#integrating worked for me but that's only because i probably have one of the most robust support systems can really have

[emo-batboy]

Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal

(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)

Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.

He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.

So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.

But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League

It starts out with a friendly visit :)

Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.

He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.

It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.

“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”

Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can’t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.

Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.

Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”

“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.

But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.

She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.

Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.

And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.

Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.

They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.

Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?

If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.

They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!

So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.

But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem

Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.

And “make friends?” They’re all masked

But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham

(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)

And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.

Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.

They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.

And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.

Not all of them are appreciated.

Attempt #1: “Making Friends”

After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.

Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?

Write A Mission Statement

What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.

And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.

To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.

Every turn, he is argued with.

“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”

Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”

Bruce already regrets joining.

All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.

“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”

Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.

The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)

But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)

Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.

He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.

That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.

Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.

Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.

He is the youngest by ten years.

Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.

So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.

And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.

He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?

But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤

(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)

The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.

One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”

Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”

One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”

Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.

(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)

Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.

God, he just wants to go home.

Why is he doing this again?

Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends

The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.

He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)

“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”

Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”

Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.

One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.

Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.

In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.

A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.

(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)

And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.

He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.

It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)

And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad

So they stop moaning and groaning

Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!

Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??

One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.

(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)

(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)

Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”

Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.

(He likes older men.)

(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)

(Sue me.)

(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)

(Coward.)

One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.

They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)

One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier

“Wait…is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.

(The answer is yes.)

A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.

In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??

Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.

They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.

Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”

Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”

The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board

Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.

A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.

Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.

And, of course, they play FMK at some point.

(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)

During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:

Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:

He tried

Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?

The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.

Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.

Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.

But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—

Takes off his cowl.

And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.

Then, “Oh fuck.”

(That was Green Lantern.)

Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.

He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.

The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”

The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.

He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)

“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.

Meanwhile, the others are like—

Oh. My. God.

Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.

And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.

Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.

Sue her.

They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF

And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)

He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”

The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”

No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies

They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.

(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)

They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:

(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)

At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”

Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.

Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.

For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.

After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”

Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”

They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.

(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)

Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.

But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.

They learned a lot about their friend that night.

And they have a lot of bets to cash in.

FIN

Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)

Hey bestie @bruciemilf

[ryoki-ph]

i'm so much integrated and chillin it finally feels fuckin GREAT to be one person for me honestly. thought dump in all atags

[probablybadrpgideas]

THINGS I AM UNREASONABLY ANNOYED ABOUT BY GAME SYSTEM

D&D: Please put a disclaimer that you are not a universal system. Every time I see someone try to do a political mystery game in D&D, I take 3d10 psychic damage and have to make a death saving throw.

Pathfinder: Look. If i wanted to play a game about fighting Cthulhu there is an extremely famous game specifically designed around doing that. Literally no-one is ever going to say "Wow, I want to play a Cthulhu themed game! Time to stat up a musical halfling from a magical fantasy land!".

Chronicles Of Darkness: Just admit no-one uses any of your rules. You have Social Door Rules and Integrity Conditions and Corruption Levels and I bet at most 50% of COD players could tell me which of those I made up. Just admit people aren't dressing up as Alucard The Bringer Of Shadows because they want to sit down and do calculus.

World Of Darkness: You know that old guy who's still doing his job even though he is way too old to do it any more, but he's now an institution so you can't get rid of him? Like that. The 90s called and they want literally everything about this back.

Call Of Cthulhu: I appreciate the commitment to authenticity, but maybe stop hiring actual disgraced mental asylum directors from the 1920s to design your sanity system?

GURPS: Look. Look. Listen. We both know that you just want to write history textbooks. These are history textbooks with a few stat blocks begrudgingly put in. If you just give me a book on early Chinese history I will read it and go "ah, very interesting!". You don't need to put in a list of character choices. We're all nerds. We'll read them. Live your best life.

Powered By The Apocalypse: I actually can't think of anything wrong with PBTA. That's not a bit, this is literally the perfect system. Take notes everyone else.

Mutants and Masterminds/Heroes System: Your systems have probably the most customizable character creation in the world and you both just make reskins of the Justice League over and over again. Maybe we only need one "thinly veiled copyrighted characters" setting? You can fight over it once you decipher your combat mechanics.

FATE: Ok I won't lie, I have no idea how the fuck FATE works. I have read the rules repeatedly and played three games and I still have no idea what invoking an aspect means. I don't know why. I grasped the rules of fucking Nobilis but this one just psychologically eludes me. This is more a problem with me I guess, but I'm still annoyed.

Warhammer 40k: Have you considered spending less on avocado toast? Then you might be able to afford to charge less for things?

Exalted: Apart from the lore, the setting, the mechanics, the metaplot, the character creation and the dodgy narrative implications, I can't think of anything to improve here.

[etherealising]

chapter one | a berzatto family christmas

masterlist | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.

warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )

semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (

wc: 4.7k

You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.

The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.

Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?

You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.

That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.

Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.

You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?

The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.

It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.

It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.

Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.

You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.

You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.

He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”

You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”

You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”

The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”

You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.

“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.

“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.

He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.

“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.

It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.

It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.

“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.

“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.

Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.

He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.

The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.

Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.

Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.

He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.

Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.

If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.

You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.

A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.

The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.

As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.

Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.

You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.

Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.

You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.

Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.

You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.

Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.

next chapter ↣

a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!

also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.

[yuri-is-online]

Here's a short list of things that I think would affect yuu (not from an omegaverse world) being in twisted wonderland (omegaverse au)

The scent thing. In my mind, everyone has a scent, including betas, theirs are just weaker. So how would Yuu, who has no scent, be classified? Would ortho or idia want to study them and see what's different between twst folks and earth folks? Scent is usually just noted in smut scenes, but it does have a larger role in most a/b/o stories. Mainly, it's how people communicate emotions. If you're happy, it shows in your scent. If your distressed, it shows in your scent. If your scared, excited, horny, anxious, it shows in your scent. People probably focus on scent when it comes to emotions before they focus on your face or body language. So figuring out what Yuu is feeling is probably a lot harder. It's even worse if Yuu isn't that expressive in the first place. Although it does make me wonder about how people try to hide their scents when their trying to be aloof or stoic...

Noises. This also ties into emotions, the more extreme ones at least. A/b/o twst people purr when their happy or content and growl when they're feeling territorial. Yuu might be able to growl, not very well but whatever. But purring? Yeah no. Not happening. Bless Jades heart he's trying so hard to give Yuu gifts they like and listening for a purr and it just. Never comes. Also imagine being Yuu and you're just getting growled at on a daily basis that's just gotta suck lmoa

Warnings for menstruation and omega heats 🤩 (also jade thinks his partner got SAed so HUGE TW). I personally think that TWST doesn't have periods. Mostly because I read Period Drama series by twstfanblog and was like "Yeah sure I'll integrate that into my belief system". So Yuus under a lot of stress right? Especially those first few months and overblots, so I think it's safe to say that an AFAB Yuus cycle would probably skip over those few months or even a year until everything calms down. And then boom! Ovulation! Jade thinks it's a preheat or a heat and is trying SO HARD to be respectful because they did not talk about this before hand and he doesn't know if he's aloud to "help" them the way he's wants to. Doesn't exactly help that Yuus throwing themself at him every step of the way and asking shit like "Hey if we have kids what would you name them :D?". Yuu is killing him. All in all though, it's a pretty subdue heat, they're not confined to their nest (a messy pile of pillows, blankets, and cushions that they impulsively made in Ramshackle one day) or anything, they can go to class and move around just fine (he doesn't let them though. He doesn't need any perverts possibly getting off or fantasizing about something only he should be fantasizing about), and unfortunately, they're not keeping him in their nest and letting him breed them until they forget their own name, so it all worked out just fine. And then about a week later, he goes to Sam's first thing in the morning to buy more snacks and comes back to the strong scent of his loves blood, only to find out that blood was coming from "the void" and they're curled up in pain, and crying. Yeah that was the worst moment of Jades life, actually. 0/10. Would not recommend. He almost killed several people that day 👍

Nests. Yuu doesn't know what the hell a "nest" is or why Jade freaked out so hard with joy when they made their shitty little pillow fort but hey! At least he's happy! Look at him! Just vibrating with joy! While he's sitting just outside the fort and is just... staring at them..... Is he not gonna come in? So now their scooching over and awkwardly patting the spot next to them- and Jades eyes just dilated SO HARD ok

Ruts and knots. The Fun Shit. Jade asked (very flusteredly) if Yuu would be willing to help him through his upcoming rut and Yuus like 🧍👍🧎. And it's a lot more intense than they were expecting. Bro is looking a half step away from feral as he carries Yuu over to the "nest" and just let's go fully shortly after they start. And Yuu is throughly enjoying it but also- isn't this a little much?!It's just a week of a bad Coleen Hoover novel where all they do is have sex and sleep! They ain't built for this! Honestly, they're just a doll for him at this point because there is not a THOUGHT behind those eyes expect for Jade and his dick and they ain't even mad about it!

That last section wasn't a question I was just thirsty. Damn this ask got long as hell shit.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH bless you. My lifespan... my strength... it is returning 2 me.

I think a lot of this could be cleared up with some communication, but at the same time poor Yuu wouldn't know what they were supposed to be communicating.

If scents are reflective of emotion and how people communicate, I would think they reflect people's personalities in the same way facial expressions do? So a particularly stoic person (like say Silver) would have a much more muted scent when he's happy than someone who is much more expressive (like Kalim.) Of the people who would be most distressed by Yuu's lack of scent, I think it would actually be Riddle since I could see him thinking it is a medical issue they need to get checked out ASAP. It would certainly isolate them from their peers even more than not being a mage would, making them a real alien as far as most people in Twisted Wonderland would be concerned.

Now. Jade. My beloved. I think after he manages to successfully court Yuu he would be very smug about this because he would be maybe one of the only people in Twisted Wonderland able to pick up on Yuu's unique body language. But that's in the future, now he's struggling because on top of no scent there's no purrs D:< He's fantasized about what it would sound like sosososososo many times and he is worryingly close to realizing that he's not above begging. He just wants some praise from his chosen mate... please...

lmao about the growling I just would not be able to take that seriously and probably make some dumb comment that would get my ass beat. But if it was really loud that would stress me out.

... oh poor Jade. In my head I am thinking of Yuu maybe having been told by a (concerned) adeuce that Jade is attempting to court them so they start trying to reciprocate (which does not help anyone's concerns) but they haven't really talked about what exactly that means yet. So by the time Yuu starts ovulating they're still in what Yuu might consider to be a "talking" phase? Because Jade hasn't asked to make things official? Whereas Jade is simultaneously on cloud nine planning the wedding and in the depths of despair wondering how best to continue his courtship efforts because oh he wants to help you with your heat so badly :c he's in a permanent state of horny grip the entire week and so tense. Yuu wonders if it would be too much to offer to help him relax since they aren't all that close yet so they figure they'll ask him some questions to see how he reacts and all that and he is extremely receptive but he still doesn't make a move, even if he does insist on talking to them around the pillow fort a lot?

Speaking of the pillow fort... I'm just picturing Jade sitting so pretty and heavy breathing while Yuu is sat there very confused because he is buzzing with excitement but they can't tell what kind. Man relationships are real hard so is jade when you add in alien biology and customs to them please let him help you hope you aren't doing something wrong? you could never please please please just one chance Yuu one chaaaaance

The period stuff... I don't think my mind would jump to SA but certainly some sort of attack and Jade being Jade, he would not let that stand. Thankfully no one actually gets hurt since Jade asks Yuu for names and they have a very strange conversation about reproductive biology. Oh so you are bleeding because you aren't pregnant? Well that sounds like such an easy fix~ And is probably when you finally have that talk about how horny he was all last week because he asks, very earnestly asks to help you through your next "heat" so you don't have to endure this pain again.

Since you were being thirsty allow me to share some of my... thoughts (￣▽￣||)

I feel like Jade would want to take Yuu in his merform at some point if not first because he wants them to think about it. He wants to ruin them for anyone who is not very specifically him and he is not shy about it, but alas the omega decides where to build the nest and you chose "poorly." Yuu is getting their guts rearranged while Jade bullies them about their poor nest building skills. It's ok, he just finds you so cute maybe he'll walk you through it next time? Sure he's never had to build a nest, never felt the need but he's sure if you follow his instructions nice and slowly you'll do just fine.

You wind up in Ramshackle's tub more than once. Just don't complain about not being able to remember most of it because he'll just take that as you wanting a redo. Say less, he's been good for too long anyway *smack*

[torhues]

osamu miya.

"what do you think is the right way to ask someone out?" osamu's sudden question draws out your attention from your english assignment.

you take a moment to think, and while he thinks you're sorting out the most appropriate answers to his question, you're lost looking the answer to just one question that's plaguing your mind : should you tell him, or not?

"uh, who is it for?" you settle with the conclusion that he's asking that question out of curiosity. after all, you both are at an age where romance gradually becomes an integral parts of almost everyone's life.

out of all the years that you've known osamu— which is for around seven years for now— there has been only one time when you've seen him pursuing someone, and that was your best friend in middle school; and like the good friend you were, you helped the two of them confess to each other. you would walk to school and back, watching them holding hands, make plans without you because they were dating and it was understandable. you didn't mind, not at all, for you weren't in love with him at that point.

looking back now, you wonder if things would've turned out different if you hadn't helped your friend, or if you had realised your feelings a bit earlier. back then, you found it amusing to watch two people in love act like idiots, not knowing it'd all come back to you with a much larger impact.

