient to the point that it made him sick. he figured the best way for him to live his life would be to use you as a cover up; you didn’t look like the type to complain, nor did you look particularly interested in getting married either.

it was the perfect solution to his problem, and it didn’t hurt that he found you attractive, too. not that he was going to tell you that just yet.

APPETIZER

despite how terrible his personality is, you can’t deny that your husband is handsome. you catch yourself staring at his profile while you wash dishes in the kitchen, eyes lingering on the shape of his jaw as you scrub the same plate over and over. he’s on the phone again, arguing with one of his friends — jean, maybe? — so you’re safe to admire him from afar, like you’ve always done. you try not to do it too openly because he tends to act smug when his ego is stroked, and you don’t have the capacity to deal with that just yet.

but also, more importantly, because you don’t ever want him to know that you’d give anything for him to come over and—

“i don’t care,” eren says loudly, his voice echoing from the adjacent hallway as he paces around. the noise startles you, so you turn to focus on the dishes before sneaking a glance at him again.

eren turns when he feels your eyes on him, and you don’t have a chance to look away fast enough. his eyes are a startling shade of green that matches his intense and audacious personality; you grip the wine glass in your hand a little too hard as he watches you. curiosity at your behavior makes him narrow his eyes and you assume he’s annoyed with you again. except, that’s not true at all.

he’s mostly annoyed with himself.

the marriage, in theory works just fine — he just did not consider the possibility of him developing feelings for you, not after being together for six months already. he finds every excuse to not touch you; barely looking your way in the mornings and evenings — the only time he even shows a modicum of interest is whenever you’re both whisked away to events that require both of you to be in attendance.

it’s out of duty that you comply, but you find it harder and harder as time goes on.

the first time eren kissed you was after you exchanged wedding vows — his lips were much softer than you thought they’d be, and while he’d only intended to give you a quick peck, he’d become entirely too immersed. you’d always found yourself disappointed with past partners because of the way they’d kissed, but eren truly made you feel like you would float for eternity. his hand was warm against the back of your neck, and you thought your heart would shoot out of your chest when his tongue brushed against your lips.

even though your lips parted immediately, eren remembered himself and refused to let himself get carried away. you were a little disappointed when he pulled away, but when you looked up at him you noticed the faint flush on his cheeks. you smiled to yourself, committing the sight to memory — which would become your anchor afterward — and genuinely enjoyed his presence throughout the rest of the evening.

where he was usually gruff and blasé, he’d suddenly become the perfect, loving groom. it unnerved and confused you; he was very adamant about keeping this as superficial as possible.

you wondered if it was part of the act? but if that was the case, why wouldn’t he mention before so you wouldn’t get so caught off guard. it made you skittish whenever his hand brushed against yours, whenever he offered you secret smiles and prolonged looks, and whenever he leaned down to whisper words of encouragement when it seemed like your anxiety over the whole affair was eating you alive.

it helped ground you but did nothing to stop your heart from beating rapidly when the realization set that you were married to him.

but by the time you got into the car to head back home, he sat as far away from you as possible, his posture stiff, expression unreadable. he’d gone from sociable and charming, to his usual petty self.

incredible.

“it’s just business,” he said out loud; you wanted to ask if those words were meant for you, or if they were meant for him. the question never leaves your mouth; you swallow back the rejection as best as you can, steel your features, stare out the window and remind yourself that falling in love with eren jaeger would be your downfall.

ENTRÉE / MAIN COURSE

after that, he makes it a point to only touch you out of necessity; he figures it’s the most logical and diplomatic solution to his problem. jean continues jabbering in his ear about nonsense, and he leans against the kitchen island, eyes tracing down the length of your neck and the slender shape of your shoulders. he really should take his conversation elsewhere, but he’s a masochist without meaning to be.

“uh huh,” he says noncommittally, a heat passing through him the moment you glance his way again — again, you’re doing that thing where you act as if you’ve been caught red-handed, like some doe-eyed deer in the middle of the night. and maybe you are, or maybe it’s all an act.

little does he know, you’re much too aware of his presence now, and your hand slips when you grab a plate and it shatters in the sink.

“damn it,” you say loudly and start to pick up the large pieces without thinking; you cut your hand and try to clean out the wound as best as you can. eren hangs up the phone in the middle of the conversation to make his way over to you; the scent of his cologne suffocates you in the best way, and when you turn and offer a small smile so you can rebuff his offer to help, you hesitate.

“let me see,” he demands, “don’t even think about arguing.” he casts you a sharp glass, one that tells you to behave, and for some reason, you find yourself wondering what would happen if you didn’t follow that command. but eren’s already grabbing onto your wrist and inspecting your palm carefully, long fingers gliding along your skin softly, making you a little dizzy. goosebumps prick your skin down your arms when he drags you to the bathroom so he can properly dress the wound.

you don’t know what to make of any of this; the questions pummel through your throat, bouncing around your mouth, desperate to escape. you never let them, though, and swallow them back with as much patience as you can muster.

“hop on the counter.” he lets go of your hand and rummages through the cabinet; surely, he’s joking, and you stand there stupidly, blinking at him, not moving an inch.

he grabs the first aid kit and narrows his eyes at you, the look he gives you is disarming and he steps close enough to place his hands on either side of you, gripping the counter tightly. “that wasn’t a request, you know.” your skin burns fiercely, and suddenly it’s hard to swallow; you do your best to hop on top of the counter in the minimal amount of space he allows you.

unfortunately for you, he does not let up. eren takes his time cleaning the wound properly before applying some ointment and wrapping it. he holds your hand much more delicately than you’re used to. you watch him, wide-eyed, breathing unevenly as you contemplate how to proceed with this man. for all the bullshit he puts you through, you know he’s lying to himself about his feelings towards you.

especially when he keeps looking at you tenderly, but also with slight annoyance — like he can’t figure out what to do with you yet. on impulse, he leans forward, lips brushing against yours and he knows that if he kisses you, there’s no turning back. you don’t make it any easier for him when you allow him to stand in between your legs, his hands gripping your hips and causing our mind to go blank.

you let out a soft noise, one that nearly incapacitates him; his cock strains at the front of his pants, making everything that much more difficult to deal with.

he knows he should leave, but he can’t — not yet, anyway. it’s eren who grabs the back of your neck and holds you steady as he kisses you, mouth moving against yours agonizingly slow, tongue gliding into your mouth with familiarity. the kiss leaves you both breathless, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you again, nor does it stop you from helping him unzip and tug his pants and underwear down. his cock is smooth and heavy when you stroke it with your uninjured hand; the kisses transform into something feverish and frenetic, your skin warming significantly when you feel his hips jerk forward the faster your hand moves.

pre-cum slides down his tip, a welcomed sight in your book. you smile against his lips when his patience wears thin — he tugs on your clothes to strip you bare, and you do the same for him. you wrap our legs around him, hold him close to kiss him one more time — mind a muddled mess the moment his fingers enter you, scissoring around, pumping in and out lazily. you moan against his lips, hips rolling forward as your nails drag along his skin.

after plucking his fingers out of you, he rubs the head of his cock against your needy entrance, a shiver crawling through you at the sensation. you whine and fuss, telling him to hurry up.

he tsks quietly and shoots you a mischievous look, one that makes you nervous in a good way. there’s nothing soft or gentle about the way eren fucks you; but every time he does, it becomes much more intimate in its own way. you both knock things off of the counter, his cock sliding in and out of you, lips dragging along your throat, littering your skin with kisses and bite marks.

you clench around him desperately and he angles his hips to power into you faster and deeper. you moan his name so loud it only makes him want to fuck you harder; so he does. he’s not sure if it’s his heart or yours — or maybe both? — that beats loud enough to make him wonder if any of this is real. you’d say yes, if he ever had the courage to ask — but, as usual, his cowardice somehow wins out.

still, you can’t really complain; not when he keeps whispering in your ear, giving you the sort of praise that makes your toes curl. when you wrap your legs around him, hold him closer to you, he gives you short, brutal strokes, hips knocking into yours roughly.

it’s then that you really scream for him, and his lips find yours again as a lightheaded feeling takes over your entire body. you both cum simultaneously, a feat that surprises him; he rolls his hips lazily, cock sliding in and out of you for a little while longer until you both can’t take it. he doesn’t pull out right away and allows you to rest your forehead against his chest; a faint sheen of sweat coats your skin, but he holds onto you anyway.

when you place a soft, chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, he realizes he’s in too deep. he pulls away suddenly and is already putting up his walls again.

with great difficulty, you climb down and reach for him, but he evades your touch and grabs his clothes so he can put them back on.

DESSERT

panic settles in your chest, the sinking realization that he’s going to run away from you again makes you clean up quickly so you can follow after him. he knows you won’t let this go, so he decides to cut to the chase. eren faces you and with a stern, severe expression, he says, “i can’t do this right now.” and he really can’t — or, rather, doesn’t want to.

to him, that’s the end of the discussion, but you’re so damn persistent — something that both was admirable and obnoxious to him — and stop him again.

“no,” you say firmly, which surprises him, “yes the fuck you can. we’re doing this right damn now.” you leave very little room for argument, so he relents; maybe if he lets you talk at him for a bit, you’ll drop this.

“what is it?”

your bravado slips but you still hold strong. “eren, we can’t keep…,” you trail off, lips pursed as you try to find the best way to say this, “i mean you can’t keep stringing me along like that.” you had feelings and a fragile heart, one that you willingly give to him over and over. his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he mulls over your words. “what are you so afraid of?”

he almost blurts out the truth, but instead balls his hands into fists at his side and attempts nonchalance again.

you won’t let up, though and poke at his chest with your finger. “i never pegged you for a coward,” you say harshly, which gives him pause. “i’m not going to have a half-assed relationship with you, i deserve more than that.”

he doesn’t speak for a long moment, the silence choking you, making you want to hide under your covers for the rest of the day; but then the strangest thing happens. resigned and wholly captivated by you, eren sighs and pulls you close to him. it’s an embrace that makes you question his motives, but his lips ghost along the curve of your ear and you can feel your heart pummeling against your rib cage. you will it to keep quiet, but it never slows. despite trying your best to remain calm and patient, you wish eren would hurry up and give you his answer, and before you can pester him about it again, his arms wrap around you and he whispers, “okay.”

[irenewsky]

Anime I watched in 2023 (Part 2)

If you came here from the part 1, I thank you and I appreciate you. Now, this part of the list will include some shows I wanted highlight and some extras. Okay, that's it. Let's go!

Some of my older lists:

My favourite animes (Old. Tells of my tastes back in, like, 2018-2020 or something. Updated list coming once I get around to it)

Feel good anime Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Blue Lock

Yoichi Isagi is a member of his high school’s soccer team and during one of their important games, he makes a decision that costs their team a chance of going to the nationals. Bitter and disappointed, Isagi returns home only to find a letter from the Japan Football Union waiting for him. He has been chosen to be a candidate for a new projects called ”Blue Lock”. The competition is tough and ruthless. Who will make it through to the end?

24 episodes - sports

Everyone and their mother watched this one for sure. I might hate irl soccer due to finding it extremely boring (sorry irl soccer fans), but this one I really liked due to it making the sport actually interesting for me. I gotta also say that I found their eyes kinda unsettling when they entered their ”monster modes” (I can not say that with a straight face lol) but other than that, the animation was quite good.

Moriarty the Patriot

In the late 19th century Britain, William James Moriarty and his accomplices with nobles’ blood on their hands work together on a grand plan to bring down the system that favours aristocracy. A mathematician by day and a crime consultant by night, William James Moriarty is about to meet his match - one gentleman called Sherlock Holmes.

24 episodes and 2 OVAs - drama, thriller, mystery

Love me some more victorian era Sherlock Holmes shenanigans. I was so late to this one but it was still so worth the watch (and the read. The manga is just *chef’s kiss*)

*Mastermind by Taylor Swift playing in the distance* Honestly, imagine meeting you soulmate (platonic or otherwise) and them being on the completely other side of law from you. The drama of it all. (Yes, I’m very normal about these two)

Dr. Stone (Season 3 + Nanami Ryuusui Extra)

Over 3700 years ago, a mysterious beam of light enveloped every human into a layer of stone. To stay conscious, Ishigami Senku started to count seconds from the moment he was petrified. When he manages to break free from the stone in the spring of the year 5738, the human civilisation as he knew it had already disappeared. What will happen from now on? What will happen to rest of the petrified people? Are there others who have depetrified?

