#i think i just have a type with characters

[bbluefllame]

hcs on how I think mha characters sleep

contains: pure silly stupidness

characters: tomura shigaraki, touya todoroki, keigo takami, izuku midoriya, toga himiko, plus one katsuki hc😭

note: LISTEN GANG I WAS SLEEPY BUT I COULDNT SKEEP SO I WAS LIKE OH EM GEE!!! keigo's went out of hand 😔😔😔

tomura shigaraki

- he usually sleeps in his normal attire, he has no energy to get up and change

- sleeps 4 hrs MAX

- his thumbs are always I mean always are covered by the rest of his fingers tightly, he probably decays mattresses every couple of months by accident

- either super light sleeper or super heavy no in-between, probably doesn't even sleep most of the time

- there's no pre-sleep routine. mf just plops down into the bed and blacks out OR he sleeps in his gaming chair😭

- if you're sleeping next to him, he would make sure he's facing the opposite side with his hands dangling at the edge of the bed just to make sure nothing happens to you.

- one thing that makes him black out is playing with his hair, like blackout like snore mimimimi type shit

- he's so still in his sleep, barely moves to the point you might think he's dead if he wasn't breathing‼️

- Overall he'd be a pretty good person to sleep next to (if he even sleeps) just make sure he doesn't have nightmares or everything is done and dusted (literally)

touya todoroki

- he either sleeps naked or something that can't snag on the staples/ irritate his scars (probably naked bcs have you seen his room?? ITS EMPTY EMPTY THERES NOTHING BESIDES HIS USUAL CLOTHES)

- I give him 5-6 hrs maybe then he wakes up but on nights where he's in too much pain, he takes a shit ton of painkillers and tries to sleep just to wake up 2 hrs later

-biggest snorer out there, complete opposite of tomura. esp w those lungs of his omg.

- you could be sleeping and BOOM 🚉 SNOREEEEEE HONKKKK you need earplugs with him, then he wakes up and goes "I don't snore, fuck you mean??"

- he tosses and turns 24/7 also he will 100% steal the blanket and kick you off, at this point it'd be more comfortable to sleep on the ground than to sleep next to him

- yk those videos where it's like someone tweaking while sleeping, like they roll around steal blankets and kick and stuff and do the craziest shit, yeah that's touya

- idk if he has a pre sleep routine I'm leaning towards it depends? he usually just makes sure his scars are clean so he doesn't get an infection and yk die!

- I conclude, a horrible person to sleep next to. Would much rather kms than tolerate a night of his torture!

keigo takami

- this bitch has 2 options, blackout the second he gets home in his hero attire, or if it's a day where he has to recover from an injury or something, these specific navy blue sweatpants and a black t-shirt

- depends on the day he's sleeping either 3 hrs or 9 hrs

- he doesn't snore but he talks in his sleep about the weirdest shit ever "noooo pls don't put me in the airfryer" he 100% has the weirdest fucking dreams to ever exist

- he never sleeps on his back, literally always on his stomach so his wings don't get in the way

- also on the topic of his wings, during said weird dreams if he's running away or something they start flapping and shit😭 it'd be so annoying to sleep next to him

- he sleepwalks 100% you look at that face and tell me he DOESNT?? he's a really light sleeper as well esp for nights where he might be called in

- definitely has a pre sleep routine (if he doesn't immediately blackout) ESP if you're living tg oh em gee, he'd have a longer skincare routine than you (tbf the skincare routine is kind of obligation from him to appeal to the civilians nd shit)

- he'd have a headband on his head pushing his hair back, washing his face, using a toner etcetera, and then going "baaaaaabeeee where'd you put my cosrx snail mucin, I know you used it" and he'd be all sassy and shit (twink cough cough sorry)

- if he's having a calm day, he's being the clingiest cutest little shit, you wanna go to eat? "nooo 5 minutes" . You wanna go to the bathroom? "Ugh be quick" while he's guarding the door waiting to tackle you and drag you back to bed. He's such a little (loving) shit

- he just lays there on top of you not willing to let go with a serene expression on his face, those days are rare though (fuck the commission 😠)

- random but he has some of the worst bed head you could ever see

- overall, kind of annoying to sleep next to (funny as well) but for him, who wouldn't tolerate it 🙏🏼

izuku midoriya

- before OFA bro used to get no sleep he'd have the most fucked up sleep schedule to ever exist ‼️‼️ like during weekends no sleep at all just staying up analyzing new heroes

- w OFA he's sleeping healthily or too much with the amount of energy he uses ESP in the first seasons when he breaks his bones a shit ton

- HIS SLEEP WEAR LMAOAOA funniest thing I've seen i don't have to say anything abt it 😭 a fucking shirt w " t-shirt" on it or sumn

- doesn't snore but moves a lot, and not even kicking?? just flipping side to side or clutching the blanket like he's a woman clutching her purse in the 1800s (no one's taking it from you calm down lil bro)

- occasionally he might talk but it's like 2 words then he flips to the other side

- no pre-sleep routine but that's bc he doesn't need one, his pre-sleep routine is studying or training, BUT bro has to be like wrapping his arms and hands at night or something bcs he's in pain (his arms are fucked up there's no way he doesn't have chronic pain)

- if you're forced to sleep next to each other (insert ur own fanfic idea of why) he would be so tense he'd have his hands by his side tryna not sleep so he doesn't annoy you, at this point, you'd be annoyed by how tense he is

- he's not a bad person to sleep next to tbf, just like he might be kinda annoying that's it

Toga Himiko

- she has pink pj's and everything she's such a cutie (some have blood on them but whoops accident!)

- she sleeps with plushies (her room is adorable. search it up pleek‼️), changes the plushie every night so "every single one of them feels loved"

- she sleeps pretty healthily although on the low side 6-7 hrs prolly, she's told by compress "You're a growing girl, you need your sleep" or something similar when she wakes up too early

- she's more giggles in her sleep rather than anything, maybe whispers a name then goes teehehehe, she's pretty calm in her sleep honestly

- she has a pre-sleep routine and it's adorable, if it's in the broke era she steals face masks (specifically hello kitty ones), moisturizers, toners, face washes and skips back to the base with a smile on her face

- has 100% forced a couple of the league members to use the face masks

- has music blasting (for some reason I see her playing like a g6 and bopping her head while putting stuff on) at 10 pm, she 100% has been forced to turn it off bcs it woke everyone up

- she's such a cuddly person as well but in the best way possible, before sleeping though 100% there's gonna be gossiping or just yapping tg

overall my favorite !! silliest girl to ever exist I luv her

bonus katsuki

- bro sleeps like a Victorian child dying from the plague, waiting for a true loves kiss type shit you'd see him and go "wtf okay disney princess😟"

[justatypicalwizard]

Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight

Katsuki never believed in love at first sight. How could someone meet eyes and feel as if a thunder ruptured down from the skies and struck them? To love someone means to accept every part of them and to be able to incorporate them into your everyday life. It means building a brand new everyday with that person.

In order to do so you need to know a lot about them. Who they are, what are their plans for the future, what is their character and so on. Then you need to see if you are compatible in many spheres. You need to invite them to your friends group to see if it’ll hit off, you should try living together, they need to get to know your parents.

There are simply so many things to check off the list in order to be able to say you love someone. Otherwise it’s just empty words. I love you here and there. I love you for a week. I love you when you do as I please. Bullshit.

Mina constantly pestered Katsuki that his definition of love feels more like a chore or a job interview than like something a human would be able to accomplish. It wasn’t his fault he had some standards everyone else seemed to lack.

So even now Katsuki doesn’t like to admit that he fell in love at first sight, because it wasn’t the first time when he looked at you.

A quiet ping of his phone tore him out of his work. A new message from someone he didn’t recognise. Without much thought he opened the text.

[Hi, you may not know me but we go to the same lecture on Wednesday at 1 PM. I heard you have neat notes and wanted to ask if it wouldn’t be a problem if you send me today’s ones. I  got sick and couldn’t come and I wouldn’t want to fall behind with the material. Thanks!]

Geez, was there a longer way to type it? Couldn’t you just write: can you give me notes? On the other hand he always complained about people being douchebags.

Clicking onto your profile Katsuki saw a cheesy photo and a few posts from your daily life and vacations. Nothing much to be honest. Yet, he could vaguely remember your face around the people who entered the lecture hall. It won’t hurt to help.

[Sure]

[File attached]

Pushing his phone to the far end of his desk he went back to work. A few minutes later there was another quiet ding and this time Katsuki felt irritation bubbling inside him. It was you once again.

[Thank you so much!]

[I owe you]

[If you ever need anything feel free to write]

Whatever.

It only took a week for Katsuki to be indeed looking for help from someone. Once in a while, during his hero training, he was forced to pair up with someone in order to work on his rescue skills. Usually they’d use dummies but some fucktard in the course planning team decided that it would be most helpful if the students could train with a real human.

Normally Katsuki would ask Mina. He’d swallow his pride and force himself to listen to her babbling for two hours. Just to get it done. Unfortunately, Mina dumped him today, leaving only a [sorry, not feeling well, find someone else]. Damned flu season.

Who was he supposed to ask now, Denki?

As he scrolled down his chats, your profile pic flew by making Katsuki halt.

If you ever need anything feel free to write.

Screw it, you said it yourself, might as well find a person already and move on with his day. He typed a quick explanation and pushed the send button. The day was nearing the afternoon when you responded.

[Sure, if it’s two hours I can make it. Send me when and where I should be]

He shrugged and gave you the address for today's training.

In the early evening Katsuki found himself trotting towards his usual fighting ground absentmindedly. He was thinking about something related to work at Miruko’s when the idea flew out of his head. You were there, he could see you from afar, walking in circles in front of the main door.

Were you an idiot? It was the middle of winter and the early evening cold tore through layers of warm coats to sink into your bones. Why weren’t you entering the building to warm up a bit.

That’s why Katsuki is so stubborn about the whole love at first sight thing. It certainly wasn’t that exact moment when his heart skipped a beat because of you. You were shivering, hiding your chin and red tinted cheeks deeper into the collar of your winter coat. When you spotted him you reached out a gloved hand and waved.

“What the fuck are you doing outside, get in there or you’ll catch another cold.” He persisted, ushering you towards the entrance.

“Wow, good evening to you too.” You looked at him from under your woollen hat, surprised to get yelled at first thing you see him. Though, you did hear the upcoming pro-hero Dynamite, who went to the same lecture as you, was rather intense. “I don’t know, this place just looks fancy. Didn’t want to stand inside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“So you stood outside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“Exactly.”

He let you in and showed you around. After leaving your coat and getting a warm tea (his idea), you were ready to help with his training. The support students and university staff running around asked you to take off any unnecessary piece of clothing such as jewellery or sweaters that could get in the way. You gladly went through with their instructions.

You b-lined another student, a senior support course, who showed you the place where you’d be waiting to be rescued. The spacious arena was moulded into the shape of a city. Some buildings were fine, others rundown as if a villain attack rolled over them. There were paveways and roads, streetlamps and plastic trees. You even spotted a car, though it didn’t look like it could take off anytime soon. 

“It will look the same over and over. You sit or lie down in the place where I leave you and wait for your hero.” Your guide briefed the rules. “And every time pick out a different scenario and tie the band in the place that is put on it.” He handed you a dozen of ribbons with small notes attached to them. The first one you grabbed read: broken arm (tie around elbow).