"someone i like," he replies in his classic monotonous voice, as if he couldn't care less about not telling you who he has a crush on. it's exactly how it was back in middle school. had it not been for your friend, you wouldn't have known she was the one osamu had been planning to ask out all along. "goes to the same university as us, might even be in your biochem class,"

and your mind traces over the image of every single person in your class, crossing out the names that don't seem to fit osamu's taste in romantic partners. it's not the first time you're doing this. in fact, you've gotten used to figuring out whether he would be interested in someone just by looking at them. it's something you've learnt as you got better at hiding your feelings.

you've known him long enough to know who he might date yet still, couldn't bring yourself to believe that you could possibly have a chance with him.

"well, i can't tell you if i don't know the person," something about you makes osamu believe that you're a cupid. you're good at reading people, welcoming, albeit not so good at reaching out to strangers, but you are likeable, more than likeable, actually.

he has seen you set people up, including himself, and excluding yourself. the reason why you're not interested in pursuing someone anymore is beyond his comprehension. you have your fair share of knowledge about relationships, have dated a couple of guys before giving up altogether. it's not like your relationships didn't work, but it always seemed as if you were better off without them.

even while dating, it looks like your eyes are looking for someone else while being in someone's arms.

he sighs, putting down his phone. "just tell me what you like, people aren't much different after all,"

"uh, well, i hate public confessions and people who confess through calls and texts," which stands true for most the people out there. public confessions are more of a show off and confessing through texts is just, not enough. "also, i like to stay at home or be at some cafe so like, arcades, amusement parks and places like those aren't up to my liking either,"

you notice the smile on his face, along with the dreamy eyes and make him look prettier than he already is. frankly, the idea of osamu doing everything you like to ask someone else out hurts more than it should. you're probably not the only persons with those likes and dislikes. you know you should be happy for him and the person he likes because in the end, osamu is everything you, or anyone, could ask for.

"what about flowers? lilacs?" he asks, getting back to his phone.

"what are you doing, congratulating someone on their graduation?" his lips instantly curve into a frown, and you know in his head, he's snickering about how he is not the best when it comes to picking flowers, and that you shouldn't make fun of him for this. "i'd say tulips, they're a better gifts for first dates and confessions,"

one day, back in first year of university, osamu asked you why you don't seek relationships anymore. thinking about it now, you never gave him an absolute answer.

on some days, the answer would be academics, other days, it would be sadness looming over your shoulders after watching your ex with someone else. sometimes, you would excuse it by saying it's a waste of time and when asked when you're drunk, you'd say it's because you already have someone in mind, someone who can't be yours, no matter how much you try.

on some days, you wonder if osamu ever thinks about all the answers, or excuses, you gave to his question. there are times when the worlds makes compels you to believe that osamu likes you back, but then you realise that if he did, he wouldn't have asked out others all this time. you did drop hints regarding your feelings for him, and he failed to catch on for he for too busy looking at everyone except you.

"i wonder why you don't date anymore," the question arises again, flooding all the memories back into your head.

"i did have someone i liked, but he likes someone else," and you realise you can't lie to him anymore. "so, i gave up," osamu finds it amusing how you say those words with a smile, and he finds it despairing knowing that now, you've simply learnt to live with pain while pretending to be okay.

he shoots you a comforting smile, "i hope that wouldn't be the case for me,"

"me too," and you smile back.

he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket while offering soft apologies for the state your bed is in because of him. sometimes, you feel like there should be a warning for everyone who dates him : caution, this man doesn't know how to keep the bed clean. there are nights when you go to sleep thinking about how you're probably the only one who can keep up with this habit of his, and then wake up realising that it wasn't a problem to anyone it now so, it wouldn't be in future either.

it's like oscillating between the possibility and impossibility of him and you, caressing your little heart with false hope.

"ah, what should i say while confessing?" he shoots another question, making you snicker in annoyance.

"c'mon 'samu, you're not asking someone out for the first time,"

"just tell me,"

and you allow yourself to get lost in thoughts again. for a brief second, you consider telling him to not confess. the reason? your feelings, but again, you and him aren't meant to be together in the first place. it's just like how the saying goes— cupids must not fall in love— and you did the forbidden, knowing it would hurt you ten folds more every time you tie his threads with someone that's not you.

"i don't know, just give the flowers and ask if they'd like to go out with you or something," he chimes a faint thank you before leaving your room, and then your apartment. this time, you don't walk up to the door to see him off, neither do you wish him good luck, and surprisingly, osamu doesn't seem to notice your minute absence either.

it's fine, you tell yourself, one of you has to start getting accustomed to the other's absence. while the process has already begun for you, you hope osamu gets used to it as well. you need him to stop reaching you out for relationship advices because you don't know how long you can compose yourself before shattering once again. you try to distract yourself with essays due next month or even further, reading chapters that haven't been taught in class, reading research papers; just anything that can keep your mind off osamu.

you don't want to think about him, or what he's doing. maybe, he's buying the flowers, making preparations or calling his crush and asking them to meet him at their favourite place. even better if his crush confessed while he has been preparing a proposal of his own, it would be cinematic. you don't want to think about him at all, but the more you try, the deeper he engraves inside your mind.

the evening rolls by with you still sitting at your study desk with a bunch of papers lying around a not one complete work. there are rain splatters on your windows and you hope the off-season showers haven't ruined his confession. you can't wish for the other person to like him back, so you just wish for his happiness; whatever makes him happy, even if it means pushing him away.

and when you manage to drag yourself to the kitchen to grab something to eat and make yourself feel better, the sound of your doorbell hits your ears. the rain hits harder, you muster up the energy to walk up to the door.

there's osamu standing with a love sick smile and slightly wet hair, along with rain splatters on his shirt, and the bouquet of tulips in his hand. "will you go out with me?"

[lonigiri]

anton nsfw alphabet

minors dni

a=aftercare: hes so sweet, gives you kisses and cuddles, cleans you up a little bit but not anything big, just gets some tissues but he loves after sex cuddles

b=body part: his favorite body part on himself is probably his height (ik its not like a part stfu) he loves the size difference between himself and you. his favorite body part on you is probably your neck, his head is always burried in your neck giving you kisses and sucking hickies 🤭

c=cum: he just loves to cum. thats it thats the tweet/hj. hes just so happy to have someone that loves him enough to be this vulnerable with him and he cant hold himself back from cumming he feels like hes gonna cum his pants whenever he sees ur pretty tits 😣

d=dirty secret: he wants to ask one of the guys (preferably wonbin or sohee bcs they wouldnt make fun of him) to have a threesome with you and him because he thinks ur too pretty to just have you to himself, he wants to see how good his members can fuck you

e=experience: he wasnt very experienced before you, you were probably his first or second, but you helped teach him how to touch you nice and good to make you finish

f=favorite position: probably just missionary, he loves being on top of you and seeing how tiny you are compared to him, also loves burrying his face into your neck. if he wanted to switch it up he'd probably let you ride him

g=goofy: probably 50/50 hes honestly too busy whimpering to be funny

h=hair: anton strikes me as the type to be basically fully shaved, he just doesnt like how the hair looks on him

i=intimacy: he doesnt strike me as the type to have fast/rough sex, sure if he has some like pent up anger he will fuck you but if its just a normal tuesday he likes to have slower sex, but if you asked him to be rougher he will oblige

j=jack off: anton was so scared to ask you for sex during your relationship, yall would be making out and he'd pop a boner and he'd excuse himself to the bathroom and rub one out (which was very apparent to you because the walls were thin and you could hear him moaning) but now that you guys actually have sex he doesnt really masterbate anymore, only if hes away from you for a long time

k=kink: he def has a size kink, watching how ur belly buldges when he bottoms out inside of you turns him on so so much he could just cum right then and there tbh

l=location: he just likes the bed, nothing crazy, sometimes the shower if you ask him to shower with you

m=motivation: bro gets turned on by everything and anything, the slightest touch to him hes on the verge of getting bricked. but its only for you, you make him feel such a special way the no one else could 🥰🥲

n=no: just anything thats hurting you, sure he might accidentally hurt you with his dick and being too eager but he always feels so bad. he could never hurt you on purpose 💔

o=oral: anton is a MUNCH and i stand by that, he LOVEEESSSS eating pussy so much. he gets sooo pussy drunk when hes between ur legs omg. when you first asked him to eat u out he was very skeptical, now he basically claws at ur pants to get them off so he can eat you nice and good like u deserve

p=pace: like i said earlier he enjoys slow sex a lot more then rough/fast sex. he will go fast/rough if you ask him to, he just probably wont last as long 😣

q=quickie: hes iffy on them, doesnt really enjoy them bcs he likes to take his time with you. but if you have limited time to have sex he will have one just wont be very happy abt it

r=risks: doesnt really take risks, he knows what works and he sticks to it

s=stamina: he does not have a very high stamina, can probably go for at the very most 3 rounds and even by then hes like dying

t=toys: you have a viberator that you've integrated into your sex and he has a cock ring 😵‍💫

u=unfair: he doesnt really tease, like ever. if anything you tease him more then he teases you

v=volume: oh hes a whimperer his sounds are so freaking pretty. whispering into your ear how good you make him feel and how pretty you are

w=wild card: he loves when you mark him up, leaving hickies on his neck, scratching his shoulders and back. he takes it like a trophy. whenever hes changing around the guys and they see the marks they always call them out and he just smiles like a dummy recalling the things he did the night before to recive said marks

x=xray: oh anton is packing, its like 7 1/2"-8" and like the perfect girth. he didnt realize how big he actually was until the two of you had sex for the first time and your jaw was basically on the floor from how big he was like how tf is that supposed to go into my vagina

y=yearing: 24/7 hes thinking of it, how good ur cunt is and how when he gets home he wants to make you feel so good and bury himself into ur cunt

z=zzz: he falls asleep so fast, he gets the tissues to clean you up, and then he gives you a few kisses and as soon as hes cuddling with you he passes out

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

please do not translate or steal my works! reblogs and likes always help!!

[whoishotteranimepolls]

In Defense of Nami and Robin (Off Anon for the pics)

So, yes, Oda's way of drawing women is...not great. But they are written beautifully, and to be fair, Toei (The anime) makes the design issue even worse than it is in the manga. (Also, the way in which they ugly cry is amazing, full snot, tears, wobbly lips, red face).

Nami and Robin are some of the best written, well rounded female characters I've seen. They have similar arcs, with tragic backstories that shaped how they see the world and affects their actions and relationships to others, and they have to learn to rely on others, and ask for help and put their trust in others. They are integral to the plot, Luffy will never be able to achieve his dream of being the Pirate King without them.

So first of all, Nami

Yes, this is probably the best picture of Nami's waist in the series, at least, post-time skip

Nami is the Navigator of the Strawhat Pirates, and an officer of the grand fleet. Unfortunately, the same face syndrome does start with her, a lot of the female characters will have her face. But design aesthetics aside, she is a wonder, complex, and dynamic character.

She was adopted by a marine women and raised on a tangerine farm with her older sister. They were poor, Nami always got her sister's hand-me-downs and their mom often skipped meals to make sure her girls had enough to eat. Nami, was an average 8 year old brat who did resent not having enough money to eat, or have clothes, or to buy navigation books like she wanted. But she was loved. So, of course, pirates attacked her village. They demanded a fine from each of the families in town based on adults and children in the household, and her mom was killed because she only had enough money for the girls. The same pirate, Arlong, made a deal with Nami, she could buy back her village for 100,000 belli, but in the meantime, she had to join his crew and work for him creating maps, where he preceded to work her until her fingers bled. She also became a thief and stole money from other pirates to add to the funds to buy her village back. This is where her catch phrase "I only love money and tangerines!" comes from. She intended to betray the Strawhats, but realized that they were the only people to ever show her love and kindness, and when Arlong betrayed her, she learned how to ask for help, to ease her burdens and rely on others when she needed it. Her scene where she was trying to cut her Arlong Pirate's tattoo off before asking Luffy for help remains one of the most profound moments in anime. While she was saved from Arlong, I wouldn't say she was necessarily a damsel in distress, she tried everything in her power, and part of her arc was accepting she didn't have to be alone. Luffy also never insisted on helping her because she was a weak girl or anything, he didn't care at all about her backstory, he just wanted to hurt whoever made her cry.

Apart of Nami's character is her love of money, desire to create maps and navigate the world, and how much she loves her friends/family and is willing to sacrifice for them, as well as the amount of forgiveness and kindness she is capable of and her love for children. She forgave one of the pirates that kept her as a slave, and when his friend, Camie, was almost sold into slavery, Nami didn't hesitate to spend all the money they had to buy her freedom. She discovered children were being experimented on by a crazy scientist and nearly went scorched earth.

When Nami came face to face with an enemy she couldn't beat, despite being a coward and thinking of herself as weak, she didn't back down because she refused to dismiss her captain. She showed incredible bravery and integrity, refusing to lie and break her ideals.

But she can also hold her own as well, she doesn't always lose or need to be rescued. She fights with a Clima-Tact, a weapon that allows her to summon lightning and use weather phenomena to her advantage. She beat Kalifa, a government assassin, Miss-Double-Finger, one of the strongest assassins in Baroque Works, Hotori and Kotori, and various other pirates. She also is particularly agile and has pretty high endurance. (Bonus points, in an anime filler arc, she is the first character with on-screen confirmed kill)

She also is a very skilled navigator, thief, liar, can predict weather phenomenon, maintains the crew's money and budget, a con artist, and cartography (including sea charts which are very difficult). She loves fashion, money, shopping, and is vain. She also somehow maintains her mom's tangerine trees while on a sailing ship.