3 seasons + Nanami Ryuusui extra - action, adventure, comedy, drama, sci-fi, shonen

You will find this anime/manga on my updated favourites list, I’m warning you in advance.

I love, love, love this anime so much. It follows the manga so well and yes, I do recommend the manga for anyone interested. It’s really, really good and didn’t let me down unlike some others have. Also, it’s so refreshing to have a main character who is actively very much uninterested in sex and romance. How aro and ace of him (personal headcanon, no need to fight me for it)

BRB gonna go make myself a Gen Asagiri cosplay. My favourite scheming gremlin.

Tomo-chan Is a Girl!

Tomo is a high school girl with a crush on her long time bestfriend, a boy named Junichiro. She tries to confess to him but unfortunately she has been placed into the friendzone from where it seems almost impossible to escape from. With Tomo being very tomboyish and physically strong, it’s just hard for Junichiro to see her as a girl. Will she get out of the friendzone? Maybe she should get some help from her other friends…

13 episodes - romance, comedy

I didn’t think I would like it as much as I did. ’Childhood bestfriends to lovers’ trope with a healthy sprinkling of pining, chaos and ridiculousness. Delicious.

Romantic Killer

Anzu, a high school girl obsessed with video games, cats and chocolate and fully uninterested in romance, gets assigned a wizard that is going to do everything in their power to create the perfect love life for her. Anzu, however, is having none of it. Game on, you stupid wizard!

12 episodes - comedy, romace, supernatural

I kind of have a lot to say about this one, so buckle up. As an aroace person (who also, coincidentally, loves cats, chocolate and video games) I found the premise a bit annoying at first. I do love, well, love, but it pissed me off that romance was treated as an ”end all, be all” kind of thing and everything else as irrelevant rubbish. Trying to force someone into a relationship via magical means felt wrong. You could say I’m reading too much into this and yes, maybe I am, seeing as the premise was a ”to counteract the low birth rates” gag, but I’m also entitled to my own opinion and critiquing hetero- and amatonormativity.

Regardless, I ended up actually quite liking the anime as it progressed. The backstories for the characters were interesting and I found myself really loving Anzu’s headstrong personality. She doesn’t let the wizard push her around and stands her ground quite often. I really appreciated that. Also the humour in the show did make me laugh quite often, which is always a plus. That being said, I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to whack the wizard around the ears. Annoying little thing, that one is.

Sasaki and Miyano

Yoshikazu Miyano, the schools resident BL loving student, meets his senpai named Shuumei Sasaki after he saves Miyano’s classmate from being bullied. This chance encounter and Miyano accidentally revealing his interest towards BL bring the two together and from that day onwards Sasaki is stuck to him like glue.

13 episodes and an OVA - Romance (BL), drama

My VPN worked its ass off when I read this manga on some shady ass website lmao. I just had to know what happens after the point where the anime ends.

Very sweet. Do recommend.

The Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting

Kirishima Toru works for the Sakuragi family. One day the head of the yakuza crime family summons him and tasks him with the duty of taking care of his daughter, Yaeka. How will this ”demon of Sakuragi” handle his new responsibility of watching over her?

12 episodes - comedy

This filled the hole in my heart that Spy x Family ending left at the time. Really heartwarming and I loved the bonds the characters in this show had.

The Salaryman’s Club

Shiratori Mikoto is really good at badminton. That is until an incident in the Interhigh leaves him unable to play how he wants to. Things start to change when he gets a job at Sunlight Beverages and joins their weak and amateurish badminton team.

12 episodes - sports

I saw no one talk about this??? Anyway, I liked this one. A lot. There might a little bias on my side since I actually practiced badminton when I was younger, but I think I would have liked this regardless! The characters had nice dynamics and liked the aspect of ’salarymen by day, badminton players by night’. Have you even lived if you haven’t experienced the highs and lows of corporate world badminton?

And finally, we have a few honorable mentions without descriptions, only vibes and opinions:

Latest season of Tokyo Revengers (Chifuyu truly is the bestest of boys, the homiest of homies. I also read the manga in its entirety. That one I have… a lot of opinions about, not all of them good)

Our Dating Story: the Experienced You and the Inexperienced Me (this one was just okay for me. I actually don’t know if I ever finished it… Well, I’m gonna have to accept the fact that I’m just not someone who enjoys the ’established relationship’ trope…)

Trigun Stampede (I’m not usually scifi kind of person but this one I really enjoyed!)

Komi Can’t Communicate (Not much to say about this one. It was very nice and I particularly liked the way Tadano almost seemed like he was able to read minds hahaha)

The latest season of Demon Slayer (Honestly, a little disappointed. It felt simultaniously very slow and very fast. Also, kinda boring compared to the last arcs. Still decent tho)

Spy x Family (Ah, Spy Family, my beloved. I liked this one a lot)

Chainsaw Man (Gotta admit, I was a little traumatized by the episode 7. I have never wanted to crawl out of my own skin more while watching anime, than I did while watching that episode. The skipping and pausing I had to do with that one… Damn. Other than that one episode, I liked this one enough to finish it)

My Dress-Up Darling (mixed feelings about this one. I just wanted a nice anime about cosplay and sewing and ended up getting fanservice and sexualization of minors. I’m in my mid to late 20s, I don’t need that shit. Just feels weird and wrong. I did finish it, albeit I did skip all the fanservicey scenes)

[rockitmans]

Sully's Fic Masterlist

Current WIP(s):

Coming soon!

Complete

Spinning Out, 56k

Blaine is smitten with his college roommate literally upon arrival and decides that he's an excellent candidate for losing his virginity with. After all, what's better for Roomie Bonding than penetration between friends?

Tropes: Friends With Benefits, Roommates, College AU, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining

No Take Backs, 10k

A year after this father’s death, Kurt is still reeling from the loss. In an attempt to keep holiday traditions going, despite his father’s absence, Kurt meets a guy at a local Christmas Tree Lot who helps him through.

Tropes: Meet Cute, Christmas, Grief

Witch Wanted, 24k

Blaine is cursed to not touch anyone, Kurt is the grumpy neighborhood witch. They each have something the other other needs (the thing is love)

Tropes: Urban fantasy, coworkers, found family

Blaine Anderson vs Valentine's Day, 12k

Blaine drunk posts on his Instagram asking for a date for Valentine's Day. He gets one.

Tropes: Meet Cute, Influencer!Blaine, Social Media

Smart with Math, Stupid With Love, 26k

Kurt just wants to survive Senior Year and maybe get a date with Sam. He doesn't need the new resident "Bad Boy" (more like Boy Band) to cause any complications. But it's hard to ignore a good offer when it comes along. Calculus lessons in exchange for Lessons In Love. God he must be desperate.

Tropes: Nerd!Kurt, Badboy!Blaine, Highschool AU, Mutual Pining

Running Interference, 3.8k

Kurt and Blaine don't want to get set up on a blind date. But when their friends get involved, what they want doesn't really matter.

Tropes: Blind Date, Shenanigans, Kissing, General Tomfoolery

Kurt Hummel Sucks (But Only if You Ask Nicely), 9.2k

"Can vampires even get erections?" and other important questions.

or Kurt is a Vampire and Blaine really wants to bang him.

Tropes: Vampire!Kurt, Roommates, Porn (check tags)

Sleep Tips for the Chronically Nocturnal, 6.3k

Kurt can't sleep and Blaine takes that as a personal challenge

Tropes: Roommates, Hurt/comfort, Insomnia, Fluff

Ficlets

Ellipsis, 1k / Tumblr link

An ellipsis. That's what Kurt has tattooed across his wrist in the place that is meant to display the first words your soulmate says to you.

Kind of Magic, 1.6k / Tumblr link

Five times Kurt was there to 'kiss it better'

That Kind of Night, 2k

Based on a prompt: A kiss out of envy or jealousy. Turned to possessive sex because of course. PWP

A series of short fics inspired by kisses / the original prompt list

[wondereads]

Review of A Bright Heart by Kate Chenli

Summary

Mingshin used to be a merchant's daughter who paled in comparison to her cousin, Aylin, until she used her political mind to help Prince Ren become crown prince and eventually emperor. She's ready to finally marry him and be his empress until he betrays her, frames her for treason...and then she wakes up two years ago. Mingshin has been granted a second chance at life. For what reason she doesn't know, but she's out for revenge.

Plot 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

The plot of this book is incredibly predictable. In fact, it was almost boring. I'll preface this by saying the idea of a girl being betrayed and then getting a chance to do things over is not a new one; it's a very popular trope in East Asian books, webnovels, and comics, as any fans of the recent villainess trend know. It's specifically why I requested this book. However, even though I was expecting something that conformed to the genre, I was not expecting a story where the main character overcame every obstacle with seemingly no struggle. I love a competent main character, but Mingshin flawlessly predicted pretty much every one of her enemy's moves. She has special knowledge for almost every situation, and I never really got to see her actually struggle. While its kind of a staple for this kind of story of the FMC to basically have cheats enabled with her knowledge of the future, there wasn't even a semblance of tension. There was certainly some satisfaction in seeing the antagonists get their asses completely handed to them every time, but I wish there had been some moments where Mingshin had doubted herself or made some mistakes. Even considering the time travel, she's only 18.

The world is pretty well established for a shorter book, and I found the magic element interesting. Some of it seemed a little too convenient, but this book does a decent job of justifying why certain things are happening. The politics of Mingshin's country are complex enough for a couple of red herrings, even if I don't think they fooled anyone, but still simple enough that it doesn't get too confusing.

Characters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Like I've somewhat touched upon, Mingshin is technically likable but ultimately a very flat, uninteresting character. I think she had a lot of potential, especially as someone who loves characters like Jude Duarte, to be a very politically-focused, scheming type character. However, she's just too good at pretty much everything, and none of her "schemes" were actually that complex. Most of the time she just uses her unnaturally good insight to instantly foil any plans against her. There were hints of more depth to her; I found the moment where she almost falters facing Ren and Aylin, two people who meant a lot to her in her last life, incredibly compelling, but the story fails to follow through and grant them any more characteristics than "evil."

Speaking of the side characters, they were lacking depth as a whole. Probably the most egregious offender is Jieh, another candidate for crown prince, the one Mingshin is backing this time around, and the love interest. If you asked me to list Jieh's personality traits, I would be unable to say anything other than "in love with Mingshin." His attention is captured almost immediately and he doesn't really do anything other than help her and pine after her for the rest of the book. He's initially described as "haughty" but we barely see that other than in one scene, and he just doesn't seem to have any discernable goals of his own. The antagonists, who are Ren and Mingshin's uncle and cousins (+ maybe an evil mage?), are also very flat. They are laughably evil and don't seem to have any redeeming qualities whatsoever. They don't have to be sympathetic, but some actual personality traits would be nice. I did like the princess; her desire to be involved in politics and ruling the country despite living in a patriarchal society was interesting, and her friendship with Mingshin was sweet. Unfortunately, her relationship with Mingshin's female bodyguard (and I rarely say this) did feel like it was included for representation brownie points, as the majority of their development happened off-page and they seem to have virtually no reason to like each other.

Writing Style 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

This book reads as more the younger side of YA, which was honestly kind of a breath of fresh air. As someone who tends to read more gritty, dark stuff, a book with a lighter tone while still technically being an epic fantasy is kind of hard to find these days. It is something to keep in mind in terms of personal preference.

Unfortunately, this book suffers from a symptom that pops up a lot in YA fantasy. When writing a book that is specifically high fantasy, you have to make a choice. Are your characters going to talk in a way suitable for their setting, creating a higher level of immersion, or are they going to talk in a modern manner, making it easier for the average person to read? You cannot have it both ways because then you have characters like Mingshin who switches from poetic, setting-appropriate speech to very modern slang, and nothing takes me out of a book faster.

