#i love jet set style

[lymooniee]

So I uh went all out... hehehehe

[happi-dreams]

fuck it were drawing him 8 bit boooyysss

[grapefruit185]

gorillaz and soul eater have a similar flavor imo

[todayisafridaynight]

OH OH OH OH OH FULL NAME FULL NAME AKANE KISHIDA

I figured she was the one to get in touch first based on Jo knowing she wanted to see her son, but I have SO many questions about that... how does she know her son survived... how does she know Ichiban was her son and not Aoki... how does she know who Jo is and how to contact Jo... (<- tearing my hair out as we speak)

Anyway when you have the opportunity please view the gameplay footage...

obsessed how its addressed to Mr. Jo Sawashiro i dont know why that detail tickles me... thats cute..

chicken-and-egg kinda deal with Who Contacted Who first. like id ASSUME sawashiro'd get in contact with her first if he was feeling guilty enough about The Whole Situation and was willing to dig into arakawa's past imo, esp since akane wouldn't have any reason (or ability to) know who he was until after he joins the yakuza.. and i mean.. shes long gone by then.. tho that's assuming they got in contact early on and they didnt JUST start communicating within the past few years.

BUT EITHER WAY just gotta wait and see for it all to play out.. in three months <- still cant believe its coming out january 26th 👁️💋👁️

IM OBSESSED WITH THE GAMEPLAY FOOTAGE im soooo glad i was right in how they were going to handle the style change aspect (though i guess it wasnt a hard thing to predict but still..). I LOVE HOW KIRYU CAN ACTUALLY ROAM FREE THAT'S SO COOL i remember people kept speculating on how the gameplay was gonna go with how different ichi and kiryu's playstyles are and this is SUUCH a rad way to answer that question. my excitement is immeasurable and im gonna throw up

[bilandi-shmandi]

Just bought Hi-Fi Rush

[bunnis-monsters]

Hello!

I really love your writing and the way that you portray the reader 💕✨

I just wanted to drop this doggy bag of ideas at your door and you can do with them what you will!!

Warnings: MDNI, fem!reader, slight colorful language, most of it is suggestive, the last one is more explicit

\(^•^)/

My favorite/comfort vibe: the character genuinely loves the reader and doesn’t make “I hate being married” jokes, the Gomez Addams type of guy. Always supportive and never disrespectful. More loyal than a dog. Literally being rude or hurtful is not even in their operating system. Pure embodiment of gentle chivalry. Maximum dose of respect human beings and living creatures juice every morning. I literally can not get enough of this trope

It’s the old west and that rancher with a spotted tail and a large set of horns sticking out of his head is looking mighty fine as he wipes his freckled chest and neck with his patterned bandanna. You, a sweet young lady who is just passing through the town, offers him some water to drink. He accepts it with gratitude and chugs it down. You try not to stare at the lump moving in his throat, or the stray drop of water that you feel jealous of, it getting the chance to caress his skin instead of you. You try to play coy, but he takes his deep breaths into his large muscular barreled chest, he smells your sweetness and can look down and notice your legs shuffling closely together, your cheeks looking a little more flushed. He wonders if your other cheeks could flush the same way. His patterned ears flick and he tries not to get too excited as his tail swishes back and forth. He gives you back your canteen and offers you a ride to your temporary lodgings. Maybe he can convince to stay indefinitely, maybe he can convince you to do it by his side. <3

The og type vampire! Dracula but a himbo/science genius that studies you to learn about humans. He made a special trip to the village to buy more candelabras for you to move around and 3 more long flowy dramatic gowns that accentuate your curves and allow the moonlight to caress your soft skin just as he wishes to caress you. He leaves your favorite snack lying fresh for you in odd places, he seems to think this is all you need to live in way of nutrition, I mean, he only consumes one thing right? He assumes it’s the same for his little human. Cue hijinks of her escaping to the village to eat and teach the vampire how to take care of humans, and her learning about his vampire ways and his fancy new witchcraft (which is just sciencey things). He loves garlic but is severely allergic to it. Literally has been looking for a formula to cure it for like so long, it’s basically the only reason he got interested in science. He mumbles about cheesy garlic bread when he is in one of his rare sleeps.

The protective punk/gang leader pixie! with nasty ass styled jet black hair (and a hauntingly beautiful shimmer to it) protectively grabbing his girl by the waist, pulling you close as an “accidental” foul baseball narrowly misses your face. He glared back at the team who had just realized that they chose the wrong person to pick on, their smirks sliding off their faces. He does enjoy a good game! He likes to use his baseball bat (decorated with dragonflys that you made to match his wings) for more…unsavory things. He’ll be stopping by the afterschool meet to teach them how one could really use a bat, with them as the kind, totally willing volunteers :) He comes home to you with strange stains on his white tank top, you try not to stare too long at his slender and molded waist, perfectly framed by his high waisted fitted denim jeans. He catches you looking though, and gives you a “c’mere baby doll and gimmie some sugar” an annoyingly smug smirk plastered across his horribly perfect face. You were already glued to him, cursing yourself for loving such an insufferably wonderful and rough and tough fool.

The succubus! Butler who literally never stops thinking about you. Who is with you from sun up to sun down to serve you and care for you in any capacity that your little heart desires. Literal doormat, might actually fantasize being a door mat for you tbh? Loves seeing you in elegant and lavish shoe wear, he hates dirt for existing and never wants your feet to touch an unclean floor. Would literally pass out if someone inconvenienced you. You just roll your eyes and smile. You pat the space between his horns, pulling him close to your chest and resting your head atop his, gently reminding him again that you live in a reasonably priced apartment in a reasonably priced area and you never asked for a butler or to be treated like royalty and that he can relax and just enjoy your company. (He literally just showed up one night and decided he wanted to be your butler). He won’t hear of it though, you are a goddess that must be attended to! Don’t take this from him, it makes him so happy to be of service! You begrudgingly allow him to spoil you once more. This time though, you manage to trick him (you didn’t, all you did was ask) into the bathtub with you where you press your bare chest flush against his back and softly scrub his chest with a softly scented product. You insist that this is his reward for being such a dutiful and kind partner, and he’s glad that the bubbles hide the situation happening between his legs. You’re just as happy to help him with that too, reaching around front and reminding him again how beautiful he is and how lucky you are to have him in his life and he literally went feral, water and bubbles coating the tiles as you two tangle around in the water. The next morning he bring you breakfast to eat on the balcony, he happily watches you eat your meal, happy to see you eating and getting full just as he did to you last night ;)

The Undead!Soldier that never wanted to be sent off to the war in the first place and constantly looks at the photo in the heart locket you gave him and wishing to come home safe to your arms. Wishing to free himself from endlessly reviving in different places where he becomes a part of an undead army, only to be defeated and re animated again, praying to one day respawn somewhere close to you, where you can be his light and save him from this dark and endless maze. When you finally manage to free him, you took him to the local necromancer to get put back together, you guys couldn’t find his ring finger so the necromancer threw one in for free. It had a cryptic and eerily familiar tattoo on it resembling a small yellow creature with blue overalls. A shiver went down your spine and you cringed, the two of you went to another necromancer the next day to get it replaced immediately.

The town crook, swiper no swiping type bitch. He has a large fluffy gray and black ringed tail and a cute matching set of ears. His jaw is sharp and his fingers are dexterous, he can never seem to keep them to himself. It’s hard to get something of yours back once he’s managed to sneak it away from you and into his stash. You’ve certainly been spending a lot of money and time buying new undergarments. One night, you catch him rummaging through your panty drawer. He stops like a deer in the headlights. No, not because you caught him, took you long enough anyways. No, it’s that nice little lingerie nightie that you’ve got on. Now just who did you wear that for? He’s no stranger to your clothing habits (him? A peeping Tom? Nooooo~) You surely must have worn it for him!! You’d never admit it but you did wear it in hopes of stalling him long enough to get a good look at your secret admirer. He blushes profusely as you stalk closer to him, studying the planes and details of his handsome face up close. His fingers twitch uncontrollably by his sides as he desperately fights to keep them off you without your say so. He can smell your sweet scent up this close and- what are you doing to him?! He’s about to make a mess in his pants and you haven’t even touched him yet! Your arms playfully clasped behind your back as you lean back and walk over to the bed, stopping before it. You slowly tease the panties down your plush thighs and flick it in his direction without looking, sliding your soft legs underneath the covers. “Come back soon lover boy” you wave him goodbye as he hops out of your balcony window into the night, a dainty pair of panties worn across his face. The next morning, you awoke to a collection of expensive jewelry and colorful stones mixed with various and obscure snacks, a ringed tail peeking out from atop your window/

the out of luck wolf!mutt street fighter with nothing to lose finding the girl of his dreams when he meets eyes with a widowed Governess. She never actually met her late husband but at the wedding, he promptly left to serve in a far off war and never returned. The Governess publicly shamed and pitied all the same in the eyes of the people. He didn’t care about any of that, he didn’t care about her status or that she was once married or that she probably wouldn’t even recognize who he was if she saw him again. He hasn’t seen her since he was just a scrawny runt, beaten and bruised just as he is today, but with the difference of being able to defend himself now. He remembers your sweet chubby cheeks and plush arms that always felt so safe to be in. You two were just children, him a dirty street urchin, and you, a daughter set to inherit a duchy upon marriage. You to had lost touch as you got busier with your studies and began to grow up. He had honestly let you fade from his mind as well over time. But he’ll never forget when he saw you again. Now fully grown with eyes so striking that you reminded him what life was supposed to feel like with a single spark. His barren and brush covered heart caught fire and the only thing that could quench it was getting a taste of you. He manages to find ways to insert himself into your life and get to know you again. You like to read? He never learned how but he’d be happy to try if you did it with him! Otherwise doesn’t see the point. Wants to impress you with his fighting skills and never understands why you get upset for his safety and getting roughed up. He came back alive right? What’s a few more scratches? (He also loves it when you play nurse on him, he loves being doted on). Nobody understands why the widowed Governess would hang out with a mutt like him, he’s quick to silence the rumors and hate, and you’re growing suspicious of how eagerly he allows you to bandage him. He clicks his teeth when he notices that you’re catching on. He needs to be careful, this is the only time he feel like he can get close to you and get a whiff of your scent. He always feels bad that he’s dirty and smells of the streets. Maybe with time, you can tempt this sweet stray into your safe and open arms, where you can help clean him up, and instead of a street fighter, he’s a dude in a nice suit that he has already managed to fuck up, fighting in the street with the bus boy he tripped into. You’re at the snack table minding your business and letting him get his energy out, getting ready for when you two have to release some different energy in the comfort of your shared home later that night.

The highelf!pervert!artist in his mansion with an garden containing an insurmountable amount of foliage and beautiful landscaping, eyeing his sweet plump little maid from afar, savoring the sight as he paints your soft figure onto the canvas. He hisses as his hand softly brushes up and down his member, the skin with a shimmery undertone and a flushed mushroom tip, long and monstrous. He stops and lets his poor leaking cock go again, it swings down and the weight of it almost seems to stall it from popping back up against his softly defined abdomen, some precum staining it sheen. He furiously paints you, his enhanced eyesight allowing for him to see across the courtyard, his studio conveniently being directly across the way from your room, when you lay on your back, your hand between your plush thighs, his sensitive ears picking up on your soft gasps and moans that occasionally sound like his name. It has to be his name right? Surely you must be doing this to him on purpose!! He finishes the last paint stroke that he needs to complete his first coat, he quickly moves his pillow to the window with a bench built in underneath it. He wastes no time bucking his hips in to its softness, imagining that it was you, he sees you struggle to get your release and he just can’t take it anymore. You’ve known each other for years, you were his favorite maid and the only one that he ever paid attention to. You sure took your sweet time getting comfortable with him, he’s positive that in the past few months, you’ve been deliberately teasing him and trying to get his attention. Surely that’s why you must be driving him insane like this?? Unbeknownst to him, you were just that fucking clueless, but don’t worry, he’s about to come and show you exactly how he’s feeling towards you! When he gets his hands on you, it’s game over for being apart from him. He’s always going to want his pretty little muse to be within his line of sight! How else is he going to paint that lovely portrait of you if you keep closing your legs? Here, he knows a few ways to help you relax!~

Sorry for the long ass ask, I just wanted to share some ideas with you since I’m too lazy to ever do anything with them. I hope you’re doing well and getting all the rest and hydration you need!