The fandom widely considered her to be a lesbian, but of course that is only coding/head canons. But she has had very close relationships to other women in the series, including Vivi, and has expressed that she "has a soft spot for strong marine women."

Nico Robin

Her introduction to the series was strong, as she is one of the strongest members of the enemy faction Baroque Works. She was a serious threat, managing to infiltrate the Strawhat's ship and steal Luffy's hat and living to tell the tale, but she was also very mysterious and compelling. Despite being an enemy, she saved Luffy's life, and expressed amusement over his antics. When she tried to commit suicide in the tombs below Alabasta, after betraying her boss, Luffy saved her life, despite her protests. In return, she snuck back onto his ship and made herself his problem.

Like Nami, she has a tragic past that cause her profound trauma, sadness, a distrust in others, but ultimately, she found hope in the Strawhat pirates, and in Luffy, learning how to rely on them, and in return, being relied on. She can ask for help from them, but they ask for help from her as well.

When she was a child, her mother left to sail the seas and become an archaeologist. She was outcasted by her aunt, and her village, but she was accepted by the scholars who lived on her island. The island's name was Ohara. Against the other archaeologists wishes, she learned how to read the mysterious poneglyphs because she wanted to learn the true history of the world. Her first friend was a giant who washed up on the island and taught her how to laugh. But the World Government outlawed the language of the poneglyphs and learning about the true history. And so, they wiped her island clean off the map in an act called a Buster Call, and every single person but Robin was died. Desperate to capture her, they placed a 79,000,000 bounty on her head when she was only 8 years old, dubbed her a "devil child" and claimed she destroyed several marine battleships. For nearly 20 years she ran from organization to organization, only for all of them to betray her and try and turn her in.

While sailing with Luffy, it was the happiest she had ever been. Despite being an enemy just weeks earlier, they accepted her. Even when she was injured by another enemy, Zoro was pissed on her behalf. SO when the World Government finally caught up with her and blackmailed her into helping them while threatening to enact a Buster Call on the Strawhats (and an innocent island) she agreed to go along with them, even trying to sacrifice her own life so that the Strawhats can escape.

Of course, Luffy declared war on the Government and made Robin admit she didn't want to die, she wanted to live.

Robin is smart, capable, caring, funny, and strong. She just wants to learn history and have a family, and she suffered for years before she was finally able to be free enough to do so. She is a strong fighter because she had to be, and she is completely willing to became a monster and protect her friends. She hasn't been in many fights, but she won all of the ones she was in. She wasn't fooled by mind games and magic of enemies in Wano, and kept a calm and collected head. She is a skilled historian, archaeologist, osteologists, assassin, espionage, linguistics, and was a popular geisha. For most of the series she held the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, highest bounties in the crew. When an enemy threatened the crew, a different enemy pointed out that, (at least, With Luffy not there) Zoro and Robin were labeled as the strongest and most threatening members of the crew, capable of killing an enemy before the rest of the crew were even aware of the threat. Oh, and she has a demon form.

Other Female Characters: Kiku/O-Kiku/Kikunojo of the Fallen Snow

A canonical transgender women who is also a samurai. She is completely accepted for who she is by everyone in the story, and is another strong and capable female character. She is shy and tries to keep a low profile (despite being 8 feet tall), but is more than willing to defend the weak and win back her home island.

The original ask mentioned healers, and there isn't a whole lot of female doctors/healers in One Piece but there is Dr. Kureha. Kureha is the oldest human character, wears crop tops in winter, and will beat Luffy with a rubber chicken and an axe for calling her old. She taught Chopper everything he knows. She is crotchety and stingy, but an amazing doctor and a professional.

Boa Hancock:

Yes she is the most beautiful woman in the world, and yes, her design leaves some to be desired. But she is also a rape victim and a former slave, she hates men, and runs an empire of female pirates. She shows kindness to Luffy once he establishes he holds no sexual desire for her and wanted so save the lives of people he just met.

Other Notable Female Designs

The first mermaid we meet is Kokoro:

Dadan is Luffy's adopted mom who raised 3 feral boys and is the leader of a band of mountain bandits:

Big Mom is one of the strongest female pirates in the series and has dozens of children:

Vice Admiral Tsuru is one of the strongest female marines:

Boa Sandersonia and Marigold, Hancock's sister with the same backstory :

Lola, one of Nami's friends:

Other Gender Stuff:

Ivankov and Inazuma who are genderfluid, and Ivankov is the Queen of an island of queer people

Bonclay who is genderqueer, refered to as both male and female

And Morley who is also transfem

Despite the character designs, One Piece has some of the best written female characters, even if at first glance they may seem like stereotypical shonen women, they hold much more complexity to them. They aren't all damsels in distress, but their strength goes beyond just being able to kick ass. They are kind and compassionate, and they kindness are rarely seen as a weakness. They are smart and experts in their fields of study, which is wide and varied, from history, cartography, science, and medicine. There are several female rulers of their countries, including Hancock, Vivi, and Big Mom. There is a variety of body types and faces, even if they are lacking in compared to male characters. All of their backstories are unique, fleshed out, and has an impact on their characters and their character arcs.

Did I spend two hours typing a 2000+ word essay on women and started to lose steam? Yes. Am I passionate about female characters in One Piece? Also yes. Can you tell I'm very gay for these characters? Probably. Am I sorry to the mod/followers for the long post? Eh, y'all asked for this lmao. Did I catch all the spelling mistakes in my frantically written essay. Maybe

For context, they are responding to this post about Nami and Robin

I don't have anything else to add other than great work

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — let me baby you on your birthday. will you let me, katsuki? (bakugou birthday special)

word count: 1.7k

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, handjob (m!receiving), very suggestive, lowkey cum-eating, lots of praise (m!receiving), subby!bkg / note. happy birthday katsuki, my lil firecracker.

some days are more rough than they usually are on katsuki. albeit, as a pro hero, most days are rough - on not only his body, but his mind and emotional state too. the constant bossing people around because they’re “incompetent fucks” as he would put it, and the micromanaging he has to implement onto his sidekicks because they can’t take out a small gang orchestrating an armed robbery at the local bank.

katsuki knew this came with being a pro but it didn’t make the bags under his eyes less dark or the weight of his tired footsteps less heavy as he went through days on autopilot. he loved the notoriety that came with being the number one but this? this was getting to him more than he was letting on.

that’s where you come in. his lovely, sweet, caring girlfriend. now, you didn’t enjoy telling your boyfriend to take breaks or to slow down, lest you get faced with a hard, vermillion-eyed glare and a bastion of words telling you that he “needed to do this to elevate his career,” and that “there were no breaks if he wanted to stay number one on the charts.”

you let it slide a lot of the time, knowing that your boyfriend was at the height of his career. even when he missed important dates or dinners with the parents - you know that this was an integral part of his life and it’s what you signed up for. well, that was until today.

april 19th. the day before his 25th birthday.

katsuki never took his birthday seriously - not unless the people around him made a big fuss about it. and ever since he had started dating you, every birthday had been extravagant. whether it was a home cooked meal, a fancy restaurant and buying him his favourite collector’s items, he knew that you would never let him just get old and move on. which is why you were having this current, heated discussion.

you’re standing in the kitchen, chopping onions as you sternly say his name,“katsuki.” he wants to roll his eyes and tell you to just forget about it but he opts to just doing the latter, not wanting to invoke even more fury in your spirit.

“just forget about it, y/n. ‘s MY birthday. if i don’t care about it, you don’t have to either,” he argues, taking off his muddy caked up boots and throwing them in his bag. he had already had a garbage day because the coffee maker in his office has stopped working and suddenly no one knew who’d broken it.

to make matters worse, a mission went to shit with deku not being specific with the villain’s whereabouts, thus compromising his position in the mission and almost killing multiple civilians. his back was aching and his throat was scratchy from the strain of shouting at idiots all day.

“what kind of girlfriend would i be if i just did nothing for your birthday? no, i refuse to have this discussion. you absolutely don’t need to go in tomorrow,” you say indignantly and the sound of your chopping and diving gets more precise and sharp and katsuki decides to just half indulge in your wishes - too tired to argue with you.

“fine, whatever you want. you win,” katsuki grumbles, walking over to you while you throw some stuff in the pan and resting his chin on your head and you can feel his weary body looming over you.

you turn to look at katsuki and plant a kiss on his nose at him being so agreeable. but you knew deep down that he would probably try to defy you anyway so you had to make sure he wouldn’t leave your grasp on his special day.

after katsuki washes up and you both eat a lovely pre-birthday dinner, your boyfriend tries to settle into bed and you place a hand on his bare chest, resting a leg over his waist.

“something wrong?” katsuki asks with a quirked brow and his breath hitches slightly when you plant wet kisses to his jaw and his neck while your hand descends lower to his jogging bottoms.

“should be asking you that, ‘ki. you’re so tense, baby. can feel how tight your muscles are just from touching you,” you hum against his stubbled jaw and katsuki groans quietly under his breath at your unabashed attention all on him.

“can i give you an early birthday’s gift?” you whisper, still laving kisses on his adam’s apple and neck. katsuki gulps, nodding, his golden-blond eyelashes batting against his sharp and tan cheekbones.

“yeah, course,” he hums and a pleasant rumble shakes through his chest when your leg slips in between his legs and you palm against his semi hardon that’s starting to chub between his thick, tan legs.

“want you to know i’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished at this age, kats. don’t know anyone more deserving of being the number one hero,” you say with a saccharine lilt to your voice and your hand slips under his both his joggers and pants to palm at him properly and you watch the way your boyfriend pants pathetically, his hips lifting up slightly to meet your touch, only to remove your hand to get him to push down his trousers and katsuki gets the memo immediately; frantically pushing down both his briefs and joggers in one swift movement.

you take a moment to spit on your hand and a hint of a whine catches in the back of his throat when he lets you further entangle your smaller thigh with his much bigger one, so you can get better access to his cock. you grab at his throbbing cock and languidly stroke him, from his angry-red tip with dribbles of precum to his heavy, weighty balls that were now shiny and wet due to the mixture of pre and your spit.

“so big, so strong. you’re so good at what you do and i’m so proud of you katsuki, just wanna show you how much i mean it,” you sweetly say and the raspy whimper that leaves his lips sounds so desperate, so unlike him. his hips rise to meet your touch and you speed up to reach every inch of his heavy cock.

you continue to praise him through touching his cock, “you’re such a good boy, kats’. so good at leading, so good to me. just want you to let me take care of you sometimes. will you let me?” and his hips jerk into your fist harder now.

“o-oh, baby, f-uck me, fuuuuck-” he moans gruffly and his eyes roll into the back of head when your thumb pays attention to the head of his cock, pressing into his slit and rubbing at what seems to be a never ending stream of precome.

“you’re gonna come for me, baby? you deserve it so so much, sweet boy. let me do this for you, ‘kay? look at how much you needed this,” you whisper into his slightly open mouth, his pink tongue peeking out and you both look down to see his wet and shiny cock and your soaked hand that’s tugging at him, all hard and fast.

“oh-ohhhh, urgh, fuck-fucken, gonna fucking come,” he moans and he looks gorgeous like this: katsuki’s face is scrunched up, a little pink in the cheeks and a tiny ‘o’ forms on the planes of his lips. his eyebrows are furrowed deeply and he doesn’t know what to with himself and opts to throwing one beefy, tatted arm across his eyes and another gripping tightly at your panty-clad ass.

with your hand busy jerking him off, you use your other to rub at his chest and thumb at pale brown nipples and then you slow down because you want him to see what you’re about to do to him before he reaches his limit.

he moves his arm when he notices you slow down and smile at him so sincerely, so bright and kiss his cheek.

“shh, just relax, ‘kay, baby? wanna see your pretty face when you come,” and you speed up all over again and you lean up slightly so you can use your unoccupied hand to thumb at the taint of his cock - the sensitive, veiny part that meets his balls and katsuki reels at the touch.

he’s all choked up with unshed tears wanting to fall down his face at your ministrations and the constant fondling at the base of his cock is too much for him, “hmmfgg - fuck, fuuuuck, right there, ‘m gonna come, shit, don’t, fuckk - don’t fuckin’ stop, ohhhh,” katsuki begs and he doesn’t know whether he’s begging for you to not stop talking or to keep touching him or both.

your clit practically beats out of your panties just looking at him reaching his climax and you talk him through it as the first spurts of his orgasm hit your arm and his pelvis, “so proud of you, kats’, just like that, yeah, babyyy, give me all of it, so good for me, huh?” you tease, with a sickly amount of sweetness and a hint of smirk in your voice and katsuki humps your hand until he’s spilt himself all over the expanse of his lower body and all over your hand and arm.

“fuck me,” your blond boyfriend breathes out, sniffling a little and quickly wiping his wet eyes and he leans on his elbows to assess the mess he made.

“you came a lot this time,” you giggle, poking fun at your hothead of a man and you lift your hand to suck at one of your fingers and katsuki’s eyes darken in desire all over again: his hands finding purchase on your waist and playing with the hem of your panties.