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

If you enjoy the premise of this book, it's likely you'll get some enjoyment out of this one. However, unless you like the genre, this book is pretty mediocre. The plot is very simple and easy to predict, and the main character is pretty bland and perfect; she knows how to solve every problem. As such there’s not really that much tension since there are few challenges she doesn’t immediately overcome. The love interest and honestly most of the side characters are pretty one-note, and the writing fluctuates between the flowery words you’d expect from the setting and jarringly modern phrases. Overall, I was really looking forward to this book, but I don’t think I’d like it at all if it wasn’t a plot I know I enjoy.

The Author

Kate Chenli: Chinese-American, enjoys travel, A Bright Heart is her debut novel

The Reviewer

Hi, my name is Wonderose! I'm a book reviewer; I post a reading update usually every week and reviews whenever I feel like it. Check out my pinned post for more about me :)

[scalproie]

subscorp for the ship meme?

teeheehee :)

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

• When I started shipping them: hey did you guys know theres a chin tilt™ in the movie Mortal Kombat Legends: Battle Of The Realms (2021) that Ive seen this january of the year 2022

• My thoughts: I hate them so much. theyre perfect foils in almost every way you can think of. they have an extremely appealing enemies-to-friends arc. in fact they tick most of the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers dynamics in one way or another, in one incarnation or another. with the multiple timelines deal you can even sprinkle a little bit of soulmates trope in there. you cannot have one without the other in the general consciousness. theyre perfect opposites and so similar at the same time. their shared storyline is Romantic with a capital R, with its fair share of drama, revelations, guilt, duty, honor, and conflicted feelings, two assassin clans alike in dignity, in fair earthrealm where we lay our scene. theyre LITERALLY fire and ice and everything about them just bring you back to that point. AND theyre both stupid pretty on top of that.

• What makes me happy about them: they were grown in a lab for 30 years to appeal to me personally💙💛 literally tick every single boxes

• What makes me sad about them: if they werent two guys they wouldve been canon ages ago and you know it

• Things done in fanfic that annoys me: mischaracterization in favor of the author's personal fantasies, usually sexual. Sucks so much when a good fic or a good concept gets ruined by them being OOC during (sometimes uneeded) sexy times. I know thats like, 90% of the fics on AO3 but still, lemme mourn.

• Things I look for in fanfic: if we're going Legends or OG timeline, you can never go wrong with a good old devoted protector scorpion. If we're going current timeline, oooh babey gimme that grandmasters middle age mutual pining, sometimes keeping things simple is where its at.

• My wishlist: so fun fact, most of my wishlist already kinda happened, thanks snowblind but literally everything before it. So I guess I would really just like to see the two of them interact in a casual setting for once, see how theyd normally interact. Second would be cuddles and kisses ofc.

• Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Im a subsmoke enjoyer but ONLY in a tragic doomed teenage romance kinda way, two boy best friends in an extremely restrictive environment that forbid close bonds let alone intimate, come on. Other than that... kuai has stupid chemistry with a lot of characters but in the actual story i dont see a lot of potential candidates. As for hanzo, I like him with harumi ngl, if he manages to get his family back good for him, but just like kuai, the ninjas are pretty isolated otherwise and have the closest narrative bond with each other so if not with the other well I dont think Id see it :/

• My happily ever after for them: Legends/OG timelime wise, scorpy continues to play guardian angel with benefits while kuai gives him a purpose, current timeline is the two grandmasters accidentaly making their clans more and more alike due to them sharing a similar mindset, which could perhaps eventually end with them reuniting the clans as it once was, as joint grandmasters wink wink. but my personal favorite is the mk9 sub zero ending where both of them "disappear together into legends" and are just living together in a little house in the middle of nowhere when theyre not avenging the innocents. and disappear even more into legends when they both get to the netherrealm killing the shit out of everything in sight there.

[brainyxbat]

My Fave Venus Wisteria Ship Candidates (Song Lists)

Changes are subject to be made.

6. Giovanni (Sakaki)

Term: ?

A complete, total crack shipping, that I can’t get enough of.

Songs:

Government Hooker, by Lady Gaga

Positions, by Ariana Grande

5. Petrel (Lambda)

Term: KiLashipping

The newest candidate for my girl. I think they would have the biggest age difference; 5 years at most? Maybe.

As for their dynamic, they would be like Shenny (The Big Bang Theory) more than anyone else; they drive each other crazy, but still care.

Songs for KiLa Feels:

My Life Would Suck Without You, by Kelly Clarkson

True Love, by P!nk

Hot n’ Cold, by Katy Perry

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love), from Disney’s Hercules

Don’t Stop Believing, by Journey, S1 Glee

Children: Penelope “Penny”

4. James (Kojiro)

Term: Lavendershipping

Venus’ first potential LI! I think James would give Venus a lot of kindness, and compassion; something she never got from her “family”. Not to mention his grandparents nannies would love her, like hers hadn’t.

Songs for Lavender Feels:

Open Arms, by Journey

She Will Be Loved, by Maroon 5

Sparks Fly, by Taylor Swift

Rewrite the Stars, from “The Greatest Showman”

Children: None so far

3. Jubei

Term: PurpleTeamShipping

Venus’ longest-lasting training partner (other than Zubat), before she struck out for a brief solo stint. During training, after he falls in love with her, he has to watch as she pines over Butch, but wants only for her to be happy.

Not to mention they would be a good shipmate (⬅ TV Trope there) for Rocket and Neo. Nobody has to be alone. 🥰

Songs for PurpleTeam Feels:

If Only, from Descendants

Why Don’t You Love Me, by Hot Chelle Rae ft. Demi Lovato

Perfect, by Travis Garland

Darlin’, by The Beach Boys

I Wish, by One Direction

You Belong with Me, by Taylor Swift

Children: None so far

2. Shelly (Izumi)

Term: ?

The first woman I’ve paired Venus with, is now my second favorite coupling for her.

Songs:

I Kissed a Girl, by Katy Perry

Kiss, covered by The Gold Standard ft. K.Emeline

Children: None so far

1. Butch (Kosaburo)

Term: Hisuishipping

The second candidate to chronologically come, and the best one. He may not be the nicest guy in the world, but Venus would bring out his caring side; and he would let hers shine as well. He would not hesitate to throw hands at anyone who dares hurt her.

Songs for Hisui Feels:

Faithfully, by Journey

Me, by Taylor Swift ft. Brendon Urie

Airplanes, by Hayley Williams (no rapping)

Soldier, by Gavin DeGraw

Bad Romance, by Lady Gaga

Everytime We Touch, by Cascada

Halo, by Beyonce

I was Made for Lovin’ You, by KISS

I’m Yours, by Alessia Cara

Children: Twins- Mitchell “Mitch” and Jadelyn “Jadey”

Song for for pretty much all Venus pairings:

You’re so Dark, by Arctic Monkeys

Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now, by Daniel Padilla ft Morissette

Love Again, by Dua Lipa

All You Need to Know, by Gryffin & Slander

Together Forever, by Rick Astley

You and I, by Ingrid Michaelson

You Don’t Know Me, from Victorious

Accidentally in Love, by Counting Crows

[tvrningout-a]

SO THIS IS LOVE PT. 1 | mutuals discover desired romantic dynamics!

below the cut will be the first part of a series where i talk about potential ship dynamics for my muses! this is intended to make shipping easier on my mutuals as well as give me a reason to ramble about my dorks :' ) if you have any questions or find a dynamic you're interested in, pls feel free to message me, or click the above link to like my shipping call!

HISAKAWA CHIYOKO

bc chiyo is so!! adamant about keeping her distance and so good at doing so without others noticing, she can be hard to befriend, much less date. but getting past those big ol' walls is extremely rewarding if your type of gf is one that shows her love in the form of memes and puns and bad drawings of you :' ) in most cases, i would say friendship is the main route one would take to win chiyo's heart; as someone afraid to be vulnerable, she needs to feel safe with someone to even contemplate pursuing a romantic relationship. friends-to-lovers is the main trope you'll wanna go for with her.

that being said, i do love the idea of someone seeing right through her likable facade bc no one ever does that, and it puts her on edge -- possibly to the point of making her become defensive. chiyo is incredibly private with certain parts of herself, so ofc she'll resent anyone's attempts at understanding her without her permission. she wants to be in control of who is close to her bc that lessens her chances of getting hurt. so i would love to see someone get under chiyo's skin, maybe bc they're only curious at first before it develops into something more. either way, get ready for a long haul with this gal!

SATO KAIYA

my sweet angel kaiya, my cinnamon apple, my gosh i could ship her with anyone and get the warm and fuzzies :' )) she's someone who has a lot of love to give, and she gives it freely; i think i can say she develops crushes rather easily and tends to admire those with strong values/convictions, but really!! it just comes down to the situation. i think kaiya is someone well-suited for cultivating self-love in others despite being horrible at showing herself that same care.

i can see kaiya working really well in a " grumpy gills falling for the ray of sunshine dynamic " bc she is so very soft and bright, but she'd also work well in any sort of pining situation. as a demon, she feels it isn't exactly fair for her to pursue romance bc 1. she'll outlive any human she might fall for, and 2. she doesn't feel she deserves that sort of happiness after what she's done.

YUBARI

oh, yubari :' ) the fun ( or sad asdf ) thing with yubari is that every so often, he gets himself killed while protecting his domain and people, so he is reborn time and again. he never has a recollection of his previous lives, so that makes him a great candidate for reincarnated lovers who keep finding each other, or any form of immortal lovers coming together. you could also easily throw him into a protector/bodyguard type ship bc if your muse asks for his help, he'll have a very hard time saying no.

otherwise, something to keep in mind about yubari is that he feels very deeply and is a people pleaser no matter how he tries to hide it. he likes to be useful, and he likes to take care of others -- it makes him feel good. if that's what your muse needs, let's go B) if your muse needs that but is stubborn and won't accept it at first, let's go B))))) and if your muse can return the favor and make yubari understand that someone should take care of him, too, i will actually weep

[ethunreal]

๋ 𓂋 top gun maverick . ˚◞

꒰ ⌕ ꒱ listed are my fav fics! ✧ ੭ pls support these writers !

jes wants you to know ! mostly bob and rooster because #whitemenstrikeagain

๋ 𓂋 robert ‘bob’ floyd . ˚◞

POV: YOU'RE DATING HANGMANS SISTER.

BOB CLUB.

author: @starlightsiren — genre: fluff — synopsis: Breezy647 changed the group chat name to ‘The Bob Club’ The four of you laugh as you check the notification. Something about this name was almost too perfect. — warning(s): swearing & mentions of drinking.

THINGS ONE, TWO, THREE, AND FOUR.

author: @callsignbob — genre: fluff, suggestive (light smut), classic “one-sided” pining trope — synopsis: every day, you did four small Things guaranteed to more quickly bring about the demise of Lt. Robert Floyd. The torture was insufferable, the agony extreme. He was so whipped that he sometimes worried he was following you around by floating like a cartoon character walking past a particularly delicious pie. And you had no earthly idea. — warning(s): very suggestive content (no minor interaction!), brief emo bob, phoenix is a boss-ass bitch and i love her, etc.

SUNSCREEN.

author: @siempre-bucky — genre: fluff, dad!bob, wife reader — synopsis: bob burns. your daughter gets very paranoid when he forgets sunscreen one morning and insists on bringing it to him. — warning(s): none!

MY LOVE FOREVER.

author: @robertcallsignbobfloyd — genre: series (unfinished) fluff, dad!bob, wife reader — synopsis: this collection follows the love story of Robert "Bob" Floyd and his future wife, and their struggle of long distance and unexpected battles. —warning(s): listed in individual parts!

I ALWAYS WONDERED IF GLASSES WOULD LOOK GOOD ON ME.

author: @glodessa — genre: fluff & angst (full send) — synopsis: You’d sworn yourself to stay away from men in uniforms. Yet you didn’t.. — warning(s): major character death! bob literally being an angel, probably some incorrect medical stuff but i did as much research as i could, with that goes: mentions of hospitals and all kinds of injuries

ONLY EXECPTION.

author: @kinzis-writing — genre: series (unfinished) fluff, slight angst — synopsis: Y/N Mitchell swore to herself that she would never allow herself to date or get involved with anyone from any branch of the military. After worrying about her father, the past few years, she knew that she never wanted to experience worry for a significant other. After her father gets ordered back to California, she may just meet the one that ruins all of her plans.  — warning(s): swearing, slight angst, mentions of sexual material, brief mentions of abortion, top gun related themes, top gun: maverick spoilers, timelines won’t add up for this mini-series.

THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER.

author: @callsignhoney — genre: fluff, allusions to smut — synopsis: an unlikely candidate has you breaking your dad ( and brother's) "no pilots" policy — warning(s): none!

MY BOYS.

author: @writergirl35 — genre: fluff, husband!bob, father!bob— synopsis: You and Bob have welcomed a son into the world. Your son just turned 8 months and Bob can’t decide who he loved more, his son, or the woman who brought him into the world. — warning(s): none!

OF GYM BUDDIES AND OVERLAPPING SCHEDULES.

author: @priceof-freedom — genre: fluff, allusions to smut — synopsis: You considered your alone time in the gym sacred, and made sure that you don’t run into any of the cocky aviators. When your schedule inadvertently overlapped with theirs one day and you encountered a sweet bespectacled WSO, you found yourself unconsciously changing your gym schedule to match his. (... but was it really unconscious though?) — warning(s): none!

IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU.

author: @midnightdevotion— genre: fluff, bob has a massive crush on you hehe. — synopsis: Bob trying to hold your hand and failing miserably.— warning(s): none!

BABY ON BOARD.

author: @topguncortez — genre: angst— synopsis: being placed on a top secret mission weeks before his wife's due date was not what Lt. Floyd had imagined married life would be like. — warning(s): top gun shit, child birth, near death experiences, cursing.

DANCING WITH YOU.

author: @applebutter-and-cinnamon — genre: fluff.— synopsis: A dance with Bob leaves you infatuated and slightly surprised that a man like him actually exists. — warning(s): none!

HOT SHOT.

author: @thespeeder — genre: fluff — synopsis: bob asks you out to your senior prom in high school, and ever since then, you two have been together, even in the Navy, but it shocks people because you’re so damn hot.— warning(s): none!

ABOUT TIME.

author: @lorecraft — genre: fluff, smut — synopsis: bob gives you a compliment, you nearly give him an aneurysm. — warning(s): 18+ only. flirting. blushing. cue stick chalk throwing. lead up to smut.

A FRIENDLY PUSH.

author: @skyvatnavie — genre: fluff, smut— synopsis: tba— warning(s): some god ol' pining (so much pining!), kissing, SMUT! Handjob, fingering, protected sex (be smart and wrap it folks!) and fluff... lots and lots of fluff.

๋ 𓂋 bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw . ˚◞

SLEEP CLOTHES.

author: @fandomlit — genre: fluff, rooster flirting — synopsis: a power outage allows rooster (and unfortunately, the other men on the base) to see you in your sleep clothes— warning(s): swearing, suggestion towards adult themes, rooster has a staring problem (me too tbh)

ONE OF THE GIRLS.

author: @theroosterperch— genre: fluff, — synopsis: penny asks you to watch amelia for the night and rooster tags along. — warning(s): n

DEVIL DOESN'T BARGIN.

author: @hufflepuffprincesse — genre: fluff, angst, happy ending — synopsis: as your best friend, Rooster wants what’s best for you. and he’s certain that guy isn’t it. it would have absolutely nothing to do with his romantic feelings that definitely aren’t there, thank you very much Phoenix. but he also doesn’t want lose you. however, he can’t sit back and watch what’s happening. if you won’t leave the relationship, he’s not sure there’s much of a friendship left to be had with you. — warning(s): toxic and abusive relationships, my personal experience, swearing, Maverick has all the wisdom, references to physical abuse, explicit discussion of verbal and emotional abuse

MEET THE PARENTS.

author: @miles-rooster — genre: fluff — synopsis: Goose and Carole meet the only girl Bradley's ever introduced them to — warning(s): mentions of death.

RUNNING.

author: @icahwriter — genre: mentioned in individual parts — synopsis: you ran across the country to the place you knew you’d be the safest- with Maverick on a Navy base somewhere in California. Your plan was to lay low until the coast was clear - but then you met Bradley Bradshaw. — TW! anxiety, past abuse, stalking, mentions of sex but no actual smut

STAY.

author: @mads-weasley — genre: fluff — synopsis: after a long day of work rooster somehow convinces you to take a nap with you, who he missed dearly— warning(s): none!

BROKEN AC UNITS.

author: @magnolia-among-the-stars — genre: fluff. — synopsis: The AC is broken and cute, sweaty moments ensue with your soon to be husband as you reminisce. This is really just cute banter in the heat of the summer. — warning(s): none!

DOCTOR.

author: @peterparkerisababe — genre: fluff — synopsis: rooster has a crush on the base's doctor — warning(s): none!

COMING HOME TO YOU.

author: @mads-weasley — genre: fluff — synopsis: bradley comes home from a long mission and runs straight into his wife's loving arms. — warning(s): none!

GOVERNMENT ISSUED.

author: @bradshawsbaby — genre: fluff — synopsis: tbd. — warning(s): Mentions of sexy times (nothing explicit), Cyclone Simpson being a hardass, one F-bomb, and lots of fluffy goodness.

๋ 𓂋 jake 'hangman' seresin. ˚◞

OPPOSITES ATTRACT.

author: @topguncortez — genre: fluff — synopsis: how can Hangman, cocky, arrogant Hangman fall in love with a girl who is so different than him and raise a family completely opposite of him. — warning(s): mentions of sex, mentions of child birth, top gun things

WHATS GOT YOU SO HAPPY.

author: @shaunlovesyou — synopsis: a fun light hearted prank gone so right. genre: fluff — warning(s): none!

OUTRANKED.

author: @callsignhoney— genre: fluff — synopsis: hangman lays the flirting on heavily before he realizes who you are, and what you are to him — warning(s): none!

MY SUNSHINE.

author: @libraryofloveletters — genre: fluff— synopsis: tbd.— warning(s): break ups, soft!Jake, alcohol and the consumption of, a few tears, drunk!birthdayboy!Bob and reader are besties, mentions of throwing up. 

WHIPPED.

author: @augustinescruelsummer — genre: fluff — synopsis: In which Jake takes you to meet the team at The Hard Deck, in an effort to prove to them that he’d actually found a girl who puts up with his shit.

JUST HOOKING UP.

author: @babyonboard — genre: fluff, smut, slow burn — synopsis: as a nurse for navy pilots at top gun, hooking up with one of your patients seems unprofessional. but for jake seresin, you’ll make an exception. — warning(s): mentions of, and a small amount of smut (minors dni), a little angst, slow(ish) burn, mentions of blood, intense medical scenarios.

IMAGINE HANGMAN BEING CAUGHT LEAVING YOUR ROOM.

๋ 𓂋 mickey 'fanboy' garcia. ˚◞

SINCE WHEN?

author: @callsign-squints — fluff, wife!reader synopsis: mickey introduces his wife to his friends after a successful mission warning(s): none!

TAKE ME BY THE HEART, TAKE ME BY THE HAND.

author: @rae-gar-targaryen — fluff, suggestive, established-relationship!au synopsis: a drive-in movie, a little joke, and some sweetness with your Fanboy. warning(s): none, other than some cheesiness, my writing, and the barest suggestion of smut. 16+.

[sparklingsin]

(push your heart, and pull away);

tom holland x female!reader

summary for series: you've got yourself in a predicament that involves fake dating the star employee of your company (who you might have feelings for), all to convince your family that you're finally happy, after what happened with your last shot at love. can you, the CEO of a booming business, your family's darling daughter pull off the biggest lie you've ever told? [inspired by and based loosely on The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas.]

tags and warnings (full fic): female reader, lots of romance tropes, fake dating, pining, tooth-rotting fluff, some angst, smut (future chapters) minors dni.

a/n: hi there! i am making a comeback as a writer so sorry if this is rough at first. the next few chapters are already written, so expect quick updates :P hope you enjoy the story!

CHAPTER I

"I'll do it."

You jolted at the sound, instantly hanging up the call with your best friend that you were on. She'd understand.

"I'll be your boyfriend," the gentle yet firm voice called from behind you.

You heard his words loud and clear alright but that didn't make them any more believable. You let the arm holding your phone slide down, praying that you had misheard him. You turned slowly, lips drawn into a line as you faced the source of the declaration.

Tom Holland. Senior Advisor at Meraki, your small gifting business that had taken off during the last year and was now the reason you were on the Forbes' 30 under 30 list. Smart, charming and hard-working— he was a star employee at your company. Everybody at your office adored him as well as his niceness and you had to admit, you didn't mind his company sometimes.

"How long have you been standing there?" you asked, putting on an air of nonchalance, trying your best not to lose your cool at this blatant invasion of privacy.

"Long enough to hear that you desperately needed a fake boyfriend. Aka me," Tom said dryly.

That was bold, even for Tom's standards.

"Need I remind you that doors are for knocking, Holland?"

Tom sighed and held his hands up in admission. "Okay, I overstepped. I assumed you were on a work related call and walked in. But… this seems like fate."

You rolled your eyes at him, even though it made sense. Tom was... not like the others. He was incredibly talented and fun to work with, was at one of the highest positions in the company and you considered him to be a decent acquaintance if nothing more.

He'd be someone who'd be able to navigate your... lifestyle easily if he put his mind to it. He had been at your company for almost a year now and was trustable. In the short deadline that you had to find a suitable bachelor, you didn't think you could find a better candidate.

But one undeniable fact remained. He was your employee and you were his boss. HR would have a field day, if they ever found out that you two were dating.

Well at least, pretending that you were dating. Because that was the problem at hand, the problem that had been slowly driving you insane for the past week, the problem you had created for yourself.

Your brother was getting married in a week's time and you had promised to anyone and anything that mattered, that you would show up with a boyfriend. Not a date, a boyfriend.

"Sweetie, would you be coming alone or..?" Your mother had asked, casually. This time, there was no avoiding the question. And while that had been a perfectly normal query, the tone with which it had been asked set your ego aflame.

"You've been through… a difficult time... but are you finally seeing someone?"

That had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Yes, mom. I am seeing someone. It's been a private affair. ..Yes. He will be coming to the wedding," you had snapped in an overtly cheery tone.

Why did you have to lie?

So easily you had told your family that you hid this from them because you had finally found something that felt too good to be true. You did your best to field any other questions (What was his name? What was he like? You wished you knew the answers to those questions too.). They lapped it all up easily, because they knew being a CEO, a woman in power at that, was hard enough without having to share your personal life with everyone too.

It was an absurd lie to tell too. Something that made no sense to lie about and yet, you had done it. If you backed out now, you'd have to concoct a story that would bring in even more questions and pity that you didn't have the energy to face. It was that or actually falling in love with someone in two weeks— one week now.

Herculean tasks were simpler. But you had bought this on yourself, in a moment of sordid weakness and you were going to deal with the consequences.

Which brings us here. To you, considering the possibility of having one of your star employees be your pretend boyfriend for five whole days.

You sighed, sagging against one of the chairs. This was getting too exhausting too quickly. You eyed Tom, as he patiently waited for your reply. His hair was perfect as usual, darkish brown and styled to frame his face well. He wore his usual office attire— a turtleneck and brown pants, his TAG Huer glinting in the amber light of the conference room. He always dressed impeccably.

"That is quite a generous offer. But what do you expect to gain out of this? You know very well that I will not be handing out any benefits with regards to the company. This is a personal matter."

Tom stared at you for a moment, expression unreadable.

"L/N, has it occurred to you that people offer to do things for friends without expecting things in return?" he said slowly.

Oh. This was news to you. You were not aware that Tom Holland thought of you as a friend, as someone he cared enough for to offer help.

The thought unearthed something deep within you, a bright flame that seemed to ignite increasingly coincidental to the times when Holland was around you, but you quickly pushed it away.

"I do not want any perks or grants. I am simply doing this because I want to."