“Sure.” You nodded your head and he left you on the second floor of a wannabe office building. There were a few chairs scattered around and a table that had a weird bite mark on it. You obediently wrapped the band around your arm and sat down on the floor, waiting.

You wondered how it’ll be, to get fake rescued. You were never in such a situation, always watching the villains from the comfort of your TV rather than first hand. What was Dynamite’s quirk? Suddenly you felt stupid for not knowing. On the other hand, you were never up to date with new heroes and all the popularity polls or colourful magazines. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

Katsuki didn’t leave you for long. You were counting the pieces of shattered glass beneath your feet when a series of explosions passed beside the building. The small pieces you were meticulously adding shook and you let out a squeak when something heavy hit the wall behind you.

“Shut up, it's me.” Craning your neck, you saw Dynamite’s face, upside down, looking at you. He was halfway through the window. “What have you got?”

“God, you scared me.” You chuckled but quickly shut your mouth. The guide asked you to play the best victim you can. Victims shouldn’t laugh.

Dynamite hopped in front of you and crouched to read the note attached to your elbow. He mumbled something in the lines of fucking scenario and looked you straight in the eye.

“I’m gonna get you out of here.”

There wasn’t anything dramatic going on, it was even quiet outside save for a few shouts here and there. Yet, there was just something in a bulked man looking at you and promising you protection, one secured by his own arms. You felt like the guy from the firefighters video.

You couldn’t stop the giggle at the thought.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Dynamite spat.

“Nothing, nothing.” You shook your hands in front of your still laughing face. “Oh shit, this one’s supposed to be broken. Okay, just save me already.” You really fought with the snicker but the cheesiness and awkwardness of the whole situation had you in a chokehold.

“Whatever.” The hero sighed, visibly annoyed, and scooped you into his hands like a sack of potatoes. “I’ll need you to wrap your legs around me. Push the broken arm into my chest and use your healthy one to hold onto me.”

You did as instructed and glued yourself to him as tight as you could. He still held you with one of his arms and just when you started to wonder how the two of you would get down from the second floor he jumped out of the window.

A scream escaped your lips but it was muffled by a loud explosion.

For the next two hours you flew through the air in Dynamite’s hands over and over again. He held you in different ways, depending on your supposed injury, but every time you landed into the safe zone, you realised you were the first or nearly the first. That guy was quick like hell.

The last scenario rolled over and it was a panic attack. You were supposed to be physically fine but otherwise unresponsive and difficult to work with due to your shock. Dynamite tried to take extra steps to calm you down, speaking about how he’ll take you to safety and how it will all be over in a second. It looked like he was having a hard time.

“I need to touch you to take you somewhere safe.” He said, wrapping one of his hands around you.

When you were both at the safe zone, with cardboard paramedics to take care of you, Dynamite did something different. Instead of leaving you in the place where the group of injured would grow, he carried you straight to the ambulance.

“She has a panic attack.” He said to the empty fake vehicle and you just couldn’t take any more of it. You erupted in a fit of laughter. Your body shook in his hands and you gripped the X on his uniform to steady yourself. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You tried to explain but the laughter squeezed your throat. “I’m a shitty actor.”

“I see that.” Dynamite grumbled.

“Do you really need to talk to cardboard people and empty vehicles for two hours every week?” You asked, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“Is it really that fucking funny?”

“No, no! I get it.” You finally calmed down, letting go of the front of his costume. “It’s not that funny, maybe a bit but not that much. I think I’m just in a good mood.” You shrug your shoulders. “It was fun, flying with you, like a free rollercoaster ride.” You gave him a big, big smile. A big genuine smile. A big, genuine, lovely smile, with your eyes closed and teeth out and cheeks tinted pink.

People are stupid. That’s what Katsuki thinks. It’s not love at first sight. It’s love because of a single sight.

Even though Katsuki came to some fundamental conclusions in the topic of love he would get all defensive and intense when he was asked about how the two of you met. It would sound way better if he could say the two of you met, then started to talk more, then went on a date and agreed to meet each other and so on. He just felt so stupid, so awkward and silly when he had to admit that all it took for you was a single smile to make his heart skip a beat.

The worst part? It felt a little pathetic honestly, as if people never smiled at him, but truthly they didn’t, not like that. Not like you.

Katsuki still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Yet, every other piece of his meticulously calculated equation of love was torn down and rewritten, all of which he gladly took.

[pastabaguette]

sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.

i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:

monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.

gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.

agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)

chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)

now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:

gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.

agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.

holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.

(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)

[lxcalmenace]

Some silly scenarios with bluelock boys

Based on this headcanon post

Characters included < Isagi, Bachira, Nagi, Rin, Sae and Kaiser > X gn!reader (separate)

tw: none?

⟡Isagi Yoichi - Gets into twitter discourse.

After what felt like months, it seemed that yours and Isagi's schedules had finally aligned. You entered his apartment and made your way to the living room to greet Isagi; just then you saw him sitting on the couch, a furrowed expression crossing his face and his phone in his hand. He was aggresively typing and scrolling on his phone that he failed to notice you taking a seat next to him.

"Oh shoot I didn't see you, sorry", he mutters as he shifts, allowing you to sit comfortably.

"Are you seriously arguing on twitter?," was all you said that made Isagi look away in embarrassment. Ofcourse he didn't want to admit it straight away but he was indeed losing the said argument.

"You know you don't have to prove anything to anyone right? And who even takes twitter seriously nowadays?"

You watched as Isagi let of a small huff before turning off his phone. Without a word, he pulled you in a gentle embrace as the rest of your evening blurred out into soft giggles and tender moments.

⟡Bachira Meguru - Very willing to eat inedible things.

You have been waiting to buy those food inspired scented candles for God knows too many days now; until finally, you managed to get your hands on one of them recently. It was a pancake inspired candle. It was so realistic that you could barely tell it was fake—if it weren’t for the wick sticking out of the top, you might have thought it was an actual pancake

As you opened the box, the mouthwatering, sugary smell of pancakes hit you, spreading throughout the room. This candle was too realistic and just like that, Bachira was willing to sink his teeth into the wax block.

"If it smells so good, it has to taste good too! Let me have just a bite please [name]," he whined. Bro dropped to his knees begging and pleading in exaggerated desperation- as if he would've perished due to hunger right then and there. You couldn't help but chuckle at this sight.

"Ok fine...A little bite won't hurt, but don't come complaining to me later," you sighed as you surrendered the candle to Bachira.

Disgust. Pure disgust washed over his face after he took the bite. He looked at you with teary eyes as he desperately tried to get rid of the nasty taste of the wax; which in response, you just shrugged in a 'I told you so' manner. After helping him wash his mouth and feeding him chocolates to counter the unpleasant flavor, you both finally settled down. Bachira swore that he wouldn't eat anything weird after this incident.

He tried eating cotton the next week.

⟡Nagi Seishiro - Uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.

Nagi was out shopping for some groceries while you were tagging alone for some snacks. It was a sunny day, you both entered the supermarket; Nagi took the basket as you made your way inside. He thinks shopping for basic necessities is a hassle and thus the reason for you tagging along to keep him company. You were free to get anything you wanted so you looked around the store, but nothing caught your eye. So you decided to go back, you spotted your tall boyfriend and made your way towards him. He was in the hygiene isle, eyeing down some shampoo bottles.

"Do you seriously use 2-in-1 shampoo? -" you ask, raising your eyebrow. Nagi looked at you with an unbothered expression as he shrugged, "Uh, yeah. Been using that since forever"

"Why are you asking me this, something wrong with it?" the tall male added while casually putting another bottle in the cart.

"Your hair is always so silky and soft; Its hard to believe that a simple 2-in-1 could give you those results. I mean, people spend a ton of money on haircare products, to achieve what you have, you know?" you replied.

"Then, thanks to my genes, I guess," he smirked as he turned around to look at you. You couldn't help but sigh and let out a chuckle. There was absolutely no point in arguing with Nagi- He always managed to win, even when he wasn't trying. You raised your hands as if you were surrendering, and then you both made your way further into the store.

Nagi is a simple guy, and slowly over time, you are starting to find comfort in his simplicity.

⟡Rin Itoshi - Plays roblox.

"Rin, dinner's ready, come down!" You yelled from the kitchen whilst serving the food on the table. A few unresponsive minutes passed, so you decided to fetch Rin yourself; thinking he might be in the shower or taking a nap. Making your way to the shared bedroom, you knocked on the door before poking your head through.

There he was, sitting on his gaming chair, with the lights out, playing..roblox..? You observed him for a couple of minutes, his face was illuminated by the screen, ever so unfazed; Rin was too immersed playing The Mimic that he failed to notice you slowly creeping up on him. The only time Rin was caught off guard was when you tapped his shoulder to get his attention. You swore you saw Rin's face go pale for a second as his eyes widen in surprise. "You play roblox?," you asked as you raised your brows in amusement.

He took off his headset and he nodded, "Is dinner ready?"

"It is"

"Alright"

You both stared at each other.

"Can we play Dress to impress later? Rin please-"

"NO."

Few moments later, the dark haired striker was seen playing Dress to impress, all the bright colors and outfits flashed on his screen display.

"You're doing incredibly well, who would've thought you had those designer skills in you Rinnie," you teased him

"Oh shut up...I just don't like losing, ok?" he scoffed but there was a small smile creeping on his lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing very well that he only agreed to play this if only you were ready to join him in his horror games. It was a win-win situation for both of you.

⟡Sae Itoshi - Had an emo phase

Your phone was buzzing for quite some time now so you finally decided to check who was texting you at this time of the night. Sae was on his way home from practice; Deciding to stay up and wait for him to get home, you layed down on the couch while keeping a random movie playing in the background. As you opened the chat, you couldn't help but burst into laughter- There were old pictures of Sae; eyes lined with eyeliner, hair was dyed dark and swooped to a side and he was wearing dark clothes. You saved all the pictures one by one as you swiped for more, that's when you heard the door open- signaling that Sae had returned home. Quickly turning off your phone, you were trying so hard to contain your laughter, but a giggle escaped your lips.

Sae muttered a small, "What are you up to [name]?" before raising an eyebrow at you. He knew that you had something cooking up due to the way you were smiling at him.

"Sae," you purred, "if hypothetically someone were to leak your embarrassing pictures, what would you do?" you grinned.

You watched as Sae's expressions went from neutral to that of pure horror.

"[Name] don't you dare-" he warned.

"I'm not saying that I have any embarrassing pictures of you tho," you replied, "It was a hypothetical question, unless," a smirk formed on your lips as you looked at Sae. "You never know what could happen next."

His eyes widen in disbelief, he knew that you had something against him. "Fine, I don't have the energy to do this. Tell me what do you want," he sighed, giving up. "But atleast show me these hypothetical pictures you have acquired, and where did you even get them from?"

You giggle as you showed him all of the pictures; to which he openly cringed hard. He was definitely not expecting this. It brought back so many of his memories before going to Spain. He sighed as he accepted his faith and made his way to the bedroom to freshen up. You typed a quick 'Thank you' and sent the chat.

"Rin reacted '👍' to your chat."

⟡Michael Kaiser - Sleeps in till noon

'12:27'

It was past noon. You had finished making breakfast, eating it, doing some chores around the house, watering the plants, having a small snack and watching a few episodes of your favorite show, and yet your boyfriend was still in your bed, sleeping peacefully. You would've chalked it up to him being tired, but he had gone to bed exceptionally early too. It was starting to concern you now. What if he was not feeling well? You made your way to the bedroom and entered it silently. There he was, soft breathing and sleeping peacefully. You sat down beside him and gently touched his forehead to check if he was sick. Everything was fine. You decided to run your fingers through his messy bed hair, untangling any small knots. Michael slowly started to stir and the first thing he did was kiss your hand, which made your lips morph into a small smile.