“how about you let me apologise by sitting on my face?”

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“is dynamight not coming in?” quizzes one of the sidekicks to the secretary and she shakes her head.

“nope. think he’s taking a day off for birthday celebrations. good for him,” she nods and the sidekick agrees.

dynamight comes back on the 21st very content and calm. no one knows what happened but they chalk it up to a great birthday surprise from you.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[madlori]

Ship dysphoria

Ok so a bit of time has gone by, and the 9-1-1 fandom is settling into a bit of an...existential crisis?

Because 90% of this fandom is built on Buddie. Buddie has always been the strongest driving force. We love our other blorbos, but it's Buddie that usually drives us feral.

Except...Buck/Tommy. OMG. It is WORKING for a lot of fans. (and JFC we cannot settle on a ship name. Tevan? Kinley? I'm gonna stick with Buck/Tommy)

A LOT of fans are having a "I'm a devoted Buddie shipper, why do I like this so much??" moment and it can almost feel like a betrayal, or that you're deserting the ship (the ship that, remember, Oliver told us to stay aboard).

And I think I can probably speak for everybody when I say that the last thing we want or need is a ship war in this fandom, something we haven't ever really had but which has torn other fandoms apart.

So I'm gonna put on my veteran-of-many-fandoms hat for a second and tell you a thing:

It's okay to ship Buck and Tommy. It's ok to do that and still ship Buddie. It's also okay to leave Buddie behind if it's not working for you anymore. It's okay to just tolerate Buck and Tommy and not really care about it, and stay focused on Buddie. You are allowed to ship however it works for you, and you are not limited to one and only one ship. If you decide you don't think Buddie will happen and you're going to cut your losses, that's okay, too. It is not a reflection on your character or something. You don't swear an oath of fealty to a ship.

We don't know how long Tommy will stick around, but Buck will still be bisexual. He may date another man. He may date a woman again. You can ship those things too.

But why is this ship hitting me so hard? I never thought I'd like Buck with another man! I'm so confused!

I get that. There are some reasons why that might be.

There is something very appealing about a ship that's canon. Some of you might never have had a canon queer ship, but the pull is strong. There's no guessing, no interpreting, no subtext-examining. It's there, it's real, you don't have to wonder if you're just overinterpreting things. Yes. Buck and Tommy kissed and are going on a date. Even if that's all it ever is, you'll never be accused of "seeing things that aren't there." Don't discount that.

Tommy, even in just 1.5 episodes, is a LOT more integrated into the firefam than any of Buck's previous girlfriends. Tim talked about not wanting him to be "siloed off" away from the main cast and that was exactly the problem with his prior girlfriends. Tommy is friends with Eddie. He knows Christopher and has hung out with him. He spent most of that loft conversation reassuring Buck that his place in Eddie's life was secure. He feels more like part of the gang than any other ones. That makes it easier to see him in Buck's life.

The mere fact of Buck's queer awakening is so monumental for so many of us that the character who helped him get there is going to naturally earn our affection immediately, and it's going to make you want that relationship to succeed, even if it's ulitmately not endgame for Buck. You want to see Buck have a good experience the first time out with a man. Of course you do.

And we just want to see Buck make out with a hot beefy firefighter. That is so valid of us.

Anyway. There is no need for a crisis. You can love Buddie with your whole heart and still be excited about this pairing, and want to see how it goes, and read fic about it. I may be writing a lil something myself.

You're good, fam.

[gotham-daydreams]

Oh my god due to the recent Alfred ask it makes me wonder and scream at the thought if there has ever been a moment when Reader asked Alfred if there's something else they can call him. Like DAD perhaps...(and this can go for different routes and so many juicy things, but ill get into that later).

But since the backstory is up to us, I like to think the Reader has a bio family which was questionable(maybe I'm projecting), so they never had a good track record with their dad and then Bruce adopted them and we know that didn't end well.

So when they ask Alfred if there's something else they can call him ( a lil show that they do see him closer than anyone and that he's important to us.) We could have gone back and forth with him talking about what to call him and stuff when we jokingly say something along the lines of "maybe not Dad since my track record with such isn't the best." Maybe they open up to Alfred about how their family/ life was before they were adopted by the batfam. Maybe even admit they can't see anyone as a dad figure after them (😭), so the thought is uncomfy for them( this hits in so many ways.) Or how they're scared if they call him dad something will change about Alfred and become like their 'dads'.

Which will undoubtedly hit some strings with Alfred. Seeing as how every 'dad' has failed them to the point they can't fathom or be comfortable with seeing or thinking of someone as a dad. But the fact that BRUCE had played a part in it 💀... Which is what's making the Reader confused and feel unsecured in his own personal relationship with the Reader (on what to call him, but probably in other stuff as well).

Back to the top part of the reader asking what they can call him, and they end up at something along the lines or at calling Alfred Dad.

It will undoubtedly make his heart squeeze and scrumble( One way could be he's being called 'Dad' after so long). Probably make Alfred a lot closer to the reader than before. Probably stepping up to the title and being closer taking care of Reader even more, now that he knows they have that emotional bond( stronger than before and the permission).

For little cute ideas/cenerios I imagine he makes an even greater effort to come to our plays and tournaments and sit front row probably recording.( in a reserved seat next to all the other empty ones 😒). And get a lil prissy when he can't make it (ESPECIALLY IF ITS BC OF THE BATFAM). He asks some of the organizers to record it specifically for him if they aren't doing it already, so he can watch it live (or once handed to him)while doing whatever keeps him from going. All so he can talk about it with us when we come back home and show how proud of us he is.

Definitely gets us gifts for each performance/ tournaments. If he was present he would walk with us a while after it ended and get us ice cream or out for a celebratory dinner. 😭

Okay but now for the lil angst part in that moment when we settle on what to call Alfred whenever it would be similar or is Dad or a different title all together that would be the moment we lose any real attachments to the Batfam. Not seeing them as siblings or parental figures anymore. At most just wanted to impress them but that quickly died off and just just focused on what we do have.

Alfred would also know that that was the moment or the end of the falling bridge with the Batfam and Reader. Which would probably hurt him cause the Batfam is still his family, but now he also has us and sees our neglect and what the batfam's consequences are. Probably breaking his own hope of us being accepted/ integrated into it and the Batfam to being back a normal dysfunctional but loving family with us in it.

Okay but the real ANGST. It's not just the reader and Alfred having heart to heart or other situations between the two of them. BUT INSTEAD BRUCE HEARING READER CALL ALFRED THE TITLE WE SETTLED ON. And it doesn't have to be only Bruce that would work for angst because the others are smart so if they hear Reader call Alfred by the title... They know it doesn't correlate to them and their relationship of being Reader's sibling because Alfred isn't that title to them. Connecting and discovering at the same time that the Reader doesn't see them as siblings and hasn't for a time they weren't even aware of.

Imagining just Bruce sneaking away and thinking by himself or even confronting Alfred 😩😩. The Batkids doing their research seeing Reader live their life completely disconnected from theirs only hammering that Reader doesn't see them as family. The only thing connecting to them being Alfred and even Alfred is a different role in Reader's life than in theirs.

Maybe Batfam finds out about what the Reader tried to get their attention only to give up, maybe they don't and just see the Reader slipping away until the Reader becomes a foggy memory again until the Reader moves away like in the [Not] series everything follows.

Hope you enjoy 🥰🥰💕 drink water 💦

Yeah!!! And since there is another ask that's about the reader considering Alfred their dad, and how Bruce would react to that, I won't be going too much into how Bruce himself would react since I'd like to explain it there when I get to it- but I will say that in very, very simple terms. Bruce is not happy about it. At all.

As for how the whole name thing would start? Alfred would definitely say that you can call him whatever you'd like, but will definitely silently try to nudge you in the direction of calling him dad or something akin to that. He may not expect it to work right away, especially in this scenario where the reader already has a messy relationship with people who were supposed to be their father's in the past. However, when you do call him dad or something similar, he is literally about to cry.

He won't cry in front of you! But he might later-

Regardless, words cannot express the amount of joy he feels when that happens, and as you've mentioned, Alfred does try to not let you down. Unwilling to become another reason why you have a hard time seeing people as your father, or father-figure. He feels more inclined to look after you above everyone else, and tries even harder to be present. There isn't a single event of performance that he'll miss willingly, and even if he does- he has his ways of making it up to you, even if you know that it was out of his hands.

I think a neat detail would also be that the amount of unoccupied seats next to him slowly shorten with time. It starts off with there being a seat for everyone in the Batfam, but as time goes on the amount begins to dwindle, until there's just one for him. Maybe with the occasional one other seat beside him if it's for an event, and you get to sit next to him before going or doing whatever you have to. Further showing how you, as the reader, begin to care less and less about the Batfam, and really only see/recognize Alfred as your family. As there is only one reserved seat for him at each and every performance and tournament.

I think the idea of the Batfam noticing this and trying to fix it, yet the reader still being able to slip away, and them forgetting all over again is both just out right heartbreaking and infuriating.

Like, can you imagine as a neglected!reader, finally having your family notice you (despite you growing used to their lack of attention at this point), only to have them forget you exist all over again? Or just forget about you enough to where you still leave without saying much of anything, and only leave behind a note to the one person you considered family?

And imagine the Batfam- not only feeling, but knowing that they've failed you more than they could ever imagine? Not only making you feel alone and isolated in your own home, since they never noticed you, not only once, but twice? That's borderline unforgivable. They noticed you, and somehow still managed to neglect you all over again. It's astonishing, really. Maybe they do have powers after all.

But really- how I could see that happening is if they get too busy with the idea of you rather you yourself, if that makes sense?

Through their research and everything, they form a version of you in their heads that they're all clinging onto, that they unintentionally don't give the real you a chance. Hell, they don't even give themselves a chance to even see it as they drown in their own delusions. Stuck with plans and ideas they ultimately never saw through, either because they were far too worried to further mess things up (like a certain brooding bat), or were far too certain of the outcome and therefore came up with more ideas and plans that they ended up not doing. Like a certain robin who, after two generations, finally wore pants. So by the time they realize their mistake, (which probably happenss when one of them finally decides to actually act on a plan they made) you're gone. Lost to the wind. Like a distant whisper they nevr quite heard, but dreamed about encountering ever since. Forgetting that chasing and searching were things they could do right from the start instead.

Though Alfred and the reader having a heart to heart? Please, we could all really use that. Forget about how horrible Alfred is behind the scenes- we need the closest thing we can get to a positive influence in this family. Or really just a good source of comfort, honestly.

Though his dying hope does break his heart, he just takes it as another opportunity to fill in the shoes of being your father. Even if at this point it means being your only family out of everyone in the Batfam, then so be it. He'll just have to fill in where they refuse to, but he doesn't mind since it gets him more time with you- and I can imagine that, despite the hurt of realizing that you'll never be 'fully' apart of the Wayne family, at least you have a part with Alfred and the Pennyworth's. And there is some comfort and reassurance that comes with that. Since, while you may not be able to have this big, huge family- at least you have this small, comfortable one right here with Alfred.

Hell, this time around Alfred might even fully support the reader moving away, as he's more certain than ever that he'll still have that connection with them. That he and the reader will actually communicate, and as long as he can still see them and so on- he doesn't mind.

He'll let the Batfam run around, and play dumb at all the right moments with that sassy, sarcastic attitude of his. Letting them know that they've wasted their opportunity- wasted the one real chance they had with you, and probably won't be getting another one.

After all, it isn't his fault that they fucked up. If anything, he's probably the only reason why the reader is connected to the Batfam at all, or even associates with them the smallest amount. It isn't because of Bruce or any of the others. It's because of Alfred. Even if he won't say it out loud, he'll make sure that they all know it one way or another, and though Alfred doesn't necessarily view himself as cruel- he wouldn't mind throwing a little shade if it meant emphazing that point a little further.

You are his kid. His family. Why would they think otherwise?

On a lighter, more wholesome note, I definitely agree with the more light/cuter ideas!!

Alfred is definitely spoiling you if he can help it, and will poorly disguise his favoritism- though probably would stop even trying to hide it all together at some point.

There is never a moment where Alfred doesn't/won't remind you of how proud of you he is, and how much you've improved. He isn't afraid to admit that you're doing a good job or doing the right thing, even if you can be reckless at times, to your face. And if you end up doubting your ability, or just yourself as a whole, Alfred will definitely be there to comfort you, and remind you of how well you've been doing and reiterate how proud you make him.

He wants you to know that he'll always be there for you, and by the time you leave, you still feel that.

Alfred also makes sure to check up on you and tend to your needs, along with spend time with you in other ways- which does include, but isn't limited to; watching films at home, baking/cooking together, sewing, reading, tending to the garden, and just generally being in each other's space. Maybe even a small hang out outside of the manor if you both can help it.

Nevertheless, that was a fun read, and I fully agree!! Make sure to drink some water and rest up too!

[anothermansjeans]

Kaleidoscope

aaron hotchner x f!reader

a/n: thank you to those who voted on the poll! i'll probably put up another one either tomorrow or the following day <3 inspiration from kaleidoscope by chappell roan !!

summary: to y/n, love is a kaleidoscope. as beautiful as it is, it's confusing and complicating, and it hurts so much.

warnings: not proof read </3 she's angsty (w/ a happy ending) mentions of guns, mentions of death (very little don't worry), mentions of throwing up, violence, hotch is a bit of a dick but he has redemption...?

word count: 3k

++

Love is a beautiful thing. It can bring light into your life. It's the brightest of colors, the most elegant of shapes. To put it simply, love is like a kaleidoscope.

