#anyways this was shockingly easy to write.

[crushmeeren]

🍓Kirishima SFW & NSFW Headcannons

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you aren’t into it

Warnings; daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, hair pulling, mentions of choking, throat fucking, pussy eating, vaginal sex, Kirishima spits into readers mouth and you swallow that shit happily, cream pie, sweet aftercare, sleepy sex

Note; I’m in love with Kirishima, I’ve been writing a lot of headcannons lately but I simply could not resist the urge to write about the overgrown puppy that is Kirishima. Enjoy this meal with me 🍓

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Eijirou who is the actual human embodiment of a ray of sunshine (he is the definition of golden retriever energy—you know if he had a tail it would wag non stop, definitely smacking the shit out of you)

Eijirou who you met for the first at the gym—you were uncomfortable & unsure of what you were doing when this mountain of a man with bright ass red hair came up to you so shy and explained how to back squat without hurting yourself (this fucker had the sweetest smile, despite his sharp teeth—but Jesus Mother Mary & Joseph—you thought you would fall to your knees just looking at him)

Eijirou who stuttered and turned pink every time you asked him to be your spotter whenever you saw him at the gym, until finally he asked for your number (you were gonna ask for his if he didn’t do it first—you definitely did not fist pump afterwards)

Eijirou who is a heart stopping amount of stacked, but is the biggest softie you have ever met, who gets overly excited to play with your dog-wrestling with him and cuddling him (you swear your dog now loves Eiji more than you, ever since you moved in together they’re two peas in a pod- much to your chagrin)

Eijirou who is really smart — okay maybe not top dog when it comes to book smart but he is street smart and exceptional at reading people, who always knows how you’re feeling even when you don’t say anything (it’s always a relief that he can tell when you don’t feel like talking)

Eijirou who is oblivious to how he looks, who has a shit ton of of instagram followers—not because he tries, no it’s because he started posting pictures of himself at the gym just for fun and unbeknownst to him everything he posts is like a goddamn thirst trap (he only realizes after you point it out because you’re starting to get jealous of all the comments but he always says he only has eyes for you)

Eijirou who almost never says no to you, who always goes with the flow, an easy smile lighting up his face, who lets you pick out the movie for date night more often than not (you make sure to pick something he likes anyways)

Eijirou who really likes cherry twizzlers, who has literal hearts in his eyes whenever you buy him a pack every Friday (he coos adorably at you when you hand him the bag saying you’re so sweet to me pretty girl, I love you so much! How did I get so lucky??), who shares them with you anyways

Eijirou who loves to wear athletic clothes—but also likes to dress punk?? (he’s very diverse), who has his ears pierced (two on each lobe), who looks otherworldly when he wears nicer outfits (you definitely make the joke about his clothes looking better on your floor)

Eijirou who is best friends with Katsuki, (you’ve shockingly been able to become close to him as well), who often plays video games online with his friends (Katsuki, Denki, Sero, also Izuku & Shouto), who likes it when you sit on the floor between his legs while he plays

Eijirou who purrs like a cat when you scratch his scalp whenever his hair is down, who lays his head in your lap while you watch TV so you can continue to play with his hair, who falls asleep halfway through the movie because he feels too relaxed

Eijirou whose presence is calming and friendly, who makes you feel safe, who everyone likes (you’ve never heard a bad word said about him—you’d curb stomp anyone who did)

Eijirou who has made you feel more loved then anyone else you’ve ever been with before, who fills your chest with a warmth so intense your eyes often sting with tears—who brings you your favorite food or drink out of blue, who makes you laugh so hard your stomach cramps (he’s the funniest motherfucker you know)

Eijirou who has become your other half, like a limb you didn’t realize was missing all this time, who becomes your husband, who becomes the father of your children, who you share a love with that only comes once every five life times (you know you’ll never love anyone else no matter what comes your way)

🍓NSFW Headcannons Below🍓

Eijirou who kisses you so softly, lips sliding with yours lazily as he lets out little sighs, thumbs slipping under your shirt to tease the smooth skin over your hip bones as you straddle him—until he lets his sharp teeth snag on your bottom lip, chomping into the flesh there, wrenching a startled gasp out of you (he sucks on it apologetically afterwards)

Eijirou who has a thing for letting you dry hump him (while you’re both still clothed), head thumping back on the couch cushion, fingers tight on your waist, flushing, groaning, eyes fluttering shut as he helps you drag your clit back and forth over his cock—dick throbbing painfully from the friction through his jeans

Eijirou who has a switch that flips once he gets to a certain level of aroused, who tosses you onto the bed effortlessly, caging you between his arms, who grips your jaw tightly —forcing it to pop open (he spits possessively into your mouth, telling you to swallow it baby girl, which you do gladly)

Eijirou who loves the feel of your hot, wet mouth sucking his cock, who gets you sitting on your calves on the floor, back against the mattress as his fingers hold the back of your head in place, so he can fuck your throat, who keeps one knee up on the bed next to your head as he thrusts, groin tightening when you look at him with teary eyes (he murmurs lowly baby girl s’good at sucking daddys cock aren’t you? —Your pussy drools)

Eijirou who eats your pussy from behind, soft tongue consistently licking at your clit, fingers stretching your pussy as your face is shoved into the sheets, ass in the air for him, your belly flutters warmly as he smacks your ass with his free hand (it doesn’t take you long to cum like this)

Eijirou whose cock is thick, and you’re talking thick thick, enough that he has to get you dripping before he can get his dick wet (but you love it, the stretch is almost an overwhelming pleasure)

Eijirou who has a daddy kink, who makes you beg for his cock when he has you folded in half—knees almost touching your ears, he teases your pussy with his tip telling you condescendingly you gotta ask daddy nicely if you want to be split open sweetheart (you absolutely do sob daddy please)

Eijirou whose chest gets slick with sweat (hair always falling from its spiky position when you start to go at it), whose moans raise in pitch when he can feel your nipples slipping over & over on his pecs as he fucks you, the sensation making pleasure blister through your limbs, pussy fluttering which makes Eijirou cry out

Eijirou who has a filthy deep stroke, who pants & whispers toe curling praise in your ear but fucks you like he’s trying to carve out your guts, you weave your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply as he moves, (pussy s’good to me sweet thing, daddy loves fucking you, such a tight little thing)

Eijirou who growls under his breath when he fucks you from behind, sliding his cock back in your pussy all the way to the root, forcing a choked sob out of you, who is brutal from the get go, pelvis smacking wetly against yours

Eijirou who makes you cum instantly, wailing please daddy just like that! when he threads his fingers through your hair, forcing your neck back at a sharp angle, activating his quirk just enough on his left hand so he can leave bruises on your hip (oh? right there angel? that was a big one wasn’t it baby, so good cumming for daddy — voice dripping in your belly like honey)

Eijirou who pulls you up into his lap, back against his chest, hand around your throat as he bounces you on his cock, who makes your back arch as he bites on your shoulder, whining lowly as he cums, whose cock you can feel pulsing as his sticky release fills you up (fuck daddy, love when you cum in me — that makes his eyes roll back)

Eijirou who has you limping to the shower afterwards, but he washes your body, rubs your lower back, who tells you how much he loves you as he carries you back to the bed in a towel, who makes you giggle as he pokes your ribs when you change into one of his large T-shirts

Eijirou whose face you pepper with kisses when he climbs into the bed with you, who lets you wake him up in the middle of the night to ride him sweet and slow, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, limbs heavy with sleep, who cradles you against his chest when you eventually fall back asleep

#kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #mha kirishima #mha headcanons #kirishima headcanon #mha oneshot #mha smut #kirishima fluff #eijirou x reader #mha eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha kirishima #eijiro kirishima smut #eijiro smut #mha eijirou #kirishima x you #my hero headcanons #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #my hero academy fanfiction #kirishima eijiro smut

[dieaverage]

ROSE-COLORED BOY — eddie munson x female reader

chapter four — wildfire

word count: 3.1k+

PREVIOUS | NEXT

author's note: well, hello, and happy new year!!! we are soooo back, my dear little phone friends. i am, slowly but surely, finding my feet on this wonderful corner of the internet, spreading my nonsensical agendas as i go along. i seriously think if i had discovered it sooner i would either be cured of all my mental preoccupations, or be infinitely more insufferable, there's actually no in between. alas, we are here now, and if you are reading this, thank you and sorry. rose-colored boy is my little passion project for the time being, it's my first proper writing attempt in a long while and admittedly the first time i've ever actually written with an audience in mind, which is as exciting as it is terrifying! this will not be perfect, i fear if i continued striving for that, i never would've gotten here. i am just very appreciative of the fact that anyone has taken an interest in any of what i have to say. anyways christ let me stop yapping before i scare you off entirely, here's chapter four, i sincerely hope you don't hate it, and my inbox is wide open for any thoughts you might have :)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳

The realities of the night before thrashed around in your skull, restoring that acutely fixed pressure point on the bridge of your nose to its former glory as you lay under the homely duvet Joyce had undoubtedly purchased especially in anticipation of your indefinite residence. Part of you hoped, willed, that if you remained there long enough the weighty fabric might consume you whole.

Three gentle taps on the bedroom door immediately ravage any such wishes.

"Good night?" Your lifting of the covers from over your preoccupied head wasn't even necessary to discern the amused smirk across Jonathan's face as he posed the question to the outline of your evidently worse-for-wear frame. Blame it on the alcohol. If only it were that easy.

An unimpressive "Go... away..." is all you can bear to muster up in response. Jonathan wasn't exactly a persistent individual, though your ability to dismiss left even more to be desired. You were not worming your way out of this one, had you been sure you even wanted to.

"So, Hawkins' amenities not up to scratch anymore, city girl?" his attempts to press further poorly masqueraded by the feeble quip.

"He was there." The breathy and shockingly extracted revelation has you sinking impossibly further into the mattress.

"Oh." Some lessons in the art of acting would not go astray here, Jonathan. For a boy who concealed what was, by all accounts, a debilitating crush on Nancy Wheeler for the better part of your middle school careers, the least he could do was make his apparent surprise relatively conceivable.

"Which you already knew, I'm guessing."

Every Wednesday, he'd said. They played there. Every. Single. Wednesday. You dreaded to think how many of those Jonathan and the others had attended. Even more so, how many you'd missed. A sudden throb to your head extricated you from making such calculations.

"So.. did you, uh- you guys talk?"

There it was. You wondered now how much your run-in had been by chance and how much by orchestration. And I would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!, it being your decidedly unresolved dealings with the Munson boy. Or something of that variety. An indiscernible exhale of breath through your nose before answering leaves Jonathan feeling suddenly vulnerable to the very real potential of one of your brutal outbursts. He wondered if he should have armoured up before entering the lion's den. Or at least came bearing gifts (coffee).

"We did."

"Oh, r-really?"

"Yeah! Well, he did, mainly. Wielding profanity-driven throwing knives at me, scolding me for my lengthy absence as if I was some wayward kid and he was my designated custodian. And I mean, I stood there and took it, because, yeah, if we're being honest, maybe I probably deserved some of it. But yeah. A talk was had." A beat. "He's still a fucking prick, though."

Jonathan erupts in uncertain laughter. "Come on, Daph, you know it's all a front. Cut him some slack. You broke his heart."

Those final four words stung as they sliced into your skin, carving out an inescapable pit in your stomach.

"Don't." Your wavering voice an instant traitor of your otherwise assaultive tone.

"Don't what?"

"Say shit like that!" If looks could kill, Jonathan would be well on his way to the nearest ICU. "You never had any idea about our- f-friendship, none of you did. Or what happened to it, for that matter. So, please, Jonathan, because I didn- just- please don't tell me that." The newly impuissant expression on your face troubled Jonathan, as well as what vaguely resembled watering eyes creeping up on you as you now sat so that your wearied body directly opposed his from the other side of the bed. He rarely saw you so... unguarded. It was unsettling.

The thing is, you knew you were wrong. You knew they knew far more than they were willing to admit, or you, willing to accept, about the intricacies of your relationship with Eddie. You knew that he would have confided in them after you left, of course he would have. They had become his best friends as much as yours by the time you, and certainly him, had graduated.

"M'sorry, Daphne."

You extend your arm to Jonathan, placing a reassuring hand on top of his.

"No. My mess." You assure, attempting an equally assertive wink that admittedly lands far less convincingly than you had intended it to.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Jonathan..."

"Look, I'm about to meet Nance for a story we're covering, and we could really use your expertise, Miss Quindlen. She's going to be so stoked to see you."

One exasperated sigh later. "Meeting where, exactly?"

Waves of guilt came crashing over you as soon as Jonathan's car began barrelling down the gravelly entrance of Forest Hills, knocking the breath out of you in their wake. The autumn sun casted an unnerving shadow over the rows of trailers, though your eyes only cared to fixate on one, conveniently fronting what had once been the Hargrove residence, a detail you had never wished to dwell on after that night.

Nevertheless, it appeared you would not be provided the luxury as Jonathan clunkily advanced toward the cul-de-sac, ushering Nancy's infamous Mercury into view, which was stationed adjacent to the antichrist's former dwelling. The deadly silence interrupted by an uncomfortably audible gulp from your place in the passenger seat encouraged Jonathan to state the reassuringly obvious, "Oh, look, she's already here." Not that it assured you of anything other than your escalating sense of dread.

It wasn't just Nancy, but the entire ragtag, it seemed. Well, bar one overbearing, shaggy head of hair, the realisation of which depleting what little wind remained in your sails. His truancy did little to quell your nerves now, as you still faced plenty of bodies deserving of apologies and explanations and more apologies. Great to be back, right?

Maybe.

"Holy shit, Daphne!?!" A combination of suitably juxtaposed mousy curls and fiery red locks came tunnelling towards you, engulfing you in their respective embraces, and unless this was a dismal stab at inducing asphyxiation, they were... happy to see you?

You broke away slightly to plant two affectionate kisses on the foreheads of the Henderson boy and Mayfield girl, causing an uncontrollably winsome blush to paint across the face of the former. The use of descriptors such as 'boy' and 'girl' no longer felt applicable as you took a moment to study their matured faces which beamed undeservedly at your own. They were growing up, just as Will was, once more propelling the heart-rending reality he had so relentlessly driven home for you last night. Time had not stopped moving while you were gone. If anything, it had passed with excruciating acceleration.

The animated pair parted to allow for the emergence of the bashful boy young man who stood watching you unsurely.

"Hi, Lucas." You greeted him with a warm smile which was swiftly returned, silently alerting you that it was safe to approach, and you did, wrapping him in a tight hug before his waggish counterparts rejoined the gladly received envelopment.