"Good morning, mein Schatz," He mumbled groggily, "What time is it?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. He let out a yawn as he sat up your bed

"Its good afternoon now, wake up Micha," you continue to run your fingers through his blonde locks as he embraced you, still feeling sleepy.

You pat his head, "C'mon have your lunch, you must be hungry."

"Are you on the menu?" he muttered against your shoulder.

". . ."

"Then no, I dont want to eat"

"Michael no-"

Not proofread so ignore any mistakes and ty for reading !!

[pomefioredove]

hey so can I possibly have a scenario where Azul reveals his octopus form to his s/o and s/o is surprised, but doesn’t mind it. When he keeps being unsure and hides under water, s/o just dives into the water right next to him and kisses him under water? They can’t breathe under water unlike Azul being human.

this is so sweet!! I hope you don't mind, I did a fic instead of headcanons cause it felt right to me

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ "I'd owe you"

summary: in the context of a first kiss type of post: short fic characters: azul additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship

It's not that Azul is nervous.

Of course not. He's long gotten over the "crush" phase of your relationship. No more butterflies or blushes when he sees you, and for the better.

You're... a part of his life now.

He's not a fool, though.

He knows that each phase of the relationship comes with a different test to pass. And he has passed; the butterflies, the blushing and stammering, the confession, the first date, all with flying colors and his usual bravado.

Now, a month in, he knows the next is imminent.

He is NOT nervous!

He wants to... to be prepared, that's all. But he can't put it off forever.

"Is this strange for you?" he asks, neck-deep in the water.

You, beautiful, effervescent in the moonlight, are sitting on the dock, kicking your legs back and forth. It's high tide, and dark. "No,"

Somehow, in his mind, he thought this would be fine.

"Are you certain? We could go back to school, if you'd like," he says, hopeful you'll change your mind.

"I'm sure," Damn it.

"You haven't let me see you yet, anyway."

Damn it, damn it. Was being in the water in his natural form not enough?

Azul curses himself again. He did agree to this, foolish as it was.

Hesitantly, he lifts one, just one tentacle out of the water. He's trying very hard to keep calm, but he feels like he's being crushed.

You don't react. At all. No teasing, sure, but no reassurance, no smiling, not even that look of awe you so often have. He suddenly feels much colder than the water, and, without thinking, goes to hide.

Again.

The last thing he sees are your eyes, widened in surprise, and then he's underwater.

Azul knows he'll have to come out eventually. He can't just leave you alone on the dock. And he has an exam first thing in the morning, anyway.

But for now, he'd like to wallow. And so he will.

Of course, he should have known better than to think he'd get away with that. In seconds, the surface tension of the water breaks, his calm interrupted by you, you, of course you, suddenly with him.

Azul wants to say something, he wants to hide, but before he can even move, your hands are on his cold cheeks. And then, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, you're kissing him.

The world stops.

For the first time in a long time, he doesn't know what to do.

So, he lets you lead. It's... sort of nice. In a way. Then it sort of feels like you're holding your breath, which is a little- oh, right.

He comes back to his senses, grabs your shoulders, and swims you to the surface.

"Look at you," he sighs. "You're shivering. We need to get you back to school before you catch something."

You say nothing. You're smiling.

Azul sighs again. It's like you hadn't heard a word he said. "Too late for that, then. What are you staring at?"

"You're beautiful,"

His hearts stop. He doesn't respond; if he tries, he knows he'll just make a fool of himself.

Of course. After he was so confident he'd left this awkward phase behind, you manage to give him butterflies all over again.

Finally, he clears his throat. "...Thank you,"

"...But don't think that'll excuse you from drying off and getting warm. I won't have you sick on my behalf. I'd owe you."

Your smile warms with something he recognizes, but can't think of now.

"I think you already do,"

[grandline-fics]

Hi Kerrie, thank you for your wonderful writings! I was wondering if we could we see the ‘waking up the morning after’ prompt with Shanks and/or zoro and sabo (if you enjoy writing for these characters). Thanks, I hope you’re having a great day! ✨

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Waking up the morning after

WARNINGS: a little suggestive but nothing explicit? mostly fluff

CHARACTERS: Shanks, Zoro

WORDS: 1,889

A/N: Thank you for requesting this! I kept everything more on the fluffy and sweet side and only managed to think of something for Shanks and Zoro. I might do something with this for Sabo separately if I think of a scenario for him. Hope you like what I managed to come up for this one.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

SHANKS

You’d always known what you were getting yourself in for when you joined the Red Hair Pirates. You knew the type of man Shanks was, his presence alone commanded everyone’s attention and that was before he’d even opened his mouth to begin the effortless charm that flowed from him. He was as charming as he was powerful and unapologetically flirty with everyone he came across. Even before he’d offered you a place on his crew your first interaction with him head been a flirtatious one. It had been so natural and easy, you’d never had an interaction like it. If it hadn’t been interrupted by the group of bandits attacking in the middle of your conversation you’d been sure that you would have gladly followed Shanks to where his bed had been for the night and never seen him again when you woke. However it was thanks to the bandits that Shanks had gotten to see just how formidable a fighter you were and insisted you be a part of his crew. 

Naturally you couldn’t say no to him with an offer like that but now that he was your Captain you’d made it a firm rule that nothing would happen physically between you both. It would just become messy if it was only a one time thing. It would muddy the waters between seeing him as a lover without lessening his authority as your leader. While you knew deep down that Shanks would never kick you off the crew you didn’t want to risk it. You’d kept firm in your dedication to just being his subordinate and resisted his charms when the crew partied. Yes you indulged in the playful banter but that’s as far as you allowed it to go. You just always felt so comfortable with him that the second his lips met yours the evening before during one of your late night talks that all sense went out the window and you gave in to temptation so easily.

That’s why you refused to open your eyes, because if you did that meant facing the fact you’d royally fucked up. Still denial was the more appealing option because the warmth of Shanks’ sleeping body against yours was just as enticing as he was when he was awake. No, you had to be strong. With a deep breath you forced your hand to rub your eyes and slowly opened them, internally cursing when you saw the sight of Shanks sleeping all too peacefully beside you. It really wasn’t fair how good he looked but you couldn’t get distracted. You needed to talk about what happened. Glancing down you looked at his arm across your body, fingers lightly curled against your hip. As if sensing what you were awake, Shanks’ peaceful expression shifted to one of groggy stirring. His fingers secured themselves against your side before his arm pulled you sharply to hold you by his chest. Your breath lodged in your chest when he let out a content sigh, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Mornin’ gorgeous…” Heavy with sleep, his voice was even deeper than normal. When you didn’t immediately answer, Shanks’ eyes finally opened, regarding you carefully. “What’s up?”

“You really have to ask?” You asked softly with a small laugh, turning you head to look at him. You never had an issue being open and honest with Shanks. Even now as you both lay naked and about to talk about what happened between you both you felt no hesitation or need to hold back. “Last night shouldn’t have happened, should it?”

“You asking me or telling me?” Shanks asked softly, fingers lightly moving to play with yours. “I don’t regret it.”

“This isn’t about regrets Shanks.” You sighed, settling your free hand over his to still the gentle but distracting motions. “This is about what happens next. This is about balance. What are the crew going to think?”

“I think the words ‘fucking finally’ and ‘Cap’n you lucky bastard’ will be the general consensus.” Shanks grinned at you, relieved to see you fight a smile and playfully roll your eyes at him. “I’m serious though. The only one overthinking this is you. The crew have been waiting on this for so long so nothing’s going to change with them. The only question is, did you want this to have been a one-time thing?”

“Shanks you don’t do relationships. Not in the time I’ve been on the crew.”

“Yeah because I only wanted to do a relationship with you.” Shanks explained, lacing his fingers between yours to lead your hand up to his lips and press the softest kiss against your knuckles. “So what do you think?”

“I think you’re a very dangerous man Red Hair…” you sighed, stunned at his confession but not rejecting it. His effortless charm and commanding warmth was dangerous. Even more so was how safe and happy he made you but you had no fears about this.

“You’re one to talk.” Shanks chuckled, lowering his hand to pull you closer. “You’ve had me under your spell since the first day we met and I’ll be damned if I let you go now.”  

ZORO

You and Zoro always had a strange sort of tension underlying in your friendship. On the surface you both were warm and comfortable in each other’s presences. Perfectly balancing the other and both having a strong understanding of the other without needing to communicate beyond brief words and the slightest shifts in stance. On the ship you two were considered the closest of friends. Underneath it all? You both held heavy attraction and intense want for each other but at the same time the restraint you both had to never step over that line and delve deeper into what you both desired was stronger. For now you were both set on getting stronger and enjoying your adventures together with the rest of the Strawhats. Deep down you both knew that the other wouldn’t reject any advances if they were made but still you both held back, believing there would be plenty of time for that. That you’d both know when the time was right. 

Then Sabaody turned the tide for you all. Under the assault of the Marines you were all defeat so easily and with terror in your eyes you realised you were all outmatched. Out of instinct you looked to Zoro and you could only watch helplessly and washed in cold dread as the swordsman disappeared in the blink of an eye. Then one by one the rest of you were dispatched by Kuma, struck out of sight and before you knew it you were on a completely different island. Alone and scared for the first time in a long while, missing and fearing for your crew. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse you were faced with the news that your Captain had lost his brother. Thankfully you deciphered his coded message and resolved yourself to spend that time getting stronger. 

Through the two years away from your friends you always thought of them, hoping they were safe and training too although Zoro crept into your mind most of all. On your worst days, the image of him training on Sunny’s deck like he used to helped motivate you to push through your mental blocks and keep going. Finally the day came when you stepped foot on Sabaody again and a shudder ran through you at the memory of what had happened the last time came to your mind. You had faith in your crew that you’d all improved and it would never happen again but it was hard not to remember the fear of that day as if it was happening all over again. Setting off you made your way to the grove for the long awaited reunion. 

Night had begun to fall when you spotted the familiar sight of Sunny’s head and your steps quickened from your relaxed pace into a full run. Just as you climbed onto the deck you felt a presence rush towards you. Sharply you turned and lifted your weapon in time to block the blade being swung at you. Your eyes lit at the sight of Zoro, the relief that flooded you quickly gave way into all those old feelings hurtling back and your smile grew to see the recognition appear in Zoro’s expression. Then your smile fell slightly to see one of his eyes was scarred and shut. Without thinking you reached out and settled your hand on his cheek, your thumb gently touching his scar. The small action was all it took to bring those old feelings that had always danced dangerously close to the surface reappear stronger than even given the two years of separation. “Who else has arrived?”

“No one. It’s just us.” Zoro answered while capturing your hand that was still against his cheek. Without needing to say anymore you both closed the distance remaining between you both and your free hand fisted in the collar of his clothing and yanked him forward while his grabbed your waist. Neither of your wasted anymore time in finally coming together and kissing intensely, something both of you had spend the two years apart regretting hadn’t happened until now. Even then it wasn’t enough, you were both so desperate for each other, to make up for lost and wasted time holding back that you both fell headlong into your desires now; acting in perfect synchronisation and the almost wordless communication that was unique to the two of you.