For now imma share these ideas with y’all and ask which one y’all like best!!

Comment below what you’d like to see me expand on :3

[yelenasdiary]

Hey, i'm the same one with the idea.

So i was thinking, the Marvel universe.

Wanda had the boys, but they are Vision's kids. Yn is their bestfriend(Wanda and Nat) and played like cupid, you know, they were a couple thanks to her.

So well, I was thinking something about being reincarnated, i don't truly believe in it but in a history i like that type of things.

Wanda was pregnant again, with a baby girl, and in the time Wanda was suppose to gave birth, Yn was in a mission but it went wrong, she got shot and even if they try to "fix" everything, they couldn't and she died.

In the moment, the doctors were trying to do their things, Wanda has the labor contractions and finally gave birth.

So the thing is, the "soul" of Yn went to the baby, or something like that.(I don't know how to say those things, i try my best to write in english hahaha)

And Wanda and Nat found about it and named the baby after Yn.

While the little Yn was growing up, they saw how many things she did in the same way as Yn, and of course they talked about her with the little one.

And basically, you can change everything you want and need to write the story, if you want to write it, of course. Thank you. Have a good day, or night.

Watching Over You

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Avenger! Reader (Platonic), Mentions of Wanda x Vision. 

Summary: Somethings in this world are unexplainable but what if that one thing helped bring two people together to start a new life

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Character Death, Mentions of guns, and Child Birth | 1.5K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: I love this idea, it’s something different! I hope you enjoy this, I do apologise if this isn’t as exciting as you hoped. Thank you for sending it! x 

The blue sky started to look dim, your body turning cold as Clint and Steve rushed you to the quinjet. Steve carrying you bridal style while Clint cleared the path, the soldier laid you down on one of the uncomfortable beds and strapped you down tightly. “It’ll be okay! We’ll get you home” you heard Steve’s faint voice before things went black. Clint wasting no time starting up the jet to rush you home to medical. 

Meanwhile, your best friends were preparing for the next chapter in their lives. You could say you were cupid in Wanda and Natasha’s love story. After Wanda and Vision got divorced, Wanda struggled to get out of the loveless slump she was in. You did everything you could think of to help her get over Vision, but it was hard when her two eldest children were fathered by him. But with some time and patience, Wanda opened herself up to dating again. Did she expect her next marriage to be with a woman? No, but she was so thankful that you helped her see just how much Natasha loved and cared for the mother of two. 

It wasn’t exactly easy for Nat either. Her feelings for Wanda started well before the brunette got divorced and watching Wanda have a little family with somebody else pushed Natasha’s hopes for a family of her own further and further to the back of her mind. But now? Now Natasha and Wanda were hours away from welcoming their first child together. 

Without you and setting up a cheeky few blind dates and listening for hours on end to your friends feelings for one another, you weren’t sure what the two would be doing now. But it’s been 2 years since they got married and a lot of happy tears on the way. 

“Something isn’t right!” Wanda said in a panic, “Nat, something isn’t right, I can feel it!” She added, rubbing her hand over her swollen stomach. Wanda’s water broke a couple of hours ago, but she wasn’t dilated enough to be taken to the delivery room. Natasha comforted her wife by taking her hand, “have some ice chips detka, everything is okay, I promise” she replied before offering Wanda a cup of ice chips. Wanda saw that Natasha didn’t quite understand her wife’s worries, she slowly shook her head, “it’s not the baby, something just doesn’t feel right” Wanda said, her eyes building with tears. 

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” Natasha asked. Wanda shook her head, “please don’t leave me” Wanda replied, looking up at Natasha. Although Wanda’s current state of mind was confusing Nat a little, she sat down beside Wanda’s bed and quickly changed the topic to keep her wife distracted. 

“So, do you think is going to get jealous first? Tommy or Billy?” She joked, causing Wanda to playful slap her hand away from her. 

----

What seemed like forever had passed, Wanda was only seconds away from giving birth. Natasha by her side holding her hand has her wife almost broke her knuckles in pain and while the delivery room was full of excitement and happiness, another room was full of the exact opposite. 

Tony, Steve, Clint, Maria, Thor, Bucky and Pepper sat around the large table in one of the many conference rooms. Nothing but silence was shared, tissues in the center of the table that mainly Maria and Pepper reached for, the guys looking at one another, all wondering how to process the news. 

“We have to tell them” Steve broke the silence. 

“Last update I had was Wanda was taken into the delivery room. Nat said she’d keep me posted but I don’t think we tell them yet” Clint replied. 

“We can’t not tell them; they’re going to know. Especially Wanda” Maria chipped in, whipping her tears on a tissue. 

“How about we just deal with it when need too, right now, we should probably go to the hospital and be there for them” Pepper suggested, “nothing we do is going to change anything” she added. Tony nodded in agreement, “if anything, we tell Nat first. We shouldn’t tell Wanda right now” he inserted. 

The small team came to an agreement, it wasn’t easy, and they wished things were different, that they would have better news but the best thing they could all do right now was to be there for each other. 

Steve knocked softly on Wanda’s door in the hospital before slowly opening it, everybody had a soft smile on their faces and even through the news they had to keep to themselves for now, the excitement of meeting a new little family member helped make things feel a little better. 

“Hey guys!” Wanda smiled softly at her extended family. Natasha was gently rocking their new-born daughter in her arms as the others entered the room. Clint stepped close to Natasha, looking down at his friend’s little baby. “She’s beautiful” he whispered softly.  

“Do you want to hold her?” Nat offered with a sense of proudness in her voice, Clint nodded, “I’d love too” he added. 

“Hey, where’s Y/n?” Wanda asked, looking at everybody. Thor’s eyes dropped immediately to his feet which only made Wanda tilt her head slightly to the side, “Nat, uh, there’s something I need to run by you, do you mind if we step outside for a moment?” Steve quickly said before Wanda could question anything. Wanda watched as Steve and Natasha left the room, the others quickly turning the attention back to the baby in Clint’s arms. 

“Does she have a name yet?” Maria asked. 

“We have a couple of ideas, but nothing seems to feel right at the moment” Wanda said, smiling tiredly at her. 

“Steve, what is it?” Natasha asked, a sparkle in her eye that Steve hated to break. “We thought it would be best to tell you first” he started. 

“Tell me what?” Natasha frowned slightly, trying to read Steve for an answer. 

“Y/n is gone. There was a situation on the mission, and she was shot, she never made it off the table Nat” 

Natasha was in disbelief as she cocked a brow at her friend, “you know this is a really shitty time to play a joke like that. She’s never miss this” 

Steve stood in silence, allowing the news to sink in until it did, and Natasha’s eyes filled with tears. “When did Helen call time of death?” Natasha asked. “6:42pm” Steve answered, unaware that the little fact would cause Nat to break completely. He caught her in his arms, comforting her until she was able to gather herself once more. “I t-think you guys should go” she looked up at him, “I need to tell Wanda” 

“I understand” Steve replied before the two of them entered the room once again. “Alright guys, I know it’s exciting, but I think we should let Wanda get some rest and our little darling will need a feed soon” Natasha announced, any excuse to kindly ask them to leave. They understood the moment they looked at Steve, they all gave Wanda a hug before the room was just the three of them. 

----

It took a few long days for Wanda to process the news, every time she looked at her new baby, all she felt was happiness but in the short moments she was able to look into her daughter’s eyes, all she saw was you and that was the thing that troubled her a little. Not everybody believed in reincarnation, Wanda wasn’t sure she believed in it much herself but when it came to finalizing the birth certificate, it was time to give the new-born a name. 

“That can’t be right” Wanda frowned, the blue ballpoint pen hovering over the birth certificate. 

“What’s not right detka?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on Wanda’s knee under the dining room table. “Pumpkin’s time of birth, it has to be a mistake” she replied. Pumpkin being the nickname they gave their daughter until they were able to settle on a final name. 

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t notice that” Nat replied, watching as Wanda’s eyes filled with tears. She dropped the pen from her hold and ran her fingers through her hair, “our best friend died the exact same time our daughter was born” she looked to Nat, “call me crazy but this can’t be a coincidence. Every time I look into Pumpkin’s eyes, all I see is Y/n. Even her cheeky little smile makes me feel like Y/n is here” Wanda went on. 

Natasha didn’t think her wife was crazy, not for a second. “Me too” the red head admitted, bringing her hand to cup Wanda’s cheek, wiping her tears. “I know we’re stuck on a name but I can’t help but want to name her after Y/n” she added. Wanda smiled softly through her tears, “I wanted to suggest that. I would love to name her after Y/n, I think it’s a great idea” 

As time went on, little Y/n grew up knowing more and more about the Avenger she was named after, she leant about how you helped her mother’s get together, she learnt all about your favorite hobbies, likes and dislikes. There was plenty of little things that mini-Romanoff did that made everybody around her think of you, from her cheeky smile to her stubbornness and even her mischief behavior when playing with her brothers, she might be half Wanda and half Natasha but she was in many ways, a part of you.

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[ameliathornromance]

Hot summer evenings are your worst nightmare.

With the relentless heat, your hair suffered greatly. Having curls was one thing in the winter, it was easier to maintain then, it meant that there was no need to use as many potions you needed for hair care.

Sometimes, you just felt like you couldn’t be bothered with your hair. It was too much hassle, too much work. But your Orc Boyfriend adored them and that’s why you kept up the routine.

You didn’t do it just for him of course, you loved having shiny and healthy ringlets… but on hot summer evenings, the last thing you wanted to do was all the hair care that it took to keep them looking nice.

Orcs naturally have straight, jet black hair and although they do style it in braids and updo’s none of them ever have it curly, so it’s not like any of them have some fast track way to keeping their hair in check that you could use.

A part of you was jealous that all they had to do was lie down in a river, rinse their hair through once and leave it to air dry. Lucky bastards.

After coming back from a nearby spring, you sat on the floor and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your tired expression stared back, your damp hair dripping water onto the carpeted rug below you.

In front of you, on the little table you’d set up, were all the potions you used on your hair. One a bright aqua blue for locking in moisture and another, a soft lilac to help the curls keep their form.

You wanted to get started… really you did. But looking at the two bottles in front of you, you found that your arms would not move.

“Need a hand?”

Looking around, your saw your Orc sitting up from his place on the bed. You’d thought he was asleep.

“Oh, no hun you go back to sleep.” You told him.

“I don’t mind helping.” Throwing the covers off the bed, he came over and sat behind you. “I’ve seen you do this routine hundreds of times and you look exhausted.”

When you went to protest again, your Orc shushed you, “let me help, love.” He kissed your cheek and leaned over your shoulder to reach for the potion bottles.

Realising that there was no way to talk him out of this, you stayed quiet and watched as he took the towel you had slung over you shoulder and began to towel your hair dry.

It was a pleasant surprise to see him work so meticulously. To feel his hands comb through your hair with such care, gently separating it into sections and working on them one by one.

The stress and build up to actually doing your hair melted away as his hands massaged your scalp. You nearly fell asleep then and there.

“I didn’t think you ever paid much attention to me when I did my hair.” You admitted as he scrunched your hair in his fists.

Your Orc Boyfriend let out a chuckle, “how could I not? You look so gorgeous when you’re concentrating.”

Pursing your lips, you look away from him and look at your lap, hiding an abashed smile. Once he was finished, he got up and tossed a satin cloth to you. “For when you sleep.”

Catching it, you looked down at it, then back at your Orc, who smiled at you. “Yeah, I even pay attention to that.”

Your heart fluttered as he pulled you into bed alongside himself, and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you,” you whispered, snuggling into his body.

“Anytime my love.”

Patreon

[kickmuncher3]

Emily Axford’s PCs Ranked by How Likely They Are To Have Worn Crocs:

There was discussion on a recent short rest about which of Emily’s PCs are most likely to wear crocs, so I humbly present my findings:

1. Brenda Elizabeth: 100% canonical that she wears crocs. She is even wearing crocs in her canon artwork. God bless you Zac Oyama.

2. Tarragon Snakeroot: Also 100% canonical that she wears crocs, but the DM is being a little punk about it. Regardless of whether or not Murph thinks crocs exist in Eldermourne, if Emily says she’s wearing crocs, she’s wearing crocs.