"Okay, okay, enough. Before one of you pop a rib." You meant it jokingly for the most part (because if it wasn't yet clear, if there is one thing you revel in it is deflecting candour with humour), but the last year had chipped away at you, eroding what little strength you had managed to hold onto over the years. You couldn't help but wonder how much more it would take for the self-appointed castle to come crumbling down.

"Oh, come on, you've got a few good years left in you." Your innately self-destructive train of thought was broken by a breath of the archetypal Wheeler ribbing you had missed so deeply, fracturing what remained of the already steadily thawing ice as she, finally granted her turn, brought you in for a hermetic hug.

"Nance..." Your shallow breath escaped into the nape of her neck, those nettlesome tears threatening to cascade once more from the tactility of your best friend.

"Hey, stranger."

Return to Hawkins had proved... tumultuous. You felt as though the last twenty four hours had provided an abundance of furore to the otherwise motionless existence you'd led the last six months. Hell, the last four years, if you decided it a fitting time to get candid about your not-so-recent escapades (alas, shocker, you didn't). You knew you could, and would, rhapsodise the time you spent away from the oppressive clutches of Hicksville, USA to anyone who expressed a polite interest, whether for their sake or your own, that much you still weren't certain. But, perched on the hood of the Wheeler's family car, having successfully progressed past the exchanging of niceties and safely onto that effortless display of camaraderie between five faces which beamed at you with such unshakeable adoration that you only reciprocated tenfold, it felt right. More so than any superficially meaningful feat you would anecdotally preen yourself over should you run into an old classmate, educator, failed prosecutor, shaggy-haired Forest Hills inhabitant... I digress.

You were thankful for the many details the timely reunion had inadvertently clarified for you, sparing you the cumbersome burden of having to prod various members of your long-established friend group for the answers outright; you felt this would shine an unnecessarily dazzling light on your prolonged physical (and consequently, emotional) departure, like that one precarious addition who always finds themselves interjecting group discussions with a pitiful, "Wait, who are we talking about? When was this?".

You listened intently as Max recounted, while under the doting enclosure of the Sinclair boy, the belligerent marital breakdown that had occurred between her mom and the enigma that was Neil Hargrove, and how the latter had retreated to California, his contemptible offspring following not long after. He realised there was nothing or no one left in town worth entertaining, or terrorising, Billy always had a seemingly difficult time differentiating between the two. The Hargrove men, having left in a considerable hurry, left what countless ends they had loose, one of which being the grotty trailer Max now resided in with her mother in an attempt to combat their increasingly precarious financial situation. Divorce settlement, Max quipped, yet your heart all but broke at her revelations. From the moment you had formally met her, not two weeks into your entanglement with her now ex-step-brother, you fell head-over-military-inspired-boots in love with her, a love almost as vehement as the detest you had come to cultivate in your core for him. You were the older sister she never wanted, but now that she had, realised she no longer wanted to live without. Although you had never allowed her to realise the full extent of how he had treated you, she knew you were the only other person who clinically understood the layers of atrocity that encompassed Billy Hargrove, aching to be pulled apart, and the only one who cared enough to shield her from them. God, how she had missed you.

Nancy, not at all to your own incredulity, had become in all but name the incisively industrious editor-in-chief of Hawkins Post, and I mean, seriously earned it. You recollected the, what were for you, vexatious years she spent interning for the newspaper in high school, watching as she waited hand and foot on the corroding cadavers that were ostensibly Hawkins' answer to Walter Cronkite. Jonathan was her "right-hand man", as such, though you noted he had been self-appointedly so long before he ever found employment as the Post's resident photojournalist, and a decent one at that, swiftly silencing the plethora of nepotism allegations.

In fact, the only notable absences now were that of who you had christened Dumb and Dumber, formerly known as Steve and Robin (or Robin and Steve, potayto, potahto), who you were sure were still more inseparable than Siamese twins, an impossibility you had taken immense pleasure in declaring time and time again when they had clumsily arrived in late to another of your diligently scheduled shit-talking investigative journalism sessions. "Seriously, one of these days I will have to take a gander at those medical records to ensure the two of you possess entirely independent urinary tract organs."

Your gaze lingered on Dustin, who was looking particularly orphaned, as you recalled the long-standing custody war Harrington and the agonisingly captivating trailer-park-occupant-who-must-not-be-named had undergone for him, an unwanted twitch of your lips threatening to upturn into a, shudder, smile as you did so. The boy must have caught sight of your relatively decipherable stare, offering in return what he intended to be an innocently posed question to the larger part of the group.

"Hey, uh, has anyone seen Eddie?"

The commotion of an infernally on cue entrance ruptured the previously tranquil autumn's day in rural Indiana as it came barrelling out of the opposing trailer in a beeline for the curly headed boy, tackling him to the ground in one brisk motion. His congenital theatricalism put the entirety of that diffident dorp to utter shame. For you, it only had the effect of sending your already taxed circulatory system into overdrive. Like, you felt your heart may as well have been protruding from the caverns of your oesophagus like a particularly vigorous cuckoo clock, and he hadn't even noticed your newly limp frame draped across the Mercury, because, well, just a woeful case of tunnel vision, our Eddie.

"Jesus, Henderson, what are you doing down there, you'll catch your death." He teased as he aided the teenager off the ground, regaining his own composure as he did so, placing two firm, distractingly calloused, silver ring-clad hands on either of his shoulders, comically unaware of the fact your paralysed figure silently loomed over him as the rest of the group watched on impotently. The entire sequence felt painfully pulled out of the best worst horror comedy you've ever seen, like, some hardcore House shit. "Come on, do I got some shit to unpack. You'll never fucking guess who's back in t-"

Thwack!

Thank you, Nancy!

"OW!-n..." As he turned to scold the unidentified Wheeler finger which made sweet, unimpeded contact with his occiput, effortlessly penetrating the dense mane guarding it, the penny dropped. This realisation felt weightier, though, so maybe it was like, I don't know, a quarter or something.

Nut brown M&Ms for eyes attempted to sear an aperture into your own. You'd never thought two orbs you had once so fondly likened to the sugar-coated dragée chocolate confectionery could strike yours so... contemptuously.

And yet, try as they might, their arsonist tendencies were no match for your imperishable glare, an intimidatory tactic you had mastered down to a fine art. He may as well have been trying to set alight Fort Knox with a couple of particularly dull flint stones, a bundle of damp twigs and a dream, and even that would have proved more lucrative than dismantling the penitentiary that was home to your irremediable obstinacy, one nauseatingly formidable glower at a time.

Without as much as a nictate of concession, your address signalled elsewhere. "Your story, Nance. You were saying?"

If he had seriously expected you to be the one to waver in this glorified staring contest, perhaps your departure had been even more cataclysmic than previously thought. A remedial all-things-Daphne-Byers workshop was gravely due, and you were all the more gratified to deliver it.

"Uh, t-, the story, right! Follow me."

Slinging a soothing arm around your farthermost shoulder as she delicately turned your backs on the ungainly group, Nancy breathed a sigh of relief at the timely ejection from the increasingly uneasy atmosphere clouding the Mayfields' front lawn like a hazardous fog. Suddenly she contemplated whether she might have had a vocation as an EOD specialist, having comfortably defused the ticking time bomb that was your seething indignation.

Out of earshot, and into a Wheeler-led cross-examination.

"Do you want to talk, or shall I?"

"About the story, I mean, it is your story, right?"

"Daphne."

Sigh.

"Fine, Nancy, please... put me out of my misery then."

Not that she ever required the invitation, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless.

"Well, let me preface by saying - that was a cold war level standoff, like, holy shit, that was Siberian; and look, by all means, stop me if I'm overstepping," A laughable suggestion, in all honesty, because were you hell about to interject the visibly metastasising fire behind her impassioned cobalt orbs as she geared up for a good ol' fashioned Nancy Wheeler lacerating, which was more like a mild reprimanding, but still not worthy of engulfing the little patience you had left in order to test her own, "but I care about you, and I just feel like too much shit has happened to let the two of you prolong this glorified lovers' quarrel, don't you? It's had four years to run its course, Daphne, surely that's long enough."

"Look, Nance, you are barking up the wrong tree, in fact, you're in the completely wrong fucking forest. Christ, despite the widely verbalised certitude that I haven't stepped foot in this town since I was seventeen, everyone sure as shit wants to berate me like that was only yesterday. I'm an adult, Nancy, as are you now, as is he if the laws of evolution are anything to go by, and if and when he decides to trade in that whole angry-at-the-world outsider shtick he's had going on since high school for an operational backbone, he knows where to find me."

A beat.

"You know I love you, Nance, so much. Which is precisely why I don't wish to concern you, or be concerned, for that matter, with such... juvenile shit anymore, okay? I'm past it, and so are you."

"Maybe. But they're not." The grin she sported as she cast a heedful eye on whatever scene you so fiercely wished to keep your back on was so sickeningly saccharine it coerced any residual irritation out of your enervated bones and onto the sparse communal lawn your eyes were suddenly so fixated with. The collective Forest Hills landscaping ability left a great deal to be desired.

Alas, dissociation only topped the lengthy catalogue of conditions the clinical pragmatist that was Nancy Wheeler had no time for, quickly adjourning your pensive state to guide you back to where a concerned triad remained.

A couple strategically placed sinkholes would not go amiss.

The coterie was noticeably short of one stocky techie and his tachophobically challenged psuedo-dad-who-stepped-up, presumably taking cover nearby while the latter sought a suitably girthy tree trunk to unleash his stifled wrath on. Or to light one up under, whichever impulse prevailed.

The commotion of branches and various other forestry debris contorting under unfamiliar feet from the opposite end of the trailer park perimeter broke your readily resurfacing agitation.

"Nancyyy, hey, we got something!"

Gracelessly floundering out of the shadowy woodland that inundated the Hawkins landscape, none other than your knights in regrettably shining armour, Dumb and Dumber incarnate, Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.

If your memory served you correctly, and it always did, they were essentially sinkholes of the charismatic variety, anyway.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳

taglist <3: @yelyahpfa @avalon-wolf

#rose-colored boy #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #we're so back

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Talent [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@lavendair) Center (@hotchs-big-hands) Right (@muresetivoire)

Prompt: An inebriated Aaron finds out that the readers has a hidden talent and they offer to show him it later. When they get back to his apartment, more sober, Aaron apologizes, feeling awkward for getting them into this situation. They (the reader) honestly asks Hotch if he would let them do it anyway? 

Pairing: Hotch x gender neutral reader. The reader uses they/them/their pronouns 

Catagory: Hurt/comfort/smut 

Word Count: 6.8K 

A/N: Content warnings below the cut. This is a NSFW story. Minors DNI. 18+ only readers for this one. Please respect this boundary. A few things here so please bare with me. This was inspired by a little conversation between @softhairedhotch and @hotchs-big-hands That conversation can be found here (link)

I loved the idea and I got this wrote this. As usual, my writing got a bit more somber than I expected. Maybe that’s just my style idk? One last thing before you can actually read this thing, I insinuate that Hailey cheated on Hotch later in their marriage. I think this is an assumption the show makes, but never explicitly states. I don’t mean to slander Hailey in any way. I think she’s lovely and loved Aaron to the best of her ability. I did this mostly to make Hotch have self-doubt. I stan Hailey in my house. Lastly, this is only my third time posting smut, so forgive me it it’s not perfect. If you enjoy this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! I hope y’all have a good evening - Levi. 

Content Warnings: Sex (slight hand job and blowjob [Hotch receiving]), slight size kink, sex and body doubt (Hotch), Foyet and the stabbing incident mentioned (mentioned that the attack was possibly psycho-sexual), blood, reference to a gag reflex, drinking (the team gets pretty intoxicated), sex life mentioned (reader and Hotch), Aaron is touch starved, cheating mentioned (Hailey). If I missed any, please let me know. 

List will all stories 

_y/n_ = your name 

_y/c/h_ = your color hair

_y/f/a_ = you favorite actor/actress 

_h/l_ = hair length 

_h/c_ = hair color - aka brown hair, black hair, blue hair ect. 

_d/h_ = dominant hand 

Hotch nearly choked on his sip of beer. He tried to hide his coughs by putting his arm over his mouth. He had certainly not expected to hear Penelope, who was seated on Rossi’s rug with many other members of the team, to say, “But you know I might have thrown up because the milk was expired, but _y/n_ wouldn’t because they don’t have a gag reflex.” Aaron watched as _y/n_’s face turned crimson. _y/n_ moved over to Garcia and jokingly shook their friend saying, “Pen, why would you talk about my sex life like that? You see, this is why you can never, ever meet my parents even though you keep asking. We’ll have, like, two drinks and then you’ll start talking about what position I like best.” Upon hearing this, Aaron couldn’t take it anymore. He moved from the living room to the kitchen. He was trying very hard not to think about _y/n_ an array of sexual positions and acts, but he was failing. He was also trying to remember why the team had moved from the couches to the floor. A comment of Spencer's about the rug being comfortable and warm next to the fireplace that was roaring in the center of Dave’s living room might have been the reason. It was all a blur really. They were all drunk at this point. The team didn’t normally do this when they were together, but it was Friendsgiving and the last few cases had been relatively easy by their standards. The team had a few days off, and shockingly they were all going to be in town, so Rossi had invited them all over to celebrate Thanksgiving as a unit. Everyone had brought something and it was nice to just relax and be together. His intoxicated brain circled back to the rug and to the topic of sex and he thought, ‘Oh god, no, no, no,’ but against his conscious brain he began to picture himself having sex with _y/n_ on that soft shagged carpet. In his mind their back was arched, and they were panting as he thrust deeply into them. Aaron was startlingly pulled from his fantasy when his name was called. He looked up and flushed further. It was _y/n_ leaning against the marble countertop. To his credit, _y/n_ also had a flush to their face, and they asked, “What’s got you so flustered over there Mr. Hotchner.” Aaron tried to come up with an excuse, and he opened his mouth, but his brain couldn’t supply a reply, so he just closed his mouth. More mortified now than he may have ever been in front of a member of his team. 