Finally when morning came you woke feeling calmer and more at peace than you ever had before. Even with the weight of Zoro’s arms holding you tight and secured against his body you felt light and happy. More importantly you didn’t feel scared about the next part of your adventures with the crew. Your eyes opened to see Zoro was already awake and watching you carefully, seeming to be just as relaxed as you were. “Hope you’re not planning to greet everyone back like this.”

“As if.” Zoro rolled his good eye but the slow grin began to appear on his face as he took in your face in the morning light. The two years had changed you both, but not in the ways it mattered. You were still you and apart from his loyalty to Luffy, you were the only other person he worked hard to get stronger for and return to. At his response you grinned brightly and Zoro let his knuckles lightly stroke your face, he’d missed your smile. He’d missed you. Zoro leaned forward with the intention of pulling you into another kiss only to stop when a familiarly ‘super’ cheer broke through the calm morning air. 

“Looks like we won’t have the ship to ourselves anymore.” You grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss against his lips as you prepared yourself to get up and change to greet Franky. It wouldn’t be long now before you were all finally reunited. You were stopped when Zoro sat up with you and pulled you back to hug you tight, his silent way of telling you he wasn’t going anywhere ever again, not without you. With a warm smile you squeezed his arm in a reassurance that you felt the same way.

——————————————-

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[mindmelter]

A Body Stealer Tale: Fugitive

"I only have four available at the moment. I don't hunt like I used to." I say, guiding the man to my basement, where four men are standing frozen in only their underwear.

"It's fine, they all look good." The man says.

He is a fugitive, one of the most wanted men in the country. The kind you see on the news, his face plastered everywhere, but no one knew the truth. No one knew the lengths he would go to escape. That’s where I come in. I don’t judge them—how could I? That’s not my role. My job is simple: I help them find a new body to hide in.

"Would you mind giving me their info?" The man asks.

"From left to right, we have Ethan. He's 19 years old, fresh out of high school, and I got him at a small beach town where he was spending his summer surfing and working part-time at a café. His bodysuit is smooth, with just the right amount of muscle definition, and that wavy hair makes him stand out. He's the perfect body if you like that carefree, beach vibe.

Next is Jake. At 22, he's fresh from the military, built like a rock. I picked him up after he finished his last tour. The tight buzzcut and his stocky build give him that no-nonsense, tough look. If you're into strength and durability, Jake's bodysuit is the one for you.

Then, we have Cole. He's 24 and hails from a small Texas town, hence the cowboy hat. I found him working at a rodeo—he's got that strong, silent type charm. His broad shoulders and muscular chest give him a powerful presence, perfect for anyone wanting that rough, country boy look. You won't be bothered by anyone if you pick him.

And finally, there's Luca. At 23, he's got a natural good-looking face that makes heads turn. I got him right after he graduated college—he was modeling on the side to make ends meet. His suit has that classic, athletic look, with just the right amount of body hair to give it character."

The man looked thoughtful, like he was having a hard time picking one. He inspected them from closer and pulled down the underwear of each one to inspect their junk. After a while, he finally decided.

"I think I’ll go with..."

[mermaidsirennikita]

I gotta say this is also very unsuprising casting when you think about it. Like as soon as the shock had worn off I was like...yeah of course she cast them.

Oh yeah, it does make sense because Emerald isn't about what's good for the project, Emerald is about what makes Emerald happy. Which is why I fundamentally can't get into her creatively.

Because of course, any creative has their aesthetic, their sensibility, their work. And I respect that, as a creative.

But you also have to kill your darlings. And we think of that in the writing sense most often—cut that sentence, that scene, that chapter if it doesn't truly serve the work. Scrap the whole thing and start over if it's truly not what it should be.

I'm a STRONG believer in that, to be fair. Brutal. Maybe too much so? Lol. Or I'd have a book out by now.

But anyway, it applies to every type of creative work, imo. You don't cast someone because YOU like them, particularly in an adaptation of a work as iconic as Wuthering Heights. You cast them because they are right for the role.

Heathcliff and Cathy, especially Heathcliff, are two of the most groundbreaking and influential characters in literature of the past 3 centuries. Heathcliff's lack of proximity (for his era) to whiteness is particularly central to the role, and I don't know anyone who seriously takes this work apart and isn't like... actively racist... who interprets Heathcliff as white. It's so crucial to his character that he is "other" in his society.

It's just TRULY a shame to me that she not only cast someone as subpar as Elordi, but someone so, so white. Like, I wouldn't want a white actor I love to play Heathcliff. And this is a fabulous role for a man of color, too.

The last adaptation did cast a man of color, but it was frankly not a very high profile project and not well done.

(I also think it would be compelling to cast a man of Roma descent OR a man of Asian, specifically South Asian descent because the text literally uses a contemporary term for Indian men to describe him... Though Nelly also speculates that he has Chinese heritage, and there are definitely some implications that he could be descended from presumably African enslaved people. The latter I could definitely see being an interpretation when you factor in the speculation that he's Mr. Earnshaw's illegitimate child. I think there's always this idea that "catch-all" terms were probably being used to describe Heathcliff's appearance, but I've thought for a while that I would personally most love to see a Roma actor or a South Asian actor play him.

But like. Literally any other than a white guy.)

This will be much more high profile, with way more attention, and it just really sucks that Emerald decided to use it to push one of her faves. It tells me that she has very little respect for the text. On what planet would anyone, even in the 1800s, look at Jacob Elordi and think that he was anything other than a white guy.

And again, I think Margot is way too old to play Cathy, and honestly doesn't read in any way as Cathy to me. I say that as someone who, again, considers her a very strong actress when she's in her element. I just. Ugh.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

Look, when Ed leaves with Jack it isn't Ed choosing Jack over Stede as the better partner/love interest. This is what Stede thinks is happening. Stede hasn't even entirely admitted to himself at this point that his investment in Ed is romantic, but he does treat it as a breakup, he sees Jack as a rival for Ed's attention/love, so from Stede's perspective, yes, Ed is leaving him for Jack.

Stede thinks he is in the romance novel plot and has to compete with his love interest's ex for his affections.

This is also what Jack is intending to make Stede feel.

Jack is playing a con. He is actively working towards Stede coming to the conclusion that Love Triangle Business is happening, but Jack's motivation isn't winning back Ed as a boyfriend from Stede. I don't think Jack does boyfriends. Jack does dalliances. He would probably agree with Lucius's "we don't own each other". And this would apply if Jack happened to randomly come across the Revenge and decide to fuck with Ed's new crush for kicks and giggles (which is what Anne and Mary do when in that situation!). But Jack doesn't come across the Revenge by accident. He is on a mission, given to him by Izzy. We don't know if Jack gets paid for it or if he does it because he's worried about Ed and doesn't want the Navy to get him, or some combination of both, but Jack is the only one in this equation who actually knows what is happening, and what is happening is a plan to drive a wedge between Ed and Stede to make Ed leave the Revenge so he's out of the picture when the Navy shows up.

But neither of this is what's going on from Ed's perspective. (This entire episode is a masterpiece in the "characters completely misunderstanding each other and what's going on" trope.) Ed doesn't really figure that he's been cast as the pivotal point of a love triangle. Ed isn't spending the episode trying to choose the better boyfriend candidate and then leaving with him.

Ed is busy having a personal identity crisis.

This crisis has been ongoing for a while when Jack shows up. With Izzy's pressure to pirate a certain way gone, Ed is freer to explore what Ed wants to do now and how he wants to live and who he wants to be. He is tired of the traditional pirate life, he wants to try something different. He also isn't ready to fully do a hard cut. He just figured out Stede might return his feelings during the treasure hunt. They just decided to co-captain. A lot of things are changing for Ed.

And then comes by a very old pal. Jack and Ed have history, they used to sail together, they survived their difficult youth under a cruel captain together. Jack represents a different type of pirate life than Izzy. Jack is fun. (Everyone but Stede thinks Jack is fun, and that's in no small parts because Jack is actively working towards making Stede uncomfortable but everyone else have fun and take Jack's side - this works on everyone in the crew including Ed!)

From the beginning on, Ed is struggling to make Stede and Jack get along and like each other. He's trying to somehow combine his old life and his new life because he doesn't want to choose between one of them. He wants to have the best of both worlds. He wants his old friend and his new friend/his ex and his crush to be friends and get along. He wants to keep what was fun about traditional piracy (as represented by Jack) but also move on to Stede's new brand of doing things. He wants fancy breakfasts, and then has to realise that Jack pours alcohol into his teacup. He wants to play coconut war like the old times, but has to realise Stede hates the idea. A big part of this episode, from Ed's perspective, is about trying to reconcile these two worlds and failing.

Ed's main problem, through both seasons, is that he doesn't really know who he is or who he wants to be. He struggles massively with self-worth and self image. He views himself as an unlovable monster and spends his entire life bending over backwards and wearing masks to cater to what he thinks other people want him to be. He plays up Blackbeard for Izzy, Blackie for Jack, and he isn't sure if who he is being with Stede is actually Ed or not. Ed thinks nobody can possibly like him, so he constantly tries to perform to whatever expectation his direct peers have of him.

Next to this main crisis, Ed is having another secondary crisis called "fuck I'm in love with this guy" and "does my crush like me back". This secondary crisis is heavily influenced by the first, because Ed thinks he is a terrible unlovable person, remember, so "does this guy who I think is the bee's knees return my feelings" becomes a lot more fraud than it would be for a person with a modicum of self-esteem.

Ed, who struggles with "who/what am I as a person", sees Jack as a person who is similar to Ed. They have a lot in common. They share a lot of backstory. They are both pirate captains. They used to do the same things. Ed always played Yardies and Whippies and Turtle Vs Crab, because really that's just pirate culture. The main difference between Jack and Ed is that at some point Ed outgrew this life, and Jack didn't. But Ed, who is bad at recognising himself as a person and to define his identity, is only sorta vaguely aware of that. In Ed's perception, him and Jack are very much alike.

So when Stede, Ed's new friend and crush who he already thinks is too good for someone like Ed, starts rejecting Jack and Jack's behaviour, and says things like "I don't like who you are around this guy", what Ed hears is "I don't like who you are". Ed hears Stede thinks Jack is a bad person, and because in Ed's head a) he and Jack are the same and b) Ed is a bad person anyway, Ed hears "you are a bad person".

"You were always going to realise what I am", says Ed, as he is leaving with Jack after Stede tells Jack to leave the ship. Note the dehumanising "what" instead of "who" Ed used for himself. Ed, who thinks he sucks and is an unlovable monster, thinks this is the other shoe dropping, and he's been waiting for it to drop all along, because someone great like Stede isn't for a guy like Ed. Stede was always going to see what Ed is.

Ed's leaving the Revenge/Stede is 100% down to Ed's abysmal self-worth. It's a self-perception born from childhood trauma that fucks Ed over several times during the show (and ultimately leads to his suicide attempt).

Ed is so busy having All That going on that he mostly fails to notice that Jack is playing him, or what exactly happens between Jack and Stede, that Stede perceives Jack as a romantic rival for Ed's attention/affection or that Stede too struggles with self-worth and that Jack is hitting him where it hurts all the time. Ed's headspace in this episode isn't "oh, two sexy guys I like, which one should I choose to be with". It isn't even "oh my old pal is being a real dick to my new friend who is feeling really insecure here". Ed's headspace is "I'm a terrible person and Stede is seeing it now and Jack wants me to do more pirate party stuff but Stede hates that so now they both hate me and I probably deserve that because I'm a monster".