3. Sophia Lee: A human living on present day earth. I’m certain she’s worn crocs around her place on Staten Island.

4. Chirp Featherfowl: Lives in the Feywild, but has a wife and child on present day earth. Has definitely tried on her wife’s crocs. Loves the novelty of them.

5. Ylfa Snorgelsson: Same voice as Brenda Elizabeth, so she’s already croc-coded. Plus, due to multiversal shenanigans, it’s almost guaranteed that there exists a version of her who’s worn crocs.

6. Onyx Lumiere: I don’t remember if crocs have been confirmed as canon in Trinyvale, but they definitely are. If Onyx didn’t already own a pair of pastel crocs, she’s surely looted a pair from someone she’s killed.

7. Fia Boginya: Crocs are not necessarily her style, but she lives in Eldermourne, so she’s had ample opportunity to wear them.

8. Brimstone Billy: Also, lives in Eldermourne, but I’m not sure if crocs have made their way to Endoterra yet.

9. Sundry Sidney: Technically exists in our future, but crocs are probably ancient relics in her time. Even if she could get her hands on a pair, she wouldn’t be able to get them on over her permanent roller skates.

10. Fig Faeth: I’m gonna say that crocs probably exist in Solace, but Fig was too preppy to wear them as a kid and is too punk to wear them now.

11. Moonshine Cybin: I’ll throw Murph a bone and say that crocs don’t exist in Bahumia, but if they did, I bet Moonshine would wear them. If a crick elf was gonna wear shoes, they’d probably wear crocs.

12. Calliope Petrichor: Again, no crocs in Bahumia, but even extra no crocs in the Feywild. Furthermore, they aren’t really the shoes of choice for either crime families or knights. No crocs for Calli.

13. Saccharina Frostwhip: Calorum is the setting least likely to contain crocs. It’s such a classic medieval fantasy world. That said, growing up poorer than the other PCs makes Saccharina the most likely A Crown of Candy character to have worn crocs.

14. Jet Rocks: By far the least likely Axford character to have worn crocs. Spent her short life growing up royal in a lavish castle with dreams of becoming a military commander in a world where crocs absolutely do not exist in the first place. Case closed.

[lilrainbowcloud]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Pairing: Jet x Earth Bender Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers

Word count: 1.85k [masterlist]

a/n: theres not much fic for him, why? also this is based on dwoht and am currently listening to it rn.

Taking a deep breath, your foot came down on the earth, making four medium sized rocks burst from the ground.

Focusing your energy towards the wooden circular target that was mounted on a tree trunk, you let out the breath you held and along went the rocks, flying towards the target. Transforming into sharp spikes before impaling themselves into the wood.

An annoyed sigh left your lips. Two of them missed, one went into the outer ring and the other one hit the tree trunk above it instead.

"You're getting better."

Shocked, you turned around to see Jet standing a few meters away from you, in his usual armored attire and hair free from a tie. Didn't even realize he was there watching you the whole time. Didn't even hear his footsteps coming.

"No. I don't know. I guess?" Flustered by his presence and comment, you shook your head trying to clear off the thoughts and went to sit on one of the logs. He joined you right after.

"You are though. It's better than last week." He was watching you. You could feel the weight of his gaze but you just couldn't look back at him.

Were you shy? Yes you were.

To be honest, it was kind of random how you two met.

One day you were practicing your bending by the river. Setting up river stones on the big boulders and trying to hit them with your bending. But, to your luck, or unluck, one of the spikes flew straight past the head of Jet as he was walking to the city.

The day you met was the day you almost potentially killed him.

After that, you had joined his little secret club. It was awkward and it still was with him. Was it guilt and embarrassment that held you back from him? But that was months ago. It was something else here.

You just didn't want to admit it.

Your feelings for him, that is, grew over time. With every time you spent with him, with every encouragement he gave you during your practices, he made you feel safe and secure yet there was a wall separating you from him.

It was you who made that wall. He couldn't see it.

"I almost hit pipsqueak last week," a smile formed on your lips as you recalled the memory. In your defense, he was in the way.

That emitted a chuckle out of him. The sound was lovely to your ears. Your smile remained as you stared at the bonfire in the middle of the pit.

"Hey, come on," Standing up, he offered his hand to you.

Humming in confusion, you looked up at him and took his hand regardless.

"Try it on me," He gave you that smile that just tugged at your heartstrings, playing it like a harp. A melodious sound ringing in your ears.

"What? As in, fight you?" You stared at him as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"Yeah, fight me." Picking his swords up, he gave them both a swing.

Oh he was serious?

"No, I'm-I'm tired already," Rose bloomed on your cheeks as you once again looked to the ground, avoiding his eyes.

"Aw come on. You've been practicing with non-moving objects," Stepping closer to you, he lowered his voice even though you two were the only one there, "If you're worried about hurting me, don't be."

🗡️🪨🍃

With every hit he blocked, he took a step forward forcing you to take a step back.

It was a sort of dance. Your feet mirroring his. At times you moved forward, he moved back. Neither gaining or losing as it was balanced. He matched your pace well.

The intense look of his eyes made you realize that he was learning your fighting style and movements. The moment it clicked to you that you had been using the same movements too. Smart on him but careless on you.

Your spikes and dics clashed with the sharp blade of his swords. Dust filled the air between you two as the rock burst into tiny pieces.

Pushing your arms forward, your discs flew in random directions towards him at rapid speed, more quicker than you had done before. Adrenaline pumping in your veins, you could hear your heart beating in your ears.

He blocked all of them swiftly, with every hit he moved forward closer to you but this time you didn't step back.

The last one he crossed slash it about one meter away from you. Some of the little rocks landed in your hair.

You were mesmerized by him. His chest rising and falling with every breath matching yours. His hair matted on his forehead. That was the end of that session.

For a moment it felt like time stopped. With only the sound of rustling leaves in the atmosphere, you both stared into each other's eyes. Dropping his swords carelessly on the ground beside him, he stepped towards you.

You've never been left alone with him before. This was a new situation you had to adapt to. But he was Jet. You know him to an extent, he was your friend and you were his. So why is your fight or flight reaction kicking in?

Even then, you stayed glued to your spot.

Lifting his hand, Jet brushed his fingers through your hair, cleaning the debris, "That was really good," As his eyes trained on the rocks in your hair, you had a chance to look into his. A proud smile on his face, "I told you, you're getting better."

Returning his smile, you thanked him. Silence followed as you looked to the ground again. The leaf covered earth was interesting to you out of all things. I don't know, like the boy in front of you that's looking at you with furrowed brows. But you didn't notice that because you were looking to the ground! Look up please!

"Is everything okay?" Concern laced his tone, "You're being very quiet around me lately." His voice low with the last sentence.

Raising your head, you now realize he was so close to you. So close that he was stepping into your personal bubble. You didn't move away so this was a welcomed presence.

Mouth falling agape, your mind raced to find an answer that wouldn't make him feel like you're pushing him away. You... wanted him to stay.

"What do you mean?" Crossing your arm across your torso, you tilted your head with the question.

"Well," It was his turn to avoid your eyes, kicking his shoe into the ground, "I saw you laughing with them and joking around but when you're with me you're, well," Once again he looked at you, "Quiet."

"Why?" Something in the air changed. It weighed heavy on you. Your heart beating irregularly as with that one word he stepped forward closer. The gap between you almost became nonexistent until you moved back.

Dead leaves crunched under your shoes until your back met the trunk of a tree. He saw it before you did and smoothly put his hand on the back of your head, cushioning it from hitting the hard bark. The gap now? Extinct.

To allow some control, you put a hand on his chest. That was the only little space you had left. You could push him away and he knew that. He moved no further into you and you didn't move away.

The answer didn't come sooner. Your tongue wouldn't move as you tried to focus on breathing with his chest nearly meeting yours. You felt his fingers at the back of your head slightly clutching your hair. How are you still standing up, you didn't know.

"You don't like me?" There was no place you could look except his demanding eyes. Trapped in your own world, you didn't realize it was sunset. The golden light reflecting in his iris and hair made a golden halo around him.

"I do," Emphasizing the last word, you cringe internally as it sounded desperate, "I do like you," You repeated softer.

A second passed.

"Then what? Do I make you nervous?" He was teasing you, his tone. Testing your limits, he pressed himself more into you. You allowed it, hand still on his chest.

Before it was just a single rose, now you were sure a garden was blooming on your face. Body temperature rising, you had to control your breath through your mouth. The oxygen wasn't getting to your brain fast enough, you felt light headed. You would've fell if it not for his other hand which you didn't noticed held your waist in place.

You seem to have lost your bearings with him. It was dangerous, being put under a spell that was tearing away at your guard.

"I," Almost biting your tongue to utter that one word, you gulped. Can he just stop? But at the same time you didn't want him to. If only you had the brain functions to respond to him properly.

A little chuckle vibrated his chest, you felt it in the palm of your hand. Thankfully he read your mind, because you wanted this as much as he did.

"You're adorable, you know that?" The hand that was pillowing your head came around your face as he cups your cheek. Thumb swiping over it once before he pulled your face meeting his and your lips connected.

It was soft, his lips. The kiss lasted a moment. Sweet and innocent. Your senses bursting into vibrant colors. Bright ribbons swirling all around your closed eyes. You could feel his smile against your lips as he pulled away first, still keeping close to you.

His arm that was on your waist wrapped itself around you, pulled your body to him.

Sensing you were comfortable and alright with it, the shy smile on your face told him all, he pulled you back in again. Back into a shared realm, where your heart beats in synchronized sequence, bodies fitting each other perfectly.

Looping your arms around his neck, your fingers mindlessly played with the ends of his hair. A soft hum emitted from him which made your body react in a way it never did before. The grip on your waist got tighter. You decided you loved hearing that little sound and the way his hands gripped your body.

It was you who pulled away first, him chasing your lips but you stopped him with a hand on his chest yet again. You were breathless. Looking up to his eyes as he was still trained on your lips, but he respected your wishes even though he was also out of air.

"I like you," You managed in between breaths. Smiling as you did as the relief of the invincible wall crumbled down and vanished between the space of you and him in your spiritual mind.

The space was established. Whatever force that was keeping you away from him had dissolved. Only his gravity now pulled you towards him.

He smiled too, loving the way your body melted into his.

"I like you too."

a/n: a little rusty on the writing after 2 years out of practice man.. i hope this is okay

[lymooniee]

Jet set radio art save me please jet set radio art save me please jet set radio art save me please

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Mango (The Surprise, Part 13)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, innuendo, implied sex, periods, mostly just fluff, reader taking care of Emily because our girl deserves it Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Emily comes back from a hard week in the field and you treat her in all the ways you can possibly think of. Because she's baby girl and she deserves to be taken care of.

Week 23: The Mango

In both your personal and professional life, you were a wildly independent person. Self-sufficient, dedicated, proud of the work you did and how hard you’d worked to get where you were. You were nobody’s doormat, nobody’s housekeeper, nobody’s mom.

If anyone else you knew, especially men, asked you to cook for them or do their laundry or take care of them in any way, you would have been personally affronted. You would have said, “You’re a fucking grown-up, do it yourself. I’m not your mom.” And you’d mean it.

So it embarrassed you a bit that, with Emily, you acted like a full-blown ‘50s-style housewife and you loved it. Not all the time, of course. But enough of the time that you couldn’t just brush it off. Dinner on the table when she got home? Your pleasure. Packing her lunch? A joy. Doing the laundry and making sure she always had a second go-bag packed and ready in case there was a quick turnaround on cases? You lived for that shit, especially when you hid little notes in the pockets that said things like:

I love you (so does little mango)!

We miss you! <3!

So proud of you for saving lives and kicking criminal ass! P.S. It’s hot. ;)

The bottom line? You were down bad for Emily. You had been from the moment she’d asked you out and all the years since. But after you’d gotten pregnant, your roles had switched a bit. Emily had always taken care of you well, but in the last few months she'd taken over significantly more of the household tasks since you were often tired and achy. You ordered takeout more often than you cooked (Emily had tried, but after her third time setting off the fire alarm you’d said, “You know what, babe, why don’t we just order out?”).