 _y/n_ walked closer to him, and they placed their hands on the edge of the counter. _y/n_ leaned back on their strong arms which could be perceived in a sensual way. Hotch swallowed, and _y/n_ looked him over. They noticed the bulge in Aaron’s well-fitted black trousers, but they averted their eyes quickly for his dignity, so that they didn’t start getting wild ideas. _y/n_ was grateful that Hotch was a little too disheveled to have noticed them checking out his groin. Finally, after an awkward silence, _y/n_ asked openly, drunkenly, “It’s not what Garcia said earlier that has you so riled up, is it?” There was that small undercurrent of desire in _y/n_’s voice that had Aaron feel a flash of heat rush through him again. Hotch wouldn’t have to answer. His blown-out pupils, arousal, and micro-expressions were enough to tell _y/n_ what they wanted to know. Even drunk this was obvious to them. Aaron gave a small nod, yes, anyway. _y/n_ let out a small laugh before saying, “We see such horrible things in the field and my sexual abilities are what's causing your brain to reboot?” They were teasing him, and Hotch couldn’t help but say, “Well this isn’t the field.” He moved toward _y/n_ and placed his hand on their hip. _y/n_’s exhalation of breath and flush of their skin told Aaron that the touch wasn’t unwanted. He’d never initiated anything romantic or sexual with _y/n_. The small part of his brain that was still functioning normally was screaming at him to stop. That he might regret this when he was sober. But his id was stronger than that voice. As his other hand moved to _y/n_’s other hip, he looked down at them. _y/n_’s eyes were wide and shining with a type of desire he’d never seen on their face before. _y/n_ breathily said his name; “Aaron.” Without much more to think about he asked, “Is what Garcia said true? Or is she just making stuff up again?” _y/n_ flushed and acted askance and replied, “Why Hotch, that’s not a nice thing to ask someone.” Aaron bit back a sigh and applied a gentle pressure to _y/n_’s hips. Their body moved with his touch and _y/n_ truthful answered, “It is true though. It’s my hidden talent that’s rarely used.” _y/n_ looked up at Hotch and the desire, the hunger they saw on his face left them reeling for a second. They knew this was crossing a hundred lines, but in that moment the very feeling of his hands on their body was such a rush that they didn’t fight it. The idea of Aaron’s large hands elsewhere had them boldly state, “I can show you later on if you let me come to your apartment?” 

That image actually made Hotch groan. It was quiet, and Aaron was eternally grateful that no one on the team had come in yet to refresh their drinks. Maybe they had all assumed what _y/n_ and he were discussing and were intentionally not entering the room. Aaron asked, surprised at _y/n_’s offer and their willingness to accept, “You’d do that for me?” There was that soft throaty laugh again, and _y/n_ said, “Of course I would Hotch.” Aaron swallowed again and replied, “Okay. But only if you really want to. You don’t have to do anything for me like that if you don’t want to.” _y/n_ moved their hand, patted his shoulder and said, “I promise that you will get enthusiastic consent from me before it happens. And if either of us changes our minds, we can pretend this little conversation never happened. 

After this, they headed back to the living room. If the team had been intentionally avoiding them, they hid it well. The members of the BAU  seemed to be engrossed watching Spencer speed-read Rossi’s well-worn copy of Critique of Pure Reason by Kant. As _y/n_ sat back down next to Emily, they whispered, “Why are we watching Spence read?” Emily listed slightly toward _y/n_ and said, “We’re going to have Rossi test him on the concepts of the book. Or see if the genius can remember some especially long passages. We want to see how much he can remember when he’s this drunk.” _y/n_ chuckled at the concept. They were now also invested. An hour and a half later the team slowly started saying their goodbyes. At this stage, _y/n_ and Aaron were more in control of their faculties. They were the third party to leave, and they both shared an Uber back to Hotch’s apartment. Because neither of them knew how much they would be drinking that night, they had shared a ride over to Rossi’s together. _y/n_ only lived two blocks over and Aaron promised to walk them the rest of the way home. On the short ride back, _y/n_ and Hotch both gained more clarity, and Aaron was starting to feel uncomfortable with what he had said two hours earlier. His desire for _y/n_ was still there, but he knew he shouldn’t have said what he did. Suggested what he had. As it turned out, Aaron’s desire for his younger agent rarely, if ever waned. 

When _y/n_ had joined the team a few years ago, he had quickly found himself drawn to them physically. Hotch didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he couldn’t deny that he had experienced lust at first sight with _y/n_. It was like _y/n_ had been made for him. When Hotch first thought this fully -- not just with the small voice he used to stifle unwanted thoughts with -- he realized how much of a narcissist it made him sound like. It was with that thought that he buried all feelings about _y/n_. He couldn’t risk going there, even in his mind. But with there still being a slight buzz in his head, his mind wandered to how the slope of _y/n_’s shoulders was gentle yet angular. How their _y/h/c_ looked during golden hour, the way their eyes had held his gaze earlier that evening when they had offered to show him their talent. Aaron shifted slightly in his seat to try and readjust himself. His body was having ideas of its own again, and he didn’t appreciate it. Aaron looked over to _y/n_ who seemed to be in their own type of reverie. It hadn’t helped that he found them attractive and that they were such a good person. 

On the team, _y/n_ was smart. They could come up with ideas as fast as Spencer and the duo could be often found at precincts and their hotel rooms bouncing ideas off each other at a mile-a-minute pace. They were also fiercely protective of the team. If someone questioned the team, or specifically a member of the team, they were there to professionally correct and support either the team or the member being targeted. He had seen them do it for JJ, Garcia, and Morgan which was funny because Derek could generally take care of himself. But that hadn’t mattered to _y/n_. They had stood up for and comforted Derek in their way. _y/n_ had comforted him too. It was more polite than with the other agents, but they had done it all the same. Aaron knew that _y/n_ felt similarly about him as he felt about them. It was clear in their actions and demeanor around him. _y/n_ hid it well most of the time, but every now and then, he would get a hint that those desires resided in _y/n_ too, and he had to fight his feelings all over again. It was all a mess, and now they would have to talk about tonight. The conversations had been mutually intimate and yes, having his subordinate offer to perform fellatio on him broke about a dozen rules and regulations, but he had continued the conversation. He could have walked away, lied, or done ten thousand other things than being honest and accepting the offer. Aaron stifled another groan of annoyance and embarrassment. He knew he was fucked, or perhaps not fucked, in loads of ways. At least their conversation had been consensual. There was a small mercy in that. 

As the car moved down the quiet streets, _y/n_ could feel Aaron near them. They chose to look out the cars window instead of at their companion. _y/n_ needed a few minutes to settle their thoughts. To say _y/n_ was mortified about their behavior during the evening was an understatement. Their attraction to Hotch was undeniable, and they saw the tells on their boss as well. That didn’t make what they had done that evening right. _y/n_ had been shocked by how quickly and hard they had been attracted to Aaron. _y/n_ didn’t know they could feel so intensely until they met him. Of course, there had been teen idols. And they had rewatched a few movies with _y/f/a_ a few hundred times. But that was an actor, and Hotch was a real man in flesh and blood. To mention the fact that he was their boss didn’t help the matter either. In all honesty, everyone on the team had said something more personal than they would have sober during the night, but _y/n_ was certain what they and Aaron had revealed was the most intimate. The street lights continued to pass by in a blur as they approached Aaron’s apartment. _y/n_ knew that things would come to a head when they got there, and _y/n_ couldn’t help but think for one second, ‘Is my desire for him so wrong? God we both feel it. Why couldn’t life be easier? Why couldn’t they just give in for once?” These were the thoughts that swilled within them, between them, as they sped toward their destination. 

When they arrived outside of Aaron’s, the two stood outside of his stoop in an awkward silence. Aaron broke it first by saying, “I never should have said anything in the kitchen. I never should have put my hands on you. I sincerely apologize for my actions, _y/n_. I never meant to make this uncomfortable between us. I value your contributions to the team and I’d never view you as a sexual object. I was drunk and it was a mistake.” Hotch realized that he was rambling, and he looked to _y/n_ for their response. They looked back and him and replied, “I started it. Well, Garcia started it. It was out of line for me to approach you like that. I respect you, Hotch. I apologize.” They both stood in the frosty air, under the light of a lone streetlamp. The wind picked up and both parties seemed unwilling to leave the conversation where it was. _y/n_ shuddered against the cold and used a voice they rarely did with Aaron. _y/n_ asked, “Can we go into your apartment for a minute before you walk me home? I think I need to warm up from a minute before you walk me back.” The voice they used was one-third needy, one-third empathetic, and one-third pleading. Though Aaron could be reading into the pleading part of it. Perhaps he just wanted that to be the case. _y/n_ had only spoken to him once before like that and it was when he had gotten injured on a case. _y/n_ had asked him to slow down in the same tone and just like back then, he couldn’t refuse them. Hotch pulled out his keys and unlocked his front door. As they moved inside, he turned on the light above his sink and then he took a few large strides to turn on some lamps in the living space. Aaron gestured to the couch and offered _y/n_ a seat, which _y/n_ took. Aaron moved toward the sink and asked over his shoulder, “Would you like a glass of water?” _y/n_ closed their eyes at the thoughts bombarding them and said, “Yes, please.” Aaron grabbed two glasses from his cabinets and added some ice from the freezer before filling them with water. When he turned back to _y/n_, they had their _d/h_ pinching the skin between their eyebrows; their face in a half grimace. Aaron moved quickly toward them and asked, “_y/n_, are you alright? Do you have a headache?” _y/n_ let out a nervous laugh before removing their hand and saying, “Not yet. But it’s sure to come in a few hours. I’m not a college kid at a pre-game party anymore. I can’t do that kind of drinking without the consequences.” Aaron chuckled at _y/n_’s response. Given that he was a good deal older than _y/n_ him, he could only imagine how bad it might be for himself in the morning. He added taking some Advil before bed to his mental notes. He would do that as soon as _y/n_ was safely home. Even though things had been odd between them for the last half of the night, he would still ensure that they got home safe before he returned to his space to re-wrangle the thoughts that had fought their way back to the surface again. He let out a soft sigh, as he watched _y/n_ take a sip of water. 

_y/n_ set their glass down and looked up at Aaron. They asked a question that had undercut the whole night for them. They asked because at this moment having to fake disinterest felt like too great a burden to bear, and because they knew they were already in trouble, so why not face the full consequence? _y/n_ said what was really on their mind with, “What if I wanted to show you anyway? Apart from Pen’s comments? Apart from the fact that I was drunk when I said what I did.” There was a silence and Hotch’s eyes blinked at what they said, trying to register the words; what was being offered. He felt the hitch in his breath as he said, “_y/n_ I…” They cut Hotch off saying, “Aaron. I see how you look at me. And I know that you see how I look at you. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep pretending to not care about you. To not want to give you more.” Hotch blinked a few times rapidly, trying to clear this head of images. Even now that he was in full control of his mind, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering. Aaron closed his eyes and said _y/n_’s name in desperation. In shame. They looked up at him and said, “Tell me that I’m wrong. Tell me that I’m wrong and I’ll stop immediately.” As hard as Aaron tried to say no, he couldn’t bring himself to. _y/n_ stood and half maneuvered Aaron to sit on his couch. They knelt and pushed his knees open. Hotch groaned and said, “You can’t possibly want this?” _y/n_ ran their hands over his inner thighs and said, “I’m in full control of my faculties, Aaron. If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be here. _y/n_ looked over his seated body. He looked so prone like this; exposed. They often wondered about Aaron. How he felt about himself, and his strong body. _y/n_ had noticed that he wore more layers after what had happened with Foyet. The textures and materials of his suits had changed as well. Half of the time _y/n_ was sure he was sweating under all that fabric. _y/n_ gently dropped to their knees and asked Hotch, who was looking at them with trepidation, guilt even, “Aaron, are you alright? What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

For the last year or so, after Foyet, Hotch had been physically cutting himself off from close contact of any kind. It brought up too many painful memories of Hailey before she and Jack had to flee to witness protection before she divorced him. When he was younger he had been so passionately in love with her. It was the most he had ever felt in his life, and with his childhood the way it was, there was a great comfort in that. When he and Hailey had met again as adults, those feelings were still there and they persisted throughout his time in law school and his short stint as a prosecutor. But when he had joined the BAU things had changed. At first, there had been a thrill for both of them. But with time, Hailey seemed to grow tired of his constant comings and goings. His late nights in the office under Gideon. Their sex life had changed and what used to be passionate and loving sex turned into less passionate more need-based sex from either himself or his wife. Then Jack happened, and Gideon’s incident in Boston which left even less time for him to spend with his wife and newborn son. Again sex changed for them because Hailey needed time to heal and Jack took up most of their time when Aaron was home. When they had been intimate at that stage it felt different. It happened rarely and he could feel Hailey withdraw from his touch sometimes. A few months later when he started to assume that she might be acting unfaithfully to him he started to understand why his wife was so hesitant to be around him. Aaron didn’t want to believe it was true. He wanted to think that it had something to do with him. Some shortcomings of his character or body. When it came out that she had been seeing someone else, Aaron forgave her. He still loved her deeply and he knew that he had his own issues; being around was the chief one for his wife. Some part of him understood why she had sought comfort in someone else while he was away even though he would never do that to her. A part of Aaron still thought that there was something wrong with him, his body, and his performance in bed. And the last time he and Hailey had really, intentionally tried to be intimate, his own doubts and the thought of her with another man had not allowed him to finish. Aaron didn’t assume that was the death knell of their marriage, but part of him factored it in. 

Then Foyet had physically assaulted him, his body. Hotch never told anyone, and the team didn’t say anything, but he had wondered if Foyet was seeking some sort of sick sexual release with the knife as a subsite penis. Aaron had passed out from blood loss before he could know the answer to that question. Aaron was grateful for that to this day. So the idea that _y/n_, the kind and caring person they were was interested in him sexually was rather unbelievable to him. It had been so long since he had been sexual. He even stopped allowing himself to touch himself if he woke up aroused. He felt like he deserved it. He didn’t know how he would act, or perform if he accepted _y/n_’s offer. Thinking about it made him nervous. And yet, his desire for _y/n_ persisted. 

Hotch swallowed and he suddenly felt like he needed ten glasses of water instead of the one he had just consumed. He looked down at _y/n_ and replied, “I shouldn’t even be sitting here. These thoughts… they.” Aaron felt embarrassed at himself and looked away, not really knowing what to say. It had been so long that he had felt a desire this strong. It had been even longer that someone had been this intimate with him. Even to have his legs spread and _y/n_ looking up at him with such care. They hadn’t even fucking done anything yet. Aaron closed his legs and _y/n_ let him. They wanted Hotch to know that he had full control of his body. Of what happened, if anything did end up happening. _y/n_ stood and leaned close to him. With a tender care, _y/n_ took his chin in their hand and directed his face to look at them. _y/n_ said, “Desire isn’t a sin Hotch. There isn’t some cosmic scale weighing whether you looked at some girl crossing the road five years ago. It’s a natural feeling; and it’s not wrong to feel it. If anything you’ve been restraining yourself. So have I. I care about you too much to just keep dreaming about you at night. It feels like I’m using you. So now you know how I feel. Now would you please let me do this for you?” Aaron had to blink back a few tears at _y/n_’s statement. It was so honest that he could hardly see past it. It was blinding in its sincerity. To know that _y/n_ felt like him in that way made him feel warm in a different way than his body responding to theirs. As a last half-assed defense, he said quietly, “I’m your boss.” The chuckle _y/n_ let out had his eyes on them in an instant. Laughter hadn’t been the response he had expected. _y/n_ was wearing their ‘color me surprised’ face. And Aaron laughed at the expression too. It was no surprise to both of them. But this wasn’t about power dynamics, it was about tenderness and longing, and when _y/n_ asked, “Would you let me take care of you?” He nodded his head yes and then verbalized that he wanted it too. 