You almost couldn't hide the surprise from your face.

Almost.

"And as a favour I can call in anytime I want," he added, a tiny hint of a smile playing at his lips.

There it was. Of course he wanted something in return, he just didn't know what yet. As quickly as the flame had burned into existence, it vanished.

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You're going to hold this over my head for the rest of our lives then?"

Tom smiled humorlessly. "Maybe."

Tom was trustable if anything. You didn't expect him to ever ask anything of you that would jeopardize everything you stood for. At least you hoped he wouldn't.

Still, you narrowed your eyes.

"Look, L/N. I really am your best option right now. I won't let you down. You have my word," he said fiercely, looking directly at you.

And something in those eyes, something you couldn't place, made you believe that he meant it. You didn't see him much outside of work, didn't know him anymore than most people at your company. But in your heart, even as you contemplated all the ways this could backfire, you knew that you could trust this man.

"What do you say, L/N? Do we have a deal?"

You considered him for a final moment.

You had one week left to find someone crazy enough to be willing to play the part of a pretend boyfriend. Someone who'd understand the situation and not put your reputation at stake. Someone you had at least some control over, in case things got out of hand. You were desperate, that much was true.

There didn't seem anyone more fitting than the man standing before you, with his warm eyes and beige turtleneck.

"Fine. We have a deal. But I will be making a formal contract for this and we can go over it tomorrow." You ran your hand through your hair. You really were doing this. "Lot's to brief you on."

Tom cocked his head to his side and tsk-tsked at you.

You looked at him questioningly.

"Really, darling? You want to voluntarily put something like this on paper? Too many movies about that being a bad call already."

The sudden shift in his boldness shook you more than you'd ever care to admit. The tiny flame had sprung to life again.

He didn't wait for your reply before he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the conference room, cursing at yourself for getting into this mess. The gravity of what you had agreed to, had only begun to settle in.

Because you see, there was one more variable that you had decided to not think about in this equation. One variable you denied existed. One variable that you should never have ignored.

It was the fact that you had taken quite a liking to a particular someone.

A particular someone who had just offered to be your pretend boyfriend.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

feedback is appreciated! if you'd like to be tagged in the future chapters, please leave a comment or send an ask!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Could you pls do Fez x reader where the reader draws him whenever she’s bored and one day she leaves the sketchbook on the table. He sees it and looks through it, after flipping through the pages he just melts. Love your work!

Of course I can! This is just a cute idea.

Word Count: 712, short and sweet

Warnings: Swearing, not much of anything else tbh it's all fluff😂

For as violent of a man that he is, he was the opposite with her.

It's kind of a trope with girls who read, girls who are obsessed with movies and unobtainable men; artistic women mostly. These types of women fantasize about the men that they could never get, the men who are rough and tough, who wouldn't bat their eyes in her way.

It was normal to want what you couldn't have and everyone goes through it at some point in their life. But the love that Fez had for Y/n, and the love that she shared for him, was beyond either of their fantasy's or dreams. Neither of them were aware of the other's feelings, both of them staying in secret, hiding from the other.

She prayed that one day it would come out in a dramatic fight, Fez coming clean that he had been in love with her for years and years. She would gladly take him in without a thought.

On the other hand, Fez just wished to gain the guts to be able to tell her flat out. He wished that he had a way with words, a way that she would melt from. He didn't know what to do. He wouldn't be able to handle any sort of rejection, so living with it was good enough.

Y/n would spend hours watching him from afar, sometimes just from the other side of the couch, her pencil in hand. He would notice her staring, but he never minded. He didn't know what she was doing or what she was drawing in that sketchbook of hers, just that she kept it completely hidden from him at all costs. But the question of the matter wasn't 'what' she was drawing, it was 'who'.

The answer was always Fez.

She had tons of candid drawings of him. Him smoking, eating, smiling, focusing. Any time that he was in a time that he didn't move for a good amount of time, she drew him. The pictures were never too complicated, just enough that she could look back at them and smile widely, her fingers aching from gripping her pencil so tightly.

She never planned on him ever seeing her drawings, worried that if he did, everything would come out. Her feelings, her pining for him for so long. She was worried that her relationship would be ruined with him, him totally disgusted at the thought of her being in love with him. Or creeped out by the pages and pages of him.

He wasn't. He wasn't disgusted and wasn't creeped out.

So now, he's shocked when he finds the open sketchbook on the table, listening to the sound of her feet padding down the hallway as she returns from the bathroom. Her eyes flutter between the pages and his surprised face, her jaw dropped as she stutters.

"Please don't be mad." She cringes, taking a step towards Fez as he chuckles softly at her. He scoffs at her words, shaking his head as he waves her worries away.

"Why would I be mad?" He asks, looking away from the paper to step up to her softly. With each step he takes, the butterflies in her stomach get move violent, his eyes not leaving hers. Her heart beats wildly at his words, a huge smile spreading across her lips. He feels stupid, after all this time that he didn't see her glances and think 'I wonder if she's drawing me?' "Shit, I'm sad you didn't show me sooner." He chuckles, gently reaching up to cup her cheeks as her cheeks heat up.

"I didn't want you to think it was weird." She whispers, her voice quiet as he shakes his head with a slight grin. "You think they're good?" She asks, his head bobbing up and down in a nod as he seemingly gets closer to her. Their noses brush together, her cheeks warm as Fez lets out a sigh of relief. She doesn't argue as his lips press against hers softly, a surprised gasp leaving her lips. Her fingers gently fisting the front of his shirt as their lips separate. A few beats go by, Fez's cheeks hurting in a smile as her eyes finally open to look up at him. "Oh so you really thought they were good?"

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

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[scuttling]

Lean on Me

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 4,717 Tags: SFW, Fluff, 5+1 Trope, Obliviousness, Mutual pining, Aaron Hotchner deserves good things, Canon typical injury Summary: Five times you want to kiss the frown off of your boss's face, and one time you actually do it. *Requested by Anon. Link to AO3 or read below! “It doesn’t make sense.”

You stick a tack in a photo of a murdered woman—unfortunately one of many you’ve stuck to this board—and turn to face Hotch, who is looking over your handiwork with a quizzical expression.

“What doesn’t?” He takes a few steps closer, crosses his arms in front of him.

“Why would the unsub leave his comfort zone? The first six abductions occurred within five miles of the college, so why did the seventh and eighth happen almost twelve miles away?” He reaches for the board, traces his finger along the circle Reid had colored in on the map. “We profiled that he’s disorganized and far from confident, so why would he do that?”

He looks over at you, frowns, and not for the first time your gaze is drawn to the little crease between his eyebrows that always forms when he is puzzled, worried, confused, stressed, or otherwise unhappy. In short, it’s there kind of all of the time.

For the first time, though, you think of how easy it would be to lean over, press your lips there, smooth it out, and maybe even get him to smile for a change. He has a great smile, when he lets people see it.

You shake the daydream, rewind back to the question he asked, and wrinkle your nose in thought.

“Maybe his circumstances changed? It's summer now, and there are still classes, but students aren’t living in the dorms. Maybe he moved back home or got an apartment off campus that’s within that area—or a job.” He sighs, runs a hand over the back of his head, nods.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s good. I’ll mention it to the others.” He pulls out his phone, and you grab another photo, another thumbtack, but something stops you and you lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to think of everything, you know. That’s why you have us.” He exhales, his shoulders losing a little of their tension, and that forehead wrinkle gets a little less deep.

“Sometimes I forget that not everything needs to be done the hard way. Or by me.”

“What? You, Aaron Hotchner, doing things the hard way?” you tease, and you are gifted a glimpse of his rare, unfiltered smile.

“Okay, enough pointing out my flaws,” he says with a raised eyebrow, though he’s still smiling, and as he looks down to type out a text, you remember to pull back your hand.

“I would never.” He looks up from his phone at that—maybe at the conviction in your voice, which you hadn’t exactly intended—and his expression softens further.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You hold eye contact for a moment, and then turn to finish preparing the board, pinning up another photo of another woman and reminding yourself that they need you to focus on the task at hand. Two weeks later, you knock on Hotch’s office door, a stack of completed consults in your hand. He looks up, that familiar notch in between his brows, a scowl on his face; when he sees that it’s you, he tones it down a little.

“Draw the short straw?” he asks, and you figure that’s because everyone knows he is in a bad mood and they’ve been avoiding this office all day. You shrug.

“It was rock, paper, scissors, but yes.” He huffs a short laugh, and you smile, step toward his desk. “Anything I can do to lighten the load?”

“Technically you’re adding to it,” he says with a glance at the files in your hand, and you set them on one of the chairs with a purposefully loud thump and then take the other seat.

“Technically. But technically, you only need to review my consults; I can review theirs. Right?” He mulls it over a moment, like the thought never crossed his mind—of course Aaron I have to do everything myself Hotchner would never suggest such a thing, even as the team sits in the bullpen with nothing to do, seeing who can throw M&Ms into Spencer’s mouth from the furthest distance.

“Technically,” he agrees, and you pluck a pen out of his pen cup and take the first file off the pile, open it in front of yourself, careful not to cut into the workspace he’s occupying. You both smile softly down at your work, and you actively do not think about that wrinkle between his eyebrows.

About an hour later, he reaches for his mug out of habit but finds it empty; you stand, take it in your hand, and he makes a noise of protest.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, and you walk toward the door. “I need some too. I’ll be right back.”

You pass through the bullpen—apparently the M&M contest led to a sugar crash, because Spencer is laying with his head on his desk—and grab your cup off your desk, take both to the break room to fill them.

Derek appears next to you as you’re stirring your sugar in.

“Coffee date with the boss?” he asks with a curious expression, and you shake your head.

“Of course not. I’m helping him with the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his desk so his mood improves, instead of just ignoring him.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and Derek scratches the back of his head.

“Never thought of that,” he admits, and you pat him on the arm and take your coffees back upstairs.

Hotch looks up at you as you set his mug down, says a soft thank you, and you grab the pile of files you brought up, separate them, and head back downstairs.

“You review mine,” you say to Derek, handing him a stack, “Emily take Spencer’s, Spencer take Derek’s, I’ll take Emily’s.” They look at you like they have no idea what to say, and you just smile, tap the top of Spencer’s head with a folder. “I’ll come back down and grab them in a little bit.”

“Yes, boss,” Emily says, and you grin on your way back upstairs. Hotch is standing when you arrive this time, looking out the window over the bullpen.

“What did you do?” he asks, turning to you, frowning again. You’re so close that kissing that wrinkle would be effortless. All you’d have to do is lean in.

You smile.

“I delegated, Hotch. You should try it some time.” You put your hands on his arms and guide him back to his desk. “Now what can I help you with?”

By the end of the day, his desk is clean and his bad mood is long gone. He closes the last of his files, sighs deeply, covers your hand with one of his, and says thank you.

The next morning when you come in, there is a steaming latte and a cookie on your desk, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the day. Your next case is draining, children abducted and left for dead, and everyone is on edge, but no one more than Hotch. You’re fairly certain his face hasn’t relaxed since the initial briefing, and he’d be a prime candidate for the old ‘your face will get stuck like that’ joke, if anyone was up to joking.

The team catches the unsub, saves one child, but not until after three are dead; you take a late flight home because no one wants to stay another night in a town it feels like you’ve failed, and everyone curls up to get some rest except you and Hotch.

You try to read the book you brought along—a science fiction dystopian novel, something to get you out of your head and away from real life problems—but you’re a little distracted by Hotch’s sighing. It’s become an every-five-minutes thing, and while you’re definitely on board with sighing as a way to decompress, he’s not decompressing. He looks like he’s in pain mentally, exhausted physically; you’re not sure how everyone else was able to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you figure everyone else may not be as in tune with him as you are. As observant.

As in love.

Not that that matters: you know your issues, and some of his issues, and there’s the whole superior/subordinate thing which doesn’t really do anything for you except give you a stomach ache. It would never work out, even if he somehow, miraculously, were to love you back—and that’s a pretty big if in and of itself.

But still, you notice him, can’t help it, and the sighing is getting to be a little much. You sigh yourself, put your finger in between the pages of your book, and walk over to take the seat next to him; he looks over at you, frowning just like always, and you carefully close his file and set it aside.