Ed leaves for Jack as much as Stede an episode later leaves for Mary. It's the exact same situation. For Stede, his own trauma and self-worth issues show up in the form of Chauncey Badminton, telling him he is a monster and ruins beautiful things, and Stede's reaction is to agree because he already thinks that of himself, so he takes his horrible ruinous monster self away from beautiful things (Ed) and back to where it belongs (to a miserable life he was hoping to leave behind). And for Ed, no Chauncey Badminton is required, because he's already constantly thinking these things about himself anyway. From Ed's perspective, Stede tell him he is a bad person (just as Jack), so Ed agrees and takes his horrible self away from beautiful things he doesn't deserve (Stede) to a miserable life he was going to leave behind.

Neither Jack nor Mary actually feature into the leaving much. Neither situation is "leaving the new guy for the ex". They're both situations of "I have a fuckload of trauma and self-hatred and it destroys my actually pretty nice new relationship".

And this is very interesting as a parallel. It doesn't even end there! When Stede returns, and Ed hears where he went, Ed too goes to "you left me for Mary". Same as Stede went to "you left me for Jack". And neither of it is actually what was happening!

Stede doesn't leave Ed for Mary, and Ed doesn't leave Stede for Jack. They both decide, driven by very similar trauma, to leave because surely the other one is going to be better off without them.

[ssa-dado]

5 - Antithesis

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: angst, slowest burn in history

Summary: The BAU tackles a complex case involving international victims and cryptic messages. Hotch’s growing insecurity intensifies as an agent returns from an undercover operation, revealing his close past with you. At the hotel, you and Hotch have a heated argument, exposing hidden vulnerabilities and unspoken boundaries between you two. Hotch struggles with his feelings of being just a replacement and questions his connection with you. Rossi confronts Hotch, encouraging him to be the partner you truly need.

Warnings: Usual CM case stuff, grooming (it feels to me, at least. To someone wouldn’t but idc), angst

Word Count: 6.1k

Dado's Corner: the dreaded chapter, I've been working on it for a week and still I'm not completely satisfied yet. I had to use another OC character, I'm sorry if you're bothered with that, but even if I hate him with all my heart he will be helpful in the future to narrate Y/N's backstory. If this broke your heart, synthesis might even more

previous part ; masterlist

Hotch’s gaze dropped, the weight of your accusations settling on him. “I thought that’s what was best,” he murmured, the admission almost painful. “I thought… I thought it was enough.”

●

It was yet another early morning at the BAU, and as usual, you walked into the office to find Hotch already at his desk, a cup of black coffee in hand, looking as composed and sharp as ever. No matter how early you tried to get in, Hotch always seemed to be one step ahead and especially today, you couldn’t help but comment on it.

“You know, Hotch, that’s 76 coffees you owe me now,” you said, dropping your bag on your chair and crossing your arms, pretending to be stern. “Maybe it’s time to rethink your strategy. You could try showing up late, just once. Shake things up.”

Hotch glanced up, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I could, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I have to keep beating you just to remind you of your constant failure.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the side of his desk. “Wow, Hotch, who knew you were this petty? I bet you’d stay up all night just to make sure you’d beat me here.”

He chuckled softly, not denying it. “Well, someone has to keep you grounded. Can’t have you thinking you’re invincible, partner.”

In the past couple of months, the term “Partner” had become a running joke between you two. Whether by design or coincidence, Gideon and Rossi kept pairing you together on cases, and even when they didn’t, you’d find yourselves seeking each other’s opinions anyway – you were desk mates after all, it was impossible not to rely on each other’s expertise. Yet the nickname stuck, a testimony that had made working together more natural than either of you could have ever predicted.

Your familiarity with Hotch’s desk arrangement had grown, too. You knew his precise system of organizing case files, the way he stacked them according to urgency, but today, something was different. As you glanced at his desk, your brows furrowed in confusion: the stack of case files was unusually tall, casting an odd shadow that didn’t quite match its usual shape. It looked as if something bulky was hiding underneath.

“Hotch, what’s with the fortress of case files?” you asked, pointing at the strange shadow. “Are you hiding something under there?”

Hotch hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t expect to be caught in the act. With a slight, amused shrug, he grabbed the files and lifted them off the hidden unknown object – or the unob - revealing a thick book on architecture history.

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “A World History of Architecture?! Didn’t take you for the type, I’m surprised.”

Hotch looked down at the book, his expression a mix of embarrassment and pride. “I picked it up after the Frank Lloyd Wright case,” he admitted, almost shyly. “That night we spent going over his designs at the library, I don’t know why but something about it stuck. I guess I wanted to know more. So I’ve been reading this during my ‘waiting for you to show up’ time.”

You smirked, leaning in to examine the book. “SSA Aaron Hotchner, secretly an architecture buff. Who would’ve thought? Next thing I know, you’ll leave the Bureau and go to architecture school, you would still owe me 76 coffees though.”

He scoffed playfully, closing the book and setting it aside. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to go that far. But it’s been... nice. You know - learning something just because I want to, not because I have to.”

You gave him a teasing nudge. “Hey, don’t underestimate yourself, partner - maybe one day you’ll be the next Frank Lloyd Wright of the FBI. Designing prisons, interrogation rooms, you name it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to profiling, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Just as you were about to tell him your kitchen needed some renovation – so he could start with something easy – an unexpected way-too-familiar voice interrupted from behind.

“Y/N!”

You turned around, and there was SSA Peter Rogers - one of your closest friends you ever had since you were fifteen - standing in the bullpen with his easy smile and that overly confident stance of his, just as you remembered him.

“Pete!” you exclaimed, a genuine smile spreading across your face as you rushed to hug him, the familiar warmth on your body you missed so much made you hold on to him a little longer. “What are you doing back so soon? I thought you were still overseas.”

Peter shrugged with a modest grin. “Operation wrapped up early. Figured I’d come back and see what kind of trouble you’ve been causing around here.”. That smile of his had the ability not to change one bit since the first time you saw each other, causing you to travel six years back in time.

▪︎

It was the first day of your mother’s Italian Literature class at the university. You were just fifteen, juggling between high school and university courses, your hunger for knowledge insatiable as a shield from what was daily happening between the walls of your own house. You always sat in the front row, scribbling notes furiously, letting your brain disconnect from reality in order to lose yourself in the lyrical beauty of Leopardi’s poetry.

Peter had been sitting a few rows back, finishing his degree in linguistics. He’d noticed you immediately, you were quite easy to spot as you were visibly way too young to sit in that room – and if it wasn’t enough, you made sure to ask at least a question to the professor, at least once in the lesson, always being deeply engaged with the material. Hence why after that particular class, he approached you with curiosity.

“Hey, you’re not the typical student, are you?” Peter asked, leaning against the desk beside you. “You’re taking university classes while still in high school? That’s quite impressive.”

You looked up, a little taken aback by his easy confidence but not put off. “Yeah, I’m kind of…double-booked,” you replied with a shy smile. “I just really love literature. My mom’s a professor here, so she lets me sit in when I can.”

Peter nodded, intrigued. “I’m Peter, by the way. Linguistics major. So you must be some kind of prodigy, huh?”

You laughed. “No, not a prodigy. Just…curious. I love philosophy, languages, psychology, all of it.”

The two of you clicked instantly, and since that encounter both of you would always exchange notes, in order to make sure none of you ever lost a word said in the class. Peter became a sort of unofficial mentor, “Have you ever thought about profiling? It’s all about understanding people, their languages, their motives. With your skills, you’d be amazing at it.” He asked one day after class.

That was the very day you learnt what a profiler was.

▪︎

Peter greeted Hotch with the same familiarity. “Hotch! Good to see you again, man. I missed having my desk buddy around.”

Hotch stood up, shaking Peter’s hand with a polite but reserved smile. “Welcome back, Peter. I heard about the undercover operation. You handled it exceptionally well, no one expected for you to come back so soon.”

Peter shrugged, his usual modesty in place. “Thanks, Hotch. It was a tough one, but we got the job done.” He immediately turned his gaze towards you “Y/N, who knew you would have stolen my desk too”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, glancing at the two of you briefly. That “too” echoed in his mind, the sudden realization just hit that there was more history between you and Peter than he’d previously understood, founding himself feeling like an outsider.

Peter, ever observant, caught the flicker of something in Hotch’s expression. “So you know Y/N? She’s one hell of a smart cookie,” he said, looking between you and Hotch with a teasing smile.

You rolled your eyes playfully, brushing off the compliment. “Oh, please Pete let’s not start with this just yet”

Peter laughed, leaning closer to Hotch as if about to reveal a secret. “Did she ever tell you she can sing? Like, really sing. She’s incredible. I’ve heard her at a few college events back in the day.”

Hotch looked at you, surprised, taking in this new piece of your past. “No, she never mentioned that.

You felt your cheeks heat up, flustered by Peter’s unexpected praise – especially because you were both standing in your workplace. “That’s because it’s not important,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory. “Besides, Peter’s just exaggerating. I’ve only been in the field twice with Hotch anyway, so there’s not that much to tell, most of my work has been here at the office.”

▪︎

A year ago, you attended a conference at the FBI Academy, and Peter was there as a speaker, discussing linguistic analysis in criminal profiling. It was the first time you’d seen each other in years, and the connection was immediate, even stronger than your days together at the university.

‘’Y/N is that really you?! You’ve grown so much you’re making me feel kind of old” Little did you knew that you would spend the entire evening catching up, sharing stories of your separate journeys still having in common your mutual love for the complexities of language and behavior.

“You’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” Peter told you as the two of you sat at a table, away from the noise of the main event. “I knew it from the moment I met you. You’ve got the mind for this work.”

You’d been touched by his confidence in you, feeling like the teenage girl he’d mentored all over again. “Thanks, Pete. But you’ve always been the one pushing me forward, I don’t know if I’d have chosen this path without your nudging.”

Peter’s smile was genuine, warm. “You would’ve found your way, Y/N. You always do.”

▪︎

The more Hotch listened to the two of you catching up, the more he felt that gap, as if Peter was pulling you back into a shared history that he hadn’t been part of.

Peter grinned, nudging you playfully. “Always aiming for perfection, huh?

You tried to brush it off, cheeks warming under their combined scrutiny. “Oh, please. That was a long time ago.”

Peter shrugged, turning back to Hotch. “But she hasn’t changed. I can see it in your eyes, you know?! Same drive, same brilliance. So, how’s she been doing? What cases has she solved?”

Hotch took a moment, his expression unreadable as he considered Peter’s question. “She’s been doing great,” Hotch said finally, his voice measured. “We’ve worked on a few tough cases together, a few high-profile cases. She’s brilliant, as you know, we’ve had our hands full. But it’s good to have you back - we can always use the extra help”

Peter nodded, his enthusiasm palpable. “Looking forward to jumping back in”

Before anyone could say more, Rossi approached, cutting through the atmosphere with his usual flair. “Well, looks like we’ve got our team for the day. Gideon’s out, so Peter, you’re coming with us. We’ve got a complicated case ahead, and I’d rather have all hands-on deck, we might be in desperate be of two linguists on this one”

Peter’s eyes flicked to you, then to Hotch, his smile never wavering. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The team’s arrival at the police station was met with a wave of unease that hung heavy in the air. The case they were stepping into was far from simple. Multiple international tourists had been brutally murdered, each crime scene marked by cryptic messages in different languages. This was a killer who thrived on complexity, and with every new clue, the puzzle seemed to grow more intricate.