With his consent given. _y/n_ pressed into him. Their hands found traction on his biceps, and they moved their mouth over his neck. _y/n_ could feel his steady pulse under their mouth. At the contact, Aaron let out a sigh. His body reacted almost immediately. He shifted slightly, closed his eyes, and moved his head to the side a bit to give _y/n_ better access to his flesh. When Aaron had gotten in the apartment, he had discarded his suit jacket and tie to be more comfortable. His shirt however was still buttoned tightly. _y/n_’s hands worked at the top two buttons, but they were struggling as they tried to keep their mouth on Hotch’s skin while doing the buttons at the same time. _y/n_ was both kissing and sucking at the sanative area. Aaron moved his arms to slide between their bodies, as he undid the troublesome buttons. _y/n_ hummed their thanks, and as they moved to treat his clavicles and breast bone, they breathed hot and heavy over his neck. The semi-excited state of his cock grew quickly. _y/n_ moved over the area with a reverence. While their mouth worked over his partially exposed torso, their hands also moved. Their right hand was tracing the lines of his muscle on his stomach and the other was slowly trailing up and down his left thigh. When _y/n_ placed their hand over his hardness, shielded by his pants and briefs, he groaned -- loudly. He felt embarrassed, and _y/n_ looked up at him and said, “It’s okay to feel. I want you to enjoy this.” With how large he felt under their hand, _y/n_ was excited to see his manhood.

They moved back to their knees, and this time, as they pushed his thighs open, Aaron let it happen. _y/n_ set one hand on his hip and the other moved under his linen shirt, wrinkling it. _y/n_ started kissing at his knee and slowly moved up his thigh. As they got close to his arousal, which was throbbing hard against his underwear and the zipper of his pants, they moved to the other leg and began the process again. Hotch let out a shaky breath. Whatever hesitations he had been having at the start were as far away as Neptune now. The slow buildup was driving him insane. Finally, _y/n_ made it to his groin and kissed over his erection. From what they could feel, he was large. Long and wide. As _y/n_ made their tactile observations with their mouth, they thought back to the dreams they had had of Aaron. He was always well endowed in them, but now that they were here, he might even be bigger than they had imagined. _y/n_ thought, ‘Of course he’s big. This is Hotch we’re talking about.’ They refrained from laughing but did let out a small breath. Their thought might be funny to them, but it might come off very differently to Aaron. They didn’t want to think they were laughing at him. They never wanted that. Once they had kissed up the tip which was being held down by his belt, _y/n_ moved their face away and started to undo the buckle of his belt. The metal was cool under _y/n_’s fingers. Once the belt was slipped through the front two belt loops and the two at his hips, _y/n_ shifted forward and grabbed the hem of his shirt. They moved the stranded weave fabric up, exposing his stomach. _y/n_ leaned in and kissed over his belly button. Their tongue licked over the well in his form, and Aaron moaned again. _y/n_ then moved to kiss one of the exposed scars on his body. He looked down at _y/n_ like this, and he wondered what it would be like with him in her mouth? He stopped himself from bucking up at the thought. While _y/n_ had been working over his body, his breathing had picked up. At this new sensation, he whispered their name. _y/n_ made quick work of the buttons and zipper of his pants. They were careful that there were no unintended snags as they tugged the small pull down. _y/n_ looked over his cloaked member. They kissed the shaft and then moved their hand to press against it before slowly stroking it through his grey briefs. _y/n_ used their pointer and little finger to stimulate the sides, while their ring and middle finger applied pressure to the front of his penis. _y/n_ didn’t tease him with their hand too long. This wasn’t the pleasure Olympics. They didn’t know how much stimulation Aaron was used to, and _y/n_ didn’t want to overdo it for him. Before _y/n_ removed the final layer of clothing, they looked up to Aaron again to ensure he was still on board with this last exposure. Hotch looked into their eyes, the question evident to him. In a deep voice, one full of need, he said, “Yes. If you’re willing.” _y/n_ replied in the affirmative, saying, “I want to.” 

With consent given, _y/n_ tugged at the elastic band of his briefs. Aaron put his weight on his feet and lifted his hips for them. _y/n_ pulled down the fabric and revealed his member for the first time, as it rested on his body. He was large and as Hotch settled back down on the couch, they looked over him with pleasure. _y/n_’s hand circled the base, and they started pumping up and down with a steady pace and pressure. They praised him saying, “You’re very impressive Aaron.” Their praise and the feeling of their hands moving over him had him squirming and breathing heavily. He was starting to sweat now, and he had never imagined it would be like this. Because if he had, he would never be able to let go. But now that it was actually happening, he couldn’t care about the complications. He felt so good with _y/n_ rubbing their hand against his cock, and he muttered, “Fuck, _y/n_. You’re so good.” They smiled, and he cursed again as _y/n_ used their other hand to stroke and circle the base of his member. _y/n_ didn’t spend a very long time with their digits, after all, they had promised to show Aaron their talent, and having him cum in their hands was not on the agenda. So _y/n_ removed their _d/h_ from the shaft and Aaron’s eyes grew wide with the sudden loss of contact. He felt like he might explode if didn’t have that stimulation moving over him. He was about to say something, but the breath was forced from his body as _y/n_ took the tip in their mouth. _y/n_ shifted on their knees a bit to be able to best take Hotch in. The carpet under their legs was decently comfortable, but the wood floor underneath was solid. _y/n_ paid attention to the tip first, suckling it and running their tongue over the slit on the top. Aaron tried to take a steadying breath, but he was falling apart at the sensation of pleasure rushing through him. When _y/n_ was comfortable with the feel of him, and had built some confidence at being able to take him in, they pushed their tongue down and hollowed their cheeks. Carefully covering their teeth, _y/n_ moved their mouth further down his length. At this, Hotch tipped his head back and moaned again. _y/n_ wasn’t even halfway down him before some precum leaked from the tip. _y/n_ pulled up and sucked the briny ejaculate off his cock. _y/n_ swallowed it quickly and moved back to working him over. They would think more deeply about the taste of Hotch’s cum later, but for now, they wanted to keep hearing Aaron mutter their name, or try to keep his breathing even. They could feel from his reactions and the throbbing of his cock that he wasn’t in control at all, even if he was trying to be. _y/n_ momentarily wondered how long it had been since anyone had done this for him. 

Aaron's width not only filled their mouth, but his length, even though they didn’t have a natural gag reflex, was still a bit too much for _y/n_ to fully cover with their mouth. About an inch was left exposed to the cool air. Before _y/n_ moved their free hand to make up the difference, they looked over Hotch. The sight of him, head tipped back, mouth open sent a wave of pleasure through them. _y/n_ noticed Hotch’s hands gripping the side of the couch with white knuckles. As _y/n_ continued to move over him, they used their free hand to grab Hotch’s left hand from the couch cushion and to set it on the crown of their head. Aaron looked down at _y/n_ as they moved his hand to the back of their head. He hesitated. He was desperate to take what was being offered on top of what was already happening. On top of the bliss and heat, he was feeling in his cock. _y/n_ patted his hand on their head giving him a non-verbal “It’s okay.” Aaron couldn’t help himself, and threaded his long fingers in _y/n_’s _h/l_ _h/c_. _y/n_ continued to move up and down his shaft, and then covered the base of his cock that couldn’t be inside their mouth. With Aaron fully enveloped, he bucked his hips up and as _y/n_ had said, the extra pressure didn’t cause any gag reaction. If fact _y/n_ hummed their satisfaction at his action. He trembled under _y/n_ and thought about what they had said earlier in the night about feelings not being wrong. And moving his hips had felt so, so, blindingly good that he did it again. And then again, and again, and again until he was sure he could feel himself ready to cum. _y/n_ was intently focused on his pleasure. Aaron’s member was lined with a few thick veins running down the side and back. As Hotch started to take control of his own pleasure with gentle pressure to their head, _y/n_ lifted their tongue up and down those ridges on his cock. At this new sensation and the slight sucking that _y/n_ was doing sent him over the edge. Aaron’s hand tightened in _y/n_’s hair, and he came with a shudder. He let out a loud moan and pulled _y/n_’s head off of his cock. They had only taken a bit of his semen in their mouth. _y/n_ wondered why he hadn’t let them swallow his ejaculation, but didn’t ask now. There were still so many things to know about him. Things they hoped they could learn together with time. _y/n_ stroked his thigh softly as he rode out his orgasm. Seeing him so out of control only wanted to make them care for him more. 

When the waves of pleasure subsided, Aaron relaxed back into the couch cushion. He closed his eyes because he was afraid of what he would see in _y/n_’s eyes if he opened them. He wasn’t fully sure how to cope with what they had given him. A soft touch of his thigh did eventually made him see _y/n_, and they were looking at him with a care he had rarely seen in his life. He swallowed back some tears, and he patted the couch next to him. As _y/n_ got up from their knees, and sat next to him. He pulled his underwear over his nakedness. His cum was staining his shirt and pants and he would need to launder and shower after he talked to _y/n_. _y/n_ sat and gave him space, but he needed to feel them close to him. To have this living, breathing care in his arms. He turned to face _y/n_ and asked, “May I hold you?” _y/n_ nodded, and Aaron moved his arm to rest behind their lower back. He pulled _y/n_ close to his side, and they turned toward him softly. _y/n_ placed their head on his broad, muscular shoulder. There were a few moments of comfortable silence before _y/n_ said, “You don’t ever owe me anything, Aaron. You know that right?” The question lingered until Aaron’s hand moved to the back of _y/n_’s head, gently running his digits through the smooth hair. A different kind of touch than what he had been doing a few minutes before. Now that he had been sated, he feared that a gulf would form between them. But _y/n_’s comment gave him something to think about, to still his nervous mind. Finally, he replied, “But I do owe you things _y/n_. I owe you safety on the field, and professionalism in the office, and privacy. I feel like I owe you more than those things as well.” _y/n_’s hand was back on his thigh again and they replied, “Okay, valid point. At the job, you do play a different role, but we’re both adults Hotch. We’re not teenagers trying to shag in the high school gymnasium. Given how long we’ve waited for something to happen between us, I think we can keep it together at work.” At this statement, Aaron chuckled lightly. _y/n_ was certainly true about that. After a beat, _y/n_ continued saying, “But is it so impossible to believe that we couldn’t do both? That we couldn’t care for each other outside of work?” Aaron pondered the question. He thought about what they had said. About the profound pleasure _y/n_ had brought him; and not just physical pleasure, but an emotional cover as well made him consider his words wisely, carefully. When _y/n_ was with him like this, it felt like his many flaws disappeared. That he had a clean slate. Hotch closed his eyes and rested his head on top of _y/n_’s, as he said, “I willing to try.” 

When it was appropriate, Aaron quickly cleaned himself, changed, and then walked _y/n_ back to their apartment. Before _y/n_ went inside, Hotch placed a hand on their lower back and leaned down to kiss _y/n_’s forehead. They had both agreed to take a day and see if any other feelings, questions, or concerns that might arise once they were apart. They scheduled a meeting of sorts for Sunday to talk more deeply and thoroughly about what this relationship might look like. When they parted for real, Aaron walked down the quiet street. It was late in the night, but he didn’t feel tired. As he walked, he considered how physically closed off he had been the last few months. Close off to the team and himself. But _y/n_ had helped him see the sky again and no matter what happened after this, he would always be grateful for that. 

On Monday, _y/n_ went to see Garcia. To honestly say, “What the hell Pen?” However, the technical analyst had been watching _y/n_ and Aaron pine for each other for two years and even though her comment at Rossi’s had been a Freudian slip, she still noticed how the pair spent a long time in the kitchen. How they had both come back flushed, eyes wide. Once _y/n_ stepped into Garcia’s space, Penelope could see that something happened and did a little happy dance in her chair before getting up and dragging _y/n_ into her office, closing the door. Once they were alone, Pen said, “_y/n_ tell me everything.” _y/n_ flushed, a bit exasperated, and said, “The answer is, I may never tell you anything about my sex life again. But thanks, Penelope.” _y/n_ winked at their friend and left the office with a smile on their face. Garcia gave a little excited scream of happiness as she moved back to her desk. Sometimes when things didn’t go to plan, it still worked out.

Text Break Banners by @cafekitsune

Taglist: @criminalskies @tgskitten @geminitapestry

Want to be added to the taglist? Please see My CM Taglist Post (linked)

#ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotcher #hotch #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #cm #reader insert #fanfiction #hotch drabble #hotch blurb #hotch smut #derek morgan #david rossi #penelope garcia #criminal minds x reader #Hotch is insecure #touchstarved #hotch comfort #Hotch moans while being intimate #gender neutral y/n #Penelope reveals too much #I am so tired but I'm going to write anyway #i have no self restraint

[jeffgerstmann]

I’ve been having a rough time mentally lately so I’m listening to a bunch of music I haven’t listened to since high school which includes Midnight Brown’s complete discography. It’s still shockingly good and has me in some kind of feelings, which you might find weird. Any interest in ever making more music? Also, could you get Midnight Brown on streaming services (for my convenience) or is that hard? Anyway, thanks for making that music. It means a lot to me.

I really want to find some time to make some more music, but it's been hard with everything else I've got going on at the moment. I have a really dumb Patreon idea that involves me making some music.

Getting it up on streaming services is technically easy but a hassle on the backend. It wouldn't make any meaningful money, but I'd still have to more or less set up some kind of 50/50 arrangement with Chris to be fair about it. The process of setting all that up so that we can split 80 cents every two years is kinda daunting and a lot of work and annoying annual tax shit for pretty much nothing. Maybe I could just take the business end of it on myself and venmo Chris $5 every two years or something.

Also there's that one track with the Evel Knievel samples on it, which would probably wouldn't fly. On top of all that, I don't have ready access to lossless versions of the files, so to truly do it "right" I'd have probably have to set up my 2005-era FL Studio install in a virtual machine or something, since a lot of those old-and-definitely-legally-acquired VSTs struggle a bit on modern Windows.