Neither of you say anything to the other, just look each other over for a moment, and then you lean lightly against his shoulder and flip back to the beginning of your book.

“I still dream of the island. I sometimes approach it across water, but more often through air, like a bird, with a great wind under my wings. The shores rise rain-coloured on the horizon of sleep, and in their quiet circle the buildings: the houses grown along the canals, the workshops of inkmasters, the low-ceilinged taverns.”

You keep your voice low and soothing, and you are just turning to page fifteen when you feel the weight of his head drop onto your shoulder.

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

You read until you make it home, and you wake him up with a gentle nudge before the rest of the team drifts back to consciousness. He looks at you, blinks slowly like he’s trying to remember where he is, and then gets a little sheepish when he puts two and two together, realizes he fell asleep on your shoulder.

You just shake your head, give his arm a squeeze, and head back to your seat to gather your things. You, Hotch, and Emily are catching the elevator to the parking garage—after staying two hours later to work on some rush consults straight from Strauss—when he looks at something on his phone that makes him groan aloud. You and Emily share a look, and you ask what’s wrong.

“I just remembered I’m supposed to have a treat for Jack to take to school tomorrow and it’s, what, seven thirty?”

“So just stop at the supermarket on your way home; no one can tell the difference anyway,” Emily says, but you and Hotch both shoot her a skeptical glance.

“It’s all about the treats at a school like Jack’s,” you supply, and Hotch looks over at you like he’s surprised by your comment. “If they’re not homemade, the parents talk. Plus there’s probably an allergen list a mile long: no nuts, no eggs, no soy, no dairy. You have to pick him up from Haley’s tonight, right?” You’re pretty sure, but when he nods he confirms it. “So pick him up, go home and get some dinner, put him to bed, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over with the goods. I have a great recipe for vegan apple cinnamon muffins that will go over really well.”

“You really don’t have to do that; I’ll figure something out,” he says, but you just shake your head and pull up the recipe on your phone.

“Forget it, it’s already done. I have everything I need at home already; let me help,” you murmur softly, and when he looks at you with the furrowed brow that comes with accepting kindness from someone else, you almost forget it’s not just the two of you in the elevator. It’s only when Emily clears her throat that the eye contact breaks. He nods.

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The elevator dings and it stops at the parking garage; the three of you get off and head in separate directions for your cars. “I’ll text you.”

“Goodnight,” Emily says with a grin, and you wave at her, hop into your car, and head for home.

About two hours later, you show up at Hotch’s door with two dozen apple cinnamon muffins, and unbleached, whole wheat flour in your hair, and he has coffee brewing, a smile on his face.

“You don’t know how grateful I am,” he says as he ushers you into the kitchen, takes the boxes of muffins from your hands, and pours you a cup of dark, delicious coffee. You sip it slowly, savoring the taste—you should have known he’d have incredible coffee—even though it’s far too late for you to be indulging. Unless you’re working a case, you usually switch to decaf by three.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture.” You lean forward, open a box, and pull out two muffins, handing one to him. “I made a couple extra so we could taste test; if I accidentally put salt in instead of sugar, you’re on your own,” you joke, and you wait for him to taste it before taking your own bite.

“That’s delicious. There’s really nothing unapproved in here?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Nope, it’s all healthy and allergen free, except for the flour, but that wasn’t on the list you sent.” He reaches a hand toward you, and you don’t realize, at first, that he’s brushing the flour out of your hair.

“Messy baker,” he teases, and your heart feels really full, being in his kitchen like this, warm muffins and fresh coffee, even if your hair is a mess. You smile, and he smiles back before dropping into that serious expression, eyebrow wrinkle and all. You think about brushing your lips there tonight, but this feels like two steps forward, and you don’t want to risk taking that step back. “Next time I’ll help you.”

“Oh, next time? You plan on needing my baking expertise again? Fair warning, this is the only recipe I know, so I hope you like apple cinnamon muffins.” You take a sip of your coffee, look up at him, and he takes another bite, nods his head.

“I do. Especially these.”

In a perfect world, what comes next would be a cinnamony, coffee flavored kiss, but the world’s not perfect, and you yawn instead. You look down at your mug like it’s betrayed you, and Hotch chuckles low.

“It’s decaf. I know you usually stop in the afternoon; I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were up all night because of me.” You have always been a person who falls in love with all the little details about someone, so the fact that he’s noticed this, remembers this, makes your heart beat a little faster. “I should let you go. You’ve done so much today, between staying late and baking for Jack—for me. You need to get some sleep.”

He’s right, it’s nearly ten, and you should be getting back home, but this is a moment you never want to end.

You just nod, though, and he reaches out to brush his hand over your back when he walks you to the door.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate that you did this for me,” he says, soft, like he still can’t imagine you would.

“You’re welcome, Hotch. Any time, really; I’m happy to help.”

You get home, clean your kitchen, and have a very late dinner, and the smell of good coffee and apples and cinnamon is still in your nose when you drift to sleep. “You didn’t hear what he said,” Hotch snaps almost a month later, with one hand splayed on his hip and the other on the table in front of him. The moment you saw him engaged in an argument with a member of the Sheriff’s department, fire in his eyes, you’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a small conference room, shutting the door behind you. It took almost three minutes of staring at each other for him to say something instead of just glaring at you for interrupting the pissing contest.

“I don’t need to know what he said. I know you, and I know you handle people like that with a quick, sharp remark and then you wash your hands of it. You don’t argue back and forth, you don’t draw it out. You would have regretted it if you did that today, so I stopped you.”

“You think you know me so well, do you?” he asks in an unkind tone of voice you can’t identify, haven’t heard from him before; the expression on his face is familiar, though, a scowl that only puts emphasis on his handsome features—it’s unfair, really.

You exhale, cross your arms.

“Yes, and I know you well enough to know you’re irritated with him, not me, so cut the shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been quite that direct with him, and certainly the first time you’ve ever sworn at him; your immediate instinct is to apologize, but he surprises you by huffing a laugh. The angry lines of his face smooth into something softer.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. He just—I can’t stand people like that.” He scrubs a hand through his hair in irritation. “We’re here to work—to do a job they couldn’t finish on their own. Not to be… objectified.” He mutters the last word, so low you almost don’t hear it, and then there’s a knock at the door. Derek enters.

“Sheriff wants a word, Hotch; do you have a sec?” With one last look at you, he nods, brushes past him to leave the room. Derek gives you the barest hint of a smile. “He was defending your honor, you know.”

You frown. You didn’t know.

“That jerk was talking about me?” you ask, clarifying, and he nods.

“Something about assuming you’re an athlete because he likes your ass. Set the boss man off.” You walk over to him and leave the room together, heading back to your workspace.

“Well Hotch is right, we’re here to work, not to be objectified. I can see how he would get angry.” Derek shoots you a flat, questioning glance.

“You think he’d be getting that worked up if it was my ass that guy was talking about? Or Emily’s?” The two of you stop outside the conference room, and you cross your arms, lean against the doorframe, frown.

“So what are you trying to say? That he sees me as being weak, thinks he needs to defend me? I'm as capable as either of you.” That may not be strictly true, because you’re a little more brains than brawn, like Spencer in that way, but you can hold your own and you thought Hotch knew that.

Derek just laughs, shakes his head, and ducks into the room. You follow, so confused.

“I thought you were just playing it close to the vest, but you’re oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious about what?” Emily asks, pen between her teeth, feet kicked up onto a chair, and you shrug.

“I’m still not sure. Hotch got into an argument with a deputy about me, and I asked Derek if Hotch thinks I’m weak and that’s why he felt like he had to defend me.” She smiles broadly around the pen, pulls it out of her mouth with a grin.

“Oh, honey. That’s not it. You know that’s not it, right?”

“I clearly don’t know what’s going on at all, so no, if you’d care to enlighten me,” you say, sinking into an empty chair. “I hate it when you guys are cryptic.” You love your team, but they have a habit of doing this all the time, saying things to each other with their eyes, or just a few words that don’t have any sensible meaning that you know of. It’s like they live to talk over your head, to say things without actually saying them.

“Okay. Hotch has a thing for you,” Emily says simply, and you blink.

Well that’s the very last thing you’d expected to hear.

“He absolutely does not.” You look at Derek, who’s making a face like you’re the one being crazy; you laugh out loud, can’t help it. “He does not. I’m pretty sure Hotch doesn’t have things, and if he did, he wouldn’t have a thing for me.”

“Why not? Because that would be too convenient, since you have a thing for him too?” Derek asks, taking the seat across from you, and you grab the nearest case file, flip it open and focus your attention on it.

“I care about him, the same way I care about all of you, and he maybe needs a little more care—but you guys are reading into things.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything more, because Hotch, JJ, and Spencer return, and you all have a lead to work.

You can’t help but wonder if you’re being obvious about your feelings, though, especially later, when you get back to the hotel and the group decides to have a drink at the bar.

JJ and Emily hit the pool table while Derek and Spencer head up for drinks, and you are left sitting with Hotch at the table, pressed together in the inside corner of a booth.

“Tired?” you ask him, because he does look worn out, his tie a bit loose, his eyes a little red. You know he doesn’t get much sleep when you travel, and you can’t imagine he’ll go to bed even when this little detour is over.

“Always,” he sighs, but when he looks over at you, he smiles, just a little. “Just can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Yeah, it gives Southern hospitality a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” The people you’ve interviewed today are, on paper, quite respectable, but there’s a Desperate Housewives, ‘everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse’ kind of thing going on, and it’s honestly exhausting. To your surprise, Hotch laughs.

“It really does. I don’t think I’ve ever missed the quiet solitude of my apartment quite this much.” You lean back against the vinyl of the booth, sigh.

“I miss my apartment, but it’s been too quiet lately. I prefer the sounds of someone else sharing space with me: the coffee maker percolating, the news in the background, the shower running, the sound of flipping the pages of a book or magazine.” You look down at your hands, because you’re getting a little more emotional than you usually let other people see. “Sorry. I’m not typically this open about being…”

You trail off, but Hotch looks over at you, concerned, the wrinkle between his eyebrows even more noticeable when you’re sitting this close. You think, just briefly, of running your thumb over it, but with your luck, Derek or Emily would see, and you’d never live it down.

“Lonely?” he finishes softly, and when you nod your head, he covers your hands with one of his own, bumps his shoulder against yours. “I get lonely too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You look up at him, feeling a little vulnerable, and his expression softens. “When we get back, maybe you could come over for dinner some night. Nothing fancy,” he clarifies, and you smile, “just two lonely people being a little less lonely.”

“That would be really nice.” You can see Derek and Spencer approaching out of the corner of your eye, and Hotch must too, because he removes his hand, slips back into the slight, persistent frown you have come to know and love. Derek looks at you, raises an eyebrow, and hands you your beer. You try to tell him to shut up with your face, plan to follow up later to see if that actually worked. “We have an agent down on the second floor,” Spencer says into his comms, and you immediately want to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t say agent down, kid; I’m like, slightly wounded at best.” You hold a hand against the stab wound on your side—the unsub honestly just grazed you, and you’d knocked him out with a single punch, which made you feel pretty awesome—and reach out the other so he can help pull you to your feet. Your hand comes up to your own walkie button. “I’m not down, I’m fine—just slightly stabbed,” you add, and Spencer is getting his cuffs on the unsub when Hotch and JJ burst through the doors.

Well, Hotch bursts. JJ follows behind looking strangely winded for one of the most naturally athletic people you know.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks, and you lift your shirt to show him the sluggishly bleeding gash.

“I’m fine, see? It’s not even deep. Spencer saw blood and got a little ahead of himself.” You turn to Spencer, who sticks out his tongue, then back to Hotch, who looks haunted and pale, with that goddamn wrinkle between his eyebrows again. He’s bent down, looking over your wound seriously—you’ve had worse, so much worse, that you don’t understand why he’s so worried about it—and then he leans up, presses a hand to your cheek, and pulls you close for a soft, tender kiss.