You missed taking care of Emily. God knows, she wouldn’t let anybody else do it. So when she’d called you from the jet to let you know she was on her way home after a grueling week in the field–made even more grueling by the fact that she was on her period–you set out to treat Emily right. To treat her in all the ways you used to treat her before you got pregnant, in all the ways that Emily deserved to be treated and so rarely let herself be.

You had groceries delivered to make her favorite meal, and when the little Find My dot that was Emily showed up at Quantico and started making its way back to DC, you ran her a bath–water scalding so it’d be nice and hot when she came in, fragrant with lavender Epsom salts. You lit candles, turned the bathroom lights low, even put her favorite hoodie and sweatpants and a fluffy towel in the dryer so they’d be toasty and warm when she got out of the bath.

You started on dinner, playing Emily’s favorite Salah Ragab record on the turntable. The food processor growled as it worked overtime to blend a homemade hummus, complete with your secret ingredient: a splash of aquafaba. You chopped parsley and mint for fattoush, made a marinade for the chicken flavored with all the spices Emily loved so much from her childhood years in Oman and Egypt, sumac and cardamom and coriander and all the others that you ordered online from a specialty Middle Eastern spice seller.

Your oven shawarma wasn’t as good as shawarma from a spit in Cairo, but it was about as close as you could get at home, and Emily loved it. And you made a damn good fattoush and hummus. You sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, whipped together a quick yogurt sauce.

You’d just put the chicken and veggies in the oven and were starting on the cream cheese filling for the stuffed dates when you heard the door open and shut.

“In the kitchen!” you called, hands sticky from slicing the dates.

Emily looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes, her blazer rumpled from a long day of travel. But her face lit up when she saw you.

“Do I smell… shawarma?!” she asked, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your neck, her hands resting protectively over your baby bump.

“Mmhm.” You grinned, feeling Emily’s body melt into yours, the tension in her muscles already dissipating.

“What’s the occasion?” She turned you around, so she could lean her arms on your shoulders, running her fingers through your hair.

You shrugged. “Can’t a girl just want to treat her wife?”

“She sure can.” Emily smiled and leaned in to press her lips softly to yours. You held your hands out at your sides so you wouldn’t be tempted to press them into Emily’s clothes or skin.

Emily pulled away, watching you lovingly as you sliced and mixed and stirred.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked, lowering herself into a chair and wincing slightly.

“In the kitchen!?” You scoffed. “Absolutely not. There’s a bath ready for you, so go relax for a bit.”

Her eyes brightened. “Aw, honey. That’s so sweet of you.” She grabbed your hips again, once again turning you away from the counter so she could press you against it in a hungry kiss.

You giggled and swatted at her with a dish towel. “Go before the water gets cold!”

“Care to join?” she asked suggestively, pulling lightly at the waistband of your shorts.

You smirked, gently grasping her fingers and moving them away. “I have to finish dessert.”

Emily walked toward the bathroom like a scolded puppy, looking back with big eyes. “I can think of something else I’d rather have for dessert,” she commented, eyebrows raised.

You waved her off, blushing furiously. “Get out of here, you dork! Go take your bath!”

“I thought we were treating me tonight!” Emily called from the bathroom.

“That’s an after-dinner treat, honey,” you yelled back. “I’ve got shit to do first.”

“Fine! But I’m gonna hold you to that!”

You shook your head, grinning, as you spooned cream cheese filling into the halved dates, pressing them into a mixture of crushed pistachios and rose petals. God, you loved your wife.

When the dates were plated, the bulgur in the fattoush soaked through, the pita warmed, and the chicken covered in foil and resting on the counter, you washed your hands and went to find Emily, grabbing her comfy clothes and towel from the dryer.

You heart surged when you found her still in the tub, eyes closed, face relaxed. This is what your girl deserved. You leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“You alright, honey?” you asked, trying to squat down next to the tub, but ending up on your knees thanks to the baby.

She hummed in affirmation, keeping her eyes closed. “Thank you so much for this, baby,” she mumbled quietly.

“Anytime, love.” You watched her for a few more minutes, then set the stack of warm clothes on the bathroom counter. “There’s a warm towel and some PJs here for you,” you said, struggling to get to your feet.

“You good?” Emily chuckled, watching you out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes.” When you finally managed to make it to your feet, you had beads of sweat on your forehead. It wasn’t even that your belly was that heavy yet, it was that it threw off your center of gravity and made moving from one position to another awkward. “Get dried off when you're ready,” you told her. “I’ll get dinner on the table.”

You were proud of the spread when you stood and surveyed it. Shawarma chicken straight from the oven, spiced and heavenly-smelling. Warm pita bread and a swirl of smooth, creamy hummus with just a bit of paprika and olive oil on top. A lovely, vibrant fattoush, sliced cucumbers, juicy tomatoes. A little plate of stuffed dates, popping with green and pink from the pistachios and rose petals.

Emily walked in, hair wet around her shoulders, blotching her sweatshirt. You pulled her chair out for her but, before she sat down, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. She smelled like lavender and fresh laundry, and you breathed her in, holding her close.

You could tell by the way she lingered there, by the way she breathed easier with her body pressed against yours, that Emily would need a lot of touch tonight. Not just in a sexual way, though Emily’s sex drive was always through the roof on her period. You could tell that tonight, Emily would let you hold her, that she’d curl herself around you tightly, possessively, as if to cover the most that she possibly could of your surface area.

In other words, she needed comfort. And she didn't get it from anyone else, not really. It had taken her a long time to even ask for it from you, to seek it out. So when she did, you were always more than happy to oblige. More than happy to hold clingy, sweet, needy Emily for as long as she needed.

She whined a bit when you pulled away, and you kissed her cheek, playing with her fingers.

“You’ve got to eat something, love. Then I promise I will not let you go for the rest of the night.”

She sat obediently, squeezing your hand, and piled her plate with all the things you’d made, eyes rolling back in her head when she swiped a finger through the hummus and put it in her mouth.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she gushed. “I swear your hummus tastes just like my friend Zainab’s mom’s from when I lived in Oman.”

“It’s the specialty spices,” you shrugged, taking a bite of pita with shawarma and veggies.

“No, I think it’s the special person making it,” Emily cheesed, beaming at you.

You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, you’re getting it tonight.”

“I certainly hope so.”

When your plates were cleared and the leftovers tucked safely into the fridge, you led Emily to the bedroom, pulling back the covers for her, tucking her in.

“You know these are just gonna get untucked, right?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Shh,” you scolded. “Let me take care of you.”

You crawled into bed next to Emily, drawing her body into yours, holding her gently as you pressed your lips to hers. She melted into the kiss, already breathless.

You brushed her hair out of her face, placing your hand gently on her lower stomach. “How are your cramps?” you asked. “You want any medicine or anything?”

“The only medicine I need is you,” she said, guiding your hand lower.

You chuckled. “Alright, Romeo. Calm down.” You lowered your face to her neck, planting kisses all across her shoulder and collarbone. “I told you I’d take care of you, and I will.”

Emily held your face gently in her hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Why are you so good to me?” she whispered.

You pecked her on the lips. “Because I love you. And you deserve good things.”

And with that, you started your long, slow journey across the topography of Emily’s body, ready and willing to give her every good thing you possibly could.

[kyzielanzxyri]

Behind the sparkling diamonds

Masterlist

Song Kang x M!reader

Wherein: wherein ceo Song Kang is your husband

Warnings: arranged marriage, ceo song kang, crossdressing, potential mature content, trophy male wife

Being the wife of Song Kang was the ultimate status symbol, you had that "je ne sais quoi", you were beautiful, even more beautiful than most girls, you wore the finest clothes, the shiniest jewelry, you were seen at the hottest and most high profile events, you were living a life full of jet setting, expensive bags, and mansions, alongside your husband who was not only one of the richest people but also one the most attractive ones. To the public, you were the "it" couple. To them, you were "perfect"

Atleast thats how people saw you two. You were looking at yourself in the mirror as you took off your jewellery, which you had just used in a dinner with your husband's friends. It was always like that. It's always the same thing, him showing you off to his friends and to the people you met. It was as if you were a trophy, a prize that should be displayed to everyone.

"Don't you ever get tired of this?" You asked him while leaning on the wall as you watched him get ready for bed, "what do you mean?" He replied, "This, this unending cycle of you just showing me off to your colleagues, I mean, did you just marry me to be your trophy wife?" You stared at him, "if I married you just to be my trophy wife, then why would I sleep in the same bed as you for years? Why would I make such an effort just to arrive on time for our dinner every night? If I married you just to be my trophy wife, then why would I love you, care for you?" He said while walking closer to you, caressing your face "Im sorry if I made you feel that way, but be certain that I married you not because of how you look, what you do, or other superficial things like that but i married you because I love you and I will always love you, and that won't ever change" he carried you bridal style and put you on the bed "what are you doing?" You said while chuckling."Im gonna make you feel loved because it seems that you dont feel that, " he said with a smirk on his face. And let's just say you did feel loved that night.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Freud Said We Should Fuck [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left and Right (@shakespearesdaughters) Center (@hotchs-big-hands)

Prompt: When Aaron makes a Freudian slip on the jet, he and the reader get flushed, and later, once the case is finished, the reader finds him in his office on a lonely Saturday and teases him about it. Aka, when the reader and Hotch do something in his office other than paperwork. 

Pairing: Aaron x fem BAU-reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: Fluff/angst/smut 

Word Count: 9.9K 

A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. I’m finally back writing again and I’m so happy about it. However, I feel like it’s going to take me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I had a lot of my AU written and then I just thought it was moving too slow. So I’ve put that on hold for a bit and gone back to what I love smut. I don’t think the sex here is the best I’ve ever written, but I still like it. This idea came about because @silk-spun and I were chatting about Aaron and office sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about it - so naturally I wrote it. Please have a look at the notes before reading as there are some things that some plot points that some readers might want to avoid. I hope you like this and if you do, likes, comments, and replies are appreciated! Content Warnings under the cut. I hope you are having a good week. Love Levi - ❤️

Content Warnings: There are two unsubs mentioned in this fic: The one most talked about is a family annihilator [There are mentions of wives and children being killed, depiction of dead bodies, description of a bloody room,  mention of suicide via gun (unsub)] The second unsub kills at random [There are mentions of poisoning, falling to one’s death and drowning (the body is briefly described)] Mention of past trauma and abuse [Hotch] and the mention of an absent father. There is also sex: touching over the clothes, sex in a semi-public setting [Hotch’s office] fellatio, p in v (unprotected] Very slight dom vibes from the reader and Hotch and the slightest mention of a size kink. If I missed any, please let me know. 

List with all stories 

_y/n_ = your name

_c/t_ = coffee or tea (whichever you prefer) 

_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on height). 

_s/l_ = short or long 

_kl/s/m_ = knee length/short/mini (pick your favorite skirt length)

_y/f/c/s_ = your favorite color and style (bra)

_y/f/t/f_= your favorite type of food

The team sat in the jet as they moved toward Evansville Indiana. The skilled agents were bantering ideas off of each other, as they normally did. This unsub was very blatant with their modus operandi. As Aaron had debriefed in the conference room an hour earlier with the team and Garcia, he said, “The unsub we’re dealing with allegedly has three distinct personalities. Although I would be hesitant to diagnose anyone with a split personality disorder or DID. Many people with this condition are stigmatized due to the negative stereotypes associated with that name. If our unsub does have this condition, then we work from there. But with what we know now, this might just be a part of the ritual and pattern. The police are adamant that it’s a suspect from a mental hospital, but be wary of this. J.J. I want you to cut this off at the bud as soon as we get to the station. The media liaison nodded and replied, “You got it Hotch. I’ll clear that up and make sure they haven’t come up with any nicknames either. That always gets the press in a stir.” Aaron nodded. There wasn’t time for that kind of coverage right now. The team needed to jump in immediately once they touched down. This unsub had a swift turnaround time, killing in heinous and various ways almost every other night. His signature was that at the body of each victim, the unsub left a note from either the Id, the Ego, or the Superego, and by how killing his victims, the unsub had ‘cured them,’ and how the cure had worked. The killer's notes were reminiscent of Freud’s case notes, detailed and a bit deranged. The methods of death had been drowning, poisoning, being drowned, and most recently a fatal fall from a high cliff on a popular walking trail. _y/n_ had cringed at the sight of the drowned victim’s bloated body. It was blue and purple from its extended time in the water. The poisoned victim didn’t look any better. As was usual with BAU cases, the victims had suffered significantly before their deaths. _y/n_ had asked the group as a whole once the note element came out, “Is this guy serious? I mean, Freud is more infamous than famous at this point. His clients were all wealthy Swiss members of society, and he was ridiculed later in life for changing his theories all the time. I mean, how many Fruedians are still honestly out there?” Spencer happily replied, “In terms of clinical, licensed therapists? I’d say very few. Probably around 0.5 percent at this point. But that doesn’t mean that psychoanalysis isn’t still used in a good deal of therapeutic systems. I mean ‘Talk Therapy’ is the norm in most EBT therapy systems. So although Freud and Heidegger might have faded to obscurity, their theories remain.” Hotch had nodded and said stoically, “Wheels up in thirty. We can continue this discussion on the plane. If the unsub sticks to his pattern. They might have a new victim already.” 