It's something I was talking about with a friend just last week, and something I'd definitely do if I had infinite time, but it's kind of a chore. I think the more likely route is that I take what I have, which is a mix of mp3s and a smattering of rendered WAVs, and see what I can assemble easily. With some of these audio restoration tools getting astoundingly better these days, it might be enough to just feed it the MP3s and say "restore the fidelity lost by that compression" and use those.

Anyway, sorry for the long-winded answer, but it's been very much on my mind recently so that's kinda the full walkthrough of where my head is at on all of it. At this point it'd probably just be easier to write some new stuff!

[scribespirare]

Hi big fan! The Flowerfang content you make is honestly the best I've ever seen written!

I was wondering just a lil inspo if you are bored.

But what about a piece with some big time villain like flirting with our Miles and Miguel going into protective/possessive (Like the nerve of this guy to flirt with our spiderman!) mode, but getting his ass handed to him and worried how will he protect Miles from this evil creep!

...Only for our boy to end the fight easily and quickly because he's not defenseless, he's spiderman! But still Miguel sweet of you to worry and try and defend our boys honor.

Anyway I'll always love whatever you write! No matter the ask! Thanks for continuing to write about this paring!

yallre both so sweet and ily!!! I combined these two requests into one but kinda left out some of the finer points from the first one (tho my first attempt at filling that one did result in something that might be a full length one-shot. we'll see)

Sometimes, Miles hates being an Omega. He hasn’t had long to really get used to the idea honestly, since he’d presented just a year ago. And there are still a lot of prejudices against Omegas that drive him up the damn wall with how stupid they are.

But sometimes, those prejudices come in handy and Miles finds being an Omega pretty damn funny.

The Alpha bad guy in front of Miles has a bit of a dopey expression on his face and is gesturing Miles towards him. He’s part of a gang of thieves that have been running heists all over New York, and Miles had brought in backup in an effort to try and nab all of them at once. Gwen, Hobie, and of course Miguel are all hunting down their own suspects.

And Miles is following tall, dark, and ski-mask into an alley. All it had taken was lifting the edge of his own mask to let his scent out, his suit specially designed to keep it from leaking and making him easily identifiable, and bam. Love struck Alpha. Or lust struck, judging by the leer on his face. Whatever, Miles will take it.

Less than a minute later and Miles has the man webbed to a wall and is dropping a pin on his location on his comm so he can meet up with others.

“Omega slut!” the thief is yelling when Miguel swings into view and then drops into the alley, light as ever on his feet despite his bulk.

Miguel’s eyes narrow and he looks from Miles to the thief.

Miles just shrugs. “What? I let him scent me and he basically begged me to web him up.”

“Whore!” the man screams, at the exact moment Miguel growls, “You did what!?”

And yeah, okay, Miguel is Miles’ Alpha and all but there’s no need for the theatrics, damn. “Woah, easy, big guy,” Miles says, palms up. “I just thought it’d be the fastest way to get him to stop running. And I was right.”

“That doesn’t-” Miguel cuts himself off with a snarl because the thief is screaming again, this time a series of slurs directed at Omegas. Stalking towards him, Miguel delivers a single, well-placed punch to the side of the man’s head and knocks him out shockingly fast. Then he’s whirling and stalking that same predator stalk towards Miles. “¿Qué carajo estabas pensando!?”

“Uh,” Miles says, refusing to back up even when his hind brain is screaming at him to do so. “I was thinking I wanted to catch this guy quickly. We kind of had plans today, remember?” They were supposed to have been going on a date, but then these guys had popped up. Considering Miguel had put together a plan to catch them long before he and Miles had decided to go out, the bad guys won out.

“You purposefully allowed an Alpha to scent you while you’re in your suit, risking your identity, and the fact that you’re unbonded just makes it all the worse! Mierda, what if he had managed to over power you? What if he’d-”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Miles says over the angry stream of words. “It’s fine, cálmate-”

“Cálmate!?” Miguel repeats, and suddenly his hands are on Miles’ shoulders and and Miles is being shoved back back back until he hits the brick alley wall. “Don’t you tell me to calm down, Miles. You know how I feel about you being unbonded-”

Badly. He feels very, very negatively about the fact that Miles can’t take his bite yet. And normally Miles agrees with him because he also wants to bond. His age is the only thing keeping them from sealing the deal already. But right now Miles could care less because Miguel is being a dick about this for some reason.

“-and still you go and throw yourself out there, letting some random Alpha get your scent, and why? Because it saved you five minutes? Nunca piensas!”

“First of all, he wasn’t going to overpower me,” Miles cuts in, glaring hard at the other man. Which is kind of hard to do when said man has a foot of height on you and is standing so close Miles has to tip his head back. But he does his best. “Second, why are your panties in such  twist about this?”

Miguel sucks in a breath through his teeth and before Miles knows what’s happening he’s been flipped around, cheek meeting uncomfortably with cool, rough brick. He’s trapped there by the heat and weight of Miguel behind him and he can feel the Alpha lean down, close to his ear.

“You’re mine, Miles,” Miguel growls. “You’re mine, even if I can’t bite you yet. And now some fucking Alpha has your scent and a grudge and he can come back at any time, looking for the Omega that got the better of him.”

And comprehension dawns on Miles. “Oh,” he breathes, relaxing a little in Miguel’s hold. “You’re jealous that some other Alpha was interested.”

“Puta madre! I’m not jealous, Miles! Will you take this seriously for two damn seconds?”

Miles hums, holding back a laugh by the skin of his teeth. “I am taking it seriously,” he tries, even as he arches his neck and cants his hips back. “You’re just being your protective, possessive, Alpha self. Can’t stand the thought of someone else thinking they could bite and claim me. Thinking they could put their hands on me. You can’t stand the though that for a moment there he really thought he was going to be the one to bring down Spider-Man just by pinning me down and knot-”

The rest of Miles’ words are cut off by a cry of pain as Miguel suddenly bites down hard on the sensitive flesh between shoulder and throat. It’s exactly what Miles was expecting though, as is the way Miguel presses him even further into the wall, one hand at his hip ripping at Miles’ suit.

The teeth leave Miles’ throat but its only so Miguel can growl, “Maldito malcriado. You drive me insane, you know that?”

Miles just laughs, reaching back to grab Miguel by the hair and yanking on it. “You started this, big guy. You’re the possessive asshole freaking out and getting all Alpha on me. Now are you gonna finish this or what?”

It’s simply not physically possible for Miguel to fuck Miles while they’re standing up. The height difference puts Miguel’s cock at around mid-stomach on Miles. But that doesn’t mean Miguel can’t throw Miles down on the dirty pavement and fuck him there instead. He doesn’t let up until Miles is near tears and chanting “Miguel” and “yours”and “my Alpha” mindlessly.

#asks #requests #flowerfang #suggestive

[talesfromthebacklog]

Tales From The Backlog: Super Mario Bros Wonder

9/10

ALRIGHT. I LIED. The fomo got me after I saw the singing piranha plants OKAY?

And to be honest, I picked it up on (employee) discount after a bit thinking I wouldn’t get to it as soon as I did. But I’ve been knock out drag out sick since Sunday before Thanksgiving and platformers are traditionally my feel good sick games. I was sick two weeks in a ROW WITH TWO DIFFERENT ILLNESSES. (Neither of which were COVID shockingly.)

BACK TO BACK.

I couldn’t even taste vinegar that well. VINEGAR. I debated on just writing fanfiction and skipping this week too but weirdly I found inspiration in Wonder and Rayman Legends. Both types of platformers I am not historically drawn to.

BUT TODAY IS ABOUT MARIO.

I mean this in no uncertain terms, Mario Wonder is THE BEST 2D Mario experience to date. Hands down. No questions asked. I will die on that hill. I feel like Nintendo has really made it a priority to try and knock their mainline Switch titles out of the ballpark and they keep landing the hits.

Now I think Nintendo always has decent quality titles. At their core they’re almost always built well, functional, and decently fun. But the opinion that their 2D “New” Super Mario franchise was getting old, repeated, and stale is not a new one. I think Mario Wonder really encompasses how I feel about the Switch in general. As always Nintendo has stuff they can improve on, but it is clear they really are pushing to make the games truly special this generation.

WiiU (which the short lifespan is partially to blame for this) is so… empty of personality in comparison to the Switch library even at launch. Like the indie and niche selections? Don’t even get me STARTED.

The WiiU sank so the Switch could fly.

But this isn’t a review of the Switch. It’s a review of Mario Wonder. If you can’t tell I really love it. And this is a legit opinion. I’m not in the paid corporate pockets of IGN or Nintendo. No. The game really is just that solid.

Firstly Mario Wonder has so much personality. I dare say it has old Paper Mario levels of personality. It has a small selection of power ups, but it makes up for this in satisfying level design and… general amusement.

Those singing piranha plants are a really great example. As that is what made me crawl over and go “fine”. I don’t buy 2D Mario’s on launch. I just don’t like them enough. But I think it’s such a good example as to what the game is like as a whole. Mario Wonder is constantly finding new ways to be entertaining and enjoys doing so.

It even starts off with a “bit”. You choose your character and for the intro you walk to the kingdom through a stage as your selected character. The other unselected characters? They’re all here too walking to the kingdom! We were all walking together! Everyone was accounted for! It was so cute and a great introduction to the experience.

On top of standard levels there are all sorts of hidden areas, secret exits, alternate routes, challenges, and collectibles that pay off.

And listen. I know the series is called the MARIO series, but seeing multiple female characters to play as that weren’t locked behind easy mode or late game is amazing. I still distinctly remember being a child myself and us girls fighting over who got to be the ONE GIRL in any of the older Marios.

And then we’d fight about who got Yoshi. Because if we couldn’t be pretty we wanted to be cute.

Anyway most of the time I played Luigi. Now that I’m older and have refined taste Luigi is my favorite.

…But I still pick Peach or Rosalina preferentially! Sorry buddy I like being the pink one and I’m healing my childhood hurt! I DESERVED A TURN TO BE THE PRINCESS BETHANY!

Whatever. I was annoying anyway. They had to eliminate pink carpet squares from a preschool because I was so territorial about having them to myself. So don’t feel bad for me.

Anyway.

Mario Wonder is also a departure from the “New” Super Marios Bros style. Which is… thank god. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that style looks bad. It doesn’t.

But it does look like nothing, especially in comparison to the more stylish pieces they’ve been putting out as of late. Mario Wonder exudes style from start to finish. We are finally in an era where it’s okay for cartoons to look like cartoons again. Sorry if you like the older style, but its blankness was always a turn off for me. That doesn’t make the games inherently bad though. They’re… solid Marios. Just not solid… interesting Marios.

Stylistically I do like it when companies like SEGA dip their toes into “realism” like with Sonic. (Sonic gets to have both. They’re clearly not as consistent as Mario but they have both styles to satisfy all tastes. Though Sonic could use some stronger stylization too. We’re getting there.).

But Mario… is so unique in concept and aesthetic that when they stray from the more intense stylization, I think it’s a disservice. Sonic is unique too! But Mario almost reminds me of Alice in Wonderland. That is another franchise that demands strong aesthetics for its weird choices and suffers without them. Mario is weird in every sense and I think it IS very much like Alice in Wonderland in terms of style and story. I see very strong parallels. Mario is a weird fantasy story. Wonder especially seems to really take note of this stylistically.

And I’m not suggesting “New” Super Mario Bros is realistic per se… but I wouldn’t call it stylized in the same way Wonder or even Odyssey is. It’s cookie cutter and easy to produce. Which I do get, I don’t necessarily dink companies for that. But it’s still obvious that effort on this level produced results.

The color choices of Mario Wonder are also… wow. This game is just an amazing glow up. Can you tell I think the game is pretty? The backgrounds, the colors, the models. I love how we’re exploring a different kingdom which allows for even more environmental diversity.

Then there’s the levels themselves.

Again. I like 2D Marios, but normally I solidly enjoy his 3D endeavors more. (This is not unique to Mario. I feel this way about Sonic as well. So I’m not blaming Mario for player preference).

Mario Wonder is a big exception. Mario Wonder hits all the sweet spots in my brain and takes a lot of the stuff I liked about 3D World and enhanced it. The collectibles to unlock standees is cute. I like that the seeds lock progression because most areas don’t require a lot. (Well. I’m 100%ing each level so I’ve not actually run into an area that told me I didn’t have enough)

Most of the levels have two faces to them which has so many benefits! For example when I mess up the flag pole, if I simply skip the wonder flower for certain levels it physically shortens the level so I can try again. This can also provide alternate exits which net you additional seeds.

The effects the wonder flower have on each level can also be wildly unpredictable. I don’t always know what challenge or activity I am walking in to and I think this was an awesome tactic to keep players on their toes.

For those who like challenge there are more challenging levels available. I don’t often ‘struggle’ in Mario games as an adult but there were a few stages that required real skill to get through and 100%.

Right off the bat there are lots of little explorable avenues clearly off the intended path on the map. I like the player autonomy in that and I like finding weird little nooks. You also get rewarded for this by getting extra seeds, special areas, and badges.

Oh yeah. Badges. This was a weird idea to see pop up outside of Paper Mario, but honestly about time? This was another choice I liked a LOT. Special abilities used to be adhered to certain characters (Hence Peach being treated as easy mode). Now you can apply a badge with special abilities onto any character! And there are lots of badges and abilities. Levels will even have side areas and challenges that require the use of certain badges. Of course some levels are clearly geared to support certain badges as well. And you can change them out darn near at any time. Badges are great. I love swapping them out and problem solving. While most are just functional; some badges are just small rewards throughout a level. I like those too.

The only thing I really can’t commentate on is multi-player. It supports local multiplayer which I’m sure is solid.

I know some people are split on how they feel about the talking flower. I like it. That’s it. Also the caterpillar prince sitting on your shoulder as you run around is dumb cute. He wears the little badge you’re using and you can see it in the levels.

The weird online multiplayer shadow thing I haven’t tried (which is what those standees are even for). I may try that this week and amend the post to include my thoughts on that.

I think the inclusion of an almost brand new set of power-ups was a strong choice. It’s a new kingdom with new activities. It’s okay to be different! (As long as it’s good). The costumes for the power-ups are killer on all of the characters. I like pink Bubble Mario. He makes me happy! I’m rocking that as my Nintendo Avatar right now! 🤣

Overall Wonder is so solid! We can’t keep it in stock at the small game store I work at! When I go to look physically at other big stores I’m not seeing them in stock there often either. Along with Mario RPG, we can’t keep that in stock either.