Love is also a complicated thing. How it works– you'll never truly know. There’s change, but it also stays the same. It’s never confined to a shape alone. Again, in simple terms, love is like a kaleidoscope.

For Y/N, that was the easiest way to put it. When in love, it seemed as though her entire world shifted. It was a confusing and beautiful mess. The problem with this tilted and symmetrical mirror view though, was integrated in the blind spots. In Y/N’s case, that meant her judgment– one of the most integral aspects of her job as an FBI profiler.

She wasn't sure when she switched to her kaleidoscope view on life, but she knew it had to be around the time Hotch offered himself up as bait to the current unsub they were trying to catch. She was worried– she had a right to be. Her and Aaron had been together for a little over a year now– you could say they were in it for the long haul– and she didn't want to lose her love, her life, her future. She was on edge for the rest of the case, but the worst was the moment it was confirmed the unsub had Hotch.

The team was ordered to sit in the car. Stay in the car until they heard either the code word from Hotch or a confession from the unsub. Y/N knew to take orders seriously– she was almost as stern as Aaron at times when it came to protocol during undercover ops. The problem came when they could clearly hear things start to get rough and not only were they still missing a confession, but Hotch had yet to say anything. She was terrified. He didn't have his gun– the entire team knew he would've been searched the moment he walked in the high-end club the victims frequented– and the thought of him not being able to defend himself sent chills down Y/N’s body.

Again, she can't remember the exact moment it happened, but one minute she was in the passenger seat staring intently at the door to the club while listening in, and the next she sent a bullet through the unsub’s head.

She fucked up.

She knew she fucked up the moment Aaron made eye contact with her and behind the lividness, she barely found the love that resided. She wanted to explain herself. She wanted to tell him that the reason why she went in guns blazing was because he was going to get himself killed. She couldn't live without him. She didn't want to.

Unfortunately, that time never came. The moment they found themselves alone in the aftermath happened to be when the paramedic left Hotch after a quick check-up.

“You're lucky.”

His rough voice caused Y/N’s body that had been previously leaned against the ambulance to shift towards Hotch. “Excuse me?”

“You're lucky. If he wasn't the unsub and if he hadn't been assaulting me, you'd end up fired. Possibly arrested.”

“Aaron, you have to know–”

“You crossed a line.” His voice was raised, “when we got into this relationship we had a conversation. Keep it out of the field and away from the team until it is necessary for them to know.”

She scoffed at his words, “you're worried about the team finding out? We just had our one year anniversary two months ago. I live with you and Jack for God’s sake, Aaron. Your life is one of the most important to me– I would do it again if I had to.”

“You crossed a line,” he repeated, exasperation on his face. He was acting as if she wasn't understanding a word he said. “How the Hell am I supposed to trust you?”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised, “oh my fucking God.” She shook her head and turned her back to him, placing her hands on her head as she heard the low mumble she definitely wasn't supposed to hear.

“We were better when we were barely friends.”

What the actual fuck.

Tears began to burn in her eyes as she spun around and saw the look on Aaron’s face. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. She opened and closed her mouth twice before words spew out with a sob. “Well if that's what you want, agent Hotchner.”

She could barely look at him again, so she quickly walked away. She didn't speak to anyone. She sat alone on the jet ride back to Quantico and as soon as they hit the tarmac, she booked a hotel.

++

When the two mandatory days the team gets off ends, Y/N immediately calls out sick. The anxiety of having to see, hear, or even being in the same building as Hotch made her physically sick, and she was in no shape to be driving down to the office. She feels like a coward– she has this idea that a “strong woman” wouldn't just run away to a hotel when shit hits the fan. She thinks they'd stay and fight, or at least grab their stuff before leaving, but when she was in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet as the feelings from the last few days trek through her body, she realizes that she is a strong woman. She walked away from him. Albeit, she let him decide where their relationship stood after his snide comment, she was still the one to take herself away from the situation.

What he said hurt her. She knows she would follow his lead with whatever is decided in regards to their relationship. Even though it felt as if he made that decision right then and there. Even after the hurt that he caused her heart, body, and soul with his words, she always seemed to go back to her kaleidoscope view. Things seem to be changing… but they always stay the same.

++

She took another two days to herself. The second day in her hotel room was spent trying to gain the energy back she initially lost while her body found a temporary home on the bathroom floor, and the third was spent using her key to grab a few of her clothes from the home she shared with the Hotchner boys while Aaron was at the BAU and Jack was at school.

Jack. God, she didn't even want to think about how he may have been feeling. That boy felt like her own in every way that counted. She hopes Aaron broke it to him gently… whatever “it” is.

When she did come back to work, she was bombarded by multiple questions from the team regarding her whereabouts. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I must've gotten something during the last case.”

She spoke that lie with her full chest. She had to, especially in a room full of profilers.

When the interrogation was over, she was barely able to sit down before hearing the voice she had been dreading for almost a week. “Y/L/N.”

Hesitantly, she turned her head up to see Hotch at his office door. The nod of his head requested her to go in there and talk to him, and she immediately felt a turning in her stomach.

She counted as she walked up. Normally, she would be up there in less than thirty seconds. This time, she took a minute and forty two seconds.

“Yes?”

The look on his face looked pained with a mix of anger. “Why weren't you here? What if we had a case?”

“I was sick.” Her voice was soft. She really wasn't in the mood to fight.

“This is why we shouldn't have started any–” he cut himself off, a look of regret immediately flooding his face. “I meant that our relationship shouldn't be getting in the way of work. The team–”

“Aaron, I was really sick.” She was tired of his whole “the team” bullshit. Oh fucking well if they knew. “You know,” she continued as she stared at him, “throwing up in a hotel bathroom and all.” On instinct, his eyes not-so subtly panned down to her stomach, and a ball of fury must have risen up from the depths of Hell and found itself in her because maybe she was ready to fight. “Do not flatter yourself, Aaron.”

Her eyes were wild, and his paled expression knew he was about to have his ass handed to him. “I have no idea who you think you are. Yes, you are my boss, but you are– or were– my partner. Equals. You're allowed to get pissed with me, you're allowed to reprimand me as your subordinate, but you are not allowed to talk to me as if I foiled your little plan on keeping our relationship a dirty little secret to the team.” Taking a breath, she felt the tears she thought she had left back at the hotel make an appearance. “I understand wanting to keep things professional, but you lost that when you brought up our personal relationship in order to make me feel like shit in the field.

“I was terrified for you. Terrified! I never want to imagine losing you– Jack losing another parent, but that's all that went through my mind, and the fact that you're more worried about my professionalism, and me making the team realize we're together is extremely telling.” Feeling a sob making its way through her body, she spoke her next words with as much grace and dignity as she could muster. “I tormented myself these past few days thinking I was a coward running away from this fight, but I’m not. I’m letting you decide. Go ahead, be the coward, and I’ll find a way to understand. Maybe one day we’ll go back to barely being friends.”

She could barely make it out of his office before she completely broke down, and ran to the bathroom out of sight from everyone. However hard she tried though, the entire bullpen was able to see and hear her, and eyes immediately went to Hotch.

“What the Hell happened?” Morgan looked frazzled. No one has ever seen Y/N like this.

“Hotch, what’s going on?”

“Is Y/N okay?”

“Should one of us go to her?”

“Aaron.”

The last voice he heard was the one to pull him away from staring at where Y/N walked away to. Looking over, Rossi had a solemn expression and gestured to Hotch to follow him in his office.

“What's happening with you two?”

The question was a simple one really. Before the last case, Aaron would say that he and Y/N are happily in love. They found solace in one another, Jack loves her, he wants to marry her. He still does, that hasn't changed, but the moment he saw Y/N rush into the club putting everything at risk for him… it scared him. He knew he would have done the same thing, but seeing the way Y/N could so easily risk her job, her life, just to save him? He never wanted that to have to happen. So maybe the question was simple, but his true answer would be loaded.

“We’re together,” he opted out of explanation. He knew Rossi would understand.

“Yes, and?”

With furrowed eyebrows, Hotch tilted his head. Rossi had this look on his face as if it wasn't a shock that they were together. “and I screwed up.”

“How,” the older man was getting impatient.

Sighing, Aaron closed his eyes. “I said things. I made her feel bad and prioritized keeping us a secret and being professional.”

“You must not think we’re good profilers."

Aaron knew what he meant by that. The smirk on Rossi’s face said that he didn't even believe what he was saying. Deep down, he did entertain the idea that the team already knew about them, and the more he thought about that, the less and less his anger towards Y/N was originally rooted in spilling that secret.

When he hadn't said anything for a few moments, Rossi spoke again. “So what was the real issue?”

Shaking his head, Hotch scoffs. “She is so selfless at times it scares me.” Rossi’s silence prompted him to continue. “She risked so much going in that club and killing that unsub, but all she cared about was me. She told me she couldn't imagine Jack losing another parent and I just– it reminds me of Haley.”

A look of understanding washes over Rossi’s face as Hotch continues.

“This job kills, Dave. The only way I know how to compartmentalize when it comes to it is to stay professional and try not to think about the love of my life also there doing what I do and potentially getting herself killed. I don't think me or Jack could go through losing someone else.”

“Tell her that.” Rossi’s voice is stern. “Don't push away everything you two have built– which I’m assuming took about a year to build?”

“A couple months over.”

“And I’m assuming you love together seeing that none of us are ever invited over to your places,” the smirk on his face caused a light blush to appear on Aaron’s face. They really never were that subtle. “But Aaron, I think you're too old for me to say this but love is a crazy thing. It’s the nicest but also the most confusing thing. She will understand how you're feeling. It seems to me she already knows that feeling.”

Feeling a thousand times better but a million times worse after thinking about Y/N currently breaking down, Aaron makes a move towards the door to go find her, but is stopped when JJ gives both him and Rossi a weak smile.

“We got a case.”

++

It’s five days later and the case is still ongoing. Y/N’s been distant– rightfully so– and Hotch has been trying to find every moment possible to talk to her, but it’s dejectedly decided that won't be happening until afterwards. A break in the case had finally happened when they had come to the realization that the unsub had to be an officer on the case, and unfortunately that officer happened to be the one Y/N was currently riding with to a crime scene.

The team was at the precinct when Hotch’s phone rang, an incoming call from Y/N, and the dreadful sense of deja vu set in when he heard the voices on the other end.

“Where are you taking me?” Y/N asked. A slight panic could be detected in her voice.

“I told you… the next crime scene.”

“You'll never get away with it.”

The click of a gun could be heard and hot tears began to stream down Aaron’s face. “Try me, Sweetheart.”

“Garcia, we need that location,” Morgan could be heard behind him, but he was hyper focused on his phone. Mumbles and grunts were the only things heard on the speaker of Hotch’s phone followed by the sound of car doors closing. “Highland Bakery! Garcia says it's been abandoned for thirty years.”

Hotch was the first one out the door. It wasn't happening. Y/N would be safe. He refused anything otherwise.

When they reached the building Hotch had to remind himself over and over again to stay rational. He had to stay level headed and keep you safe, which is what he did. The moment the tact team went in there, Y/N was found half asleep, arms chained above her head, duct tape over her mouth, and cut marks along her legs. She was hurt, but she was safe. Hotch didn't even care about the unsub at that point, knowing the rest of the team was more than qualified to apprehend him. His main priority was getting Y/N to the paramedics as soon as possible.

Hours later sitting in a tiny hospital chair, Aaron held onto her hand for dear life. Her hand squeezed his, causing him to become vigilant, and when she opened her eyes, he immediately started to cry and brush her hair back. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Her voice was rough, and she sat up the tiniest bit before slightly moving her hand out of his.

His heart dropped once she did that, and the words began to flow out of his mouth. “I love you so much, please tell me you know that.” He waited a beat as she gently nodded, which he took as permission to continue. “I’m an ass. I said things that make me hate myself because you deserve so much more than that. I was scared. I'm always scared when it comes to you and this job, but something just snapped at that moment and I realized how much we risk for each other. You say you don't want to imagine losing me, well I can't imagine losing you. I am so in love with you and so please, I promise to not be an ass about it but I also need you to promise to be safe.”

They were both crying at that point. “I’m still upset about what you said.”

He nodded his head quickly, “which is expected and valid.”

“And you need to get over the team knowing.”

“Already done.”

She lifted an eyebrow and gave a slow nod. “And I need you to know that I love you too.” He laughed and pressed their lips together, only breaking away to catch their breaths. “Next time you offer yourself up as bait to an unsub,” she began, her voice just barely above a whisper, “please use the code word so that I don't have to hear you getting hurt.”

With their foreheads touching, he brushed their noses against each other. “How about one just for us? So we both know when to walk away.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Any word you want.”

Y/N took a moment before a small smile made its way on her face. “How about… kaleidoscope?”

“Kaleidoscope?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of you. Of love.”

Aaron smiles with her and slightly leans back in to fit their lips together. Love is a beauteous mess with every emotion reflecting off of those you love. Love is a kaleidoscope.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Happy with the staff content this year but am I the only one who is disappointed with the PV we got? It's basically a slideshow of art we've already seen, major downgrade from the year 1 PV that had literally all the events. There was a drop in quality of the anniversary PVs over the years and it really shows this year. Sorry if you find this too negative I don't mean to hate I just wish Twst would do better for it's ANNIVERSARY.