Thus the team, plus Penelope were on the plane like normal. Once the jet hit cruising altitude, the team seemed to relax a bit They all fell into their usual clusters, and Hotch observed them. _y/n_, Rossi, and Spencer were continuing the psychological aspect of the case with _y/n_, while Em, Derek, and Garcia talked about the victimology and methods of the murders. Lastly, JJ was writing up a short press brief for the police and the public. Aaron knew we could never be thankful enough for the work that JJ did for the team. She covered their backs more than he could ever imagine. It was hard enough doing the job they did, but having JJ backing them up meant they weren’t smeared in the press even more. Hotch made his way to her. He sat on the seat next to hers and looked over her work. The blond woman handed him a notebook page with her statement from the police force. She said, “This is what I’ve got so far. If you have any more legal or profiler things you’d like me to add, just note them in the margins.” The woman handed him a blue ballpoint pen, and Hotch did his best to look carefully and thoroughly over the short blurb. He added a few police procedural things, but otherwise, it looked good. Aaron pushed the paper back on the small table and said, “Looks good J. I just added a few notes. Let me know when you have the one for the public done, and look it over too.” JJ looked up at him as he stood and said, “You got it Hotch. And I’ll make those corrections after I’m done with this.” Aaron then moved to Em, Morgan, and Garcia. They were looking at a map both on the seat and on Penelope's computer. Derek and Em were pinpointing the sites of the victim's body on the physical map while Garcia did the same on her laptop. The trio was trying to make a geographic profile and also see if the sites were linked to a road, river, or some natural feature. All three victims had been found in parks or locations adjacent to parks. As Hotch looked over the map, Emily said, “Given the natural locations of the dump sites and how well-versed the unsub seems to be with local and national parks in the area, this person may be a game warden or resource officer or something like that. Those positions are often isolating and not well-paid. Maybe the unsub has emotions tied to their work. That they’re not achieving enough, or making enough of an impact?” Hotch nodded at the logic of her statement and said to Garcia, “Once you’ve done that work, Garcia, look up the databases for Park Service workers and Game Wardens and make a preliminary risk. Target those who work in the parks where the victims were found and those that have been having problems at work or have had problems at work in the last two months.” Garcia loved getting directions from Aaron. She always thought that his brain was close to hers, except that he was just the quiet version of her. She smiled and said, “Aye, aye captain. Coming right up.” Aaron gave Garcia a small smile and said, “Thanks Penelope.” 

Aaron got up again. Before he moved to the last group, he was going to get a cup of coffee for himself _c/t_  for _y/n_. It was their ritual on the plane now. When they were in the office, _y/n_ got him coffee from the breakroom, and when they were on the jet, he got her drink. Aaron’s and _y/n_ relationship had moved from a strong friendship to a light romance, to, in the last six months, a much more heated and sexual affair. Of course, neither of them could say, and much less do anything while they were at work but show small gestures of affection for the other. Aaron and _y/n_ were both professional and could easily keep their relationship work-coded. That didn’t however, mean that Hotch didn’t think about the things they did off the clock. The sound of _y/n_’s bright laugh had his mind reeling back to last weekend. It had been a lazy Saturday morning at his place. She had mentioned getting a snack from the coffee shop down the street before going on a walk in the park or going to get a new book for Jack, who was currently at Haley’s. Aaron had sleepily said something like, “I think you’re enough of a snack as it is, _y/n_” as he rolled onto his back.

There was a moment of silence before _y/n_ started softly laughing. Hotch moved his eyes to her. He expected her to stop laughing after a minute, but his gaze only had her laughing more loudly. She was nearly in stitches as her mirth overflowed. Hotch, not quite sure what had caused her to be so joyful,  poked her side and said, “Alright, I give up. What’s so funny? Is my breath bad or something?” Even as Hotch asked, he couldn’t stop himself from starting to laugh too. This was something unique with _y/n_. She allowed him to open up emotionally in ways that he rarely even had. After _y/n_ had caught her breath she said, “Is that your attempt at dirty talk Hotch? If so you need to take a course.” Aaron scoffed at that and said teasingly, “I’ll make you eat those words _y/n_.” As he finished that sentence, he leaned over her and kissed her. He started lightly but became more intense as _y/n_ ran her tongue over his bottom lip. Soon enough, he was undoing the buttons of her night shift and moving his mouth lazily downward with _y/n_ saying his name breathily every time he nipped her skin lightly with his mouth. His breath was hot on the cool expanse of her body. Aaron realized as he started to make the encounter more intimate and relished in how her body responded to his.

Hotch knew that apart from being with _y/n_, he was about as closed off as human could be, and he knew it. His past as a child had inherently shown him that weakness meant pain and suffering and as hard as he had tried to grow out of that, he still had some of those mental barriers up, and they often rose when he was in situations that dealt with lots of emotions. Often he found himself unable to reciprocate. That was part of the reason that he assumed that he was so good at being a prosecutor and a profiler. People’s emotions, whether they be the unsub’s or the victim’s didn’t cause him to bluster, or lose sight of the bigger picture. He was sympathetic to the victims and listened to them with sincerity, but their pain often didn’t affect him the way it did _y/n_. This was the reason that after he spoke to the various victims, he would direct them over to _y/n_ to talk further. So they could cry unabashedly and have someone to hold them tight as they did so. Often Aaron would catch her eyes as they made the silent trade-off. There was always a silent conversation that happened in these looks. It was Aaron saying, ‘Thank you,’ and _y/n_ responded, ‘I got you.’ With time Aaron had slowly started dropping those barriers with _y/n_. She made him feel more human. More intact with his emotions such as joy and the ability to do the unexpected. Things and emotions which he had hidden inside himself a long time ago. The first time that Aaron had been very open to _y/n_ was the first time that he realized that he might have deeper feelings for _y/n_ than respect or camaraderie. 

It had been a difficult case. One of the worst. The unsub had been a family annihilator. The man, Mr. Platheville, was targeting young families with only one child. The madman had killed two mothers and their children leaving the fathers to watch in horror and live with the site of the massacre they had witnessed. The first man they had found was shell-shocked and unable to move. An ambulance and mental health experts had been called for him. The next man had been so angry that Hotch and Derek had to hold the man back from hitting and punching himself or the wall or anyone within striking distance. _y/n_ had watched on with apprehension, trying to calm the man down with her words. Although those two cases had been horrible, it was nothing compared to the last. The unsub had called and said where he was and that he had another family hostage. There were audible screams on the other side of the phone. Mr. Plathville had said, “Come quickly. Please. I can’t stop myself anymore.” At first, the team felt like this was a good step. A great step even. The man was giving himself up and asking for help. However, as the tapped line was about to be disconnected, a child’s voice cut in. It sounded scared and small as it said, “Daddy? What’s wrong with Mommy?” That had the whole team freeze. The realization that Plathville had his own family captive now had the team feel like the floor was dropping out from under them -- everyone’s stomach sinking into knots. Hotch dropped the phone first and softly said, “Everyone, move, now.” After a second, he found his voice and said loudly, authoritatively, “Move. Now.” Aaron started running to the van, and he watched as his team followed him to both his car and the other SUV. _y/n_ and Rossi piled into Hotch’s car and hurriedly buckled as Hotch hit the gas pedal. The rubber tires squealed and burned on the concrete. _y/n_ had snatched the passenger seat in the front. Hotch’s jaw was set in a tight grimace as he sped down the road. His driving was close to erratic. It wasn’t something _y/n_ had seen in him before. _y/n_’s eyes found Rossi’s in the review mirror. The older man also looked a bit concerned as well. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on Aaron’s upper arm. She could feel the muscle tight under his sleeve as his hands gripped the wheel. At her touch, Hotch’s eyes briefly left the road and met hers. Whatever expression she had on her face was enough to slow his driving speed. For him to pay closer attention to the road. 

Hotch was making her nervous. He didn’t seem like himself, but she didn’t say anything. There would be time for that later. The vans came to a raging halt outside the address that Plathville had disclosed. The house seemed quiet. Eerily so. Derek and Hotch approached the door softly. Derek breached the door and the team rushed inside. The front foyer was dark and there was no sound reverberating around the open area. The team fanned out in the ranch-style house. Derek and Spencer moved to the left side of the house toward the kitchen and guest bedroom. Rossi and Emily took the upstairs, and Hotch and _y/n_ moved left toward the living room and master bedroom. The other families had been found in the living room, and _y/n_ braced herself for a similar scene. Hotch’s shoulders tensed as he moved into the entryway of the living room. It meant that this family was already dead too. _y/n_ felt a part of her break inside, but she pulled the pieces back together for the team. For those who had passed. Both agents stepped into the room. The fact that the walls, carpet, and sofa were cream-colored only highlighted the dark splatters marring the walls, couch, and carpet which was soaked with a dark stain. _y/n_ pointed to the light switch and mouthed, “Should I turn it on?” Hotch nodded his head no and inclined this head toward the bedroom door, indicating that Mr. Plathville might still be in the bedroom. It was the only space they hadn’t breached. If Plathville was still in the house either alive or dead, it was in that room. As the calls of Spencer and Emily echoed through the house stating, “Clear,”  a small sound came from behind the closed door. Both agents' eyes snapped to the door, and they moved forward. Once they got to the door. Aaron held out a hand to stop her. He shook his head no. He leaned forward and whispered, “Go look at the bodies. And then stop the rest of the team from entering the living room.” _y/n_ met his dark eyes. They seemed to go on forever. He had the look he had before when the child had spoken on the phone. The same look he had had in the car. _y/n_ desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head, but again, now wasn’t the time. _y/n_ nodded and moved back from the door. She moved to the two bodies on the floor but continued to watch as Aaron opened the door, stepped inside, and said, “Mr. Plathville. Don’t do this. Do you think this is the ending your wife and daughter would have wanted for you?” Hotch closed the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Hotch could hear soft movement from the other side of the door. It was _y/n_ and it sounded like she was crying. Aaron pushed aside the soft sounds and focused only on Plathville. The cold metal weapon the unsub was holding in his dominant hand wasn’t pointed in any direction, but it could be in an instant. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ in the room. Because Aaron knew family annihilators, he knew them because he lived with one of them as a child. As an adult, once he learned the proper terms for killers and sadists, he realized that if he hadn’t taken the brunt of what his father doled out, his own father might have been a Plathville as well. Aaron didn’t want _y/n_ to see what might happen. He didn’t want her to see this. Hotch put up his hands and said, “Put down the gun Mr. Plathville. You’ve been a coward with how you’ve treated others because they didn’t do what you liked. Don’t be a coward now, at the end. Face what you’ve done and prove that you’re actually a man.” 

The unsub, eyes dark and glazed looked like he was about to set the gun on the bed. Aaron hoped that was what he was doing, but he didn’t trust the man either. Just as the gun seemed to be safe, Plathville turned the weapon on himself. Outside the closed door, _y/n_ heard a very loud bang. A deafening sound. At this point, _y/n was standing by the hallway with Derek. Em, and Rossi. She was doing her best to keep the three other agents at bay. When the BAU team heard the gunshot, they all rushed back into the room. Derek drew his sidearm as they all did and breached the door. _y/n_’s heart pounded in her chest because she had left him alone. Alone with an unsub who they knew had a gun; and if Aaron was dead, she would never be able to forgive herself. Not for all time. As the team rushed into the room. Hotch’s strong profile stood out against the window. His nose and jawline were distinct against the streetlight that seeped light into the room through the casement window. Aaron seemed frozen on the spot and the still and bloodied body of Mr. Plathville was slumped on the bed. _y/n_ moved forward and avoided her gaze from the new body. She took Aaron’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Not just the room but the house as well. She sensed that he needed the space away from the darkness emanating from the home. The graveyard. 