It’s crazy how on point the new Mario voice actor is. Makes me wonder if they searched for new voice actors during auditions for the movie as a cover. (Initially, not after they announced Chris Pratt as Mario) They managed to keep it under wraps somehow. Cause how else would you hide Mario voice auditions? That’s speculation though. I do need to rewatch the movie to see if they out any Wonder easter eggs in. Probably not.

If you’re looking for a strong AAA title this is it. I think I’m out of nice things to say and I have to prep for my birthday tomorrow! (I’ll be 30.)

So! Take it easy! And don’t get sick this season like I did.

#Super Mario Bros #Super Mario #Mario #Luigi #Peach #Princess Peach #Daisy #Princess Daisy #yoshi #toad #nabbit #toadette #princess toadstool #super mario bros wonder #Mario Wonder #mario bros #nintendo #nintendo switch

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER DRABBLES — 3. Ez Reyes 🌨️

A|N: Although it’s looking like a rough start for my winter prompts this year…I’m still at it and I have to be if I’m inspired to before the energy runs out! Anyways…this may count as a drabble? I love writing fluff for EZ although that man is clearly on a dark path in this point in time. Regardless I instantly saw this one on the prompt list that I’m following and thought, “Ezekiel MFKIN Reyes!”

S/N: + GIF belongs to its rightful owner, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint who created it on google 💚 + touching on the problem of hair in the black community.

PROMPT: #17. “Have you seen my gloves? Seriously? Take them off the dog.”

◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣

You were not off to a good start this morning.

This could be blamed on many aspects that occurred last night…the main one being binge-watching Abbott Elementary (and Sweet Life) was part of it but if anybody asked you, you’d deny it.

It was easy for you to sleep through your ten alarms but having a husband like Ezekiel Lorenzo Reyes, who enjoyed being up at the crack of ass! wouldn’t let you sleep through the fifth alarm.

He was the morning person in the marriage and you were the late-morning person, which is why you slightly thought about changing your hours. You had a successful hair salon business that you shared with your god-brother about half a hour outside of Santo Padre. The work was time-consuming but you enjoyed the idea of perfecting people’s crowns.

You happened to be one of the few accommodating hair stylists out there, having a gentle approach to the tender headed, coming in early and staying late for certain clients if needed. Being pretty fair you did not over-charge for hairstyles like these new hair stylists on the scene often did and took the time to perfect your craft. Doing hair started young for you; the love for hair and tending to your own was the beginning of a eye-opening journey once many salons made you feel demeaned  about your texture.

From begging your mom to not drag you to the salons at the age of six to learning what best works for your texture at ten was a whole new awakening for you. Your mother couldn’t do a thing with your hair and wanted it to be relaxed (just like her own) since she wouldn’t take the time or knew how to best manage it. The moment she relaxed your hair, your grandfather let her have it, shockingly. Normally most men stayed out of women’s business (if they knew what was good for them) especially when it came to hair. Your grandfather became a single father having to raise your mother all on his own, after your grandmother passed with kidney disease when your mother was fifteen.

You learned that your grandfather knew how to tend to your mother’s hair—this was something your mother did not want to share. He told you that he tried his best to encourage your mother to love what grew from her scalp just like his wife did. You’ve seen many pictures of your grandmother who always sported a gorgeous fro in every photo.

The photo you adored the most was a picture of her in her wedding dress, looking over her shoulder, light in her eyes, and a forget me not tucked into her fro.

It was beautiful how carefree she seemed, a smile always on her lips and a twinkle in her eye. That’s how you wanted to be, not only in life but with the hair on your head as well.

There were many times that you wished you got the chance to meet your grandmother. Both of your grandparents were also involved in the civil rights movement and your grandfather seemed to be the only person that didn’t mind sharing his story. You were thankful since it seemed like any conversation that you wanted to have was deemed as you talking back—words by your mother, which was a issue.

It was evident that there were deep-rooted problems with your mother that she wasn’t ready to address yet. You tried your hardest to be empathetic but also realized, thanks to your therapist, that it isn’t only your job to connect with your mother. You were healing from your own childhood trauma that she was part of and you didn’t hate her but distance was needed. Love shouldn’t be heavy, especially when it came to the woman that once held you in her womb.

And so you dealt with her verbal abuse as a kid until spending summers in Georgia with your grandfather gave you purpose. You had the idea with your grandfather at just eleven years old to cut your damaged hair off. Your grandfather did the honors of buzzing the rest off for you in the pink tile bathroom and the twinkle that appeared in your eye afterwards…matched his late wife’s.

That moment was kept a secret during your two month stay and you actually did some heads for the very first time for kids on the cul- de-sac. Your grandfather witnessed this with pride and even took you to a salon where you met a woman named Carlotta. She was welcoming and encouraging after learning that you worked on two kid’s heads that came to see her occasionally. Carlotta even let you work in the shop twice a week during your stay and once you started working on a few adults heads (a choice you did on your own after she was dealing with her own personal issues) at eleven years old? She told you had a gift and you knew your purpose.

Now you were running late to the shop, knowing you were pushing it by the time you were fumbling with your hair in the bathroom. The change in weather was making your hair dry and it was time that you did a hair mask soon. You knew your god-brother would give you a mouth-full if you didn’t take care of it before he did your first wig-install in two weeks.

Adding the right amount of oil to your hair and scalp, you combed, brushed, and decided to slick your hair into a Sade braid for the day, adding some elastics to sections of the braid to make it more fun. Once satisfied, you checked the time again as you got back into the bedroom, thankful that EZ made the bed for you and scrambled to grab your earmuffs and bag.

Your first appointment was at 8:45am and you already knew you were going to be somewhat late. Thankfully this appointment was a simple rod-set and wouldn’t take too much time to get your client done. Thudding down the steps of your bungalow, you heard your stomach rumbling and figured you’d just have to UberEATS breakfast to the shop.

Sitting on the bench, you shoved your feet into your trainers then reached for your black trench coat to place over your clothes for the workday.

“Hey. I know you’re not leaving without this.” Ez called out to you, most likely from the dining room.

Sending out a text to your god-brother, you slipped your bag onto your shoulder slightly jogging back to the dining room where your husband sat comfortably at the head of the table. Of course he looked amazing so early in the morning, snug long sleeve white-thermal shirt on, decorated with his tags and grey sweats on and his skin? We loved a moisturized king! He most likely got his pre-workout done already if he was having tea and oatmeal. Usually he only sat down for breakfast if he worked out already and didn’t need to be at the club until later that morning.

EZ looked up from his phone, his hand already held out your YETI which was filled with orange juice. “No coffee and heavy breakfast while you’re on the road. We both know how that doesn’t agree with your system. I already slipped a protein bar into your bag while you were in the shower and the real breakfast should be there by the time you get to the shop.”

“You’re a good man,” you cooed gripping Ez’s chin, his facial hair pricking your fingertips as you connected your lips.

Ez laughed into the kiss after a couple of pecks, “eh, depends who you ask mi amor.”

“I’m not asking anybody anything,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders, “I know my man.”

“Period, uh.” Ez slipped his hands beneath your trench coat to give your backside in your cozy sweats a nice squeeze.

Pointing at the man you said, “don’t ever do that again.”

Ez smiled up at you, “i promise I won’t. Have a good day sweetheart, let me know when you get there.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You kissed his lips again which made him lick his own.

“Mm, is that a brown sugar chapstick?”

“I have no idea. I just snatched whatever was in the night stand.” You breathed, stepping back from the man who simply nodded his head in understanding, “you heading to the club soon?”

“‘Round eleven or after. Gonna take Sally for a walk, nap and then head out,” EZ answered as he picked up his mug, “it’s your late day right?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “last client is coming in at five. Pray for me.”

“Always do.” Ez grinned, “I love when you do the braid by the way, allows me to see that prettiness in full.”

Having a good gulp of OJ you held out your hand to EZ, your wedding ring glistening in the dining room, which made him smile with fulfillment as he awaited your feedback, “keep treating me well and I might mess around and get pregnant with a real baby instead of a fur baby by new year’s.”

“Please tempt me with a good time.” Ez mentioned, sending a wink your way, making you groan and throw your head back.

Stomping out you yelled, “Bye, Ezekiel!”

“See you later!” Ez chuckled to himself, turning his attention back to his phone once you were out of his sight.

Thankful to have not only a loving husband and a automatic starter, that you forgot to start before Ez called you into the dining room, you flinched as your hands rested on the steering wheel. Immediately your hands went to mess with the knobs to crank the heat up, shaking your head at the brawny man for messing with the temperature in the car.

He was warm blooded and you were always cold. It was a whole debate inside of the house but in the car, you did not comprise despite the increase of gas prices. You couldn’t stand being cold and EZ knew that.

Checking the time again on the dashboard, you searched your glove department for your gloves, then the console, the backseat pockets, and the side holders in the doors but couldn’t find them. Sighing you threw the driver’s side door open again, allowing the winter air to bite at your cheeks as you jogged around your car and back to your home.

You just knew your gloves had to be on the bench and you previously overlooked them. Unlocking the door, which took a little bit of a tussle thanks to the cold, you made a mental note (that you would probably forget during the day) that you or EZ needed to use the WD-40 so neither of you didn’t experience a broken key again this winter.

Zoning in on the bench in the entry way, your eyes scanned the object and then you crouched down to the cubbies, feeling around for the gloves just to not locate them.

“Ez,” you called out, “have you seen my gloves? The Prada ones?”

Lifting your head, you spotted EZ standing down the hallway, your eyes shifting to Sally, your pitbull who had her paws resting up on his thighs, “Seriously? Take them off Sally.”

EZ smiled sheepishly at you as Sally peered over at you in annoyance. It was evident that your girl was sick of his mess too. He was a typical dog dad, taking the girl everywhere he could when he had the car, if you weren’t in the passenger seat you can only guess who was and forcing her into costumes when it was clear she didn’t care to be dressed up. He simply liked bothering your teenage fur baby, that’s all.

“I thought you’d be gone already and wouldn’t mind letting Sally borrow them on our walk,” Ez told you, while you stepped forward and held out your hands for the item.

Sighing Ez took them off Sally’s paws, who dropped them back to the wood floor and sat, watching the exchange.

“You got lucky this time, girl.” Ez pointed at Sally who just blinked and looked over at you.

“I know, he’s a real pain in the ass and if I had the time, I’d beat him up for you.” You told Sally who wagged her tail in response.

Ez huffed as he leaned over, slapping the gloves into your outstretched hands, “I just wanted to have a trial run with her since,” He whispered to you, “I got her some mitts for Christmas to protect her paws for our daily jogs and walks.”

“She’s not gonna wear them,” you shoved your hands into the gloves, “you know Sally trots to her own drum. She might even think they’re chew toys; you saw what she did to those Halloween costumes two months ago.”

Ez stretched at his brow, “have a little faith please. Maybe her favorite holiday is Christmas and she’ll be on her best behavior. We haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Her favorite holiday is sleeping and chewing shit up, then acting like she didn’t do it. It requires minimum effort on her part.”

Sally growled a bit before barking.

“I think you struck a nerve,” Ez joked, “and you might want to keep those gloves in the car if you know what’s good for you.”

Fanning your gloved hands at the two you spun on your heels, “On that note, I’m outta here. love you two, be good.”

“We love you too but…no promises.” Ez murmured as he smiled at your retreating form that began closing the front door, now putting a leash on Sally and giving her a good pet.

◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣

Continue along with my December anthology prompts here.

#mayans mc fx #Mayans mc #mayans mc s4 #mayans mc x reader #ez reyes x black!reader #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #jd pardo #december prompts #winter prompts #queued #Spotify

[better-call-mau1]

Ok I gotta ask: The Timeless art of Bride theft sounds amazing.

Love that you asked about this one!!! 🤣 It might be the WIP I’m most excited about on the list, which is really saying something. The original idea actually came from the summary of @lothcatlovesysalamiri’s From Here On Out — which I’m waiting to read until after I finish Bride Theft. (But her stories are great, and they were some of the first Sabezra fics I read years ago. Definitely recommend them!)

Anyway, just based on the outline I have, this will probably be the longest fic on that WIP list once it’s finished and posted. A snippet alone won’t do it justice, so I’ll give you the rough-draft summary I wrote, an explanation of the premise, and a little snippet. 😁

(Here’s the link to the WIP list for the ask game.)

Summary:

Ezra may not ‘get the whole Mandalorian thing,’ but when Sabine is captured and held by her own clan, he finds himself enrolling in Fenn Rau’s Mando Culture Crash Course while on a desperate mission to rescue her — not only from house arrest or the lurking threat of Imperial collaborators, but an arranged marriage orchestrated by her well-meaning mother.

He’s pulled off a few impressive heists over the years, but stealing a Mandalorian bride on her wedding day is going to take the uj’alayi.

Obviously Sabine isn’t the traditional damsel-in-distress type, but I wanted to write a rescue fic where she, a damsel by definition, is in serious distress — and if anyone is a match for her, it’s her own mother.

The basic premise is that Sabine first goes down to Krownest alone in “Legacy of Mandalore” to smooth things out with her family before giving Ezra, Kanan, and Rau the green light. And just like in the show, Ursa knows that Sabine’s return is bound to bring Clan Wren into the crosshairs of Gar Saxon — but without the Jedi as a bargaining chip, she has to make a calculated decision to keep her family alive (including Alrich, currently a prisoner of Saxon and the Empire). As far as she can tell, the best course of action is to ‘neutralize’ Sabine in the eyes of the Empire by marrying her off to another Mandalorian clan, signaling that she’s given up fighting for good and is no longer a threat.

Shockingly, Sabine isn’t too happy about the idea, not least of all because the prospect of marriage to a total stranger forces her to face the feelings for Ezra that she’s kept buried for some time. Her initial attempt(s) at escape backfire…but little does she know that among the pool of suitors her mother invited to Krownest, there’s a Loth-rat coming to her rescue. 😏

Here’s a little snippet:

“This is great! Just as light as stormtrooper plastoid, but it feels like it can actually take a few hits!”

Ezra clapped his palm against the stark-white chestplate, enjoying the solid smacking noise that filled the cabin of the Phantom II. Vanity may not have been the Jedi way, but he did feel pretty awesome in Mando armor — and he probably looked awesome, too.

“That armor can take more than a few hits,” snorted Rau. Leaned up against the bulkhead, his weariness was as easy for Ezra to see with his own eyes as it was to sense through the Force — having just returned from a brief retrieval on Concord Dawn, the Protector was burdened with a fresh reminder of what happened to his men. “Beskar disperses heat two hundred times more efficiently than durasteel. It’s practically indestructible to conventional blaster weapons.”

“Unfortunately for Mandalorians,” Kanan added, sitting arms-crossed in the copilot’s seat, “Jedi don’t carry conventional weapons.”