Rossi led the team inside with his usual calm authority, his eyes scanning the room with the practiced ease of someone who had seen too many crime scenes in his career. Peter and Hotch moved in tandem, flanking him on either side as they entered the station. The moment they stepped inside, the chaos enveloped them like a wave crashing on the shore.

The police station was a flurry of frantic movement and tension. Officers darted between desks, paperwork scattered in their wake, and phones rang incessantly, demanding attention that no one seemed able to fully give. The space, clearly not designed to handle the intensity of a high-profile investigation, felt claustrophobic and stifling, the walls closing in under the pressure of a case spiraling beyond control.

The air was thick, not just with the stress that permeated the station but with the unmistakable grit of dust being churned by the old, neglected air conditioning unit overhead, blowing more dirt than relief, only adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Everyone was on edge, their nerves stretched thin by the weight of a situation they were ill-equipped to handle. Rossi could almost taste the desperation in the room, a palpable sense of urgency that clung to every officer as they hustled to keep up with demands they were never trained to meet.

Rossi exchanged a knowing look with Hotch, both of them wordlessly acknowledging the uphill battle they were about to face - not just against the unsub but against the limitations of a team clearly overwhelmed.

The lead detective, a grizzled man with a permanent scowl, approached Rossi, barely acknowledging the rest of the team. “Agent Rossi, we appreciate the Bureau’s help, but I hope you realize this is a time-sensitive situation. We’ve got international press breathing down our necks, and the mayor’s about ready to pull his hair out.”

Rossi nodded calmly, his authoritative presence immediately establishing control. “We’re here to provide a profile and assist in any way we can. What can you tell us about the latest victim?”

The detective began briefing but his eyes kept darting towards you, flickering with something between doubt and annoyance. Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m sorry, but are you sure you brought the right team? She looks like she should be at a college lecture, not a crime scene.”

The comment hit like a slap, and you felt the familiar burn of frustration flare up. You’d been here before, countless times, actually. You were used to your youthful appearance and academic background drawing skepticism, but that still didn’t make it any easier to swallow, especially in that particular case. Before you could respond, Peter jumped in, his voice carrying a mix of defense and pride.

“Detective, she’s not just some college student. Y/N’s one of the best linguists you’ll ever meet, and she’s cracked more complex cases than most agents twice her age. I’d trust her instincts over anyone else’s, any day.”

There was a quiet confidence in Peter’s words that seemed to force the detective to take a second look, though his skepticism remained stubbornly in place. Hotch, noticing the tension, stepped forward, his expression firm. “Agent Y/L/N’s skills are exactly what we need for this case. If anyone can figure out what the unsub is communicating, it’s her.”

The detective hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine, but we don’t have time for trial and error. Every minute we waste is another chance for him to strike again.”

“We’re all already aware of this, Detective. I’m sure you know that making my work any more difficult than it already is isn’t going to benefit any of us.” You finally had the courage to bite back.

As you settled into the briefing room, you felt Peter’s hand gently squeeze your shoulder, a silent but reassuring gesture as he said, “Don’t let it get to you.” You glanced at him, grateful for his unwavering support, and gave a small, determined smile in return. You were here to do a job, and you weren’t going to let some old-school cop’s doubts throw you off your game.

Once inside, the team gathered around the evidence board, covered in photos, maps, and printed copies of the unsub’s cryptic messages. Hotch and Rossi started dissecting the behavioral aspects, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the linguistic patterns.

Peter set up next to you, and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, just like old times. “This one’s in German,” Peter pointed out, highlighting one of the messages. “It’s a proverb that loosely translates to ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ but it’s the context that’s strange. He’s placing blame close to home.”

You nodded, your mind already racing through the implications. “And this one in French, ‘Nul n’est prophète en son pays’ - ‘No one is a prophet in their own land.’ He’s building a narrative where he’s the misunderstood hero, vilifying his victims in the process.”

Hotch watched from the corner of his eye, noting the seamless back-and-forth between you and Peter. It was clear that you two shared a deep understanding of each other’s thought processes, effortlessly piecing together the unsub’s motives and the cultural implications behind each message.

Rossi leaned over to Hotch, his voice low. “They’ve got something, don’t they?”

Hotch nodded, keeping his expression neutral even as a flicker of something uncomfortably familiar passed through him. “Yeah. They do.”

As you and Peter continued to dissect the messages, the detective returned with another dose of skepticism. “So, what’s the point of all this? We know he’s targeting tourists, but what’s the endgame?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his judgment holding yourself to punch him in the face, but Peter jumped in, his confidence never wavering. “The messages aren’t just random: they’re statements about identity, belonging, and betrayal. He’s targeting people who represent something he feels threatened by, probably linked to his own experiences.”

The detective was confused by the complexity of the message Peter was trying to communicate but at least he seemed less doubtful. Hotch and Rossi exchanged another look, Peter’s ability to not only support but elevate you was undeniable, and it left a lingering question in Hotch’s mind that he couldn’t quite shake, an unresolved history between you and Peter that was palpable to everyone in the room, even if no one dared to say it aloud. As the team continued to piece together the unsub’s twisted narrative, it became increasingly clear that the linguistic clues were the key to unlocking his motive.

“Here’s the first message,” Peter said, pointing at a wall covered in scrawled Italian text. “‘Chi semina vento, raccoglie tempesta.’ He’s quoting an old Italian proverb. It translates to ‘He who sows the wind shall reap the storm.’ Classic justification tactic. He’s blaming his victims for their own deaths.”

You nodded, running your fingers along the paper. “He’s using cultural proverbs to deflect responsibility. It’s not just about justifying his actions; he’s making a statement that he’s in the right, that the victims somehow deserved this.”

Peter smirked, recalling your sharpness from years ago. “You know, you’ve always had this annoying habit of being right. Remember that time back in your mom’s class? You corrected Professor Ricci about Dante’s theological influences.”

You laughed, half-embarrassed. “Oh, God, don’t remind me. I just couldn’t let it go.”

Peter turned to the others, Rossi didn't throw away his shot. "Remind us, Peter. I'm not going to let an opportunity like this slip from my fingers"

Peter jokingly cleared his throat. “Y/N stopped the guest professor right in the middle of the lecture and said,”

He made sure to pitch his tone up in order to mimic yours “While Dante’s work is often linked to the influence of Saint Augustine, we also need to remember that his beliefs were also shaped by the dominant philosophy of his time: Platonism, especially the Neoplatonists and Plotinus.’ The whole room was stunned, and Professor Ricci just stood there.”

Hotch couldn’t help but smile, picturing a younger version of you challenging a university professor with such confidence. Yet there was something more bubbling up in his blood, this was another glimpse into a part of your life he hadn’t seen, hadn’t known. It made him feel strangely out of the loop, like an outsider looking in.

Peter continued, still caught up in the memory. “You finished him when you also provided proof to support your thesis”

“Of course, how else was I supposed to-“

He immediately cut you off. “Early Christian thinkers adapted Greek philosophical ideas, particularly Plato’s concept of eternal forms from which the material world originated. This was quite convenient for the Christian theologians of that time, indeed this philosophical influence is evident in the biblical phrase - and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.' You had everyone in the room, including the professor, rethinking what they knew about Dante.”

You shrugged modestly, glancing at Hotch, who seemed both amused and thoughtful. “I wasn’t trying to show off. It just… bothered me that no one pointed it out – and because of that my mom forbid me to attend her class for two weeks straight. Pete, I’m still thankful for your notes.”

Hotch chuckled softly, meeting your eyes. “Some things never change.”

The team continued working for hours straight, but the frustration began to mount. Despite your and Peter’s best efforts, the linguistic puzzles refused to crack completely. The police officers were growing visibly impatient, and you could feel their skeptical glances as they hovered around the room.

One officer, who had been particularly dismissive, sneered as he walked by. “So, this is the genius team the FBI sent us? Still no answers?”

The comment hit harder than it should have, and for a moment, you felt the sting of self-doubt. Peter, noticing your silence, shot the officer a glare. “We’re not here to waste time, Detective. We’re here to solve this.”

Peter leaned closer to you, his hands grabbing your shoulders, speaking softly so only you could hear. “Don’t listen to them. We’ll get it, like we always do.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the creeping sense of inadequacy. Hotch watched the exchange, noting the way Peter seemed to know exactly how to lift you up when you needed it most. He wanted to say something reassuring himself, but the moment passed, leaving him feeling strangely sidelined.

The hours dragged on, and eventually, the team left the station to get some rest. At the hotel, Rossi and Hotch were assigned to share a room, while you and Peter were given the one next door. As you walked down the hallway, Rossi turned to Hotch with a pointed look.

“You know, Aaron,” Rossi said with a grin, “if I catch you working tonight, we’re gonna have words. You need sleep just as much as the rest of us. I’m serious when I say I’m a light sleeper, so I swear, if you keep me up with that damned desk light, you’re a dead man.”

Hotch gave a tight-lipped smile, appreciating Rossi’s concern – even if he expressed it in his own unique way - although he knew he’d never be able to turn his mind off. “Don’t worry, Dave. I’ll try my best.”

On the other hand, in your room, you and Peter settled in, and immediately surrounded yourselves by case files and coffee cups. You tried to solely focus on the work, but as the night wore on, the conversation drifted, after all it had been over six months since you’d seen each other, and there was a lot to catch up on. Peter leaned back, studying you with an easy smile.

“You’ve changed, Y/N,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “You’re still that perfectionist who can’t let a puzzle go unsolved, but… there’s something different.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “I don’t know about that. I’m just… trying to keep up, I guess.”

Peter reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear in a gesture that was both familiar and affectionate. “You’ve always been better than just keeping up. Don’t forget that.”

You found yourself caught between the comfort of Peter’s presence and the tug of unresolved emotions that you hadn’t quite figured out.

“Let’s go to sleep, shall we? I think we’ve done enough work for today” He winked at you as he placed his hand on the small of your back guiding you towards the bed.

“Oh don’t worry, you should sleep though. I think I might go down the lobby to clear my head for a bit.” You lied to him, but you couldn’t ignore your gut feeling telling you that there was something else you hadn’t considered yet.

Similarly, just across the corridor, the case weighed heavily on Hotch’s mind, and despite Rossi’s threat, he knew he wouldn’t rest until he’d figured out what was missing. Hours passed with Hotch lying in the dark, the puzzle pieces of the case refusing to align, finally, at nearly two in the morning, he couldn’t take it any longer. Careful not to wake Rossi, he grabbed his files and slipped quietly out of the room, making his way to the lobby to continue working.

To his surprise, he found you there too, hunched over a table with notes sprawled out, lost in concentration. You looked up when you heard him approach, unable to hide your surprise.

“Partner,” you said with a grin, noting his rare appearance in his white t-shirt, checkered blue pants pajamas, with the slippers provided by the hotel at his feet. “I’ve got to admit, this is new. Did Rossi finally threaten you into losing the suit?”

Hotch smirked, taking the seat across from you. “He did, actually. But desperate times, right? I didn’t think anyone else would be up.”

You chuckled, enjoying the casualness of the moment despite the late hour. Hotch spread out his files, his brow furrowing as he glanced over them. “I think there’s something we’ve been missing, there’s a pattern in the language choices. It’s not random. He’s escalating with each message.”

You leaned closer, your fingers tracing the messages. “You’re right. It’s chronological. He’s building something: a timeline, like each phrase is a step toward his endgame. It’s not just blame; it’s justification.”