[For everyone's reference, here are the anniversary PVs in order of release: 2021 / 2022 / 2023 / 2024]

Mmm, now that you mention it, I noticed this trend with the Halloween PVs 🤔 For year 1, there was a video that showed all members of the NRC casy, even those that did not receive cards at that time. There were then several short variants of the PV released for year 2/Endless Halloween Night (part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4). Altogether, they feature all of the characters, including the students from year 1 but heavily shadowed and with glowing eyes to indicate ghostly possession. Even Glorious Masquerade features all of the students that get new cards for the event plus Rollo, although there are notably more still shots here. The Stage in Playful Land CM, by comparison, is significantly shorter and only shows us the three SSRs (Ace, Ortho, and Kalim) as well as the two new characters (Fellow and Gidel).

As this anon has said, the anniversary PVs have changed a lot over time too. The first one was the most animated and integrated several event outfits. The second one was also animated a fair amount, but you can tell corners were cut in some places where they transition to photographs/still images. This alone works thematically given that the player is a photographer, but you can still catch dips in quality when it comes to the art style. I remember finding Deuce running and the Kalim + Silver flying scene odd, as well as Jade and Trein's faces strange in general. Then the third PV rolls around and it only features the third years; the animation also seems to be much more sluggish (although this could be a stylistic choice; not sure). A friend actually recently pointed out to me that Lilia's pose looks like he was pulled straight from other assets; his artwork in the animation is almost the exact same as his smiling expression in the game. This year's is the most different (+ most static) and, like year 3's PV, only provides "new" content for a select few characters (the dorm leaders). They also reuse pre-existing illustrations already found in the game that don't seem to be picked for any particular reason (like, there are random Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles groovies in there). This direction, I'm guessing, is less costly and more efficient than making an entirely original animation, which is what was done in previous years. (Not that Disney or Aniplex is hurting for money to fund this, lol) Would I have preferred another PV in the style of year 1's? Yeah, for sure. I want to see other events and their outfits animated! Was what we got this year bad? Not necessarily; I think the production and editing was very technically impressive, but I'm still sad we didn't get anything substantially "new" to chew on (as someone who isn't a fan of most third years or the dorm leaders). Maybe it's just something we perceive as a deficit only because year 1 set the bar so high. It is what it is; whoever was in charge of the anniversary PV was probably doing the best they could with whatever budget they were given 😔 Let's hope that next year's will be a return to form, or that at least the money/effort is being redirected to other bigger projects (maybe the anime?).

[sirshiba]

mlp x gf au q&a

hello all !! i'm working on a full informational post regarding specific characters' cutie marks in my au since a LOT of people have been asking about them, but in the meantime i'll answer some questions i've seen in replies/tags/asks! more detailed answers to cutie mark-related questions will be in the full post.

Q: when and how do starfall and little dipper get their cutie marks?

A: starfall gets her cutie mark during the pioneer day episode. little dipper gets his in dipper vs. manliness, which would revolve around his insecurity about being a blank flank instead of his masculinity.

Q: what about primadonna pearl? when does she get her cutie mark?

A: in northwest mansion mystery, most likely.

Q: what's eight ball's real cutie mark?

A: it's a tarot card with gold coins!

Q: wouldn't eight ball's cutie mark be the same as sixfold, because of the whole identity theft thing?

A: it wouldn't really be necessary. most of the townsfolk probably wouldn't recognize sixfold's cutie mark since he was so reclusive while he was at gravity falls. besides, the whole fake cutie mark is part of his whole mr. mystery act, and just sticking with one would ruin the intrigue. he'd probably only paint sixfold's mark over his own if he was visiting family.

Q: why are starfall and little dipper earth ponies while eight ball and sixfold are unicorns?

A: both sets of twins are half earth pony and half unicorn. in this au, hybrids between different pony types will be born as one parent's type (for instance, a child of a pegasus and a unicorn will be either a pegasus or a unicorn, not a mix of both). hybrids may inherit some traits from the other parent, though! that's why eight ball and sixfold are so big and bulky, despite unicorns typically being on the slimmer side.

Q: why did you name wendy windbreaker? doesn't that mean fart?

A: i genuinely wasn't aware of the implications at first. i named her after a type of jacket because her last name is corduroy, as well as "windbreaker" being a weather pun since pegasi control weather patterns. and then many people helpfully informed me that i named her fart. i won't be changing her name, though, so i'm just going to integrate it into her lore. she probably goes by a nickname (maybe windy?) because other ponies at school won't stop making jokes about her full name, and witnessing their bullying is one of the things that makes starfall anxious about growing up.

Q: what's bill's name in this au?

A: i thought about it and i might just call him bill cipher. it'd be funny if everyone else had special pony names and then bill was just... bill.

Q: what about (insert character here)?

A: i'll probably get to them eventually, just be patient!

[twinribbonz]

They’re still just kids.

Based off of @toffeebrew ‘s wonderful and absolutely adorable doodle!!!!

Fun fact: I wrote the title and proceeded to cry for a minute. It hurts because it’s the truth.

I included XChara for funsies.

Reblogs are appreciated!!! It helps get my work around.

He was a bit surprised when his two friends approached him. Both asking the same request. For him to watch over their ghostly companions. He had agreed to watch over them. His friends breathed sighs of relief before going off to do whatever. Waving them off as they disappeared in a flash of a teleport.

Suddenly, he is surrounded by a group of kids. Already being asked a million and one questions. Ranging from all sorts of topics. It amuses him greatly. The group of six are enthusiastic about hanging with him. The seventh kid was a few feet away from everyone. Looking off into the distance to not be associated with the others.

He definitely is hip with the kids. But he had to admit everything he knows probably wouldn’t appeal to them. As they never got the chance to experience a future. Times have changed since their departure from this world. Only to be brought back as ghosts upon a miracle happening. And his friends aren’t too keen on using technology. That would be for another time.

What’s something he can do to entertain them? It instantly clicked in his mind. Reading will never be outdated.

“How about I read you little bruhs a story? Any recommendations?” Epic smiles widely as he watched most of their faces lit up at idea. Titles are immediately hurled right at him. All of them sounded like books for kids. He isn’t sure which one to choose.

A certain title is said that caught his attention.

His smile grows softer, “Peek-a-boo with fluffy bunny? Now, that’s a classic. Come closer bruhs.” Summoning the book into his hands. His brother loves this book so much. So, he always kept it around on hand. The kids cheer at the sight, impressed by his magic.

Epic takes a seat on the floor. The ghosts surround him at all sides. Perseverance being the closest with sparkling eyes behind those round glasses of theirs. XChara still drifted away but had moved closer.

He opens the book to be met with blurry text. A pair of glasses appears in hand. Securing them in place with a piece of tape. Beginning to read the words out loud. Using his best acting skills to make the story come alive. His voice changing for each character.

“Uncle Epic is the best!” Bravery interrupts the story with their exclamation. His soul melts at the compliment. Their honesty is so genuine. He can’t help but pause the story. Reaching around Kindness to pat Bravery’s head. It phases through which doesn’t deter their excitement.

The story continues on for a while without any other interruptions. He glances to his side, seeing Kindness lean in to see the picture more. Holding it closer for them to admire the illustration.

Patience peeks around Perseverance, wanting to see it too. Epic holds it up for them. A grin coming to their face, as they point out the bunnies drawn on the page. Integrity scoots closer to coo and awe at the bunnies.

Picking up where he left off, narrating the tale of fluffy bunny.

Clover perks up at the mention of a fox. “Hehe! Reminds me of Ceroba.” They think fondly back to their journey in the underground. Taking note of most of the confused faces. Quick to explain who she is. “She was the one who….” Their sentence trails off. Epic notices Clover’s expression fall to one of sadness.

A moment of silence falls over the group. No one knowing what to say after that.

“Please continue.” Clover’s voice is barely a whisper. Epic nods before going back to reading. The atmosphere begins to get better. Yawning comes from the ghosts. Rubbing their hands over tired eyes.

The book is finished shortly after. He looks to both of his sides to see the six kids sleeping. Their snoring is soft, seemingly at ease. Noticing a shadow above his head, he looks up to see them.

XChara is frowning with arms crossed, glaring down at Epic. He can’t help but give a lopsided smile. “Did you enjoy peek-a-boo with fluffy bruh?” Lowering his voice to not wake the others.

The question takes them off guard. They huff as they turn their body away from him. Scoffing as if they would enjoy s book made for children. “I don’t get how C deals with you. You’re so annoying.” Flipping him off while sticking out their tongue.

A snort comes from him at the sight. He should have expected that type of response. They have a streak of being mean to him. Mostly all bark and no bite. Watching over his shoulder as they sit behind him. A couple seconds later, he can hear them snoring too.

“Goodnight kiddos.” Epic stays put in his place. Waiting for Color and Cross to return.

[monstersandmaw]

Male gnoll x gn reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 

As promised, the modern gnoll story is here!

Content: insecure, squishy, gender and body neutral reader; praise kink from gnoll boy if you squint; penetrative sex, knotting.

There's also very fleeting mention of a young, terminally ill patient passing off-screen. If you want to skip that entirely, skip from: "Halfway through the third time you encountered him there though, he got a call on his phone and his whole demeanour changed." to the paragraph beginning: "Three days later, and you’d been to the gym every day in the hopes of catching him, you hadn’t seen him."

Wordcount: 6934

You stared at the weights rack and felt a bead of sweat roll down your spine that had nothing to do with your previous sets.

This would be the heaviest you’d ever attempted to chest press, and while it might not be much by some people’s standards — that half-orc last week had really put you off your stride by snorting at you, but we can’t all be built like brick fucking walls, can we? — it was more than you’d tried so far. But you were ready. You just… needed someone to spot for you. Just in case. Safety first, and all that.

But the only people in the weights section were the kind of people who, through no real fault of their own, you tended to find nauseatingly intimidating. Like that troll who could probably bench press one of you in each hand. Or that werewolf who was fully shifted and currently on her hundredth(?) chin-up on the bars. Or that gnoll. He’d been doing slow, measured bicep curls for the past five minutes and you’d been trying not to stare at him. Most male gnolls were a bit smaller than their female counterparts, and tended to be less aggressive and competitive in the gym, but this guy was huge.

You must have looked a little too long though, because his dark, rounded ear twitched and he turned his head to look at you. Instead of glaring at you, he offered you a wide, friendly grin that showed off his massive, chunky teeth and made you a bit weak at the knees. Always good to go weak at the joints when you were about to attempt a personal best in the weights section at the gym…

Fuck.

“You ok?” he asked, setting down a dumbbell that was heavy enough to double as a battleship anchor, and you swallowed.

Now or never.

“I…” you croaked and cleared your throat, looking down at the bench and back up at him.

“You want someone to spot for you?” he asked, stepping a little closer. His paws were massive and while he had clothes on — black gym shorts and a big, baggy, white tank top — he wore no shoes. His claws flexed as his dark, smoky brown pads spread to take his weight, and you swallowed again. He had really adorable freckle-like spots up his shaggy legs too.

“If you wouldn’t mind?” you finally managed to squeak.

At that, he beamed at you and gave a gnollish giggle that seemed genuinely pleased. “Happy to.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and took a breath for courage. No going back now.

You lay down on the bench and he came to stand behind the rack. His big, clawed hands hooked under the bar but he didn't take any of its weight as you adjusted your grip and got settled, and prepared to lift it free. He loomed over you, his face serious with concentration. It was a comfort to know he was focused on the task, not gawping around at the other gym-goers. The future integrity of your chest and ribs depended on his concentration if your arms failed you, after all. You had no doubts about his strength though. He really was massive.

Getting your breathing under control, you shoved carefully upwards, and he grinned as you took its weight and began your reps. After five, you felt your arms start to burn, but you pushed on towards ten.

At nine, your muscles shuddered in complaint.

“You’ve got this,” he said in a low, quiet rumble, and it spurred you on to do the last one. You hooked it back in place and met his dark brown eyes. “Nailed it,” he grinned, all teeth and joy. “I reckon you can go up another five kilograms…”

“I’m not sure,” you replied, sitting up carefully and swinging your feet off to one side. The idea of making it heavier seemed overwhelming.

“I’ll spot you again, don’t worry,” he said, reaching for a couple of the smallest weight plates from the rack and slotting them easily onto the end of your bar. “But you definitely had some in the tank. Take a minute, have a drink, and go again.”

His quiet, easy conviction was enviable, but it sparked something in you that had been dormant for a long time. Or maybe it had been smothered into dormancy. Either way, it felt a lot like the echo of self-confidence, though the feeling was unfamiliar these days.

When you set down your water bottle and paused to let your muscles relax after the first set of reps, your eye was caught by a wiry looking goblin doing weighted squats on the far side of the room. She had iron grey hair and looked to be in her sixties or seventies, and you felt the heat of shame flood your cheeks when you realised she was lifting more than you could, at half your height and a fraction of your body-weight.

Seeing where you were looking, the gnoll gave a little snicker and said, “Oh boy, don’t compare yourself to Rose, friend. I’ve seen her outlast full-grown orcs in friendly pull-up competitions, and she can plank for an hour without breaking a sweat. Goblins are made of steel, I swear. Focus on your own journey.”

You laughed, feeling stupidly grateful to him for his kind reassurance.