When they were at the side of the house opposite the bedroom, _y/n_ stopped. She looked down at his shoes, they had blood splatters on the toe. She looked _u/sf/d_ at him. His face was also splattered with blood. _y/n_ reached over, pulling the cuff of her white sleeve over her palm; she started wiping away the viscous red fluid from his sharp facial features. _y/n_ reflected for a moment on how attractive Aaron really was, with his stoicism and strong jaw, and how terrible a time it was for such thoughts to surface. _y/n_ pushed them away as Hotch seemed to come to himself, as she moved her hand to the other side of his face. The blood smears here were larger. There was other matter that _y/n_ would rather not speculate on. Aaron’s left hand raised and pushed her own dirtied sleeve away from his face. Hotch seemed to take a small breath, and he looked like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. _y/n_ wondered if it was his showing emotion out in the open that he perceived as being bad. She looked back at him before he seemingly crumpled into _y/n_’s arms. Low sobs reverberated on her shoulder. Tears staining _y/n_’s already soiled shirt. _y/n_ was grateful the police cruisers were on the other side of the house. Parked on the gravel drive. _y/n_knew that they would have to move soon or else the team would come looking for them. She was sure Hotch would not want to be found in such a compromised state.

_y/n_ didn’t know what else to say than, “I’m sorry Hotch. I know it’s sick and fucked up, but at least there’s no one else he can hurt. Not even himself.” And it was true. It burned _y/n_ that Mr. Plathville would face no consequences for his crimes of passion, but when an unsub took the end into their own hands, there was a certain finality to the matter. There would be fewer interviews and less press. There wouldn’t be a trial or the need for written testimony from everyone involved. It felt like a twisted prize for a game no one had asked to play. After a moment, Aaron replied softly, “It’s not that. Or it is that and some other stuff. I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m sorry.” _y/n_ frowned and pulled away a bit. Hotch looked at her with eyes asking, begging for her to stay. She took his right hand which was hanging limply at his side and said, “Let’s just walk down the drive and back. It will give you a moment to compose yourself. Get your thoughts in order. “Aaron seemed to hesitate and said, “But the police… the team, they might.” _y/n_ cut him off gently saying, “They can wait. The cops have plenty of people to interview and material to bag and tag. They can wait while we take a five-minute walk. 

_y/n_ found that walking got people talking. Particularly if the people were not wanting to open up. The movement and change of scenery seemed to give whomever she was walking with a breather and a chance to let out some thoughts if they wanted. If they didn’t, then at least they’d both gotten some fresh air. This technique had worked with Morgan, JJ, and Em. I had not worked with Spencer, but Spencer spoke so freely all the time that if he had something he didn’t want to share, then he didn’t want to share, and she understood that. This was the first time she was trying this method on Aaron. As they made it halfway up the drive, and not so much to her shock, Hotch let out a sigh and said, “It was Jack’s birthday yesterday…” _y/n_ looked over to him briefly. His eyes were on the ground, Glued to it. She knew that wasn’t the whole issue, but _y/n_ replied, “I’m sorry you had to miss that for this mess.”

They kept walking. and Aaron let out another breath and continued, “When I see people like Plathville, I see my father. I see a bit of myself in him as well.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and turned to look at him, walking backward, matching his pace. She didn’t know a lot about Hotch’s father apart from the fact that he was dead and had hurt Aaron very badly. Perhaps she could see a correlation there between the unsub and Hotchner Sr., but she couldn’t see how Hotch was at all like either man. She asked for clarity saying, “What do you mean? I don’t see how you’re like either of those monsters. You’re tied to your father by blood, but he’s gone.” Aaron looked at her and then back down the dark path they were on. A lone streetlamp shone at the end of the road. They reached it and turned back before Aaron said, “It’s a pattern. They were both absent fathers. They both lashed out at things and people. And look at me. I hardly see Jack. It feels like once in a blue moon. And I might not be lashing out at people because my job takes out that stress. But look at me in the office, I’m still anal about things. I just see these patterns. I don’t want to fail as a father, and I feel like I am.” And there it was. There was the crux of his emotions and _y/n_ ached for his pain, for his fear, even if it seemed unfounded to her. It certainly wasn’t unfounded to him, and she’d never say that. As they moved back toward the house. _y/n_ was wording and rewording her response again and again in her head; she couldn’t quite seem to come up with the perfect response. It all sounded too close to “I love you and other people love you too, can’t you see that?” She felt the hairs picked up on the back of her neck and she looked over to Aaron. He was staring at her, Asking for some kind of reply. They were near the house again and she stopped, and he stopped too. Now _y/n_ gave a sigh, her breath making a little cloud in front of her face. She finally replied, “Aaron, I don’t know what this is going to sound like to you, but here it is. I think you’re tired. I haven’t seen you sleep in three days straight because this case is so close to you. It’s close because it involves a group of people who can’t protect themselves, or their children. And I think in some ways after Haley filed, you think that you can’t protect her or Jack either. But Aaron, you’ve handled everything there with as much grace and compassion as you could. You did what Haley wanted and you still try and look after them. And maybe you don’t see Jack as often as you like, but you try. I hear you call him at night when the team’s away. And the stories you tell about when he spends the weekends over make it sound like you don’t just shower him with gifts or love bomb him. You’re trying to have a relationship with him. And I never hear you badmouth Haley, ever, which means your son can know that not all relationships work out but there can still be a kind of love and respect. A lot of kids don’t get that.” _y/n_ took a breath and she saw in his eyes that he was coming more to himself, as she finished stating, “And about you being like your father, yeah, genes are passed down, but I don’t believe that people are born bad. I think something bad happens to them and you either continue the cycle or break it. And you’re far too kind of a person, even if you don’t show it, to keep doing what you’re father did. You’d never do those things to another person. You’re not him Hotch. You never will be.”

_y/n_ looked at him to see what his reaction to her words would be. Aaron looked like he might cry again, but was holding back those emotions. She hoped she hadn’t overstepped some emotional or professional line, but she didn’t have time to ask as Hotch stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. His warm body enveloped her in the cold night. His breath fanned the _s/l_ hair at the nape of her neck. He whispered, “Thank you for that, _y/n_. I needed to hear that.” When Aaron pulled back, he was himself again. He nodded and motioned his head toward the house. As he attempted to move forward, _y/n_ grabbed his coat sleeve, and he looked at her confused. _y/n_ said, “Wipe the left side of your face Hotch. It’s still bloody.” Aaron rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. They both started walking back to the house, and he wiped off his face. As they walked back, there was an understanding that something deeper had happened between them. As Aaron moved past the cruisers with red and blue lights still flashing,  he raised the caution tape for _y/n_, and as she stepped under it. Aaron looked at her and felt a warmth seep through him. It bit through the cold outside, and he didn’t mind it. 

Aaron pulled his mind out of the haze that was focused on the sounds that _y/n_ had made last Saturday morning. Her moans and whimpers rang in his ears for a second longer. He was thankfully snapped back to the interior of the jet as a bit of turbulence rocked the aircraft. Aaron cleared his throat and moved to the coffee maker. He made himself a cup of black coffee first. He shot a prayer up to any possible deity up there that his body and mind had not synced enough for him to be aroused by his mind's inappropriate wandering. Having to hide an erection wasn’t his idea of a fun time. It had happened once or twice before and he had to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face and neck. When Hotch’s cup was done, he moved another clean styrofoam cup under the dispenser and started making _y/n_’s _t/c_. He stifled a yawn. He had spent much of the last two days working on field reports and revising the FBI’s security training. It was woefully behind the times. He had coordinated with Penelope and as helpful as Garcia was in terms of the technological aspects of cyber security, the lingo and Pen’s energy had worn him out a bit. The Keurig beeped, indicating _y/n_’s drink was done. He doctored the beverage as she liked. Aaron half blamed his wandering mind on his lack of sleep and the case. Spencer’s clear voice cut through all the others and he was talking about the more interesting sexual elements of Freud’s theories including the more lurid Oedipus and Xena complexes. Reid was going on about how the notes from the unsub seemed to really dive into those theories even though there was no sexual aspect to the case yet. Hotch grabbed _y/n_’s cup and moved back to the final group he had not spoken with yet. 

He sat next to _y/n_ and handed her her cup. _y/n_ looked at Hotch and gave him a small smile before taking a sip of her drink. _y/n_ had a random thought, as she mulled over the bizarre nature of the case. She said aloud, “What do you think Freud would think about people using his theories like this? I mean he was odd and problematic, but not that odd.” Aaron had his eyes closed, and he replied without even thinking said, “I think Freud would say we should fuck.” _y/n_ nearly spat out her drink. The liquid burned her throat as it went down. Hotch caught his mistake and flushed, quickly amending his statement saying, “I mean if Freud were still here, he would probably think the unsub would want to have intercourse with his victims. It could either be latent sexual attraction or transference of sexual desire for an authority figure like a parent or teacher. An attraction that shouldn’t be acted out.” Hotch could feel his ears burning, and he hid his face by taking a long drink of his coffee. The dark liquid burned his mouth but this pain was better than having to face to look of utter shock of his friends. Thankfully the awkwardness only lasted a second longer as Spencer picked up on his hurried line of thinking saying, “You could be right. This unsub might be impotent and killing as a means of sexual release. Or they could be killing as a displacement tactic for unwanted feelings.” Reid jumped into that conversation with a fervor and _y/n_ added her thoughts in too along with taking some notes on the comments Spence made.

Although Spencer didn’t choose to comment on what Hotch had said, when the Unit Chief looked over at Rossi, his friend had an eyebrow raised and an expression that said, “Really, Aaron?” Hotch closed his eyes, sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyelids as if saying, “I’m tired. Alright?” When Aaron opened his eyes again, Rossi just gave a little shrug as if saying, “Hey. I have three ex-wives. I’m not one to judge.” The older man ever so slightly looked over to _y/n_ and gave a small smile. The team knew that Hotch was seeing _y/n_. They were all too perceptive not to tell. But what he had just said was more personal than the team needed to know. At least not yet. Aaron liked keeping his private life private, and he would have to apologize to _y/n_ for putting their personal business out there like that. He was just thankful that he had made that slip of the tongue in front of Spencer and Dave and not Morgan and Garcia. There would be no end to the gossip if that had been the case. Aaron sat back in his seat and did his best to put back on the Unit Chief facade. One great thing was that he was able to compartmentalize his emotions and what had just happened was just a blunder. He fell easily back into the conversation and made himself useful to the team. 

The case was a wild one with the team being kept on their feet, as the unsub devolved into crazier and more complex kills. Thankfully the unsub, one Kathy Kittery got sloppy as her mind crumbled under the weight of her own brain. Thus, only one other victim was lost, the others, though traumatized would make it through the ordeal. Ms. Kittery was a therapist who had had her license revoked after having an affair with a client. Once she had taken that blow, she had moved to a second career that had always interested her. Being a Ranger in a State Park. However, as it turned out, the mental isolation did not help with her already troubled state and she had slipped into acting on her delusions, thus the need for the team to come in the first place. After the unsub had been arrested, the team, as normal, was assured that she wouldn’t be seeing freedom for a good long while. On the jet home, Aaron’s sexual comment was almost forgotten by everyone, including himself, but _y/n_ remembered and as she closed her eyes to sleep on the short flight back, her brain played out certain scenarios that she also wouldn’t want to be voiced in front of the others. When the jet touched down, the team disembarked and _y/n_ asked Aaron as they walked back to the main office, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday and she hoped that they could spend the day together or with Jack if he was staying over at Hotch’s that weekend. It felt like a while since they had had a good day to themselves. Work had piled up, and she longed for just a few solid hours with Aaron. Hotch, however, didn’t seem to pick up on her tone as he was tired. He replied in a monotone, “Probably filling out paperwork in the office I’m behind on like three cases worth and this makes a fourth.” _y/n_ pouted slightly. She knew she was being silly, but sometimes Aaron needed a break for his own good, and an idea started brewing in the back of her mind. If she had the nerve to do even half of what her head was cooking up, she would have done something she had been imagining for a long time. Longer than was appropriate probably. For the moment she just said, “Mhm. Sounds productive.” Hotch scoffed as they both entered the sliding glass door. Even he knew his life, and particularly weekends sounded miserable sometimes. After all, he was the one that put him through them. 