Hotch nodded, grateful for the way your mind seemed to work so fluidly alongside his, especially in the late hours of the night. But as you continued to dissect the sequence, Hotch’s thoughts drifted back to earlier, watching you and Peter work so seamlessly together. The old familiarity, the easy way you bounced ideas off each other, it had been hard to ignore. And now, in the quiet of the night every sensation was amplified, especially the ones he’s been trying to brush off for the entire day, they stung a little more than he wanted to admit.

The ease of the moment was shattered when Hotch suddenly broke the flow of your thoughts with a wry comment. “You know, I’m surprised you’re even here working. I figured you’d be busy... catching up with Peter. He’s been flirting with you nonstop since he came back.”

You froze, your jaw tightening as his words sank in. The casual, almost careless tone hit a nerve, and you could feel a flicker of anger flare up inside you. “What’s that supposed to mean, Hotch?”

Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms, trying to mask the hint of frustration that was seeping through. “Nothing. Just an observation. It’s not like you haven’t been a little distracted since he got back.”

You stared at him, incredulous. The casual arrogance in his words struck a nerve, and before you could stop yourself, the frustration that had been building all day came spilling out. “You really think you know everything about me, don’t you? Just because we work together, you think you’ve got me all figured out.”

Hotch’s expression tightened, caught off guard by the sudden burst of anger. “That’s not—”

“No, let me finish,” you said sharply, your voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity. “You don’t know me, Hotch. You have no idea what I’ve been through or what I’m dealing with. You’ve worked beside me for months, calling me partner, acting like you’ve got me all figured out, but you don’t. You don’t know the first thing about who I am or what’s going on beneath the surface.”

Hotch opened his mouth to respond, but the sting of your words left him speechless. You were relentless, every word cutting through his composure. “You think just because we’ve been working together constantly, you’re entitled to know me? To judge me? But you know what, Hotch? You’re wrong. You don’t know a damn thing.”

Hotch’s jaw clenched, the carefully maintained façade he wore slipping for just a moment. “I’m not judging you,” he said, his voice low but strained. “I’m just trying to figure this out, okay?”

“Figure what out?” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “The fact that you’ve been constantly analyzing everyone around you while keeping yourself locked away? You think that you’re the only one capable of reading people like an open book? You act like you’re open and honest, but you’re not. You insist on wanting to be called ‘Hotch’ on the job by everyone, and you think I wouldn’t catch onto that? You do that because ‘Aaron’ is too personal and ‘Hotchner’ is too formal. You straddle the line because you’re scared to be either. You’re terrified of being too close to anyone, yet you don’t want to seem too distant. It’s like you don’t even know who you are.”

Hotch stared at you, your words hitting deeper than you knew. You had seen right through him, through the carefully constructed barriers he put up to keep everyone at a manageable distance. He didn’t know how to respond because, for once, someone had called him out on the one thing he feared the most: his own inability to truly connect.

“I keep things professional because it’s easier,” Hotch admitted, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of vulnerability. “Because it’s safe.”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Safe? You call this safe? You’re so busy keeping people out that you don’t even realize how much you’re missing. We’ve been partners at work, sure, but that’s all it’s ever been, right? Professional, compartmentalized, no mess, no feelings. That’s how you want it.”

Hotch’s gaze dropped, the weight of your accusations settling on him. “I thought that’s what was best,” he murmured, the admission almost painful. “I thought… I thought it was enough.”

You sighed, your anger waning but the hurt still fresh. “You don’t have to figure out anything, you said that yourself – I thought - It’s not enough for you Hotch, and not even for me.”

There was a long, heavy silence between you, both of you staring at the scattered papers on the table, as if the answers you sought could be found in the scrawled handwriting and cryptic messages. But this wasn’t something that could be solved with profiling or deduction. It was messier, more personal, and neither of you were sure how to navigate it.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “For making you feel like you’re just another piece of the job.”

You nodded, the tension easing but not entirely gone. “I appreciate your apologies but if you really want to change things up all you have to do is to agree to be vulnerable with me, that’s all.”

You turned your attention back to the case, pushing through the lingering discomfort to focus on what you could control. You worked in silence, each of you lost in thought, both aware that this argument had pulled something to the surface that couldn’t be ignored.

By the time you finally cracked the pattern in the unsub’s messages, the sun was beginning to rise.

As Hotch made his way back to the room at nearly 4 a.m., he was trying to be as quiet as possible, mindful not to wake Rossi. But as he slipped inside, he was met with the sight of Rossi already awake, leaning against the edge of his bed, arms crossed, his expression a mixture of amusement and disapproval.

“Couldn’t resist, could you?” Rossi’s voice was low but carried a playful edge, tinged with the knowing tone of someone who had seen this behavior from Hotch too many times before.

Hotch tried to hide his fatigue, rubbing a hand over his face as he set the files down on the desk. “It was important. I found something we missed. Had to double-check.”

Rossi’s smirk didn’t waver. “You found something, huh? Or did you just need an excuse to get out of this room and clear your head?”

Hotch stiffened, but he knew there was no point in denying it. “We figured out the sequence, the messages weren’t just random. They were chronological, like a timeline leading to his next target. We were close, but we couldn’t afford to miss it.”

Rossi nodded, his expression softening just a little. He knew Hotch was right; they were on a tight timeline with no room for errors. Still, he couldn’t resist teasing his friend. “You could have figured that out in the morning, Aaron. You can’t solve every problem by burning the candle at both ends.”

Hotch sat down on his bed, glancing at the clock, Rossi’s words lingered, cutting through the tension Hotch had been carrying all day. “I know. But you said it yourself—we can’t miss anything.

Rossi studied Hotch for a moment, his voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “You’ve been different since Peter came back,” Rossi said, watching Hotch’s reaction closely. “It’s like you’re working twice as hard, pushing yourself even more than usual. What’s going on?”

Hotch’s expression tightened, his usual stoic demeanor wavering under Rossi’s probing gaze. He knew exactly Rossi could read from his face what had just happened between the two of you. “I just… wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything,” he repeated, his tone defensive.

Rossi wasn’t buying it. He moved closer, sitting on the edge of his own bed, facing Hotch directly. “You’re not fooling me, Aaron. I’ve seen this before. You’re not just worried about the case. This is about Y/N, isn’t it?”

Hotch looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with the files on his lap. But Rossi’s words hit too close to home, and he couldn’t ignore the knot of emotions that had been building inside him since Peter’s return. “It’s not what you think,” Hotch said quietly, though even to him, it sounded unconvincing.

Rossi leaned back, giving Hotch a knowing look. “Look, it’s natural. You and Y/N have been working closely, you’ve got this rhythm. Peter comes back, and suddenly you’re reminded that you’re not the only one who clicks with her. But it’s not a competition, Aaron. You’re more to this team, and I’m sure you are to her as well, than a stand-in.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened. He had spent the last few months building a partnership with you, appreciating your insights and the way you challenged him. But Peter’s return had stirred up insecurities he hadn’t even realized he had.

“It’s not that,” Hotch said finally, though the weight in his voice suggested otherwise. “I just want to make sure we get this right. Peter’s good at what he does. It’s just… different.”

Rossi gave him a pointed look. “Different isn’t bad, Hotch. And you’re still you. You don’t have to prove anything: to her, to Peter, or to anyone else.”

Hotch nodded, though Rossi’s words did little to ease the knot in his chest. “Thanks, Dave. I know.”

Rossi watched him for another moment before standing up, his tone lightening as he made his way back to his bed. “Just remember, she was never looking for a replacement for him while he was gone. She’s looking for a partner. And you’ve already proven you can be that.”

Hotch lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Rossi’s words echoed in his mind, he knew he needed to get some sleep, but his thoughts were restless. It wasn’t just about the case anymore, it was about finding his place, about understanding what you truly meant to him beyond the walls of the BAU. As he finally drifted off, he promised himself that whatever happened next, he wouldn’t let his insecurities cloud his judgment. He’d be the partner you needed, and maybe, just maybe, he’d find a way to fit into your life outside of work, too. If you ever let him after today.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

*rattling the bars of my cage making feral growling noises* I love your writing so much and I love when you foreshadow/reference character traumas I love how you write characters I love how you write generally and I want to consume your writing the way a hippo consumes a watermelon

"What are we going to tell my brother?" you ask, laying on Logan's chest in the darkening bedroom.

"I'll figure it out," he snorted, kissing the hand that was holding his. Fuck worrying about Wade. For the first time in he didn't know how long, you were relaxed. And your heart rate seemed normal. He knew for a fact you'd had at least one good meal. And if he played his cards right, you'd eat dinner and sleep. "Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"He's gonna be pissed."

"Not for long," Logan said reasonably. "And not at you. He told me not to fuck you. He didn't tell you not to fuck me."

"Still."

"Still nothing. You pay your mother an allowance so he can play dead and he doesn't have to go home for Christmas," Logan scoffed. "Which is stupid, by the way-"

You raise your head and look at him, "So you wanna go meet my mom?"

"No."

"Then let sleeping dogs lie."

Logan felt his eyes narrow and he growled.

"It's easier," you tell him. "I don't want-" You break off and lay your head back down, "she likes me better at a distance. But doesn't figure that out until she's up in my face."

"Doesn't make it not bullshit."

"I know." You sigh, "But unless you want her here and- ugh. No. No thanks. It's bad enough watching other women flirt with you at bars. I think if I had to watch my mom do it I'd probably flip shit."

He snorted, "She's not my type. Or havin' my baby." He patted your backside and shifted your weight a little to be able to kiss your head. "So. Wade was your mom's favorite. Your dad wasn't around-"

"I was Wade's favorite- when he was around," you tell him. "But- he was just a kid too, you know?"

"He's still a kid," Logan scoffed. And from the sounds of it, you never were. Either sick or trying to hold the shards of the family together in your little hands.

"Lo-"

"I'll make it all work out," he soothed. And if he got his way, you weren't going to be paying your mother anymore.