“Come on. Give it a go?” he said, and you nodded and lay back. “I’ll be here. I won’t let you hurt yourself,” he added.

It was a struggle, but you made it to five before you needed a pause, and he hooked his rough-padded fingers under the bar and took the weight for a second.

“Breathe, and then just five more.”

Somehow when he said it like that, it didn’t seem so bad.

Things got tricky at eight, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through, and when you hit ten and he took it from you, your arms felt like wet noodles, but you’d done it.

“Alright!” he exclaimed as you sat up and cast him a sidelong look. He offered his paw for a high-five, and, embarrassed by his enthusiasm for you, you answered it. The pads of his paws were rough and warm, and his entire hand almost engulfed yours. When you lowered your gaze again, you could just see his little tail wagging back and forth and that finally brought a huge smile to your face. How long had it been since someone was genuinely excited for your achievements?

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice cracking a bit. “That was really kind of you. I’m sorry I interrupted your workout.”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “Happy to help, and you smashed it! I’ll leave you to get on, but shout if you need me to spot for you again.”

“Thanks,” you said, but your shyness returned, and you didn’t trouble him again that session.

Three days later, you were back in the gym with your muscles mostly recovered. On the ground floor of the building, there was a huge swimming pool and as you passed the viewing window you could see a couple of humans and a few orcs and perhaps an elf doing serious, focused laps in the swimming lanes, barely making a splash as they powered through the water. This whole ‘fitness drive’ thing was still pretty new to you, and just walking up the stairs into the upper level of the gym where the machines and weights were sparked the same nauseous anxiety in the pit of your stomach that you always experienced at the thought of going to a public gym. You didn’t look like someone who belonged here, with soft edges and extra weight in places it wasn’t conventionally attractive for humans to carry it, and while you weren’t really here to please other people, you were trying to take better care of yourself lately and that, unfortunately, involved exercise.

Your eyes scanned the space and you’d have been lying if you weren’t searching for a flash of honey-coloured fur. There was a large group of orcs messing around in the weights section, so you bailed and headed blindly for the nearest cardio machine, heart pounding in a way that made you want to throw up.

“Guess I’m running today,” you muttered under your breath as you stepped automatically up onto the treadmill. Panic had made you go to this one, and you thought you’d probably look even more stupid if you changed your mind now.

After an overly-long warm-up walk, you cranked it to something manageable and felt your body complain already. You made it to about one kilometre before you had to stop. Deciding to pretend you’d always intended to use it merely as a way to loosen up, you hit the ‘stop’ button and ignored its friendly advice to do a cool down, grabbing your water bottle from the holder and turning around to see if there was enough room in the weights area for you to slink in and do a few reps.

And there, looking at you across the room, was the gnoll from before.

Your heart flip-flopped in your chest, first with delight and then with horror as you realised he must have seen you lumbering away on the treadmill. Fuck.

But when he met your eye, he grinned, showing all his teeth, and he waved. You smiled back, and wove your way through the bristling array of cardio machines to join him.

“Hey,” he said, scratching behind one large ear with his right paw. “I wasn’t sure if you were a regular… I kind of thought I might never see you again.”

“No, I’m usually wheezing away in a corner at around this time every few days,” you snorted.

He didn’t laugh at your self-deprecating humour though, and instead turned his muzzle towards the weights. “You need someone to spot for you again?”

You bit your lip. “Yeah, I guess. You can be my cheerleader again too if you like,” you added with a spur-of-the-moment burst of bravery.

“Gladly,” he giggled, tail wagging back and forth. “You wanna do a few warm up rounds first? I just got here, so I’m kind of cold anyway.”

As before, when you were ready, he came over and stood at the head of the bench, hands ready to catch the bar. It was harder to concentrate this time round, with him looming over you. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, though he had that distinctive hunch that gnolls’ unique biology lent to their kind where werewolves were more upright.

When he took the bar from you at the end of your first set of reps, his fingers brushed yours and you nearly gasped at how velvet-soft his fur was. “Thank you,” you said, and as you sat up to take your short break, you introduced yourself by name.

“I’m Cade,” he replied, and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

Conscious that your palms were probably super sweaty, you tried not to flush hot and make it even worse, and you slid your hand into his. Again, the size of him was striking, and you felt something in your core tighten and start to tingle at the sight of it, let alone the feel of his paw flexing around your hand. His claws were dark and neatly rounded and you wondered what he did for a living. Most gnolls — not that you knew any personally — seemed to have active, outdoorsy jobs, but there was something about him that made you curious.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, and you got back to it with a shy smile. “Ah, come on. It’s not that bad, is it? You might even learn to love it soon.”

“It’s better with company,” you admitted as you took the weight of the bar and looked up just in time to watch his face go from serious to delighted at the compliment. “Not sure I’ll ever come to love it though. Not the way you seem to.”

He grinned and giggled gnollishly — the sound high and bright and a little silly coming from someone so intimidatingly built — and you couldn’t help the way your heart felt a little lighter and your body a little more energised. “I did consider changing careers to become a personal trainer for a while,” he said while you started to count your second set.

“Oh?” You didn’t have the breath to ask anything more articulate, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Mm. I just enjoy helping people out, I guess.”

“What do you do now for work?” you asked in a bit of a garbled rush between reps six and seven.

“I’m a paediatric nurse,” he said, and you nearly dropped the bar on your chest. He reached down and snatched it before it had even dropped an inch, and he shot you a look. “Don’t worry, I’m used to that reaction,” he said with a wink. “I was expecting it.”

“Sorry,” you said. Jeez, what a charmer. “I just… I wouldn’t have thought… you know… I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” he said. “Come on, get to ten and I’ll tell you the rest.”

You pushed through the last three and he took the bar and rested it on its hooks, allowing you to sit up with thrumming muscles in your shoulders and arms. You stretched out and twisted your neck to look up at him from your seat on the bench.

“We have a bad reputation still,” he sighed, “But actually, traditionally, male gnolls are the caretakers in our clans. Historically, the females did all the fighting and protecting, and we raised the cubs and taught them the basics before they went on to train with the females.” He shot you a cheeky look and added, “Statistically, male gnolls are the least likely of almost all species to be aggressive, so despite appearances, we make perfect caretakers. The kids at the hospital love me, once they get past the teeth and the size.”

“I can see why,” you said faintly.

Cade pulled a wide smile and eyed the bar. “Go for three sets this time?”

You did, and when you were done, you thanked him, and then headed to grab a kettle bell to do some other exercises. If both of you kept sneaking glances at each other for the rest of your session, well, at least it wasn’t just you.

Halfway through the third time you encountered him there though, he got a call on his phone and his whole demeanour changed. You’d been doing some lower-weight dead lifts, and as you set the bar down on the mat you watched all the joy bleed out of him; his tail bristled high and stiff, his ears swivelled back almost flat against his head, and his big brown eyes went wide with distress.

“Shit, now?” he hissed, turning away from you. “Fuck. Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can. No, don’t worry about it. Thanks for telling me. Ok, I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up, took a deep breath, and then slowly looked over his shoulder at you. “I… I have to go. I’m sorry. Don’t try any more without someone to spot for you, ok?”

You nodded. “You alright?”

He bit his lip and shook his head. “No, not really. One of my patients is… Uh… Yeah. Not long left, apparently.”

“Oh shit, Cade,” you said, crossing to him. You laid your hand on his fluffy forearm and squeezed the solid muscle beneath your fingers. He seemed to relax just a fraction at that. “You need someone to give you a lift to the hospital? My car’s outside.”

Again, he bit his lip and then nodded. “You wouldn’t mind? I was gonna get the bus.”

You shook your head. “Of course not. Let’s go.”

He was mostly silent for the journey, his knee bouncing as he sat crammed into in the front of your car, but when you approached the main entrance to the hospital, he said, “You can just use the drop-off at the front. Thank you again. I’ll… I’ll see you around, ok?”

You nodded and reached for his arm again. “Take care of yourself.”

He smiled, gave a low rumbling noise that you’d never heard him make before, and then climbed out and strode into the hospital without a backward glance. You looked down at the seat and found a fair few golden hairs stuck to the fabric, and didn’t have the heart to brush them away.

Three days later, and you’d been to the gym every day in the hopes of catching him, you hadn’t seen him. Your mood was decidedly flat as you stepped out into the fresh night air and tried to plaster on a smile when your best friend uncoiled his muscular, python’s tail from the back of the taxi that was waiting at the curb and flung his arms around you. His dark brown skin had a pearlescent shimmer to it and his long, thick brown hair was plaited into a thick braid that hung down his spine. He wore a glittery, black shirt studded with a rainbow of rhinestones that matched the iridescent gleam that seemed to hover over his snake’s tail too, and he had the most exquisitely neat makeup on that you’d ever seen.

“Gods, Mal, you look incredible,” you wheezed as he hugged you.

“You look good too, sweetheart,” he grinned back. “Any sign of your delicious little puppy at the gym today? No, of course not. If there had been, you wouldn’t looked like a kicked puppy yourself. Come on. It’s my birthday. You’re not allowed to mope,” he said, and he practically bundled you into the back of the taxi before going round to the other side and piling in beside you.

He gave the driver the name of the club, and the car set off.

“There’ll be so many beautiful people there tonight, you’ll forget all about this gnoll of yours, I swear,” he practically purred in your ear, and you tried to smile.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” you said, and you drew an envelope from your clutch and handed it to him.

He frowned. “What’s this? We don’t do cards or presents anymore, sweetie,” he scowled, but he did look secretly pleased.

“Couldn’t resist this one,” you shrugged.

The card was nothing very special, just a lame joke about not throwing a hissy fit on your birthday, but it predictably made Mal groan and roll his eyes. “Really, darling? Didn’t we get over the reptile jokes in kindergarten?”

You did manage to muster a heartfelt smirk at that, and waved your hand. “I couldn’t resist,” you said again.

“You’re awful. I love you so much,” he laughed, and tugged you into a sideways hug in his arms. “You’re the only person I tolerate this kind of shit from, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

For a long moment, Mal held you and then he let you go and sighed softly. “I want you to be happy, you know?” he said. “You’ve been, like… ‘background miserable’ for ages.”

“I’ll try,” you said. It had been easier until Cade had vanished.

The club was packed already, but Mal dragged you to the front of the line and the two of you were admitted like celebrities and shown to the VIP area of the club. Perks of being with the brother of the owner, you supposed. Yves came over to greet you and his brother and to wish Mal a happy birthday. His present, it turned out, was unlimited drinks for the two of you all night.

For an hour, you and Mal chatted and drank leisurely, and watched the people out on the dance floor that was slightly below your booth, but just as Mal slithered with enviable elegance off the bench and started to make his way towards the dance floor, dragging you along with him, you caught sight of the familiar shape of a gnoll’s ears and froze so abruptly that your hands were torn from Mal’s grip.

“What, Sweets?”

You frowned, trying to make out the figure that was across the space, apparently also being dragged by his friends onto the floor. It was him. It was Cade. You had to laugh, and just as you did, he looked up.

His jaw dropped and he fell utterly still as well, then he laughed and shook his head.

“No way,” Mal breathed, now leaning in to hiss in your ear. “That’s him?”

“Yeah,” you said, and as Cade joined you, Mal — the cheeky shit that he was — gave you a solid shove between your shoulder blades.

You stumbled forwards and Cade shot his hands out to catch you before you planted face-first onto the dance floor. You whipped around the moment he had steadied you, and shot Mal the most venomous glare you could, and then turned back to Cade. “Thanks,” you yelled above the music. “My meddling best friend isn’t exactly known for his subtlety.”

“It’s ok,” Cade chuckled. “It’s good to see you. Sorry I haven’t made it to the gym lately. You find someone to spot for you?”

You shook your head and realised you were still holding his forearms. He hadn’t let go either, so neither did you. “How are you doing? I was worried about you when I didn’t see you after… you know…”

He bowed his head in understanding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d worry about me, if I’m honest. I’m good. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, even if it was still really sad. It’s part of the job sometimes though. It’s… It’s not my first. But I’m not here to mope.”

“Why are you here then?” you asked, squeezing his forearm gently as someone knocked into you from the side. “You look about as comfortable as I am in places like this…”

His ears were pricked as far forward as they could go, straining like satellite dishes to catch your words above the thundering music, and the urge to make an inhuman squeak rose up your throat like a physical presence. For someone so huge and muscular, he had no right to look so heartbreakingly cute.

“My friends’ house purchase went through so they decided to celebrate and drag me out with them. You?”

“Mal's birthday. His brother owns the club, so we’ve had free drinks for the night.”

“Nice,” Cade laughed. “You want to dance?”

You did, but it wasn’t something you were any good at. Then again, looking around you, there weren’t many you’d have said were actually dancing. Shyly, you managed a nod, and he grinned at you again, and held out both paws. You slid your hands into them and he exhaled, his chest falling noticeably.

“What?”

“You’re so small,” he said. “I… I’m so afraid I’m going to crush you all the time.”

“You won’t,” you smiled, and stepped even closer to him. Close enough to smell the soft musk that rose from his fur. Close enough to see the lights reflected in his coffee-dark eyes and watch the way the pale whiskers on his dark muzzle splayed wide with his anticipation. In the lights you noticed that the white trim of fur along the outer edge of his ears looked like a fine line of silver. “You’re really beautiful, Cade,” you whispered, certain that the music would drown your words, but he pulled his dark lips back in a broad grin and dipped his head shyly.