“Beskar holds up better against your laser swords than anything else,” Rau countered, his voice carrying a combative edge for the first time since he joined their cause.

Ezra couldn’t really blame him — he felt just as off-balance. Since Reklam Station, Sabine had become a constant steadying presence, a partner he could count on during high-stakes missions like this one…but this mission was for her, to get her back and bring her home.

“Hey, think of it this way,” he blurted out, making an attempt at levity for his own sake as much as Kanan and Rau’s. “As a Mandalorian Jedi, I’m unstoppable!” He reached out with the Force and called his lightsaber from the cockpit. “Rescuing Sabine is going to be easy! If you lent me your spare set of armor sooner, I could have toppled the whole Empire by now!”

Rau grimaced, his expression darkening. “Firstly, wearing that armor doesn’t make you a Mandalorian.” He drew in a sharp breath, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But the armor you have on isn’t mine. I don’t have a ‘spare set’ — that would be considered profane.”

“Then where’d you get all this?”

“Where do you think?” Reaching behind himself, he scooped a clunky object off the cabin bench and tossed it to Ezra. “Until we return this to Clan Saxon, I’m guilty of the highest desecration in Mandalorian culture. And if you’re caught wearing it…I doubt Countess Wren will hesitate to disintegrate you.”

Ezra gaped down at the white Imperial Supercommando helmet in his hands, staring at his reflection in the transparisteel visor.

“Wait…did you take this off a dead guy?!”

#yes in fact he did #and Jabando (Jabba+Lando) Saxon is about to crash the party on Krownest #basically everyone wants to kill him including Sabine lol #actually she’s prepared to kill anyone her mother makes her marry #and Ezra’s Clan Saxon persona is gonna be at the top of that list #don’t want to spoil anything but it’ll be a wild ride 😝 #aeon2407 #thanks for the ask! #sabezra #sabezra fanfiction #fenn rau #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger

[w-w-whumpupthejam]

Weaknesses and Trustings

Started writing this in July of 2023, finally finished it tonight! I may continue later, but for now I really just wanted to share it with y’all.

Warnings!

Intoxication, drugging, maybe creepy Villain? nothing nsfw or all that suggestive though, but take heed.

1027 words

Hero stood proud in a small closet in Villain’s house, facing per despite the… undesirable circumstances. It’s never fun to get caught snooping, and shockingly worse when it’s your sworn enemy. Oh, and it doesn’t help when you’re trying to figure out their weakness or anything you can do to take them down. Yeah. Not a great way to spend a Saturday night.

Regardless of how not fun it is, that’s where our hero was. Xe stood before Villain with a face that refused to surrender. Hero wasn’t going to let per do anything that might cause more damage than needed, not if xe could help it.

“Oh… Hero. And what are you doing here, at this hour?” Villain questioned, looking the hero up and down as they analysed xem.

“I was just stopping by for a cup of tea and chess match!” Hero said sarcastically, head moving slightly to peer around Villain at the hallway behind them. If xe could just get past…

Villain glared at xem. Witty quips were fine in a fight, but Hero was in their house in the dead of night– and xe was supposed to be the “hero”. Hero caught onto the way Villain was looking at xem quickly, recognising the tension that had only risen since xe was caught.

“I asked you a question. I’d suggest you don’t act all sarcastic and shit right now.”

“… Fine. I wanted to see if there was any info you had here that I could use. Simple as that. Why? Did you hope I was here for something else?”

Villain paused before speaking again. “No, I just wanted to make sure I knew exactly what I was dealing with. Now, I think you should come in a little more; I don’t want a guest stopping by and leaving like that, no, no. Follow me.” Per’s tone of voice made it clear that it wasn’t a request, and Hero followed per out of the cramped room.

“So… nice house,” Hero said, looking around the hallway. The closet they had found their way to was at the end of it, and had information on Villain littered through it. The hall was nice, too; Hero wasn’t lying. It wasn’t all that long, but the walk to Villain’s kitchen felt like it took hours. They got to the kitchen, per gesturing for Hero to take a seat at the island. Xe obeyed.

“I thought you were supposed to be the “good guy”, Hero, and yet I found you trespassing in my own home. You so desperately want me out of your way, dead, even, that you seem to be willing to go against your own arbitrary rules!” Villain was mocking xem. Xe wasn’t going to fall for it, oh no. Xe was used to it, so per couldn’t do much to xem.

“Excuse you, you don’t know what the hell code I follow. For all you know trespassing in the name of heroism is totally allowed!”

“Is it?” Villain pushed further, but per turned around and rooted about the kitchen, grabbing some mugs and the like.

“… Okay maybe the Institute isn’t a fan, but it doesn’t matter! You have a weakness and I’m going to find it!” Hero was almost shouting by now, leading to a very sarcastic shushing from Villain. “Oh come on! I’m right, though, you have to have a weakness. You need to. Everyone does.”

“If everyone has a weakness, what’s yours?” Villain asked, now facing Hero, a kettle on the stove behind per.

Hero sneered. “I’m not falling for that.” Xe rolled xyr eyes. “Tell me yours and maybe I’ll let you know.”

Villain looked at xem with an unchanging stoic face. “No. I don’t need you to tell me anyway. You aren’t difficult to read, Hero. If I’m a book on physics, you’re a Baby’s First Board Book. I could take you down at any point.”

Ignoring the obvious and downright cruel insult, Hero spoke. “So why don’t you? I mean, if I’m that easy to figure out and take down, why do I keep beating you?”

“Oh Hero,” Villain started to say, before the easily ignored noise of the kettle turned into screaming, cutting per off. “Ah, the water’s ready.”

“Does that mean I’m free to go?” Hero said a Little too hopefully.

“Oh, oh god no,” Villain laughed, “No, it just means that we can have that tea you were talking about earlier. ‘Am I free to go?’,” Per mocked, “Seriously, who do you take me for?” Villain brought two steaming mugs of tea over to the island, sitting beside Hero and pleasing xyr mug by xem. Upon seeing xyr extremely distrusting expression, per nudged it closer. “It’s not poisoned or drugged. You can take my word for that.”

“Yeah, of course, let me just trust you, because you ‘gave your word’. It’s not like that means much from you.” Hero scoffed, but xe took the mug in xyr hands, bringing it up to their mouth. Per watched as xe took a sip, taking in the tender moment of Hero trusting per. Hero breathed a sigh of relaxation as xe figured xe was clear, safe from anything Villain could throw at xem despite being so close to per. The second that sigh was done, however, Hero began to feel a little… loopy. Xyr breathing hastened before xe felt even more light headed, eyes fluttering and vision blurring. The last thing xe saw before passing out was Villain catching them, whispering to them: “You shouldn’t have trusted, Hero; my word really doesn’t mean much.”

Per picked up Hero’s unconscious body, bringing xem close. “That’s your weakness, after all. You trust so easily, and yet you seem to think that you can’t. But you trusted me. And now here you are.” Per mused quietly. “Ah well, you may be a captive but I’ll make sure you’re comfortable, dear, don’t you fret.”

Per brought xem to a smaller bedroom accessed through the same hall that brought them to the kitchen, rested xem on the bed, and locked the door. Hero wasn’t leaving any time soon, not if Villain could help it.

#whump #writing #whump writing #my writing #hero and villain #generic whump

[makerkenzie]

So I read your posts about the Martells and how their plans to team up with the targs are.....faulty to say the least lol and I completely agree. Your posts hit on a lot of the same issues I have had with the Martells and GRRM's handling of this plot point. We are told that the Martells in general are haughty and slow to forgive. We are introduced to Oberyn, he loved Elia more than anything, and like any overprotective brother didn't believe any of her suitors was good enough for his sister. Yet, GRRM does not allow Oberyn, and then later, Doran, to make any comments about Rhaegar's treatment of Elia. Yes, Tywin gave the order and Loch and Clegane executed those orders, but none of that would have happened had it not been for Rhaegar setting the ball in motion. This makes absolutely NO sense and gives the fandom cover to say garbage like, 'well, even the Martells don't blame Rhaegar so Rhaegar was a good guy...' Oberyn? The same man who didn't think anyone was good enough for his sister wouldn't have been enraged at her husband seemingly leaving her for another woman after she just almost died giving him a son? Seriously???

This is just....very bad writing and dropping the ball on Martin's end. On top of that, he has the Martells betroth Arianne to Viserys. Why the FUCK would any family do that after seeing how one targ man already treated their beloved sister in a previous marriage match???? It's baffling.....absolutely insane. But I can't bring myself to blame the Martells, because this is yet another area of illogical carelessness by GRRM when it comes to his handling of Rhaegar and Elia.

Parts of this fandom refuse to acknowledge that Rhaegar is significantly at fault for the rebellion and what happened to Elia and his children and it borders on gaslighting imo. The amount of times I've seen people say 'well, Rhaegar didn't start the way, it was Brandon making a mess in KL and then it was Aerys' fault for demanding Robert and Ned's heads.' Okay......but literally none of that would have occurred had Rhaegar and Lyanna not ran away. Had they not done what they did, Brandon would have had no reason to got to KL to confront the prince.

Anyway, a lot of this hits on GRRM's, imo shockingly tone deaf, handling of Rhaegar, Elia, and Lyanna. I have no doubt that back in 1996 he envisioned R and L to be some Romeo and Juliet love story with two sympathetic people that meant well, but ran into a string of bad luck 'love is the death of duty' etc. etc. Except, it's easy to romanticize Romeo and Juliet who were two capricious teens in the blush of first love. Importantly, neither of them had a spouse and two young children they abandoned to go screw their lovers in said spouse's homeland. And then had their spouse and children brutally murdered as a result of the war they started 'for loveeee' lmao. The fandom harps on the age gap between R and L and honestly that doesn't even scratch the surface as to top five worst things about this relationship. I'm not even bother getting into L's hilariously hypocritical views on fidelity and having bastards lmao. I think GRRM inadvertently had the inciting relationship of his series be, not only predatory because of the age gap, but be based on the degradation and humiliation of an innocent wife and mother, and just....like......didn't realize it??? lmao. It's very weird, very very weird. I mean, on the other hand, I do think he....kinda...gets it because if he wanted a uncomplicated romance he simply would not have had Rhaegar be married with two kids.

All that being said, I think Martin is committed to making R a tragic hero and this a tragic love story, that he refuses to allow the people who should realistically hate Rhaegar and the targs the most, the Martells, excoriate him in the text. I had a conversation with another ASOIAF fan about this and she said that one of the good things the show did was allow Oberyn to call out Rhaegar for abandoning his sister, which he doesn't do in the text. I think there's a lot of cognitive dissonance with GRRM not realizing just how bad Rhaegar, and Lyanna imo, come across to readers in the text and, tinfoil time, I think not having to explain this relationship to readers is one of the many reasons he won't finish the series. I think he now realizes just how bad it is and how much 'fixing' of that ship he's going to have to do for both of them not to be absolutely hated by the fandom.

Obviously Martin is keeping very mum on the rebellion because he doesn't want to reveal too much and obfuscates a lot so we really don't have a lot of concrete opinions on Rhaegar from non-targ sycophants.....which is good writing technique.....usually.....but when you're taking 30 plus years to finish a series and are going on year 13 of having the fandom wait on the book that should in theory answer a lot of these questions....it's not great lol.

I don't see a question here, but I'm not above poking the viper's nest when I'm bored, so: okay, I'll bite!

If GRRM is trying to write Rhaegar as a tragic hero and R/L as some epically tragic love story, then, yes, he's doing a piss-poor job of it.

I don't think that's what he's doing.

I think he's intentionally writing a deeply frustrating story around the Martells. Whatever his initial idea of the Targs was in 1996...the story he's writing now is that dragons plant no trees.

He doesn't let the Martells acknowledge the Targs' mistreatment of their family because this is not a story in which they'll be vindicated or victorious. This is a story in which they are screwing themselves over. Which isn't exactly fun to read, but the pieces add up that way. The Targs are not the heroes the Martells need for their fairytale, any more than the Lannisters are the villains they need for that tale.

Especially Rhaegar. Seven Hells, are people actually saying "clearly Rhaegar was a good guy because the Martells don't blame him"? That is really...special. Nah, the Martells' refusal to hold the Targs, and especially Rhaegar, responsible for the injury done to their family is not an argument in favor of the Targs. It's 60% or more of the way the Martells are driving themselves off a cliff.

I don't have any firm opinions on why GRRM is taking so long to finish the Winds of Waiting. It's likely the result of many contributing factors, as the series involves many, many moving parts. But I doubt very much that he intends to write the Targs as the good guys Dany seems to think they are. They're a mix of hero and villain, like many other players in the game. Meanwhile the Martells' investment in the dragon is doubly tragic because where the Targs are actually heroic, they still don't reciprocate the Martells' loyalty. They hardly even see it.

#asoiaf meta #anon ask #the winds of waiting #house martell #house targaryen #raggedy trashgaryen #robert's rebellion #nobody screwed the martells harder than the targaryens #mine is a song of mischief and shit-stirring #in which I criticize the martells of sunspear #because they are screwing themselves over #if there's a tragic hero among the targs it's aegon v #dragons plant no trees

[maxminspeech]

Halo: Infinite, and the State of Modern Gaming

So, before I write this, I want to offer a couple critically important pieces of context.

I am a neurodivergent (namely, ADHD and Autism) person, and will be looking at these games from this lens

I am a *massive* fan of Halo, and even despite the problems I'm going to mention having here, I fucking love these games, and will continue to do so!

This is exclusively about the multiplayer component of Halo: Infinite. It is not the worst offender in any regard I mention, nor is it unique in its shittiness, but it is the series I know, and play, and have problems with. While I will be viewing these problems and speaking about them using Infinite as a point of reference, it will not be the only game I talk about nor the only thing I reference.

So. Halo: Infinite. It's major additions to the series outside of the core gameplay additions and story are limited-time events, battle passes you use to unlock new armour pieces, weekly items, and a microtransaction store which contains unique items. And ALL of these, are in one way or another, actively harmful.

As an autistic person, I have an incredibly addictive personality, and can hyperfixate on media I particularly enjoy. Halo, as my favourite media franchise in fiction, is certainly one of my worst offenders! But because of this, and a compulsive feeling of need to "get everything I can", I drive myself absolutely insane.

In Halo: Infinite, the grind quite literally never ends. Every 3-6 months, a brand new battle pass is released, containing dozens of hours worth of grinding in cosmetics. In addition to this, a new cosmetic is added each week, and if you don't earn that cosmetic that week? It's gone. Permanently. And there's events, limited time things with similar permanent losses if you don't (or can't) play the game to complete the event in time.