[entiqua]

I love your artstyle!! Do you have any tips for drawing?

thank you so much! i'm really happy you like it!!💗 as for tips, what i would say would change drastically depending on what kind you're looking for, but some very general ones:

draw what you love and want to see most, regardless of whether anyone else wants to see it. if you don't enjoy what you're drawing it'll never come out as good or genuine as something your whole heart and soul is in. i mean you'd think this would be a no-brainer but sometimes i've had to sit back and ask myself 'if no one was ever going to see this except me, would i actually spend time drawing this?' and i was surprised by the answer

that said, it is also completely valid if your motivation for drawing is to draw for other people! there have been plenty of times where i was too artblocked to draw my own ideas but was still able to draw commissions or gifts and enjoyed it simply because making other people happy with my art makes me happy.

don't get too caught up in having a consistent art style. in my experience this 1000% hinders you

having your sense of anatomy degrade over time without you noticing because you keep drawing the same types of characters is a very real thing! if this is a concern to you be sure to draw a variety

follow a billion artists that you like the art of and you will have endless inspiration injected directly into your brain every time you open social media

my favourite practical tip for those who draw at a desk: keep a small mirror next to you at all times. absolute game changer for quickly referencing hands

if you're drawing digitally, make the canvas huge! in my experience this lets you draw messier/faster and you can't tell at all when you zoom out. if you tend to get stuck spending unnecessary amounts of time micromanaging pixels (me💀) keep it zoomed out while drawing

related to the above point, messy drawings can have far more expressiveness in them than neat and polished drawings. nowadays i never do lineart and go straight from 'barebones stickman pose' to 'varying-levels-of-coherent sketch' and use that as my lineart. sweet freedom from the sketch-looks-better-than-the-lineart phenomenon

if your goal is to improve, then you really do have to scrutinize your art, figure out what you're not satisfied with, and commit the time to focusing on it. 'practice makes perfect' kinda rubs me the wrong way because of how much i've seen it interpreted as 'just draw everyday and you'll magically improve' but genuinely it won't get you very far if you don't actively think hard about what you're trying to improve and take the steps to do it. is this a hot take idk. also hand in hand with this, not every artist is trying to improve and you shouldn't feel bad for this! maybe you just wanna make a little headshot doodle of your fave blorbo and that's your only drawing goal ever. awesome. maybe you know your art has flaws but it's passable enough to convey what you want and you're perfectly satisfied with that. (this is the stage i'm usually at). also awesome!

don't hesitate to draw something because you think it's out of your skill level. the worst that can happen if you draw it is that it comes out terribly but you learned something and can always redraw it better in the future. the worst that WILL happen if you don't draw it is that you'll never draw it. and then it will sit in the back of your brain haunting you for years. it's not like i'm speaking from experience or anything aha

look up 'hand stretches for artists' and do them if you draw a lot unless you wish to summon the wrath of the carpal tunnel demons

of course, these may not necessarily work for you, and most importantly(!) these are coming from the perspective of someone who is primarily a hobbyist. some of this won't be practical for people who need to build an audience, maintain a consistent style for work, etc. these are just things that have personally helped me over many years of drawing :)

[coolnighttimetravel]

Yandere Ten Stoneheart cult au x kind reader

CW: yandere themes, possessive and obsessive behavior, kind of suggestive (?).

Imagine an au where you have an issue with the debt. No matter how much you try to make money, you always end up broke. Poor thing, about to get sued by your annoying landlord.

Luckily, IPC noticed your struggle and decided to offer to work for them. You'll get a high payment and be able to pay your bills. All you have to do is to sign a contact and your wish will come true. At first, everything went fine. Untill, you meet with ten stoneheart. Oh, how adorable you are~.

While dating each other, Aventurine and Topaz also fall for you, due to your kindness and caring persona. Since day one, Numby already begins liking you, and later in a few days even becomes attached to you. It warms Jelena's heart so much that's two of you get along so well. Kakavasha feels accepted by you. Just like Topaz, you don't view him as the luck tool, but rather as the person. Every time, when they get injuries, you always stare at them with those adorable concerned eyes. A type of eyes, that's they want you to look only at them. Lately, they've been feeling jealous whenever someone even looks at you. You don't even imagine how much they desire to own you. To hide you somewhere safe and protect you from the cruel world.

Jade is someone you never got along with. Her cunning, sly, and manipulative personality never appealed to you. Yet, Jade has strange feelings towards you. The way you glare at her and coldly reply at her questions, make her attached to you even more. The purple haired women can't stop thinking about you. She wants to know every detail about your life. Your weakness, strength, interest, etc. Jade plans to convince you into making a wish. You can ask her everything you heart desire, but in return, you have to become her personal assistant. Wouldn't it be perfect to put a collar on your pretty neck? Turning you into an obedient pet, who'll do everything for their mistress. She'll assure you that your dependent life will become happy.

Sugilite is intrigued by you as a person. He’s amused how much you want to help people in need. Sugilite hates that you spend so much time with Jelena and Kakavasha. It would be much better if you become his house partner and make meals for him. And as the reward, Sugilite will always spoil you with the delicates. The silver haired guy it's greedy after all, and he'll never want to share what belongs to him.

Obsidian eagers so much to mark you. To bite your bare throat, so everyone knows to whom you'll belong to. The red haired lady would do ANYTHING to have you, even by murdering someone. Every time, when Obsedian think about you, it is usually the two of you bathing in the pomegranate juice. Getting held tight by her, so you'll never escape her grasp. Staying with her for an eternity no matter what!

When you finally realize their unhealthy obsession towards you, you try to end the contact with IPC. You thought you could escape? You poor naive thing. Didn't you read the contact? The one who signs it never escapes from IPC. After all, they'll always turn life into paradise for the miserable people. How can you leave them? If you do, your life will be even worse before joining them. Without IPC, you're not able to survive.

But don't you worry, ten stonehearts will give you another option. Aventurine and Topaz will keep you secure, Jade will make your life richer by depending on her, Sugilite will feed you even more than in your entire life, and Obsidian, well there are secrets that she still keeps for the surprise… Sooner or later, you'll realize that you will be much better under their wings. After all, they'll turn your life into eternal bliss.

I might make it into the series and add other characters, once we'll know more about them. I will write platonic for Opal, though. If you're not shy, you're welcome to give some ideas. However, I will respond slowly since I'm busy.

[wmnwntmefshfrme]

I FINISHED THEM. I DID IT. WOOHOO (crying)

design notes:

Yaira: nothing changed

Estrella: dead mom ponytail gone </3 i only did it in the og drawing of her bc its funny

Robin: ROBINNNN. IM SO SORRY I FORGOT THE PUFF BUNS UUEHEHHHHH- anyway, when i was planning out the designs for the other named npcs, i was like "why the hell are there so many gingers" so i made her have blue hair :3 to match with her confidence stat :3 also gave her yellow/orange eyes instead of green bc there were also a lot of green eyed npcs

Sydney: SKUNK HAIR. I DUNNO HOW I FORGOT ABOUT THAT YUMMY DYE STYLE. SYDNEY IM SORRY. i completely forgot i wanted to still have her natural hair (also just made pink bc teehee i like whimsy) to show

Whitney: not much changed besides the hair style. completely forgot i wanted her to be super gyaru OTL. gave her cheek piercings bc they're cute :3

Kylar: i lowkey started to not like how i did her hair originally and then came across all the sketches i made for the LIs and was like FLUFFY KY :3 ofc had to keep the emo bangs :3

Avery: nothing changed LMAOAOA

Great Hawk: FEATHER HAIR. I FORGOT I MADE A SKETCH FOR FEATHER-LIKE HAIR FOR HER. IM MAD AT MYSELF.

Black Wolf: not much changed, just made her hair longer bc why not

Alex: not much changed, just made he hair more of a red red, darkened her skin, altered her bangs, and changed the color of her bandana. still wanted to keep her looking like a cutie patootie

Eden: I ACCIDENTALLY GAVE HER A GIANT FOREHEAD THE FIRST TIME AND I DIDN'T MEAN TO SOBBING. not much changed though, just made her hair darker and have a green tint to it. look im trying to make my designs have lots of whimsy

Quinn: you can tell with Quinn LMAO. i just felt like she needed to have a distinct look since she's a special npc n all :3 classic purple and green color scheme for a shady character

Bailey: i'm gonna be honest, i was originally gonna go with a mean asian mom look for Bailey but then i was like "....what if muscle mommy"

Remy: i wanted her to look like a little shit. that's all

Briar: tried to go for a bit of a Jessica Rabbit and Rarity type aura. i really like her design and she could put me in the underground brothel any day :3 /j

Leighton: just an old hag, nothing special

Harper: wanted to make her look a little inhuman??? i think i got it with how dead her skin looks idk. also wanted her to look like a little shit

Landry: here's where the asian mom look went. i like her and Mickey's dynamic and they both just look like regular people (better for crime)

Sirris: Sydney if she was older. idk what else i should've done lol

River: old lady :3 hot old lady :3c (pt 1)

Doren: i wanted her hair to look fluffy as hell

Winter: old lady :3 hot old lady :3c (pt 2)

Mason: SEAWEED HAIR. that's all

Charlie: wanted to embody :3c

Darryl: she's very cutie patootie to me so i made her a cute patootie

Sam: wanted her to look like candy kinda. idk :3

Niki: i only made her hair a little longer and no weird two layer thing for the short portion

Zephyr: wanted her to look smug and also kinda cute???? idk, i didn't really have a vision for her

Jordan: also didn't really have a vision for her, but it did want her to gave similar eyes to Quinn

Gwylan: her i did have a vision for :3c she's a cutie patootie, that's all :3

Wren: thought a side shave would make her look cooler

Mickey: hairstyle changed a little. other than that, not much changed

Morgan: still a wet rat

Ivory Wraith: nothing changed (they have special eyes tho)

[pomefioredove]

Heyy!!! I really liked the young reader (13-14) telling the OB crew that they see them as an authority figure. Can you do it with the first year's please? I hope this doesn't go against any rules thank youu!!!

assuming this is similar to this, which has ace and deuce, so I'll just write for the others :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ brotherly (encore)

type of post: headcanons characters: jack, epel, sebek additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Having been torn from your home, separated from your family and friends, and spit back out in a new place with new people, isn't really as fun as it sounds.

After months at NRC, though, you've managed to make yourself a life here. A new home, new friends, even new family.

Now, sitting close to the person you've become fondest of, you let slip that you seem him as a brother.

His reaction?

should not have said that to Jack. it's not that he doesn't like it, it's that he really does. he puts a lot of value on family, after all, and even before you said this, he considered you a part of his own. this just makes it feel real

now, he just will never leave you alone. making sure you stay out of trouble, insisting on carrying your things and helping with your homework, living for your happiness. it's sweet, maybe a little overbearing, but I suppose that depends on how you look at it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you and Epel had always been close. even Vil and Rook have commented on how the two of you are practically inseparable- it was only a matter of time before someone said it

is- is he crying? of course not!!! he's not some sap!! just 'cause you told him he's your best friend and you look up to him as a brother, which is affirming in its own way, doesn't mean 'nothin! he just has something in his eye!

(he's completely over the moon)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sebek has always been the one to look up to others, not the other way around. his first reaction is to tell you that you should be praising Malleus, or perhaps Lilia, not him. you're wasting your breath!

of course, he thinks about it all day, and then some. it's just that you think he- the youngest of the group, the very last to get his magic- is someone worth looking up to? could it be possible that you hold the same affection for him that he does for others?

and when you confirm, he can't help feeling a little smug

he vows to use his skill as Malleus' guard to protect you both

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Luo Binghe would be the person who finds out the existence of the Seme/Uke dynamic(probably from spying on SQQ and SQH's conversations) and would fall all over himself in tears when he hears that Shen Qingqiu quite likes the Bad Boy Seme and the Sweet-Faced Uke types of characters pretty well. Especially when he declares his favorite kind of Uke is the kind who is sweet and gentle, and Binghe comes to him crying and swearing, "Shizun, I am totally an Uke!"

"Binghe, you aren't an Uke just because you found out that I think your crying face is pretty, and you turn on the tears any time you want to get your way."

And Binghe thinks of what they said the Uke tends to do in the relationship, and he insists, "But I can be! I've been begging for Shizun to fuck me for ages!"

"Wanting to bottom now and then does not an Uke make, Binghe!"

And here comes Shang Qinghua like, "Well, he is emotionally sensitive, incredibly affectionate with you, and emotionally vulnerable around you at all times. Who can say whether or not we can't have World-Conquering Uke Beefcakes? Do they all have to be small and cute?"

And Binghe's eyes begin to shine with hope.

"Don't encourage him! He's a Seme because deep down, Binghe isn't really submissive in any way, he just orchestrates things to get what he wants in any given moment and lets others think they're in charge. He's a Bad Boy Seme and that's final!"

And while Binghe is heartbroken over his nonexistent Uke status, he can be relieved that he's still Shizun's type when it comes to being a Seme. And who has the right to say a Seme can't be on the bottom now and then?!