If this were a movie, right about now a camera would be panning around you in a circle, as you wrap your free hand around his neck, pull him closer, melt against his body like it’s all you’ve been dreaming of for months, and the two of you would break apart smiling, maybe even kiss again.

It’s not a movie, though, so you just bleed out against your hand and freeze, because Hotch is kissing you at a crime scene and you almost got filleted, so you’re not sure if this is a you got hurt, so I’d better kiss you kiss or an I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever, and you got hurt so I have to kiss you kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing a bit heavily, and you don’t know what to do, so you just lean in and press your lips to that wrinkle between his eyebrows that you’ve been thinking about so frequently since the first time you noticed it. You brush a hand through his hair, and when you pull back, he’s smiling.

“What was that?” He covers your hand on your side with his own and helps get you toward the elevator so you can be patched up by the EMTs; JJ and Spencer are left staring, open-mouthed in your wake, with an unconscious unsub at their feet, but neither of you are concerned about that.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now: to kiss that spot between your eyes so you’ll stop frowning for a change. Since I couldn’t, I decided to find other ways to help you stop frowning so much. It kind of became my life’s mission.” He sighs, puts his arm around you and holds you close while you wait for the elevator to bring you to the ground floor.

“I stop frowning when you’re around because you’re around, not just because of the things you do for me,” he tells you, and he presses his lips to yours for another warm, soft, perfect kiss. “I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now.” You tilt your head, make a sound of contemplation, and he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

“I think those cryptic idiots we work with might be onto something,” you say with a grin, and when the elevator lets you off and Hotch helps you toward the ambulance to be patched up, Derek and Emily are waiting with concerned looks on their faces. They must be pretty confused to see you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you guys were right; Hotch does have a thing for me!” you call as you walk past them, and when your wound is properly dressed and wrapped, you put your arms around his neck and let him kiss you until the frown and accompanying wrinkle are nothing but distant memories.

*The novel excerpt is from The Weaver by Emmi Itäranta.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

[manonblaqkbeak]

Sugar, sugar

(genuinely hate coming up with titles lol)

this is just rowaelin being pining idiots, one of my fave tropes for day 11--delayed love confession

just a note, the lifestyle in this fic is more of a background note and doesnt really take centre stage in this fic. it’s one ive been tempted to write for a while tbh but didnt really get around to it until now

cw: very, very light smut (like barely non existent, but just in case), a lil bit of swearing

enjoy! :)

3k words (officially my longest fic, yay!)

Every thought in Aelin's mind was blank. She trudged through her apartment that she shared with Nehemia, absentmindedly kicking off her heels that Rowan purchased for her months ago. Then the light jacket she wore joined the shoes, the fabric was perfectly soft and perfect for the autumn chill.

It was yet another piece of item that Rowan purchased for her. A lot of the things she had know were thanks to Rowan, either from his own wallet or from the biweekly allowance he sent her—a generous allowance that was a thousand times better than her weekly paycheck from the bookstore she'd been working at since she turned twenty-two; her business degree had turned out to be useless and so she turned to the bookstore that had been her stable job for three years.

Aelin barely touched her weekly wage now, it was practically buried underneath the money the Rowan gave her.

Because Rowan Whitethorn, thirty-five and a successful CEO who was well known, was her sugar daddy. Had been now for fourteen months. But he was more than that, more than just a man that paid her to spend time with him. He respected her, was loyal to her, listened to her and responded with actual sentences instead of a word or two like other men she had dated. He was charming, didn't treat her like she was nothing but arm candy, and she knew him so well, as he knew her, and each fortnight she sometimes forgot their whole arrangement, but she was sharply reminded when she received the notification from her bank that the two and a half thousand dollars that Rowan sent her was now in her savings account.

When she agreed to their arrangement after several get-to-know you dates, Rowan had wanted to give her three and a half grand every week, and gods Aelin had been tempted because she had never had so much money in her life, but told him that it was far too much and negotiated.

Two and a half thousand was the lowest that Rowan was willing to go, and even though Aelin only knew him for two weeks at that point, she could tell that he would not budge, so she agreed to the amount.

The first time that money had landed in her account, Aelin had thought that maybe she had imagined the whole thing, but the money was a sharp reminder of what she know was—a sugar baby. Those words still didn't feel like they applied to her.

And he still spent money on her when they spent time together. Just last week he gifted her with diamond earrings in the shapes of roses with a necklace to match. She wore them tonight, not because he bought them for her but because she genuinely loved the pieces.

Needing something sweet—despite the fact she had only finished her chocolate hazelnut gelato twenty minutes ago—she dug through her fridge and found the brownies that Nehemia had baked the other day. She told herself that she would leave some for her long-time friend, but Aelin really doubted that would happen.

Aelin relished in the cold air of the fridge as she found the new can of whipped cream on the top shelf. The fridge was one of the first things she purchased with the money she was now being gifted with (and after that came a new washer and dryer, a dish-washing machine and television. Almost everything in her apartment was brand new now, the food were actual brands instead of the generic, tasteless shit. She had bras that fit her properly and were so damned comfortable that she forgot she was wearing them half the time).

The old fridge was a cheap hunk of junk that she and Nehemia purchased off Facebook marketplace for a hundred dollars, it barely kept things cold, but with expensive rent and bills and general life things, Nehemia and her couldn't afford anything better.

Which was how she ended up in this situation. Picking up more shifts barely gave them anything extra, because the economy right now in Terrasen was shit. Nehemia had made a joke about needing sugar daddies, and Aelin, knowing that Nehemia could never really do such a thing, had decided that maybe it was a good idea.

Nehemia had told Aelin that she was insane for pursuing such a thing, and that she had only been joking, but Aelin was not and that she could handle herself if things went wrong.

Nehemia had told her not to do anything, but Aelin was determined and started her search. It had taken a while to find a website that was genuine and didn't make her feel like she had to scrub her eyes out with bleach.

She created her page in private, because she not only was Nehemia against the idea, but so was Elide and Lysandra—she didn't dare tell Aedion what she was doing. Her cousin could be an overprotective pain in her ass at times, and Aelin was very well aware that if Aedion caught wind of what she was doing, he would have locked her up in her room without any type of device so she couldn't go forward with her plan.

She appreciated their concern, she did, but she was a consenting, tax-paying adult, and if she wanted to use her time to get paid spending time with a rich man, then Aelin was allowed to do exactly that.

It wasn't prostitution, she had looked it up, because it was the sugar babies that had the power and so that was how it went with her and Rowan.

Aelin didn't even have sex with Rowan until it was the sixth month anniversary of her and Rowan's...relationship (and gods, it was the best sex Aelin ever had. Rowan was a generous and completely unselfish lover).

He was the first one she came across on the site and almost drooled down herself when she saw his picture. Silver hair, pine-green eyes, a beautiful tattoo down the length of his left arm and tanned skin, he was stupidly attractive and only ten years old than her.

Aelin messaged him first only after being on the site for ten minutes, deciding that surely he was the best one and that she needn't bother to look at any other candidates.

They hit it off straight away, and after deciding on a restaurant to meet at, Aelin had informed Nehemia of the matter, which she was promptly met with question after question: why can't a thirty-four year old man find someone his own age? Is he one of those men that can't date a woman five minutes older than him because of some stupid made up reason? How do you know for certain that it's him in the picture? What if he's cat-fishing you? What if he's a freak, or a killer? What if he's just pretending to be rich to kidnap you? What if, what if, what if?

And so after a heated discussion, Nehemia had come along on her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date and sat a few tables away from her and Rowan, watching them—especially him—the entire time like a hawk.

Aelin had completely forgotten that her friend was there, so enraptured by Rowan and what he did and how he saw life.

It had been fourteen months of seeing Rowan and genuinely enjoying spending time with him and weeks ago, she realised that she wanted it to be something more. That she had come to care for him, not because of the money, but purely because it was Rowan and he made her feel seen and he wasn't afraid of her, because she had once been told by an ex that she could be too much and that he couldn't handle all her baggage.

Aelin wanted a life with him.

So Aelin told Rowan she loved him when he dropped her off tonight after their dinner and a movie date, telling him how she felt, and he had said thank you. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and went home, leaving behind the pine-and-snow scent of him.

Aelin really wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

She was scarfing down her third brownie when Nehemia's bedroom door opened, her friend clad in an old matching pj set, her slippers shuffling across the tile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” her friend asked upon seeing Aelin's guttered look. Her dark brows furrowed. “Did that bastard hurt you? If he did, I'll—”

“He didn't do anything,” Aelin interrupted her friend. Taking the food, Aelin planted herself on the teal blue velvet sofa Rowan gave her for Yulemas last year, ignoring the scent of not just him, but of them both from when he came over after work just the other day with pizza and a DVD that she insisted that she watched because it was too good not to, when they forgot all about the movie as Rowan buried himself inside her, leaving hickeys all over her neck that she had to cover up with thick concealer.

Nehemia joined her on the couch, her friend momentarily forgetting for now that she had walked in on her and Rowan just moments after they finished, muttering under her breath in Eyllwe as she glared at them defiling the couch, and gave her a look that Aelin knew that Nehemia would listen to every word that came out from her.

And when Aelin was done recounting the story, all Nehemia could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yes, 'oh,'. I've probably fucked up the whole thing. So don't be surprised if I call you on your lunch break tomorrow telling you he's broken things off.”

“Aelin, I don't think he will. I know that I'm not the biggest fan of your...situation—”

“I'm aware,” Aelin said, cutting her friend off. “You still won't let me buy you a new mattress, even though yours is hard as a brick and lumpy as hell. I've told you that you can pay me—”

“Aelin,” Nehemia said, “we're not talking about mattresses right now. As I was saying, I doubt he'll break things off because I've seen the way he looks at you. I still think he's too old for you, but he cares for you. You probably just caught him by surprise.”

“How does he look at me?” Aelin was observant, but sometimes when she was with Rowan, all her observation skills went out the window.

“Like he loves you,” Nehemia said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Aelin sighed, her feelings slowly starting to crush her. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Sighing once more, Aelin put the food back in the fridge, showered and went to bed, forgoing her usual night texting ritual with Rowan.

She really wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't concentrate, which wasn't a good thing, since his job dealt with having to concentrate all the time. But no matter what mind-focusing techniques he did, he couldn't stop thinking about Aelin.

Couldn't stop thinking about how she said she was in love with him. How her beautiful eyes had been sparkling when she said those words to him. And how the light in them dimmed when he said thank you and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that he would talk to her later. But he hadn't texted her, nor did she.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you. He really couldn't believe that was what he said. Felt like an utter fool and a bastard as he realised he probably crushed her heart. Aelin didn't like being vulnerable, and she had been when she said those words and he had gone and fucked it all up.

Rowan loved Aelin, he did, but he truly wasn't prepared for those words. He loved how on the weekends they would be up at one am, baking chocolate goodies, dancing in the quiet kitchen, humming quietly to Aelin's classical music playlist, with her wearing not the nightgowns that he loved, but one of his old hoodies.

He didn't think that he would get along with her so well once they met, thinking that their online interactions were nothing but a fluke. He was moments away from deleting the profile because he didn't actually create it, but Fenrys had, his friend grumbling that he needed a girlfriend, with Rowan arguing that creating a profile on a sugar daddy site was not dating but probably the opposite, when Aelin messaged him.

His life-long friend didn't listen, much to Rowan's annoyance—but he didn't grab his phone out of his friends hand; Rowan blamed it on the several whiskys he had downed by that point.

Aelin bewitched him on that first meet up. She was intelligent as hell and funny, and creative and beautiful. He was aware of why she was on the date with him, but he didn't care, just as long as he got to see her again.

Fourteen months later and Rowan was still bewitched. He wanted to be with her on a permanent basis, but wasn't completely sure how to take that step.

Clearly, Aelin had taken that step for them, and Rowan was the worlds biggest moron.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you.

Groaning, Rowan turned away from his computer and looked at the skyline, ignoring the buildings to instead watch the puffy clouds drift by.

Aelin loved watching the clouds, loved stargazing, loved questioning about the universe and what the skies held.

He never really paid any of that stuff attention, not until he met her.