He turned you in his arms so that your back was to his chest and he stepped a little closer, moving his hands to your waist. You tried to fight the self-consciousness that roared to life like a wildfire in your mind, and when he felt you tense, he leaned down and murmured in your ear, “Is this alright?”

You nodded and leaned back into him, looking up at his pale throat and chest. It was a surprisingly familiar view by now after your sessions in the gym. He was wearing loose jeans that ended at the knee, the way many non-humans did, and he had a black t-shirt on that fitted his muscular frame beautifully. His red-gold mane melted into the dark fur of his ears and the creamy underside of his chin and neck, and you wanted to melt against him and have him hold you forever.

“Yes,” you exhaled. “It’s just been a while, that’s all.”

“We can go however slow you like, but you should know I like you,” he said in a low, inviting rumble. He pressed his cold nose carefully against your cheek and then nuzzled you with his jaw. “A lot. Gods, you smell amazing,” he blurted, as if he couldn't help himself.

That self-conscious heat evolved into something entirely different, and pure want coursed through you instead. You ached again and your body seemed to prickle all over with desire.

His hands drifted a fraction lower, to frame your hips, and his fingers dug into your soft flesh. Above the music you heard him give a long, deep lowing sound; primal and visceral and honest in its appreciation, and it made you shiver.

You lost track of time as you danced together. It wasn’t so much ‘dancing’ as ‘sharing the same space and touching wherever you could both get away with it before it became completely indecent’.

At one point, when you’d turned to face him again, someone nudged into you from behind and a hand wandered over your back, and you flinched closer to Cade. He pulled his lips back and showed all his teeth, and the human who had wandered too close to your corner of paradise shied away with hands raised.

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type,” you said, and Cade growled at you instead.

“I’m not,” he said. “But I am protective. If you want to leave here with someone else tonight instead of me, I won’t stop you.”

“I don’t want to,” you said, placing your hand on the centre of his chest. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go home with you tonight either, but I do want your number and I do want to see you again.”

He smiled, and drew his phone from his back pocket. He twitched his muzzle towards the edge of the dance floor and then offered you his palm, leading you through the jostling crowd towards a quieter spot and shielding you with the bulk of his body when you had to force your way through the crush. You exchanged numbers, and then he looked over your shoulder and said, “Your friend is coming over.”

You turned to find Mal easing his way around the edge of the dance floor. He was moving slowly, carefully, the way he did when he was very drunk and trying not to show it. “Ah, man, I’ll have to get him home safely,” you sighed. “I guess this is goodbye for now.”

Cade nodded. “I’ll see you both to a cab if you like.”

“You are protective,” you chuckled.

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.”

“No, you’re not,” you smiled. “If you like, you can get on the other side of Mal and see that he doesn’t slither off somewhere.”

The two of you wrangled a very curious and very obvious Mal into the back of a cab, and Cade came to stand with his hands on your waist. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his ears tilted back in a perfect display of meek shyness.

“Yes,” you exhaled.

He lowered his head and brought his muzzle to your lips. His mouth was soft against yours and he pressed his lips against you and then let the very tip of his tongue lave over your lips while his rough hands rose to cup your jawline and hold your face delicately. Cade didn’t spend long kissing you, since it was evident that this was a human gesture for which his body was not really built, but he did move to nuzzle your cheek with the velvet fur of his muzzle before stepping back and breathing out a long sigh.

Before he could say anything sweet or romantic, Mal opened the door and half his tail spilled back out onto the tarmac, and he cursed. “Fuck. I just wanted to say to hurry the fuck up because I’m cold and drunk and I don’t want to sit the back of this cab any longer than I have to,” he slurred, his forked tongue thick with drink. “Sorry,” he tacked on a little late.

Cade chuckled and helped you tuck Mal’s python tail back into the car for a second time, and you shook your head. “I’m so sorry,” you said, and squeezed his arm. “I’ll see you at the gym? And I’ll text you.”

He nodded, and you got in to the taxi next to Mal and shot him a flat look. “That was not cool,” you said. “You only get a free pass because it’s your birthday.”

And with that, you told the driver his address, and then, when Mal was safely inside and a little more sober, you headed home.

A text was waiting from Cade but you saved it for when you were finally ready for bed, and as you lay there in the dark, you opened your messages with a little trepidation.

>> You looked so beautiful tonight. I was *this* close to not going out tonight, but I’m so glad I did. I hope you got back ok and that the birthday boy isn’t going to suffer too much. I’ll be at the gym tomorrow. Perhaps we can grab a coffee somewhere afterwards if you’re going to be around? Night, and sleep well. C x <<

You read it through four times before you replied, and after that, you saw each other every day for a fortnight solid.

It started with coffee after the gym and then progressed to drinks, and then drinks and a snack, and then dinner, and then dinner and a movie, and then dinner and the same movie again because there was nothing else on that you wanted to watch, and then dinner and a stroll along the riverbank while the city lights twinkled around you. Finally, after two weeks of meeting every day, he took your hands in his and kissed you silly on one of the bridges over the river.

He nuzzled you afterwards and let out all these delicious, gnollish noises that made your heart skip and dance and skitter around like a trapped bird in your ribcage.

“I want you,” you gasped as he leaned you back a little way and closed his mouth around your neck, raking his teeth oh so gently across your skin. He froze, and then drew back.

“You mean it?” he asked in an equally soft voice. His dark eyes were huge and his ears frankly adorable as they swivelled first back against his head in uncertainty and then pricked forwards in undeniable hope. His tail rose high and fluffy behind him and you giggled softly.

“Yes, I mean it,” you laughed. “I want you.”

“Now?”

“Not ‘now on this bridge’,” you snorted. “Now as in tonight. Now as in take me home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Whose is closer?” you asked in a decidedly hoarse voice.

He paused. “Mine, probably.”

“Then let’s go there.”

He held your hand all the way there, and stopped at least five more times to nuzzle you and kiss you.

You’d been to his a couple of times before during your whirlwind courtship, but you’d only cuddled on the sofa while eating popcorn and watching reruns of your favourite shows. This time, you didn't bother with the sofa.

You kicked off your shoes at the door and he backed you towards the bedroom, growling and making those delicious, low-frequency lowing sounds in a constant, rumbling song. He loomed over you, but you grinned up at him and tugged at the lower hem of his black t-shirt.

He tore it off over his head to reveal the coarse, ivory fur of his chest and throat, and you reached for him, watching as your fingers disappeared into it. He growled — actually growled — when you scrunched your fingers and tugged experimentally, and you looked up at him again. He was panting softly, eyes half-lidded with his muzzle tilted upwards a fraction.

“Bed. Now,” you said in an unusually assertive voice.

Cade gasped and then simply picked you up by the hips. You looped your legs around his middle and let him carry you into his bedroom, where he deposited you carefully onto the bed and leaned down over you. It didn’t take you long to discard your clothes and he stared at you in wonder when you lay back again.

He was hard and as he rutted through his jeans against your thigh, you arched your back off the bed and moaned. “Now, Cade. Please.”

You ached all over and you’d never been this turned on in all your life. Every nerve ending seemed to have been dialled up to eleven and every time his rough paws skimmed over your skin, you gasped and jerked and groaned.

“So sensitive,” he purred, leaning back to undo his jeans and cast them aside. His boxers came next, and you tried not to stare at the size of him. You hoped you could take him.

He knelt between your legs and gently bit and mouthed his way up your inner thighs before closing his mouth over you and letting his tongue savour you. It should have been unnerving to have the most powerful jaws of almost any creature on land so close to where you were most delicate, but it sent a thrill up your spine instead. He moved his head between your legs and you let your hand rest between his ears, guiding his pace and taming his ardour a little.

Cade drew back, his eyes glassy and his muzzle wet with a combination of your arousal and his drool, and he rasped, “You taste incredible.”

“I want to come with you inside me,” you moaned. “I want you to knot me, Cade.”

His eyes fluttered and rolled at that and he gripped his cock in one hand as though trying to stave off his own orgasm already. “Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck, that’s about the hottest thing you could have said to me. I’m really not gonna last long now. Oh fuck, I can already feel —”

“Cade, inside me. Now.”

“You’re sure?”

“Cade…” There was a growl to your voice too.

His cock was leaking all over his hand, all over the back of his fingers, and he wasn’t even working himself. You weren’t going to need any extra help to ease him inside you, but you were going to need him to take it gently.

“Slowly,” you warned as he lined himself up. He nodded, looking nervous and earnest.

The tip of his cock nudged inside you and you groaned and lay back, enjoying the huge stretch of him. Cade, meanwhile, bit back a curse and began to shake all over.

“I can’t,” he gasped. “Please… I…”

“Keep going,” you said, sounding gloriously winded already and he was only a little way inside you. “Don’t stop.”

The gnoll let out a long, lowing groan and then braced himself on both arms. You drew your knees up to help him and he began to pant again. “Fuck,” he cursed as he eased himself further inside you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I can’t I’m… I’m going to come… fuck, you’re tight. Oh fuck, beautiful, I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you crooned, though the seduction in your voice was a little strangled by the intensity of the stretch as he eased almost all the way into you. “You can wait for me, I know you can. You’re so good; you’re so kind, Cade. You’re going to make this amazing for me, I know you are…”

At the string of praise, his heavy jaws parted to show all his thick, sharp teeth and he began to shake with the effort of not plunging into you in a single stroke until finally, finally, he was seated inside you to the hilt of his cock.

“See?” you said, reaching for the ruff around his neck and threading your fingers into the depths of the soft fur.

He keened and began to rock his hips. “Please… Please can I move now?”

“Yes, Cade. Let me feel all of you inside me.”

What began as a slow, careful slide of his huge cock inside you hastened to a desperate rhythm in minutes. His hips snapped against yours and you felt the weight of his balls as they rocked against you with each thrust. Cade was whining with each stroke, and you realised that the delicious stretch was growing, and each time he withdrew, it was a little less far.

“You’re going to knot me, aren’t you?” you gasped, drawing your knees up even further so that he hit you just-so with the tip of his cock at the apex of each desperate thrust.

“Mmnn,” he whimpered. “Fuck. I’m so close. You’re so gorgeous. Been thinking about this since… since we danced. Gods, I wanted to fuck you that night. Came all over myself when I got home. Popped a knot and everything, oh fuck, oh fuck you’re so tight I’m going to come, I’m so close, I’m going to come, can I come? Please let me come, beautiful, please let me fill you —”

His babbling, rambling pleas devolved into another gnollish low and he threw his head back, picking up the desperate pace. His hands grabbed your hips and his claws pricked your skin as he pulled you further onto his growing knot with every thrust. Delirious pleasure coursed through you and you barely had the presence of mind left to give him the permission he clearly craved.

“Yes, come for me,” you slurred. “Come inside me, Cade. Fill me —”

With a roar, his hips snapped against yours one last time and his whole body locked up. His lips pulled back from his huge teeth into a rictus of ecstasy and his eyes rolled as he came in huge, shuddering waves, lost to the pleasure of your body as his knot finally swelled to fill you and the sensation of it tipped you over the edge as well. As your body clenched around him, he cursed again and tugged you somehow even further onto his knot. His hips spasmed against you and you could feel him emptying himself into you in waves.

It was a long time before he stopped coming, and even with his knot plugging you tight, you felt some of his come start to leak out around you already, spilling down your thighs and onto the sheet. “Fuck,” he hissed again, and his body went suddenly slack, though his chest was still heaving for breath.

He fell forwards over you and braced himself at the last second on his forearms. You lowered your legs and he grunted as the movement jolted his over-sensitive knot, but you stayed there for a long time.

Gradually, your breathing settled into the same rhythm and your heartbeats slowed, and a leaden satisfaction descended into your whole body. You felt full, and cherished as he held you.

You lost track of time as you lay there together, but finally his knot receded and you felt a lot more of his come start to slide down your thighs. “Making a mess,” you mumbled from where you were half-buried by the soft fur near his ear.

“Mmph.”

“If you’re expecting me to have put on enough muscle to chest press you off me, you’re sorely mistaken,” you quipped, and to your joy, he gave a delighted, gnollish giggle and lifted his head enough to regard you with his slightly unfocused, dark brown eyes.

“You’re really something,” he said, and he let his pink tongue just grace the tip of your nose. “You sore? You want me to run you a bath?”

“Oof, yes please,” you smiled. No one had ever offered to do that for you after sex, and you were indeed a little sore from where he’d stretched you further than anyone ever had.

He lifted himself off you carefully, withdrawing from you and giving a little grunt as his softening cock slid free. He sat back on his haunches and ran his thumbs over the curve of your thighs, staring at where you knew you were probably gaping a bit. It was hard not to feel embarrassment until he murmured, “You’re exquisite.”

Cade leaned over you and fondly raked his upper and lower teeth over the soft flesh of your thigh before laving his tongue over your skin and then finally standing on shaky legs. “Been a while since I came like that,” he admitted shyly as he staggered towards the door. “Think I might skip leg day tomorrow and just chill out here.”

“I’ll join you,” you said. “I may never regain feeling in my legs.”

“I’ll carry you around anyway,” he grinned as he left and went to run the bath.

True to his word, Cade did carry you around his apartment the next day, and your feet barely touched the ground from the moment you woke to the moment you fell asleep in his bed for the second night in a row.

You weren’t exactly complaining though. It was heaven.

__

I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like. Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)