The next afternoon, _y/n_ pulled up to the Quantico field office. She parked her car next to Aaron’s and set her employee parking pass on the dash so it could be seen by security.  _y/n_ chuckled remembering the one time that Derek had forgotten his pass and had his Corvette towed on a Saturday. Her athletic friend had been so flustered, saying, “Oh come on! I work at the freaking FBI you’d think there would be some camera’s in this lot and they’d know I work here!” _y/n_ had laughed, patted his shoulder, and offered him a ride to the impound lot to pick up his flashy car. As _y/n_ moved through the mostly empty lot she smiled. Not that she expected there to be a lot of people at the office on a Saturday afternoon, but it boded well for what she had in mind. As entered the office and was waived through security quickly, she hadn’t brought her gun or anything important with her. She entered the bullpen and looked up at Hotch’s office. His lights were on and she could see him looking at something on his desk. It was most likely a field report. The bullpen was empty and most of the lamps on the desks were off. One or two burned brightly in the soft space. One or two of the agents must have forgotten to turn them off in the rush to get home on Friday. She turned off the lamps as she texted Aaron, “Hey, you at the office?” She looked up at his office window and his head turned to the side. Clearly, he had just received her message. His left hand raised and a second later her phone beeped. Hotch had sent back a simple “Yes.” He was never one to be overly elaborate over text. If he was forced to type more than one full paragraph he would just give up and call instead. _y/n_ always chalked it up to his hands being too big for the small phone screen. He probably made a lot of accidental typos with his thumbs and had to go back and correct them which seemed like a thing that would annoy him to no end, even if he did have autocorrect on his phone. _y/n_ took a breath as she looked at Aaron again. He was back to his paper. _y/n_ had jokingly said she would do this if the spirit led her, but somehow seemed like the dirty things she was picturing in her head were driving her up the stairs and not ‘the spirit.’ Outside Hotch’s door, she knocked once and then turned the knob. She stepped into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind her. She softly said, “Hey Hotch, how are the papers going?” Aaron looked up from his desk. He did a bit of a double take as his eyes flicked to his phone and then back to her. His eyes held a hint of surprise, warmth, and general confusion as he said, “_y/n_. What are you doing here? Do you need something?” _y/n_ couldn’t help but flush already. Hotch was just too cute sometimes; especially when he wasn’t trying.

_y/n_ smiled at him and took a seat across from him at his desk. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I was just bored I guess. I had nothing better to do, so why not give you a hand with your paperwork? Maybe I can get you out of here earlier than five p.m. on a Saturday?” Aaron raised a brow. He highly doubted that that was _y/n_’s only reason for being here, but he wouldn’t question her. Instead, he picked up a case file, and set it in front of her saying, “Suit yourself, love.” _y/n_ flushed again and pulled one of Aaron’s ballpoint pens out of the cup he kept a stash in. _y/n_ wondered how many pens he dried up per year, but wasn’t in the mood for calculus problems right now. Instead, she opened the file and started working on the first page. She had to take it for at least ten minutes before she made a move. _y/n_ assumed if she outright said, “Hey wanna have sex in your office there would be two simultaneous outcomes. The first was that she would no longer be Aaron Hotchner’s partner and that she would be a former FBI Behavioral Analyst. Neither of which sounded very appealing. So she took her time. 

When Aaron seemed absorbed in his work again, she slipped off her shoe and moved her foot across the space between her side of the desk and his. It was a bit of a reach, but she managed to brush Aaron’s ankle and the inside of his trouser leg. That did it and Aaron’s eyes snapped to hers. They were dark, hiding emotions that he often kept at bay. He cleared his throat and said, “_y/n_, really?” You chuckled and said, “Sorry. I just like to see you flustered.” _y/n_ pulled her leg back and Aaron watched as she flushed but returned to her papers. _y/n_ knew he liked it when she was a tease sometimes and that was her plan for this potentially risky act she was trying to have with Hotch. After another ten minutes, _y/n_ repeated the same action, except this time she moved her foot higher up his leg She applied gentle pressure to the inside of his leg. His grey trousers were cool under her foot as they moved up past the knee and onto his inner thigh. Her dark stockings were the only barrier between her skin and the fabric of his pants. _y/n_ looked up at him and he let out a soft breath as if his brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet. When the two entities of mind of body did collide his brows furrowed trying to reconcile the pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that this shouldn’t be happening in his office.

Before he could make any protestation, _y/n_ cut him off saying, “So, ‘Freud said we should fuck’ did he?” This reminder of his slip of the tongue gagged Aaron momentarily. It gave _y/n_ enough time to shift lower in her chair and slip her foot high enough to press over his crotch. Aaron let out a little grunt at the contact. _y/n_ continued to run her foot over his zipper, up and down in a rhythmic pattern. _y/n_ smiled as his eyes grew hazy with desire. A look she’d seen on him often, just not in his office. Never in his office. But she had dreamed about it plenty. She’d woken soaked on occasions with the notion of Aaron having her in his office, blinds drawn tight as they made love in the enclosed space. Aaron stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence, but his cock slowly hardening in his pants was not helping him at all. _y/n_ could feel it under her foot and continued to tease him saying, “You know you really shouldn’t make comments about our sex lives in front of a team of profilers. I think you owe me an apology?” _y/n_ pulled her foot away and Aaron groaned at the loss of contact, but suddenly his mind was more clear. Half of Aaron’s brain cursed _y/n_ for knowing just the right way to turn him on. The other half was already imagining her splayed out on his desk as he ate her out, or pounded into her so hard that the desk left marks on her hips. Those thoughts alone had his member twitch against his belt and fly. To consumed in his thoughts, Aaron slipped off his own left shoe, and perhaps more gently than _y/n_ had, he moved his foot up her leg and to her cunt. _y/n_ opened her legs for him slightly pushing her _kl/s/m_ length skirt up a bit. Even wearing socks, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was wet. The moan she made as he just brushed over her sex and him realize that he couldn’t wait. That he needed her, now. Hotch took away his foot and reveled in the needy noise _y/n_ also made at the lack of contact. Hotch moved quickly to his door, locking it from the inside before closing the shades to the office. His movements were hasty, jerky even. _y/n_ watched him, knowing the sexual tension must have built up since the last time they had been intimate. 

_y/n_ wasn’t sure what Aaron had in mind but she did have to ask, “There aren’t any hidden cameras in here, right?” Hotch chuckled, the sound was throaty, and he replied, “Not that I know of. And if they are, then at least we’ll both be fired.” _y/n_ laughed at this and took his hand; she led him back to his office chair. _y/n_ appreciated that he had a sense of humor in these moments that were new to him. _y/n_ knew that she pushed him to do things he hadn’t before both in and out of the bedroom, but he never complained and the bulge in his pants told her that he was already looking forward to what she was about to do for him. Aaron looked up at her a bit amazed at the things she could make him do. Never in his life had he thought he would be able to act out his fantasy. _y/n_ leaned down and kissed him softly at first and then with more hunger and ferocity. Aaron reciprocated in turn. As their lips looked in a passionate heated kiss, _y/n_ moved her hands to the belt that kept his trousers in place over his trim hips. It wasn’t as hard as _y/n_ had imagined taking off his belt without looking. The cool metal of the clasp heated against your skin. You moved to his pant’s button and zipper next. _y/n_ didn’t want to wait around anymore and once his grey briefs and thick arousal were freed, _y/n_ started palming his erection with a steady hand. Once her hand started stroking him, Aaron let out a gasp. He opened his mouth enough for her to slip her tongue into his mouth. He breathed in her throat and had her make a small contented noise as she explored the well-known concaves of his mouth. _y/n_ would never consider herself a sex expert, but when it came to new positions or scenarios with intimacy and Hotch, she often found it helpful if she took the lead. Warming him up to the idea. Making him feel comfortable and safe before they kept doing whatever it was they were trying. Oftentimes Aaron would jump on board and take the reigns, which she adored. She loved it when he told her what to do, how to lie. Everything. It was one of Aaron’s most attractive traits.

_y/n_ pulled her mouth away from his and wrapped her hand around his cock, more steadily pumping his length. Aaron said her name as he started moving his hips to meet her pace. His body responded to her touch. _y/n_ smiled at him and moved away for a moment, pushing his chair back enough for her to kneel under his desk. Aaron pushed his hips up and let _y/n_ pull his pants down, exposing his cock to the cold air. Hotch took a few steadying breaths. He knew what was to come, _y/n_ gave some of the best head that he had ever had and the anticipation of her lips on her member had him panting already. He said, “Can you not kneel all the way down like that, love? I want to touch you while you’re dining me?” _y/n_ smiled, relishing the fact that he was already taking a small amount of control of the situation. She nodded and said, “Of course Aaron, anything you ask.” With his request in mind, _y/n_ got up on her knees. It was helpful because she needed the reach to be able to lean over and take his tip in her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the top and slit, sucking at it like some rare candy. Hotch groaned as she moved her head down his length slightly. _y/n_  took in his width and length with surprising ease. He was always surprised by her ability to take him. It only made her more attractive to him. As his head swam with pleasure and endorphins, he moved his own body forward and down a little. His head almost rested on her shoulder as he moved his long arm to feel between her legs and upper thighs. He slid his hand down and over between her skirt. As he started rubbing her clothed sex, _y/n_ moaned over his cock. She took a second before she kept moving her head further down him. Her mouth and tongue doing things to him that almost made him see stars. His left hand kept massaging her wet, clothed folds while his right pushed up her shift and kneaded her breasts in turn over her _y/f/c/a/s_ bra. Aaron could feel her nipples grow rigid under her bra and he moved his hand under the intimate article of clothing that covered her chest. He squeezed her right breast and squeezed her nipple. As _y/n_ started moving her head up and down his whole length, Aaron matched her pace with his hand on her clit, pushing and pulling sensations out of her. It turned out Hotch was so aroused, so excited that he kept moving his hand faster over her sex and clit, and _y/n_ kept up her own pace. Aaron panted and tipped his head back as he released some precome and she moved off him sucking it off of him. As she moved to take him in her mouth again, Aaron stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. _y/n_’s mind and body were also hazy with desire. Her entrance ached to be filled by Hotch more fully. His hand was amazing, but nothing beat him seating himself in her fully and then fucking her to the heavens. 

Aaron could see this desire in her. A desire for him alone. Aaron pulled her onto shaky feet. He stood as well. He kissed her again, the beginning of stubble running over her chin and jaw. He pushed his pants and briefs fully off his legs and undid the side zipper of her skirt. He let it fall onto the beige carpet. He pulled back from her mouth and slipped his hands at the elastic of her stockings. He was too impatient to pull them down gingerly. Instead, he used just a bit of his strength to rip them down the center seam. _y/n_ let out an exhalation of breath. She knew it was going to get good now. Not that it hadn’t been good before, but she knew that it could get even better than his thumb and middle finger rubbing against her sex and clit. Aaron looked at her panties and noticed how they matched her bra. He murmured, “You had this all planned, didn’t you, you little devil?” _y/n_ gave him a wink and said, “Maybe just a little. You mad about it?” Hotch let out a little throaty growl and slipped his fingers under the band of her underwear. When they were on the floor, he moved to the desk. He pushed his files to the side along with the batch that _y/n_ had been working so diligently on a few minutes ago. He might desperately want to bend her over his desk, but he wasn’t so stupid to waste three good hours of work by having his files fly all over the place while he fucked _y/n_.