Rowan didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to think that he was about to break up with her over this. He had to see her, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, told his secretary to hold his calls for the rest of the day, and went to visit Aelin.

X X X X X X

It had been an usually busy day for a Wednesday and Aelin was glad for her lunch break as she trudged up to the roof of the shopping centre. She wasn't really allowed up here, but she wanted some fresh air and to feel the sun against her skin as she sat down and dug into her lunch—fast food, unfortunately for her, because she was so frazzled from last night that she completely forgot about making a pack lunch.

Rowan hadn't called her, or texted her. Not even an email had been sent her way.

Aelin hated that she felt so damned mopey. She was an independent woman, but gods, even a good morning text would have been fine.

She finished her lunch, popping several mints into her mouth to get rid of the onion taste, when the roof door crashed open and a familiar hulking figure came into view.

He must have spoken to Elide to find her here.

Aelin's brow furrowed. “Rowan, what are you doing here?” Oh gods, surely he wasn't going to break up with her, she still had hours to go; there'd be no way she could work if she had tears in her eyes.

Taking her hands in his, Aelin stood up. She steeled herself against whatever he was going to say.

“I love you, Aelin. I'm in love with you, too,” Rowan said, his eyes soft and full of genuine love. Aelin's heart shot up into her throat. “I want a life with you. I want us to buy a home, one that has warmth and character, and a big garden. I want a dog. And kids too, if you want, I know that you've never mentioned it, but if you don't want any then that is completely fine. I want to support you in whatever endeavors you want to take, and if you ever want to go back to university, then I'll support you, or if you want to find a way to use your business degree, I'll help you with that, too. Whatever you want Aelin, I'll give it to you, as long as you're by my side, I'll be happy.”

Aelin was silent for so long that Rowan thought that maybe he shocked her into silence. But eventually, she smiled, one that was dazzling in its beauty that it took his breath away.

“You love me?”

“I do, Aelin, I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Rowan groaned at the amusement in her tone, in her eyes. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She smirked. “Definitely not. It'll be a nice story to tell our children...one day. For now, I think we should contend with being proper significant others.”

Rowan nodded, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because I need to get back to work, since I'm no longer accepting your allowances. I won't deny the use of your credit card, but other than that, you are no longer my sugar daddy.”

It was Rowan's turned to smirk, and it was the one that made her core clench. “How about I be 'daddy' instead?”

Aelin snorted, even as she clenched around nothing again. Smacking his arm lightly, Aelin kissed him. “Only if you behave,” she said against his lips, “and now I really need to go back to work.”

Rowan walked her back, their fingers laced together, and as she turned to say goodbye, Aelin said, “I'll see you later, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and it took everything in him not to take her hand and into his car to have his wicked way with her.

By the time he thought of a response, Aelin was already back to work, helping a customer with an impressive stack of books in her arms.

But she knew he was still there, because the way she swayed her hips to the counter was all for him, and when she saw him watching her, Aelin winked, making Rowan's heart flutter in his chest.

He really did love her. And he would live with her teasing him for the rest of his life, just as long as she was with him.

[edupunkn00b]

Revisions, Ch. 2: Timeskip

Prev - Timeskip - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Written for @tsshipmonth2020's New Years, Old Tropes event.

Day 2: Timeskip

Tags: Human AU, Pining, Mutual Pining, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Slow Burn, Hanakahi Disease, Timeskip, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change - WC: 1723

Admiral Data winced as the automatic doors whooshed open loudly in the relative quiet of their darkened quarters. Geordi lifted his head from his pillow and smirked sleepily in the direction of the sound. “Just one more recommendation letter and then off to bed, huh, Admiral?” Data fully stepped inside their quarters, letting the door whoosh shut behind him. “Unfortunately, I underestimated the quantity of qualified candidates.” He walked to the bed and sat down next to his husband. “I am here now, at least.” “That you are, Data,” Geordi whispered, pulling him closer. “That you are.”

Logan’s hands hovered over the keys, unsure how—or whether— to continue the chapter. Despite Remus’ jovial insistence, Logan was not seriously attempting to write anything… risqué. Perhaps it would be best to simply end the section here and pick up the plotline in the morning.

As Logan typed the little section marker, he scoffed at himself. Even if he’d wanted to write something more figuratively… well, juicy, he was certainly not the right person for the job. Writing was best when it borrowed from personal experience—or at least a great deal of research—neither of which were at Logan’s ready disposal on this particular topic.

An ache in his back caused Logan to stretch, attempting to work out the kink forming between his shoulder blades. As he rolled his neck, he coughed, and caught sight of his alarm clock when he pulled a clean tissue from the box on his desk. 1:17 AM? How is that possible? Sighing, he saved his work, brushed his teeth, had another coughing fit, then brushed his teeth again. He turned off the light and, in the dark, changed into his pajamas. He stretched and crawled into bed to count Fibonacci numbers.

He fell asleep just after he got to 4,181.

~~~~~

When Logan woke the next morning, he felt more rested and refreshed than he had in a long, long time. The bed was delightfully toasty and his pillow had somehow managed not to be squashed flat in the night, still perfectly cradling his head and neck. Not yet willing to let go of the pleasant sensation, he kept his eyes closed and hummed happily, nuzzling deeper into the covers.

A warm arm snaked over his back and around his belly, reaching up to stroke his—bare?!—chest. A gravelly voice rumbled quietly near his ear. “Good morning, Lo. You’re awake.”

Logan’s eyes shot open and he flipped around in bed to stare, slack-jawed at the man lying next to him. Janus smiled back, brushing away a lock of his hair. “I’m sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Lifting up Logan’s chin with the edge of his finger, Janus closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

Initially squeaking in surprise, after a moment, Logan’s eyes closed and he kissed back, falling into Janus’ embrace like he’d done it a thousand times before. Lacing his fingers through Janus’ hair, he leaned in, deepening their kiss.

Janus hummed against his lips, pulling back after a moment, breathless. Logan lost himself in his gold-rimmed eyes and Janus chuckled. “Hmm… If this is how you respond, maybe I should startle you every morning.” He leaned in again, punctuating his words with a line of kisses along Logan’s jaw. “To think… I’ve been doing this wrong… all… these… years…" Logan draped his arms around Janus' shoulders, leaving his own trail of open-mouthed kisses along his neck.

Janus’ words were slowly filtering through Logan’s fuzzy thoughts—Wait, ‘years?’—when the bedroom door slowly opened.

“Oh, good! Lo Lo’s finally awake!” Remus’ voice washed over them. “Just in time for breakfast, Doc!” Remus sauntered in, bearing a tray laden with fruit, toast, three mugs, and a sleek aluminum carafe. The familiar aroma of Remus' coffee filled the room. “Morning, Lo Lo,” Remus murmured as he set down the tray, pressing a kiss against his mouth. Logan blinked, returning the kiss after a half-moment of hesitation.

Remus straightened and stroked his hand over Logan’s hair. “You okay, Lo?”

“Ye—yes, of course. I’m fine. A—a little groggy, perhaps.” Logan looked closely at Remus’ face, noticing silver sprinkled through his mustache.

“That’s good. I’d hate for you to feel sick on such a lovely day.” He rested one knee on the bed, “Here, scootch a bit, and dig in…” Remus captured Logan's mouth with his again, then leaned behind him to pull Janus closer for his own kiss.

Remus straightened and brought the tray closer to pour their coffees. “So, what’s on the agenda today, gentlemen? I am free as a bird now that Ro cancelled.” He took a sip, waggling his eyebrows over his cup. Janus reached over and plucked a little bunch of grapes from the tray and gave half to Logan.

“I regret I’ve got some work to catch up on—” he smiled and raised his hand at Remus’ outraged little gasp. “For just a couple of hours. Then I’m all yours for anything”—he lifted Logan’s hand to his lips, kissing it softly—”your hearts”—he did the same to Remus’—”desire.”

Remus sighed heavily, a wide grin belying his much put-upon-tone. “I suppose that will be okay.” He winked at Janus and refilled his coffee. “How about you, Lo Lo? What’s your morning looking like?”

“I, ah, I… I believe I need to check my calendar.” Logan thought back to what he'd planned last night. He'd intended to finish the next week’s lesson plan, work on his story, and then meet Janus and Remus downtown to shop for supplies for Patton's birthday gift. None of his plans had included waking up in bed with Janus or being kissed by a silver-mustachioed Remus.

“Oh, sure, Lo…” Remus reached over to the nightstand and passed Logan a translucent rectangular device about the size and thickness of a credit card. Logan stared at it, turning it over in his hands. He reached up to adjust his eyeglasses… Eyeglasses that weren’t there.

“Lo?” Remus stroked Logan’s hand and tapped the little device. A light screen popped up, displaying Logan’s agenda. “Lo, I haven’t seen you try to adjust your glasses in years…” He shook his head and cupped Logan’s cheek, concern painting his features. “Not since you were still getting used to your eye surgery. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“You did sleep rather late this morning, my dear. For you, at least.” Janus met Remus’ eyes over Logan’s head.

Logan looked between them. “I—I wonder if perhaps I’m fighting something off.” Janus nodded and kissed the side of his head.

“Hey, who’s got a husband with an open calendar who loves to snuggle?” Remus kissed Logan’s cheek. “You do!” He handed Logan a plate of toast with a smile. “Here, have some breakfast and then I am supervising some extra rest time. No sneaking in a computer, either.” He laughed and took back the little card-shaped device, sliding his thumb across the outer edge and deactivating the screen.

Janus finished his second cup of coffee and dabbed daintily at his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you, Remus, for the breakfast.” He stroked Logan’s cheek, meeting his eyes. “And thank you, both, for the company.” Logan leaned into his touch, letting his eyes fall closed at the warmth spreading from his palm and fingers splayed across his skin. “See you both before lunch.” Janus then slid out of bed, took a silk robe off one of the hooks on the back of the door and slipped through the door.

Remus drank his coffee while Logan finished eating, then gathered their dishes onto the tray and set it on top of a dresser. Belatedly, Logan began to notice just how much had changed in his room. Or was this their room? The bed was much larger and the walls were muted lemon yellow. Artwork in Remus' distinctive style was displayed along the walls, only one of which Logan recognized. The blankets were a deep indigo, much like the ones he remembered, but were thicker and sized for the bed.

“Ready for a little more rest, Lo Lo?” Remus pressed the back of his hand against Logan’s forehead, a deep furrow growing between his eyebrows. “Are you sure you feel alright? You just don’t seem yourself this morning, Love.”

Letting his eyes fall closed, Logan smiled and took Remus’ hand, holding it against his cheek. “I’m groggy, but truly… I’ve never felt better.”

“Well,” Remus murmured, slipping under the covers with Logan and wrapping his arms around him. “Let’s see what we can do about getting you a touch more sleep, then.”

Logan sighed against his chest, intertwining their fingers. He smiled when he noticed their matching wedding bands, a three-tone braid going all the way around their ring fingers. He kissed Remus’ knuckles, then brought his hand close to his chest. The last thing he remembered before his lids grew heavy was the soft heat from Remus' arms cradling him, the tickle of his mustache against his temple and his quiet murmur, “Sleep well, Lo Lo. I love you.”

~~~~~

Logan shivered as he woke huddled under his comforter. He tugged the edges on the blanket, pulling it tighter around his shoulders. He opened his eyes and sat up, blinking against the blurriness. He scanned room, catching a tiny glint of light reflecting off his eyeglasses on the nightstand. The last tendrils of his dream still whispered through his mind and he remembered that, in the dream, he could see clearly when he first woke. He set the frames on his face and quickly snatched a tissue from the box he kept on his nightstand, coughing into it.

In the dream, he’d… he'd been in bed… but he hadn't woken chilled. And he hadn't been alone… He leaned back against the pillows, brushing his fingers over his lips.

Logan sighed. It had been a nice dream.

After a few minutes, he pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed. As he straightened the covers over his pillows he noticed a pattern of indentations on his ring finger on his left hand. He traced a finger along the unusual bumps, then flicked on his desk lamp to get a better look. All the way around the base of his left-hand ring finger, in clear but shallow relief, there was a perfect braided circle imprinted on his skin.

Just where a wedding ring might sit.