All of these things are, to one form or another, spread across countless games. Maybe not in the same way Halo handles it, but still. Its battle pass is a more user-friendly of that seen in something like Fortnite (as in Halo: Infinite, you can always go back and buy old Battle Passes, meaning no cosmetic from it can be truly missed out on, a fantastic user-friendly addition which would mean infinitely (heh) more if events and weekly items didn't permanently vanish if you fail to acquire them), events are in countless games, whether to add new items or simply speed up different forms of progression, and new rotating items are a somewhat common thing in games, too.

And then there's the store. For all my rage and frustration, I'm going to give shockingly little time to the store. It isn't really the problem itself here, though its existence is the ROOT of all the problems here. Because the game and its multiplayer truly... isn't designed to be fun. Its designed to keep you playing. And that's a critical difference.

Video games shouldn't be designed so you come back every week to get a new item. They should be designed to make you come back every year, or 2 or 3 or however long you want, to experience the entirety of the game once more. To enjoy and love this story, these characters, all over again.

This change in video game design is led by the simple root of it all- capitalism. A need to make more money in as efficient a way as possible. Make people pay for a battle pass, and then while they're playing to complete the pass anyway, make sure they see the store and the items in it, make sure they see that beloved Halo 4 helmet is there, or that they've added a new skin. Whatever keeps people coming back, keeps looking at the store.

Because it doesn't matter if 5 out of 10 people buy nothing, if 4 out of 10 buy something and 1 out of 10 buys everything. Especially when they're this easy to turn around new items for.

I understand that this is simply how the game is played, but I must talk about it, at least from my perspective. Because as an autistic, neurodivergent person, this is simply, to borrow a term from Jim Stephanie Sterling, an accessibility issue.

Video games should be for everyone. I firmly believe this and will stand by it until the day I die. But that doesn't just mean playing the game at all. It also includes people getting to enjoy a game without it being designed to prey upon their neurodivergence, their love for an existing series, just to try and fleece them for all the money they're willing to spend on pixels on a screen.

I love Halo. And I love Halo: Infinite. It's campaign is a masterpiece of writing, environments, visuals and gameplay. It's soundtrack is sublime (having listened to it while writing this, even!) and I adore it even despite all of this. But I also will admit, I can feel like my favourite series in fiction doesn't love me back, with the way it's designed. This isn't to blame 343 Industries, its to blame Microsoft. The company that orders these changes and collects the money while the staff who make the games we love get all of the blame and none of the credit.

The video game industry is fundamentally broken, and the sooner we can fix it, the better. Video games need to be for all, that includes neurodivergent people, and even people who just can't play the game this week!

Honestly, I really enjoyed writing this analytical piece. I think I might do it more often on here, of other ideas I have in games, or reviews, or anything.

Thank you for your time, friends. I hope you have a lovely day! Here's a nice gif of John Halo to cheer you up after a pretty serious ramble c:

#halo #halo infinite #liara rambles #neurodivergences in video games #autism #adhd

[sodapaladin]

✨Top 10 Games of 2023✨

It’s time for my annual list. As usual, these are games I played this year, not that came out this year. So despite all the hits this year, don’t expect to see many of them!

10. Fire Emblem Engage

While I was wary of the new character designs and anniversary excuse-story, Engage turned out to be more enjoyable than I expected. Not my favorite Fire Emblem, but a good one nevertheless.

9. Paradise Killer

What *style*! I went and bought this game immediately after my friend showed me the song “Paradise (Stay Forever).” Going in blind was wild. I sure didn’t expect the protagonist to be part of an extra-dimensional cult. I love exploring the vaporwave island.

8. WarioWare: Move It!

A worthy successor to Smooth Moves. While the amount of extra context seems oddly lacking for a WarioWare game, I love all the creative uses for the joycons. With the major exception of Jimmy’s boss minigame, everything works shockingly well.

7. Super Mario RPG

I debated where to place this. On one hand, I don’t feel like the remake added too much. The QoL improvements are nice, but the SNES original is still perfectly playable. It’s also quite short for an RPG, and on the easy side. But it’s just so charming anyway.

6. Darkstalkers 3

AKA Vampire Savior, not to be confused with another game. On the quest to capture the magic Third Strike had for me, this comes pretty close. If only I could find online matches now.

5. Suika Game

I had to see what the hype’s about, and I understood. So simple and cute, yet challenging. A great way to kill a few minutes.

4. Advance Wars 1+2 Reboot Camp

I held off on this for a while, since I have both original games, and it didn’t seem like much was changed. The QoL improvements have been nice, though, such as speeding up the CPU’s turns. Most importantly, it no longer cheats during Fog of War, so you can actually strategize as intended instead of cheesing certain maps.

3. It Takes Two

Playing this co-op game with my brother was a blast. Solving puzzles through teamwork is a satisfying joy, and I’d love to play again as the other character sometime.

2. Vampire Survivors

So addicting. It was hilarious to find out the dev works on slot machines. Now it’s quite clear that they know all the right bells and whistles to set that dopamine off.

1. Monster Girls and the Mysterious Adventure 2

It’s incredible when you can feel the amount of love poured into the development of a game. I picked up this solo-dev passion project thinking it’d be a cute little indie game. I didn’t expect it to be my favorite mystery dungeon experience.

Everything from the writing and QoL features show how clearly the dev loves this genre and wants to make the best version of it. The balance is wonky, some of the recruitment requirements are questionably difficult, and the English translation is extremely rough, but I can’t help but be charmed by the whole package anyway. I’ve put in around 50 hours getting to the “final” boss of the story, and there’s still a massive postgame dungeon. I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone, but for fans of mystery dungeon games, absolutely.

#goty

[chronotsr]

Pre-G1 Modules, part 6: Reflections

This isn't a full on post or anything, it really is just random thoughts. This blog has basically 3 goals, in no particular order:

Show off some weird interesting ideas from older modules. This is why the bullet-point sections exist.

Look at all the obscure modules no one's ever heard and don't get discussed so they can enjoy more awareness. This is why it's module to module and not lists of cool things I've found.

Look at how modules grew as an art-form. Their design, layout, styling, writing, et c. This is why it's in release order.

So I'm going to ramble about all 3 in turn.

1. Coolest ideas

So somehow the coolest idea I ran into in this roundup was keep on the borderlands ~in the desert~. The mental image is just stuck in my brain and if you're one of my fantasy age players, you've probably inhaled some spoilers accidentally now. It's gonna show up eventually.

I was also really fond of the really lateral use of animated objects in Tegel Manor, particularly the battlefield painting that spits arrows as the events on-canvas play out. It's very fun and very goofy and I regret the yearly Samhain one-shot being so far away. I will find an excuse to use that random magic statue table eventually.

Third place goes to the pet sea monster of the invincible overlord. It's just really stuck in my brain

2. Coolest Module You Haven't Heard Of

Oh that's easy. Tegel Manor. 100% Tegel Manor. That was easily the most fun I had writing this column so far, even as the pagecount sprawled and sprawled. I think the haunted house is the single best starting location for a new player, it's part of why I'm so ride or die for Ghosts of Saltmarsh (and I do specifically mean the 5e iteration, they did an excellent job realizing Saltmarsh as a location. It's a crying shame people hate because they expect pirates and get, not pirates).

Happily, I don't think the move is actually to just, buy modern Tegel Manor. In fact, a spiritual successor to Tegel Manor would be just what the doctor ordered.

3. The Growth of Module Design

I am telling on myself hard but my favorite part of watching this go on is to see the art of keying slowly evolve and standardize around the familiar model of today. We are far away from the, I know I will get crucified for this, frankly better keying of 5e. Or even the significantly improved keying of 4e. We are in crusty-ass 1970s keying, where if it was typed, it was professional. Honestly Temple of the Frog's keying is a shockingly good first attempt. The keying solution that Vampire Queen went for is, kind of novel in its own way. I kind of wish that this table-style keying had stuck around as a sort of summary page for quick reference, it's…honestly kind of convenient, especially for particularly hack and slashy campaigns.

Watching JG recover from their tailspin of excessive loot was really fascinating. I do keep in mind that weight was a big thing about loot recovery in early DND but what exactly was to stop a party from just going back in and looting the place over and over again, anyway? Sure the monsters could move around, the loot could move, but they still know the layout. I really feel like you have to simply not provide that much treasure, and I get the sense JG worked that out too.

Finally, I am just kind of happy to see the focus on creating dungeons, as in combat rectangles is already starting to be threatened as the status quo. Arneson obviously understood why this was bad, and you can see some designers working it out too. Holmes also had a very good grasp of pacing and dungeon layout that it would take others (including Gygax) a while to catch up to.

So anyway, see you at G1!

#0e #chronotsr #dnd #dungeons and dragons #tsr #ttrpg

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (11/02/24)

very sad weeks back to back, losing two good manga in cipher and mma, while other worse series continue along but oh well

green - new series/new to me blue - finale/completed

Anime

Undead Unluck Ep18

it's a shame these past few eps have been so heavy on recapping past stuff, to the point where most of the footage in the ep is reused. hope it isn't a sign there's underlying production issues. considering the nature of the next episode there's prob also gonna be a lot recaps but after we get into the autumn arc proper I hope it goes back to normal or it'll be worrying

Pokemon Horizons Ep39

the last few have been p weak so this one was pretty good in comparison. I haven't played scarvi yet but I've always liked tinktaton's design and this made me like it even more. it's a cute little creature, looking forward to see it being part of the cast in the future

Manga

Super Psychic Policeman Chojo Ch1

hey for a gag manga that was pretty decent, much better than ichigoki at least, not like that's hard. reminded me a lot of saiki but that's for obvious reasons. the author had a manga some years ago, samon the summoner, tho I never read it myself I knew it existed and saw it around sometimes. anyway like I said, this first chap was p decent, suffered a bit from pacing and repeating gags, but when it's the normal lenght it'll probably be fine. I'm not usually the biggest fan of gag manga like this, but this chap alone was a lot more tolerable than ichigoki so I'll be looking forward to maybe being surprised by it

Martial Master Asumi Ch32 (Finale)

it's a real shame mma got axed like this. kawada is a jump veteran and it really shows, everything about the series was a lot more polished and well executed than the other newcomers but it got axed while something like nue, shockingly, continues to truck along. it's a shame jp readers seem to have such bad taste in recent years with good series getting canceled too early while others stick around for way too long. anyway, it's a good manga. art's really good and the fights are cool and easy to follow. the cast, including the rivals, is all likeable. the cameos from hinomaru sumo characters was also cool (the author's previous work). it also portrayed dementia really well and respectfully so that was a nice thing to see. I was originally gonna give it an 8, then decided to bump it down to 7 cause it got cut short and felt like it didn't do everything it could've, but after looking at my scores for some other canceled series I decided to bump it up to 8 after all. looking forward to kawada's next manga. hopefully shueisha puts him in another magazine, doing a seinen or something, where a more mature audience can appreciate him

Two on Ice Ch19

only commenting on this cause the chapter's title was "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" which made me lose my mind cause there's no way it's a reference to that song right? and then I read the chap and it actually is, this shit hit me so outta nowhere it gave me whiplash. I know the author referenced a justin bieber song in an early chap but he's mainstream so while weird to see in a manga I didn't think much of it, unlike this which took me completely by surprise anyway this series should be getting axed for the next serialization series so I'll talk about it again then probably

#silver talks animanga

[goorehound]

if you get a chance could you maybe do some 'dating mary goore' headcannons?? so obsessed with your writing <3

Buckle up anon, here’s some random headcanons about dating the crusty dumpster man. I kept it SFW this time around.

If you guys want more shit like this just let me know (I can come up with more for sure, these were just whatever came to mind,) I’m happy to try and provide whatever content the Goore fans are craving lolol

Dating Mary Goore

Firstly, this man is emotionally constipated. Six months minimum before he says he loves you, and it’ll be either in the heat of the moment (if you catch my drift) or because he’s sloppy drunk.

Don’t get me wrong, that first one seems off putting, but he definitely shows his affection in other ways. From stupid small things like walking on the outside of the sidewalk to block you from traffic to bringing in random groceries whenever he decides he’s about to crash at your place for a week or so, making sure there’s coffee if he wakes up before you, coaxing you to drink water on nights out, shit the list goes on.

He is stupidly proud of the fact that you’re dating. If you’re out somewhere together and you’re down for PDA? He’s gonna have his hands on you. Around your waist, in your back pocket, arm over your shoulder, speaking quiet and nosed right up against your temple even if you could hear him clearly from a distance.

On that note, once things get a bit more serious and you both want to stick around, he’ll probably insist you write something on his vest. Just for a nice reminder of who he’s coming home to after tours. You both settle on “Y/N was here” with an arrow pointing down towards his ass , which he maybe laughed harder than was necessary about.

Mary is DIY or die to a fault. If you’ll allow it, he’ll tat you with a sewing needle and some black India ink. It will be janky, and it will not be pretty, but you’ll love it anyway.

Mary is a very independent guy, sometimes it’s a bit infuriating how he comes and goes like a stray cat before settling into your home (it could be his apartment you move into, but those roommates of his? Yikes.) but nothing could beat waking up to Mary curling up around you after not seeing him for a couple weeks.

He likes baking, shockingly. More importantly, he likes baking for or with you. A lot. Too much, sometimes. He likes providing you with snacks when you two can afford the supplies, even if you guys have to start pawning the baked goods off on friends when Mary’s stress baking gets out of hand.

He is protective as fuck. Not like he’s going to follow you around and dictate who you’re talking to, but as in he hones in on your discomfort, he’s aware of you when you guys are out. If someone’s being a dick at a party? He’ll be there. Wether it’s to be a buffer and get you out of the situation or break a nose is neither here nor there. If you start drinking too much, he knows how to cut you off and sober you up enough to get you home and snuggled in bed.

Get your fingers all up in his hair (especially after a shower) and see how big scary Mary turns into a puddle of goo. Frankly, you could probably convince him to do anything if you keep massaging his head just right. He’s a sucker for it, and if you start you might be stuck playing with his hair for the rest of the night.

He likes to do your makeup. If you’re wanting corpse paint, he kills it. He’ll try to do feminine shit and fail miserably, but it will keep you both amused.

Horror movie marathon date nights. When your schedules permit, he’d do it all day long. Wether or not you’re a fan of it is an entirely different story, but curled up and watching classics or shitty slashers with you? That’s Mary’s ideal date.

Banter is one of his favourite things about being with you. Random and especially bizarre insults thrown back and forth makes it all feel easy. Granted sometimes he can be a Grade A Dick and get himself benched on the couch for the night, but that’s rare, and almost all of his bickering is playful and downright adoring.

#mary goore #headcanons #dating Mary Goore