Once the forms were safely on the other side of the desk, Aaron grabbed her hips, turned her body 180 degrees, and then pressed her upper body flush to the hard dark wood of his desk. Hotch had unbuttoned her shirt and her skin felt cool against Hotch’s desk. She anticipated Aaron’s next move as he moved behind her slowly. Hotch pumped his throbbing length once or twice to ready himself. Another bead of precum moved to his tip and he wet his member with it. Even if he was ready and _y/n_ was ready, some of her wetness was even dripping down her thigh, Hotch was going to tease her still, as she had teased him. Aaron moved right next to her and slid his cock up and down her entrance, slightly pressing at the space that was begging for him. Aaron used his left hand to stroke over her weeping sex and _y/n_ moaned saying, “A-aron. Please. Please fuck me. Oh god.” Aaron looked at his length now coated in his and _y/n_’s excitement. It didn’t take more than her words for him to press himself into her fully with a measured thrust. _y/n_ let her out a breath and Hotch could feel her body press into the side of the desk. Aaron pulled out and pressed in again. _y/n_ let out a whimper and there was a slight squelching sound and he began to move in and out of her more quickly. Aaron's thick cock filled her fully and Hotch watched as he pushed in and out of her building his speed. The veins of his length ribbed her insides and _y/n_ almost let her feet go from under her, the desk and Aaron holding up her weight as he kept pressing into her with a relentless pace. _y/n_ could feel him fill her fully, pressing his whole member deep inside her. Aaron knew just how to move his hips to hit her sweet spot and she was panting and babbling in under a minute. Aaron moved one hand to her mouth whispering, “Shhh, now. We wouldn’t want to get caught, now would we?” _y/n_ wanted to protest and say, ‘You know no one is out there, Hotch,’ but her head was so full of lust, desire, and longing to let go. Aaron’s movements had her desire building and she knew Aaron could feel it too. Hotch picked up the pace, rapidly thrusting into her. He moved his left hand to her clit and let go of her mouth so she could let out a litany of sounds. As he kept his fast pace and circled her clit, her body pushed roughly against his desk with every thrust, she whimpered, “I...I’m gonna come, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and leaned down so his chest was flush with her back. His hand on her outer erogenous zone moved quickly and _y/n_’s walls fluttered and then contracted against his cock. _y/n_ cried out and let go of everything, letting the pure bliss of her orgasm overcome her. The sounds of her release had Aaron climax as well. He groaned as he pushed into her a few more times as he let his spent his ejaculation into her. Their shared sounds of pleasure filled the room and Aaron considered how this was better than he could have ever imagined. _y/n_ though spent, felt the same way. 

Hotch took a moment to catch his breath and after a minute he let out a contented sigh. He pulled out of _y/n_ gently. As _y/n_ similarly let out a hum of happiness. She loved the way he was so gentle with her at the end of their intimate encounters. Aaron helped her stand and led her to the couch at the side of the room. Neither exactly felt like saying anything in the soft afterglow of their shared experience. Aaron had her sit on the couch and pulled moved back to his desk. He opened the left drawer and pulled out a pocket square that he rarely wore. He found the linen handkerchiefs too formal and stuffy. And as someone who came off as formal and stuffy already, he didn’t need a fashion accessory to add to the impression. But now, the fabric would come in handy. Aaron walked back to the couch with the confidence of a man who had performed very well. _y/n_ would have laughed at his cockiness if he wasn’t so damn good at sex. The first they had done it, she was so tight that it would have hurt if he hadn’t helped prep her very well. Now he fit her perfectly and he knew it.

She smiled lazily at him as he knelt down and gently cleaned her up. He loved her, but if his or her release started staging his furniture, it might lead to awkward conversations later. When he was done cleaning her body, he wiped himself. He raised his head and said, “Was that everything you wanted darling? You did very well by the way. You felt so good for me. I hope I was the same for you?” _y/n_ beamed and said, “It was everything I wanted and more. Thanks for indulging me. Aar. But I do think you should get out of this office. Being cramped up in here isn’t good for you mentally, sexually, or physically. So what do you say we get out of here and get an early dinner and watch a Christmas movie at my place, huh?” Aaron chuckled and folded the soiled handkerchief to the clean side facing out. He put it in his pocket and smoothed down his now very crumpled shirt. He grabbed his pants and underwear along with _y/n_’s skirt and panties. He tossed them over to her and they both changed. As Aaron zipped up his pants, he said, “Sounds like I good plan. These papers can wait till Monday morning.” Somehow _y/n_ always seemed to know what he needed, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it now. Not after what they’d just done. As _y/n_ put her clothes back on, he paced his briefcase and packed _y/n_’s ripped tights inside with his other work. He wouldn’t just throw those away in the trash by the door. As he did this, _y/n_ moved behind him and gave him a hug saying softly, “You know I really liked those tights, so I expect a replacement stat, mister.” Hotch chuckled and said, “You got it, _y/n_, but you know I couldn’t help myself. Not when you tease me like that.” There was a shared laughter as Aaron turned off his lamp, grabbed his and _y/n_’s bag, and opened the door for both of them. He locked the door to his office behind him and trailed _y/n_. He had suddenly grown an appetite and asked, “So, what type of food are you feeling.” _y/n_ thought about it as they descended the stairs. She took his hand and said, “How about _y/f/t/f_?” Aaron smiled and said, “Sounds great!” _y/n_ rested her head against Aaorn’s shoulder and contemplated how lucky she was for him, and for Freudian slips.

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[thankskenpenders]

I'm a huge fan of Ian, but one criticism of him that I've seen that I kind of agree with is that he sometimes falls into "look how much I know about Sonic" in his writing. For example, a number of references in Frontiers like Tails namedropping Dark Gaia out of nowhere. It's a nice change of pace from Sega not knowing where they wanted to go with Sonic for like a decade, but it might be too far in the opposite direction. What do you think?

There's definitely a thin line between Ian's love of references and lore and lyric quotes being fun and grating, yeah. I think he tends to do it well, choosing things that will support and enhance the story he's trying to tell rather than just dropping random references for the sake of it, but sometimes it can kinda make me roll my eyes and go "okay, Ian, settle down buddy." He readily admits that sometimes he just really wants to play with all the toys in the toy box.

I think an example I might point do would be some of the Classic Sonic comics for IDW. The Tails special in particular felt like it relied very heavily on Ian being excited to use the Witchcarters again, and to use Flicky Island as a setting, but I felt like the story left me wanting a little more beyond just "this obscure old stuff is back again." (The art in all the Classic stuff is phenomenal, though, of course.)

Frontiers absolutely is jam packed full of references, but I think it works there because acknowledging and building off of decades of continuity is one of the main points of the story in Frontiers. It's part of a greater effort Sega has been making to acknowledge Sonic's legacy after much of the late '00s and early 2010s were spent being kind of ashamed of that stuff and trying to streamline the series. Frontiers, meanwhile, wanted to look back on all those past adventures and their inconsistent writing and figure out how to wring some proper character arcs out of them, so that the cast can reflect on those arcs and figure out what they want to do next. Mining hit-or-miss old material for a compelling throughline like that has always been something Ian's excelled at - it's literally what he did to the Archie comics when he started out - and having the characters acknowledge their past adventures is a part of that. It gives us a sense that Sonic and co. really have gone through a lot together, and that those experiences have shaped who they are today.

It's also worth remembering that a ton of more casual Sonic fans aren't as immersed in the state of the canon or Ian's referential writing style as we are. When Frontiers came out you'd see people say stuff like "OMG, Sonic mentioned Jet the Hawk!! I didn't know Sonic Riders was canon to the main series! I loved those games!" That kind of reaction is probably a big part of why those references are there. Sega wants fans to know that Sonic DOES have continuity, unlike a series like Mario where every game and sub-series is kind of its own thing, and that all the old stuff still matters. And if that's what you wanna do, then Ian's the guy for the job.

[leviathanspain]

mi amor

namor x avenger!reader

synopsis: after a long time running away from the one man who had promised you the world, you realize your fears have come to fruition

disclaimer: i have NOT seen the movie yet lmaooo i work all the time + i’m a cheap ass waiting for the pirated websites to upload the HD versions for the movie so bear with me if none of this is remotely accurate— based off of fics and clips i’ve seen

mi amor - my love

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you could hear the clamor of the fight. you had stayed back, the look of disappointment on shuri’s face when she tried to tug on you to help was like salt in your deep wound. you knew exactly who it was, having caught glimpses of their blue skin and their clothing, you felt the bile rise in your throat as panic surged your body.

had he truly found you again? after all this time?

you had spent the months after leaving, destroying every piece of your identity, faking your death, selling your belongings and erasing yourself from existence. for a time, it was easy. half the world had been snapped so half the people who once knew you, were gone.

but it didn’t make the struggle of it all any less. the avengers had dissolved, especially considering that half of your teammates were gone, you were left with one option, one that you weren’t really sure was reliable anymore.

wakanda had once let you call it home, and you hoped it would once again.

nakia’s voice was like music to your ears as the call had finally been picked up on the third ring.

your head fell into your hand with a sigh of relief, “nakia!” you nearly cried, “nakia, thank the gods..”

you heard a faint whisper of a man in the background before nakia responded with your name, “y/n? what’s wrong?”

your unloading of the situation took a mere five minutes, but nakia was already on her way with a jet to retrieve you in less than.

being back on wakanda was jarring. you had been here before, happy and accompanying bucky as he healed from hydra’s touch. and it was here, that you saw him for the very first time.

legends that your mother had told you never measured to his. he was pure magic, a mystical being that had you bowing on your knees.

he rose from the water as you felt the tears prick from your eyes. the darkness casted a shadow over his face, and it wasn’t until he was breathing your air, that you finally saw the beauty of him.

you felt the gasp of air leave your lungs, and instead, filled with the pounding water from down below.

you wanted to scream, feeling the burning of your lungs, you clawed at your throat, and even more at him, for his beauty was a facade for the evil that sat within him.

as he set a hand on your shoulder, intent on watching you die within his wrath, you gripped his hand, and let the fire of your pain burn through onto his skin.

he pulled back, hissing as he looked down at his injury. you collapsed at the same time, the water that made your lungs burn now emptied out on the ground, gasping for air you heaved.

“what..” you coughed, still gulping at the left over sea water, “the fuck?!” you yelled.

“i have the same question to ask you..” his voice was accented, a twinge of spanish just at the brink of his tongue you could almost hear it.

he looked down at his burn and smirked softly, “you are the fire they’ve warned about..”

you sent yourself back to reality.

“enough dwelling in the past..” you muttered. you mustered up your strength and stepped out onto the scene. it was less horrifying as you imagined, considering his style.

all the words fell immediately as you revealed yourself. shuri and ramonda both turned and the reveal of your betrayal played in their eyes.

“y/n.” his voice was like forbidden music to your ears. you turned your gaze away from them and faced him.

you regretted your decision to show, but you understood that this was partly your fault.

“k'uk'ulkan.” his name was like honey on your tongue, a sound to him that left him buzzing. you looked at him and wanted to beg the question, wanted to ask why he would go to such lengths to find you.

“don’t think that i didn’t know. i can feel you move amongst them, your heart is aligned with mine..” namor moved closer to you, “i felt them, their heartbeat, their energy..” namor whispered now, his words ever so enchanting.

you mustered up the courage and pushed him back roughly, the sound of sizzling flesh was heard just as his soldiers, stepped in front of him with weapons pointed at your neck.

you scoffed, “i was once considered your queen, your ruler and you my subjects, and you dare forget me so soon..” you stepped back, and ignored their faces as you stared at namor, “there is not a corner on this earth that you will leave unsearched, but there is the fact that you will never find him.” your words were like knives to his heart, and he seethed.

as you prepared to step back, run away as you have always done, the emotion that tugged at your heartstrings made you stop, and gaze him in the eye once more.

“how could you have done this to me, mi amor?” he was murmuring the words, and you looked back to see the wakandians glaring at you with betrayal, “i promised to give you the world,” he opened his arms and turned with a grimace, “even if the world is undeserving of your beauty, your power can change it, change them.” he glowered at the wakandians.

you shook your head, “how could i have stayed knowing your were walking the narrow line between justice and tyranny?” you echoed, “i made my decision, and i live with it everyday that he asks who his father is.” you sniffled, “it is now your turn to live with the consequences of your actions, mi amor.” the last words felt antagonizing, like salt to another deep wound.

the pain of walking away, knowing you had just given up another place you could’ve called home eventually, was tough. your son was with nakia, the only one entrusted with the information regarding his parentage, you had him blended into society, a child who lived in ignorance filled bliss.

you would give up your life, if it meant namor would never see him.